Anju

There may not be a scientific correlation between the pride with which a dish is served and the pleasure with which it's consumed but I'm sure there's an association.

Everything at Anju, a casual Korean bar and restaurant, is delivered with a tangible, though often silent wish that it will satisfy.

It would taste good anyway – the food is fresh, careful and punchy, with big flavours that marry well with alcohol – but there's an amplification sparked by the fervent hope that everything will be truly enjoyed.

Enjoyment comes in the form of crunchy, pretty lotus root chips to dunk in lime mayonnaise, crisp kimchi pancakes, broccoli smothered in black sesame and tofu cream, and super-sticky fried chicken. The focus is on food to share while drinking.

Rowdy tables kick back with beer towers, metre-tall ale dispensers that are as fun as they are quenching. My favourite is the makgeolli, a cloudy fermented rice liquor.

About the same strength as beer, and similarly refreshing, it's served in a large bowl and ladled into cups for consumption.

Anju offers sweet, fruity makgeolli makeovers but I like it best straight.

Communal delight peaks with ssam​ (wrapped) dishes, which are big enough to infuse large tables with bonhomie.

Barbecued pork belly is presented for DIY assembly with soft lettuce leaves, chilli sauce, and fresh apple and kimchi salad. The meat melts to caramel morsels mixed with toffee-crunch crackling and the whole dish is a messy marvel, calorific and terrific.

The two-year-old restaurant is recently renovated, smart and clean, with stools at high tables extending down the long room.

It's in Little Latrobe Street, the littlest of Melbourne's Littles, just one block long and something of a mini-Koreatown.

Anju is a modern place (did I mention there are sliders?) but joy in heritage is expressed in such items as the peasant-favourite makgeolli, the army stew (a hearty soup laced with Spam that has its origins in post-war making do), the humble woven egg holders hanging from the walls and, of course, the pride that adds to the experience like a piquant garnish.

Rating: Three and a half stars (out of five)