The Old Growler

The Old Growler is certainly an old gambler. What a spot he's picked.

We're a drunken kebab's throw from the Coca-Cola sign in an area better known for bad backpacker hostels and taxi jams, but lo and behold, here we have a beautiful basement escape that mixes classy cocktails and pumps out local beers and rustic-style European bar food.

If there's one thing Sydney is showing lately, it's that a grim location means nothing if you've got the goods.

Who would think people would flock to a desolate laneway in Chippendale until Freda's? Or Clarence Street after dark until Baxters? The right people can open the right bar in a black hole these days and people will come.

Let's hope it's true for this venture from Jack Brown of Ching-a-lings and Alexander Watts and Nick Watney of Runcible Spoon.

The discreet entrance to The Old Growler leads down to a former 1960s Italian men's club, now a cave of Spanish pavers, ornate arches and long, plain tables.

At first glance it looks like a typical cantina-style bar, with its mess hall-style communal tables, but closer inspection reveals it to be more like a quaint European homestead.

There are posies of flowers on the table, polished wooden coasters, Bon Iver on the stereo and artisan salt and pepper ready to be sprinkled on beer bread.

It's a simple, beautiful spot designed with subtle perfection by Matt Woods and Ksubi's Toby Jones.

Dim lights blanket the place in a romantic glow perfect for date night, but not so perfect when squinting at the ridiculously tiny font on the menus.

Eventually, I see a lovely Eastside Fizz (white tea and pear-infused gin, lime, mint, $18) and G's Love Letter (Canadian Club whiskey infused with tropical summer hops, apricot liqueur, mint, orange, ginger, agave, $17) by Ivy Den bartender Mirce Gesovski.

Both were tall glasses decorated elegantly and enlivened with bright flavours and fizz.

Neither tasted very strong - more like beautiful home-made sodas - and we move to the beers, all from Young Henry's, the Newtown brewery quickly dominating the Sydney scene.

Try the Real Thang ($7) if you dare - a fantastic spiced black Koelsch that looks exactly like Coca-Cola and surprisingly easy to drink - or an unsweetened cloudy cider ($6.50).

The food is simple, elegant European-style comfort dishes such as soft pillows of gnocchi with figs, basil, hazelnuts and gorgonzola ($16) or salmon fish cakes with peas and mint ($17).

The wine list, put together by Tom Egan of Jed Wines, is full of little gems that experiment with grape skin contact, sustainable production and organic ingredients, and the Alpamanta malbec ($10) is the pick of the bunch.

This place is a little beauty. It's highly unusual for its surrounds and promotes great (albeit not cheap) food and drink while staying super-sustainable, from using leftover hops in the cocktails to feeding excess grain from the brewery to the cattle, which ultimately return to the kitchen.

The challenge will be whether the place can retain the highly refined air on a busy night. It's a concept built around the little things - the delicate drinks, the quaint touches, the long-winded explanations about sustainable wine or organic beer - and the edges start to fray when it gets hectic.

The staff are airheaded, even on a quiet night: knowledge of the menu is patchy, the beer bread doesn't come when we order it, water is forgotten. But there's too much good stuff here for this gamble not to pay off.

YOU'LL LOVE IT IF … you want a casual hangout that still does top-notch food and drink.

YOU'LL HATE IT IF … you're expecting it to be like the rest of Kings Cross.

GO FOR … G's Love Letter, Young Henry's Real Thang, the beer bread, the gnocchi.