Nantucket Kitchen & Bar

If you have any doubt that Brisbane is deeply in thrall to American food, just look at how everyone throws around sliders, sloppy joes and po' boys these days, like they were born and bred in the bayou.

Hospitality operators, never ones to let a trend pass them by, are all super-keen to ride this particular gravy train. But someone needs to pull the emergency cord and have the pretenders thrown off, because there are way too many soulless versions being dished up as the real thing. The McSlider's release, I fear, is imminent.

An American restaurant that's part of, if not technically inside, a shopping centre certainly sets alarm bells a-clanging. Reading the long-winded “our story” on the website (at least it seems the owner has now taken down the bit about where his children go to school) doesn't inspire confidence either.

So Nantucket Kitchen & Bar comes as a surprise. Named for an island south of Cape Cod, where life once revolved around whaling and fishing, it must have been tempting to theme the hell out of the place, but great restraint has been shown, with the only crab pots visible in the form of some contemporary light shade lookalikes, while the anchor motif is largely constrained to Nantucket's logo. The smart fitout, in a palette of white and crisp green, has more of a conservatory than seafaring feel, an effect engendered by plant motifs on the upholstered booths, huge vases of banana leaves and a glassed-in side section.

The menu dishes up a more sophisticated version of Americana too – less finger licking, more finger bowls. Which is not to say you won't find the ubiquitous slider on the menu; on our visit they were racing out of the kitchen at a cracking pace. There are also pierogi filled with beef cheek and carrot relish, referencing the Russian and Ukrainian immigrants who made New England their home. Then there are southern interlopers like gumbo and a modern Tex-Mex starter of deep-fried calamari with jalapeno mayo.

But it's the signature crab cakes (practically a New England state dish) that deserve the menu rosette – a trio of fat, panko-crumbed patties with little or no filler to detract from the pure sweetness of spanner crab. Served with fennel coleslaw, they're indicative of the kitchen's less-is-more ethos. Except for butter, judging from the gravy that comes with “brick chicken”, a flattened Maryland cooked to smoky, charry perfection on a Robata grill. You'll want to drink the creamy yet light gravy straight from the jug, but for politeness' sake, perhaps order some rosemary and garlic chips to dip instead.

Charcoal-grilled steaks include a dry-aged rib on the bone with classic cafe de Paris butter, tender and cooked to pink and still juicy in the middle, pre-sliced and nestled against the bone for ease of eating. Also from the grill are Tasmanian lamb chops with a honey-mustard glaze, a pork chop with spiced pear relish, and salmon with sauce maltaise, a blood orange hollandaise.

Service hums along nicely, as well it should under the eagle eye of former restaurateur Paul McGivern. In the kitchen, an open affair with a surprising number of hands on deck, is head chef Christopher Sell, who trained under McGivern aeons ago at his old place, Manx at Portside Wharf, before moving on to stints at Restaurant Two and The Jetty in Bulimba.

The wine list interestingly doesn't heavily feature Craggy Range (Nantucket's owner TJ Peabody is managing director), but it does boast plenty of recognisable names. There's also a short cocktail list and a couple of hard iced teas (sadly not bottomless like the non-alcoholic versions).

A calorie-busting dessert list may cause indecision, but while a macaron ice-cream sandwich ticks all the hipster boxes, it doesn't quite reach the same heights as the chocolate and salted caramel tart with honeycomb ice cream.

It's a brave move to open in what is essentially the facade of a shopping centre, but from the number of large tables and the handshaking and air-kissing going on, it seems that western suburbanites are embracing Nantucket.