Harpoon Harry Dining Room

Come hungry to Harpoon Harry Dining Room. Not just because the cooking is hearty, but because that way you'll play your part in the slow dance that is southern – as in America's deep south – hospitality. 

Come not hungry, and you might be a bit fazed when larger-than-life chef-about-town and driving force behind the Nashville-style Belles Hot Chicken, Morgan McGlone, sends out a goodly slab of St Louis smoked pork ribs slathered with barbecue sauce ($22), as an entree.

It's a pretty bad-ass way to start, like injecting pork straight into your veins, without bothering with all the lip-smacking and finger-licking. The flavours run deep, not shallow around these parts.  First, there's the brining, then a dry rub – a mix of spent coffee grains, chilli powder, onion and garlic powders, cayenne and smoked paprika. Then there's smoking for five hours at 120C over ironbark and red gum, coating with McGlone's barbecue sauce and a quick roast to finish. 

Topped with mad curls of bubbly, deep-fried pig skin, it's finally ready to be torn apart and eaten in the hands.

Since working with acclaimed southern chef Sean Brock in Charleston and Nashville, McGlone has been like a southern revivalist minister spreading the gospel of southern food. He's converted the downstairs bar menu to shrimp po' boys, cornmeal johnny cakes, and a big, two-hands double burger; making good use of Harriet, the custom-made one-tonne wood-fired smoker.

Now he's taken over the upstairs dining room, leaving intact the chequerboard walls, colourful tiles, 1940s light fittings, and neon signs of the original Latino fit-out. The comfortable space has the air of a parlour in a well-to-do, turn-of-the-century brothel.

There's more meat if you want it – a Riverina pork chop with "six-hour cabbage" and a steak dinner for two that has grown men crying for help. Not every dish is big and meaty, however. Cloudy Bay diamond shell clams dressed with a bold green garlic butter and bottarga ($22) number just five, and the "shrimp and grits" ($33) is a lovely thing, like eating soft corn polenta with a ladleful of bisquey, buttery broth topped with a tangle of tail-on Crystal Bay prawns and a rubble of fermented and smoked pork sausage. There's a lot of respect – and butter – on the plate here. 

McGlone is a smart cook, so this food isn't heavy and bland, as much southern cooking is today, but bright, lively, considered and refined. Elements such as garlic and sausage are fermented, wild greens evident, and dinky little Parker rolls – sweet, hot and fresh – are served with a lush lard butter.

Former Buzo and Vincent wine man James Hird has compiled a high/low list of white, red, rose and orange wines that looks downright drinkable, though he's most proud of his old-school bourbon trolley with its tray of cut-crystal glassware. 

He talks me down from an $81 red to a $37 fleshy, savoury 2014 D'Estezargues Cuvee des Copains, a hog-friendly Grenache from the Rhone Valley. 

A Plate of Vegies ($28) is like being able to order all the side dishes at once, from blackened sweetcorn to sweet potato with creme fraiche and candied pecans. 

Pound cake ($12) comes in a brick gussied up with chocolate cremeux and rhubarb syrup. Pleasant, but I'm heading back for a "Shake" of Melbourne Moonshine and fior di latte ice-cream, or a Suburban of Buffalo Trace bourbon and smoked cola. 

Looks like you'd better come thirsty, too.

THE LOWDOWN
Best bit: Sayin' things like "shrimp and grits".
Worst bit: You'll end up fuller than a tick on a hound dog.
Go-to dish: St Louis pork ribs, Harry's barbecue sauce, crisp pig skins, $24.

Terry Durack is chief restaurant critic for The Sydney Morning Herald and senior reviewer for the Good Food Guide. This rating is based on the Good Food Guide scoring system.