A small room on Crown Street with the lights turned low and a bar made for sitting at, for the kind of conversation that lasts past midnight.
Buffalo Trace, demerara, smoked orange oil, two dashes of house bitters. Stirred slow over a single hand-cut stone.
Rittenhouse rye, Averna, Angostura, Regan's orange. Brandied cherry, lemon coin.
Mezcal, lime, agave, egg white, charred chipotle salt around half the rim. A house favourite for ten years.
Tanqueray No. Ten, Cocchi Americano, Suze. Built in the glass, lemon twist expressed and dropped.
Laphroaig 10, pear eau-de-vie, lemon, honey, a brief mist of Islay over the top of the coupe.
Beluga Gold, Dolin Dry, a single drop of olive brine. Served at minus six. Chilled glass, no garnish.
Black Velvet opened in 2011 in a back room that used to be a tailor's. The bar is twelve seats, the lighting is by candle and a single brass lamp, and the music is never above the conversation.
We stir most things, shake when we have to, and pour with one hand on the bottle and one on the count.
"The room hasn't changed in fourteen years. Neither have we."
Every drink that crosses the bar is cut over a single hand-carved stone. Slow dilution. Cold without water. The way a stirred drink should be.
The room holds twelve. So does the ice well. Twelve seats, twelve pours, one bartender — that is the bar.
441 Crown Street
Surry Hills, Sydney
Reservations for parties of four or more