The Stuffed Beaver Dining Parlour

With a name like The Stuffed Beaver, I didn't expect this place to be a dining parlour in any conventional sense of the word. And yes, there's nothing parlour-like about it. Nineties rock music is blaring out the front window and beach bums and girls in ripped jeans are hanging out the front. Inside, the floor is scattered with peanut shells and – shock, horror – the staff encourage it. There's even free tequila if you can get your shells into a cup behind the bar.

SOMEWHERE BETWEEN THE WILD WEST and a college fraternity sits The Stuffed Beaver. A maze of shelves behind the bar is stacked with "vintage" goodies; roller skates, college trophies, taxidermy, milkshake glasses, piles of books. I use the term "vintage" loosely because it doesn't look like these collectables have been hoarded by a loving owner. It looks as if someone has gone out and bought everything in one big swoop to decorate the bar. The walls are adorned with moose heads and signs espousing life lessons such as "Please don't shoot the piano player, he's doing the best he can" and "It's not a party until the beaver comes out". Together with the fish tacos, there's some cheeky innuendo going on, which "pretty much explains the place", says owner Brody Petersen, who also owns the Flying Squirrel. "It's a greasy-spoon diner with rock'n'roll playing and sport on the TV; it's dark'n'dingy. The last thing I'm gonna do is open another bloody wine bar on this block."

THE STAFF ARE TATTOOED to the nines and come with big smiles and laid-back charm. A Canadian flag hung over a bar stool connects the dots between Petersen's accent, the all-American diner food and the varsity football boots beneath the flat-screen television (which isn't playing Super Bowl but rather the Australian Open. That's a happy cultural medium). It's a typical North American hang-out: beer, sports, burgers and rock'n'roll.

DRINKING IS A MATTER OF NECESSITY rather than luxury. There ain't no fancy drinks in this dining parlour. Choose from a handful of cocktails, most of which are just double shots (like the J.Lo, a double shot of tequila with ginger beer and wine, $16), or a beer (Miller Genuine Draft, Little Creatures Pale Ale or a longneck of Melbourne Bitter). The basic wine selection runs the gamut from good (the venue's own-label sauv blanc and shiraz), better (a pinot grigio and merlot) and best (a chardonnay and pinot noir).

ONCE YOU'VE GOT A DRINK IN YOUR HAND, you can concentrate on the Beaver burgers, sup dogs, hot wings or a snack direct from the mother country: poutine. The French-Canadian take on chips with gravy and cheese ($12) is heart attack-inducing but dang, it's good. The sup dog ($16) is a monster as well, a foot-long vienna pork sausage on a wholemeal bun with American mustard, "ketchup", pickle and house-made apple sauerkraut. We have to bypass the banana split because we're full to the brim and sitting pretty with ice-cold beers, honest-to-god food and some hearty North American fun.

YOU'LL LOVE IT IF you're after a mix of hoo-ha-ing, drinking and enjoying a bite to eat.

YOU'LL HATE IT IF the latest, hippest hang-outs make you squirm.

GO FOR the sup dog, poutine, longnecks in paper bags.

IT'LL COST YOU bottled beer $7-$11, cocktails $15-$18, wine by the glass $6-$10, food $8-$17.