27-05-2025
Henry Sugar
It's no secret that Carlton North, Brunswick East, Northcote and Fitzroy North are Melbourne's holy quadrants for wine bar -seeking pilgrims. On every corner in these parts, it seems, there's a reliably schmick one that can be counted on. Eight years on, Henry Sugar – a wine and cocktail bar named after a character from a Roald Dahl short story – stands up to the quality of its Northside neighbours both old and new.
There's an appealing edginess to the bar; gloomy industrial '80s new wave music murmurs out onto the street and the lighting inside is dim but tastefully warm. It's three parts quaint, elegant and a little punk, and you can't help but wonder why more people aren't talking about it. Especially when you consider Henry Sugar's cracker 'No Waste' Monday night deal.
Since a different $45 menu is served every Sunday lunch ('because it's fun and keeps us on our toes,' executive chef Mike Baker explained), a snack menu is then created from the leftovers the following day. These small plates range in price from just $5 (a bowl of braised chickpeas) to $14 (a kangaroo skewer with tomato chutney).
Now I wouldn't normally recommend starting your week with a whole lot of liquor, but the drinks list at Henry Sugar is hard to resist. By-the-glass options lean Victorian, while signature cocktails make creative use of local ingredients and producers. I'm especially smitten with the $10 half-glass pours of 'old wine' bought on auction; tonight the bar has a 1998 Campbells durif and upon tasting, it's a gorgeously full-bodied, sticky-rich drop.
Nevertheless, I opt for the House Spritz: an Aussie native amaro blend, fermented orange, mandarin and prosecco. Despite a finish that dangerously edges too bitter, a well-iced glass of sexy salty-citrus is just what I need on my lips at the end of a workday. My friend is running quite late, so I'm already about two bevs down by the time he arrives (I've also enjoyed the $10 full glass of Bertrand Bespoke's mourvedre, which is probably the best house red I've enjoyed at this price, anywhere, ever); safe to say, food is very much needed by this point.
A round of oysters with Henry Sugar's punchy Ho Chi Mignonette starts us off, before mini pocket-sized pies of flaky pastry encasing a crumbly rabbit and cavolo nero mixture are brought to the table. Rustic yet robust in flavour, they're suggestive of pitch-perfect chef technique.
There's a lot of good-looking options on the a la carte, too – Shark Bay scallops with corn custard and jalapeno tajin; rock flathead with confit garlic, turmeric, dill and gai lang; cheese and local honeycomb – but it's the charcoal chicken thigh with enoki and charred leek that wins our selection. It's a smoky, fire-licked bite, grounded by the earthiness of a velvety 'shroom sauce.
Admittedly with Henry Sugar, there is a touch of roughness around the edges. Even though I'm there only about two hours after the bar has opened, the Monday special chicken karaage has 'run out' according to the bartender. And while our portion of braised chickpeas with fennel is somewhat cleansing in its nourishing simplicity, it could do with a dash of panache (even in the form of just a little more seasoning).
Nevertheless, a freshly made tarte tatin at the end is an autumn treat well worth the 20-minute wait and the fun drinks – an ode to buttery toast in the form of a sweet Milk Punch and a medicinal-leaning Corpse Reviver – keep my friend and I kicking on long after others have left. Whether you pop in for Henry Sugar's $3 oyster hour (5 to 6pm), luxuriate over a long Sunday lunch or do what I did and get tipsy with a mate on a Monday night, there's no disputing that this lil' old local can still play new tricks.
