Sitting and sipping in Sydney's best small bars every Monday. Check here for regular reviews.
We had heard a lot about Spooning Goats on the twitterverse of late. Following the process of opening up a new small bar in Sydney tweet by tweet was thoroughly entertaining. The expectations were high as the bar had been set by some seriously established small bars we’d visited previously.
Sparse and minimal, the retro 60s furniture made me feel like George Jetson (not to mention the Atari in the corner; the future is here!). A big wall menu stood in front of us and, upon a quick glance, we realised it didn’t have food on it. We looked at the A4 laminated piece of paper used as a menu and it just had wine. A little disgruntled my boyfriend barhopper and I went to Maccas. I really hate Maccas.
We returned, bellies full of greasy vom-worthy burger fuel, and saw a fellow barhopper looking at another section of the wall. A section devoted to HANDMADE PIES. I was furious. I love pies. I love hands. I love handmade pies.
I let this disappointment slide and calmed myself down over a friendly game of space invaders, to which the invaders did successfully invade the planet and we all died. But luckily enough the owner had a drawer full of other old school games like Pacman and Pele’s Soccer (Is it 1995?) I loved this piece of nostalgia as any 20+ hipster would. Everyone loves to revel in the clunky design and slow joysticked glory of the 90s. Waynes World anyone?
The pinot noir was good but the tempranillo was fantastic; smooth, balanced with a refined sensuality. The champagne was good but we’ve had better at more competitive prices. The drinks came in mismatched glasses and the pies came in bowls. Yes, bowls. Cereal holding, curvy, wonder-filled bowls. Perfect size for a pie, a pie, I might add, that was freaking delicious. Who needs the inconvenience of balancing a pie topped plate on your lap, clumsily chasing your slippery dinner with your unnecessary knife and fork? Bowls and spoons people. Bowls and spoons. We tried the korma, lamb and chicken pies (that is, the korma pie, lamb pie and chicken pie. How gross would a korma-lamb-chicken pie be!) and all bowls were licked clean.
We discussed spoons, goats and spooning goats and finally asked the owner the meaning behind the name. He said it was because of his Nan’s spoon collection and he gestured to the wall of antique spoons above the bar. The ‘goat’ part was just because of a quirky badge he was wearing at the time. Conveniently enough it has become their logo.
Some awkward moments with the bartender put us off at first, and a less enthusiastic answer to my ‘do you have any fun, non-alcoholic drinks?’ question made me feel like a 12 year old masquerading in adult’s domain. These little off moments plus the off centred wallpaper put a dampener on our night at first but the nostalgia, pies and spoon collection wooed us in the end. Maybe a little more warmth from the air conditioning and the bartenders couldn’t go astray?
Either way, I give it 3 farm animals out of 5, which is pretty good considering they’d been open for 3 days.
32 York St