I’m a little confused. Merivale’s mega revamp of The Paddington (formerly Paddington Arms Hotel) is quite perplexing. On the one hand they don’t want you to consider it a pub, and yet it’s louder than a Mambo T shirt. Then, they’d prefer you don’t perceive it as a restaurant either. But you don’t hire the talent of chefs like former Momofuku Sieobo panhandler Ben Greeno if you want to sell $10 schnitzels.

But us professional napkin wearers like to pigeonhole establishments. Place them in a little box and slap a sticky label on it. The Paddington though, leaves me in a state of quandary.

It’s two floors of raucous energy. A roaring beast that’s awakened a strip of bitumen that’s been lost in a sort of slumber.

The design, meant to embody a former local butchery, feels more holiday in the Hamptons than British cobbled laneway. But it suits the establishment’s intentions. Think dusty pinks, white exposed walls, hanging garlic, glazed ceramic tiles, dark wooden chairs and white marble-print laminate tabletops.

Downstairs, a bar leads into segmented dining areas. The room is anchored by a stunning kitchen that’s crowned by an enormous copper exhaust range hood.

The noise can only be described as insane. I may be at home in the throes of a Metallica concert, but even I found it unsettling.

Upstairs is a little more civilized with booth seating, a private dining room, cocktail bar and bench seating with a bird’s eye view of the kitchen in all its frenetic glory. Use the stairs if your intention is to dine, rather than imbibe.

The wine list by Franck Moreau and Adrian Filiuta cleverly plays the AAA balancing act of affordability, adventure and accompaniment but the service staff are like headless chooks. They’re everywhere, but getting their attention is like bobbing for apples. Thankfully, amidst the madness one waiter provided a calming influence as he carried half the team on his shoulders.

It really is pub service – even the cutlery is in a cup on the table – but, thanks to Greeno, the food is elevated beyond a gastro-pub brief.

Cucumbers are charred on the outside until just warmed through. The bitter black is removed before it’s seasoned and tossed in black-pepper oil and tarragon leaves. Next, two skewers of lightly charred chicken offal (heart, liver, gizzard) and wing offer the lovely crunch, snap and wobble that each promises. It arrives with an herbaceous manoush (flat bread) and a viscous, velvety eggplant puree. I just hope people are brave enough to order it and ensure it stays on the menu.

Noosa spanner crab is delicately turned through mayonnaise and placed on toasted bread. There’s sweetness, crunch and buttery goodness. Meanwhile charred leeks partner Cloudy Bay Diamond clams in a burnt butter and clam juice lather. It’s glorious.

The selling point, of course, is the French rotisseries and Greeno is roasting chickens, wagyu, whole fish, lamb rump and more in them. Merivale plans to open a takeaway chicken shop next door, so we opt for a half chook, French fries and chicken-jus gravy that’s perhaps a little too thin. It’s a solid chook and it’s cooked beautifully, but although it’s pitched as the star of the show, Greeno’s other dishes are the real main event.

Restaurant? Pub? It’s both and neither. Perhaps it’s whatever you want it to be. Maybe that’s the point. Whatever the case, it’s a modern eatery where you can loosen the tie and enjoy food by a chef whose innate understanding of balance, harmony, texture and flavour far outweighs the moderate hit to your wallet. For that, and that alone, it’s worth making a booking.