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It seems a lifetime since I last used my pockets to actually carry things. But I have fond, rose-coloured memories of diving my hand into their fabric-y depths to find a menagerie of nic-nacs that I’d decided to stash away on my person. Walking into Pocket Bar is kind of like walking into the pocket of a quirky well-loved jacket. A collection of bottles, flasks, clocks and other paraphernalia adorn the walls. Plump french-style lounges are butted up against a stark black and white wall of faux street art that comes off a little too pristine without the usual layer of dirt and truck smog. It’s incoherent and a little not-quite-right (that seventies-esque painting still gives me the creeps) but add an excellent selection of drinks, food and good staff and Pocket Bar has a winning combination.
A stone’s throw from Oxford Street the barhoppers nestled into the luxuriously large couches. Pocket Bar presents a decent range of wine and beer as well as an exciting array of cocktails that cater to all sorts of tastes. The Fidelflip somehow tasted both indulgent and refreshing, with Bacardi, apricot brandy, passionfruit and egg yolks. The Spiced Cider Rum Thingymebob was the answer to my winter daydreams about mulled cider. It was a tasty and interesting cocktail, but not recommended for any dry cider connoisseurs.
The food was equally appetizing with all our eyes drawn instantly as the wagyu sliders flew over our heads and mouth-watering aromas floated from the kitchen. The main attraction were the crepes that came to us wrapped up like parcels or fat envelopes begging you to look inside. The goat’s cheese and spinach crepe was moreish with the perfect degree of saltiness. The slavering of hazelnut goodness on the nutella crepe were gloriously generous and complete with fresh strawberries.
The staff were helpful, with a touch of that feeling like you’ve met them before somewhere. They remained laid-back and friendly even as a neighbour’s burnt toast saw the local fireys turn up on the doorstep. Pocket Bar proved to be somewhere you can comfortably chat and relax, with good food, drinks and – admittedly on a weekday – enough room to breathe. So squeeze yourself pass their gorgeous wrought-iron gate, Pocket Bar is a pretty decent place to get lost for a little while.
13 Burton St, Darlinghurst