Lately, we’re really tugging on the heartstrings of nostalgia, with venues offering up variations on the theme when it comes to a taste of comfort. Given what we’ve been through these past years, a little nod to the past, mixed with the new, makes sense right now.

Related story: Moonhouse, a new Chinese bistro by the Tokyo Tina team, is opening in Balaclava 

In the case of one of Melbourne’s newest venues, Moonhouse, it arrives in the form of a Chinese bistro with decidedly retro Aussie vibes. And why not? Hailing from the same restaurant group that gave us Hanoi Hannah and Tokyo Tina, perhaps it’s already a win that it isn’t called Canton Caroline.

Taking up residence in a compellingly curvy art deco number, the venue’s striking heritage-listed exterior gives way to a bustling dining room decked out with every hot-right-now style cue you can think of. Raw, stripped walls slide into 1920s’ fluted glass panels, the ceiling festooned with full moon-esque light fixtures. The bar is constructed with ox-blood hued marble, while luxe leather accents abound. It’s the kind of smart, dynamic space you want to meet friends in for a well-heeled session.

And, from the steady trays of espresso martinis and daiquiris flying through the room on a Saturday arvo, everyone here understands the assignment. The drinks menu is considered, Australian-focused and approachable, so let the good times roll.

The food menu reads compellingly enough, peppered with enough retro riffs and modern twists to keep any diner interested. There are nods to Taiwan, Hainan, Hong Kong, Canton, Sichuan and the 1970s’ Australian regional Chinese restaurant. Also Indonesia and Korea, cos, why not.

Oysters are topped with zingy ginger and finger lime or steamed, Cantonese-style, with soy, ginger and spring onion. Kilpatrick is officially back and here lap cheong provides the bacony bite for your buck.

Snacks begin with a bowl of pickled cucumber, crunchy-soft black fungus lobes and friends, and are refreshing enough. Expectations are high any time “club sandwich” or “Hainanese chicken” is listed, so imagine how one might feel when the two meet. It’s all technically there: A cocktail stick-held sandwich of shredded chunks of aromatically poached chicken tossed through a spring onion sauce, layered with soy dressing, crispy chicken skin, and a sliver of cucumber. But is it a finger sandwich or a club sandwich? It’s not toasted, though the bread edges are curiously dry. Sadly, so is the chicken.

There is more success with the prawn toast, a bouncy, well-seasoned farce of prawn, spread and fried atop a thin crunch of toast, suffused in golden sesame. You’re to dip it into an accompanying just-as-rich prawn bisque sauce.

Plump chicken and prawn wontons are presented in what is touted as a broth anointed with spring onion oil. Only the amount of liquid in the bowl has us wondering if it’s just a dressing, or if the waiter tripped on the way from the pass. A generous serve of Murray cod fillet in Shaoxing broth sits on a bed of verdant garlic shoots, and it’s lovely to see one of Australia’s most underrated and delicious fish sitting so proudly on the plate. The fillet is gorgeously crisp skinned, the flesh glossy, tender and lip-coatingly rich. It should pair well with the clean, savoury and fragrant qualities of a Cantonese style dressing – if only the latter wasn’t so sugar forward.

Crispy fried sweet and sour cauliflower is tossed with faintly charred pineapple and capsicum and doesn’t quite stick the landing, while a firm coconut-scented soy custard, topped with mandarin, lychee and sorbet makes a cool, sweetly refreshing end to the meal.

Elsewhere, there’s a Sichuan-spiked steak tartare with egg and potato crisp, a luxe take on beef and black bean, a vego version of dan dan noodles, and XO pippies on a crispy egg noodle bed. They also sound like things I like to eat, so maybe another visit is in order.

I can’t shake the sense of deja vu. Fragments and memories of cracking, dynamic dishes from menus all over reside here but out of context, something feels a little lost in translation. In drawing from a broad palette of bright ideas that span continents and generations, what should not be lost is soul.