Trinity bar & bistro

Many a time have I walked past the corner of Devonshire and Crown Street in Surry Hills and wondered why people seemed to so enjoy sitting on the outside terrace at the Trinity in amidst all the traffic. Well, we weren't out the front but sampling the delights of this bar on a recent weekend I kind of get why they are out there.

This pub is trying to be a 'proper' old school pub. Not in the Rocks sense of having hose down walls but in that Ye Olde England sense with lots of dark wood and a wide beer selection. So far so good. We were ushered upstairs into the function room because there were rater too many of us for the tables downstairs. Upstairs has been done up, like so many Sydney pubs but I can't say I entirely disapprove. They've made sure there's an outside area, inside is not too fussy - some good long couches and tables with chair and the quirky wall prints were a nice surprise.

The food is well up near the 20$ mark but I didn't hear any complaints. Thankfully not Ye Olde Pubbe Grubbe but pretty standard mod-oz-pub. My salad with haloumi and sweet potato etc was rather delicious, filling and only 16$.

So overall, nothing exciting but quite an acceptable function venue if you want your own space and not to be shut up in some poky corner room.

Corner Crown and Devonshire St, Surry Hills. Website here.

A Rose by any other name..

La rose la rose la rose

Location: Chippendale, corner of Cleveland St and Shepherd St
Details: Fine pub with good food, good beer and a nice crowd

This drinking emporium used to be my local a few years ago so returns are always tinged with a passive-aggressive kind of nostalgia for all the nights flatmates and partners could not be persuaded off the couch in pursuit of a beverage.. it is also the bar that my characters tend to hang out in when I make my thankfully infrequent forays into fiction. In other words – it’s one of those bars that gets a strong hold on your imagination, not because it’s particularly mind blowing but because it’s rather unique in the area having a nice laid-back atmosphere, a pool table, good food and a beer garden.

When seen from the street the façade gives a reasonably good idea of what you’ll find inside – a nice old bar that’s been re-done a bit but mainly just by being painted over. What sets the Rose apart is it’s nicely sized beer garden which is sunny in summer, well heated in winter and which provides relief for smokers, sun-chasers and, on the night we last visited, for people who want to smoke and watch Rugby. The Rugby world cup brought large screens into this formerly luddite bar and they have not yet been removed. Unfortunately this also creates a bottleneck out the back as the rugby fans swill their tipple on the steps

It’s a bar for beer drinkers - the ‘cocktail bar’ out the back is probably overly ambitious, has slow service and I’ve never seen a reasonable cocktail emerge from it. The beer is good though. The restaurant out the back allows the immortal combination to be achieved: beer and pizza. The pizza is thin, flavourful and there’s no point going beyond the 13$ margarita. And then there’s a pool table for afters…

palms

oh my god, you can't believe what happened. yeah, we went to palms!

you know, palms? yeah, it was totally tacky, but there was a group of us and it WAS the weekend, and they, like, got rid of the dick tracy cardboard cutout in the smoker's corner. no, it is TOTALLY a gay rsl, yeah, and the dj was so typical, i mean he didn't even mix. just started up the song when the last one stopped.

and the drinks were kinda overpriced, i know, and the people there weren't the cutest, but there was this one hot guy. anyway, i was really drunk and we pashed - but it was palms, so i just kept dancing, you know? and we sang real loud.

oh, i know, but we had so much fun, just dancing around and pashing and singing. it was real fun!

anyway, you were saying?

[like Palms has a website - i mean, as if]

Golden Sheaf

The first time I walked into the Golden Sheaf, I was meeting my first wife's ex boyfriend.

The one who fucked with her head, screwed with her feelings, and then proceeded to continue to repeat the cycle (several times) while simultaneously undertaking a passive-aggressive relationship with his other girlfriend. That was the night he learnt about the aluminium baseball bat we kept in the hallway cupboard and the imaginary list of ex-lovers we kept next to the front door, a.k.a. THE photographic list of of ex-fucks who were to be clubbed or given the good ol' Lorena Bobbitt if they ever came near the house.

To say he was a little scared by the prospect of either of us wielding a baseball bat and/or undertaking castration is an understatement.

I guess I just can't divorce the image of he-who-shall-no-longer-be-mentioned from the Sheaf. Nor of the girl standing behind us that night wearing what can only be described as a sheer leopard print dressing gown cinched at the waist.

These are the sorts of things that occur at the Sheaf.

Another time, I was sitting next to a good friend. After getting absolutely plastered on several ice buckets full of quickly emptied wine bottles, I watched as an incredibly hot blond english backpacker picked her up. (I found out later she screwed him in one of the adjacent construction sites before recommencing shits and giggles).

Hmmm... not much of a review I'm afraid. Ultimately, the Sheaf seems a mixture of so many not-particularly-interesting things to me. Maybe I'm just not the right kind of ostentatious for it - it's that brand of pretension that completely befits its location in Double Pay. Maybe its the wrong kind of trashiness that does it for me - for sure, it's a factor. Could be the certain pseudo-blokey nonchalance on the part of its (mainly straight) clientele, or perhaps the stereotypical eastern suburbs Paris-Nicole-Lohan air-kissing bollocks that goes on around you as you wait for the (admittedly good) steaks.

I dunno, it's not really my thing.

[The Golden Sheaf Hotel]

Slide

Ok, this venue has now been open for a few weeks. Then again, I've been completely slack with this blog - this obviously being the first entry. Nothing like a bit of typing to overcome the sloth; now if only I could do this more regularly. Anyway, what better place to start this new blog than a review of the latest babe in boyland?

Initial impressions were OK. In typical Oxford Street style, the place was full of pretentious marys wanting to be seen - which can be fun, and completely suit the venue. The mixture of disco floors with pared back decor with a touch of ostentatious lighting (in the form of crystal necklace chandeliers) works well, and full tips to the person who found the artwork behind the dance floor. Although, I always thought Oscar Wilde wore a pansy in his lapel (not a rose). Anyone able to verify?

Best thing about this venue: hot bartenders in kilts. Mmmmm, boy (and girl) candy.

Cocktails and entrees were had on Christmas Eve with the boys.Big up to the chef on the oysters - delicious with the right touch of originality. The beetroot and wasabi selections? Spot on.

Our bartender, however, was a little useless on the cocktail front. Fellow bartrawler, the diva Mac, found her cosmo a little rural. My berry mixture (f49? something like that anyway) came with the consistency of a bloody mary. Not what I was looking for on a hot Sydney summer night.

Funniest experience: watching various people attempt to walk into the toilet door. The button's on the right. Find it.

Couple of criticisms. One, the tables have been kept on the dancefloor way too long. I get that you're trying to sell the food downstairs, but this is primarily a bar which sells itself on the spectacular LED lit dancefloor. Let the humble patron work it for what it's worth (reputedly, quite a few quid).

Secondly, do something with the space under the mezzanine! Currently everyone's busy preening themselves in front of the ground floor bar, and not utilising the space properly.

Overall, though, only a few kinks. Clean em up and the only way is up.

Finally, to the Tommy Tank boys (Slide's regular Thursday night)? You promised a certain type of music? I'm yet to hear it. So are your other patrons.