Clocktower Bar at Shell House is a deep-red late-night cocoon of cocktails and crullers nine storeys above the street.
The charm of the Clocktower Bar, part of the meticulously restored Shell House’s restaurant, three bars and rooftop terrace at Wynyard, begins in a narrow city laneway with a pomade-haired concierge in glossy winklepicker boots.
“Hello to you,” he says, smiling. “Let me take you in.”
Into a blink-and-you-miss-it foyer he goes, pressing level nine in a lift and whooshing us up to a second concierge’s greeting and a long open kitchen where white-jacketed chefs slice mushrooms, spoon caviar and sear steaks. Next, you’re in the deep-red cocoon of the Clocktower Bar, with its soft burgundy velvet chairs, jarrah walls and a wildly patterned granite counter.
Take time to look up. The bar, which feels like a private club inside Shell House’s Commercial Palazzo-style building, sits below the square void of the building’s restored 1930s-built 400-tonne clock.
Since opening in 2021, it’s often been described as a Mad Men-style space, but I prefer to think of the late, great David Lynch who probably would have loved its lush ruby carpet, and wall sconces made from off-cuts of the Patagonian granite. Guests drink cocktails and eat spiced almonds on claret-red banquettes.
Food comes from culinary director Joel Bickford, who also oversees the menus for Shell House’s Dining Room and Terrace, Sky Bar, and Menzie’s Bar and Bistro. Dishes are snacky and range from exquisitely presented scallops, scampi and abalone, to the rich deep-fried Italian dough ball known as zeppole.
There is an extensive wine list across all the Shell House venues, but Clocktower’s drinks drawcard is the signature cocktails created by bar director Josh Reynolds. “The White Lotus” (named after the TV series) is a fabulous blend of gin, guava, feijoa, salted plum, grapefruit vermouth and eucalyptus. It’s bittersweet, fruity and fragrant. Equally excellent is the spicy watermelon margarita, the bar’s most ordered cocktail.
Meanwhile, a Coconut Supernova Sour features peach, tequila-infused coconut flesh, Summer Flowers vermouth (from Melbourne’s Saison Aperitifs label), rose and fresh lemon. It’s a heady drink, the citrus and coconut balancing sharp and mellow, and perfect for still-warm March weather. I can also recommend pairing it with a brilliant-green pistachio tart that’s all delicate pastry and nutty crunch.
The cruller comes as a twirl of deep-fried pastry bearing a ribboned wig of whipped fish roe and white anchovy. Abalone is skewered in slender slices with shiitake mushroom and a vroom of chicken fat. And if you’re up for pushing the boat out, there’s spanner crab and oscietra caviar served with cultured cream. (You may also be inclined to accept the waiter’s offer to swish a whopping great slice of warm A.P Bakery fenugreek and sesame bread through the pond of flavours left on the plate.)
The Clocktower dishes are also part of Shell House’s restaurant menu, meaning you can dabble in two-hatted dining while revelling in what feels like temporary membership of an evening club. It is also the venue’s last place to close, with a license that can go until 4am if the occasion calls for it, and a kitchen that takes orders until 11pm.
The only drawback may be the propensity for private bookings to swallow the bar up entirely on Friday and Saturday nights. Perhaps seek out that doorman with the slicked hair and pointy shoes on Tuesday or Wednesday instead.
The low-down
Atmosphere: Plush timber-lined bar housed beneath the interior of a 1930s-built clock
Go-to dishes: Pistachio tart ($12); cruller with whipped fish roe and white anchovy ($12); abalone, shiitake and chicken fat ($34)
Cost: About $90 for two, excluding drinks and caviar
Restaurant reviews, news and the hottest openings served to your inbox.
