First review: Apollo Inn Kara Monssen reviews Gimlet’s sister bar
Posh shandies, grown-up cocktails and carby, salty snacks. Gimlet’s sister bar Apollo Inn has it all — and there’s one snack worth queuing for.
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One hundred and twenty seconds.
That’s how long it took to fill Melbourne’s hot new cocktail bar, Apollo Inn, on Saturday night. Without flinching. There’s even a waitlist by 5.02pm.
Surely that’s a record, though the allure and exclusivity of an Andrew McConnell venue isn’t new.
After the stratospheric success of Gimlet at Cavendish House, we’ve been longing to see what’s next from the Trader House crew. Gimlet 2.0? Well, kind of.
Apollo Inn is a companion venue to the glittering grand empress.
Where Gimlet is vast and light-drenched, Apollo Inn is a broodier, cosy space warmed from the smugness of the lucky 24 who either booked ahead or staged an aptly timed walk-in, like me.
Bookings have been running hotter than a summer Euro trip since early June, and unless you’re happy with a nightcap o’clock sitting or being turned away midweek, arriving sharp on the hour (maybe allow 90 minutes) is your best bet.
Swooning of old-world glam, the dim-lit space rouses to sounds of sultry sax dulcetones.
Ten or so black bentwoods flank thesturdy timber bar, while a cushy velvet banquet snakes along the other side of the room.
There are plenty of cheeky nooks to get friendly with your neighbour. Oh If these walls could talk.
I’d rather be at the bar, pressing skin with blow-ins to watch the drink wizards spin their tricks. Apollo Inn is a roll-call of Trader House talent.
Gimlet vino queen Leanne Altman is on wine duty, newcomer Katya Owens keeps things tidy on the floor and bar manager Cam Parish ensures there’s a drink in everyone’s hand.
Martinis made to your liking, posh shandies fizzing with French lager, chinotto and blood oranges, or a tequila-spiked pineapple juice that’ll put hairs on your chest.
Even Gimlet’s namesake drink comes into its own at Apollo, with an aged batch cocktail from when the restaurant first opened in 2020 on pour.
Snacks run thick and fast.
A potato focaccia ($5) doubles down on carbs and is warm, gooey and crisp where it counts. The Gilda-esque pickle, pepper and anchovy snack layers red peppers and Ortiz anchovies on a cooked baby quke ($6) for the ultimate umami bomb.
While I’m not surprised most snackery is salty, spicy and meaty (chippies heaped from the paint-sized Patatas Fratas tin, Jamon Iberico, green olives, spiced nuts) to lubricate our drink reflex, an undercurrent of freshness lives on in things like Sydney rock oysters, shucked to order and those lively Western Australia scallops drenched in a polarising orange vinaigrette.
Though I suspect the tuna tartare and sobrasada (spreadable Spanish sausage) on a crunchy toasted baguette will be a solid money maker for Apollo.
Sexy, smart, sophisticated: Gimlet’s handsome younger brother is saying all the right things in a European accent.
Just make sure you get a second date.
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