Missing the 1970s or wish you’d been there? There’s a new restaurant in Newstead where you can marinate in nostalgia, Harvey Wallbanger in hand, American Pie raining down from the speakers as you flick through a menu that begins with baked bruschetta and ends with chocolate fondue.

Why the throwback? There’s an apparent appetite for retro at the moment with a ’90s restaurant Mr Vain also opening in the past few weeks just up the road in Fortitude Valley.

Maggie May Supper Club, on the site previously occupied by the Defiant Duck near Gasworks, has the ’70s vibe down pat, from the orange and cream carpet, to the green velour curtains and the rattan-backed, metal-framed chairs. Seemingly named for the 1971 Rod Stewart chart-topper, Maggie May is a sizeable venue from the hospitality group that boasts Lefty’s Music Hall, Finn McCool’s and The Spotted Cow among its line-up.

We make a nocturnal visit, and wend our way past the outdoor tables with vibrant orange umbrellas that overlook green space, a cluster of comfy lounges, to one of many, well-spaced, bare wood tables adorned with a lamp and salt and pepper grinders. While we dither over the menu, the music stays on theme with continuous ’70s tunes. Ordering is at the bar or by QR code at the table, although we get plenty of help from an experienced staffer, who is keen to seek feedback and offer advice.

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One oddity about the supper club name is that the business opens for breakfast before carrying on to lunch, dinner and into the night. Another is the menu, which has a couple of toes in the ’70s camp but one foot firmly grounded in 2022, with duck shanks with chilli caramel and lime, fish goujons and flatbread topped with goat cheese and jamon serrano (I’m pretty sure, despite it being the case here, that small and large plates for sharing weren’t around then) followed by a 300g sirloin, harissa-glazed eggplant, a brined and roasted half chicken, mussels and charcuterie.

The brioche buns in the prawn rolls (two for $18) needed to either be softer and fresher or more toasted but fell in between, leaving the prawn mayo mix that had a nice Sriracha hit, without a premium platform on which to show off. Gin-cured salmon ($22), adorned with capers and onion, came with a stiff ball of cream cheese that didn’t taste very strongly of the advertised horseradish, and a fan of croutons.

Porkerhouse ($32), pork sirloin, was like a ’70s family meal, with a plentiful portion of slightly dry meat (there’s disc of chorizo butter on top that wants to help), truffled green pea puree, and decent chunks of potato with the added appeal of pancetta pieces. Gnocchi ($27) is rubbery and tasteless although it’s mixed through plenty of roasted cauliflower florets doing everything they can to pep up proceedings helped by taleggio cheese, parsley, peas and pangrattato. A side of pumpkin rings ($12) displays a crunchy batter. Desserts include chocolate fondue, which is absolutely right for the era, S’mores and goat’s cheese cheesecake.

Drinks are the strong suit here with a rum punch and a spritz on tap, nine classic cocktails including a Harvey Wallbanger and an Old fashioned, and 10 originals such as a Saturday Night Fever, which I couldn’t have as they were out of an ingredient. I settled for an Animal Housed (see what they did there, with a nod to the 1978 US frat house film) and it’s an appealing alchemy of tequila, mezcal, lime juice, habanero lime syrup and agave syrup. My dining companion’s house wine was made complimentary as compensation.

Wines include more avant garde options as well as more standard drops such as Penfolds St Henri shiraz and Pepperjack Malbec. Balter XPA is one of the nine beers on tap. It’s a strong line-up at a good time venue fanned by the soundtrack of the past.

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