Grandmas Bar

Editorial

Well, retro has officially eaten itself. If you keep digging into the past rehashing till there's nothing left that hasn't been done before at least twice, you hit a critical mass of nostalgia that results in Grandma's Bar. Yep, you heard it, granny's cool now, and she's running her own bar. 

Firmly tongue in cheek, this awesome little basement bar in the bowls of Clarence Street is a yesteryear palace, with kitsch a-go-go! Crumbly sofas come here to die, and you can put your drinks down on those random lace doilies that only ever exist in the houses of those over 65. If it was in 50 years ago, it's in here. 

Describing itself as a "retro-sexual haven of cosmopolitan kitsch and faded granny glamour", the mission statement is fairly self-explanatory. There is a basket of knitting needles and wool that the regulars have been working their way through furiously, though lord help whoever has to wear the resultant trophy.  

One thing I'm not sure granny would approve of is the almost telephone book-like slab that is the cocktail list. Well, having said that, your average granny got up to way more than we probably give them credit for, so who knows what intoxicating concoctions she may have had with the boys back in her day. You will need your reading glasses though, they're so tightly packed in. If you give up on that, resort to the also refreshing wine list!

Stephen Russell, February 2011