Garden Brasserie

High above a four-metre wall of living plants, in a forest-green lounge of lavish wallpaper and antique-style couches and armchairs, we briefly find nirvana.

BEYOND THE OPEN WINDOWS OF GARDEN BRASSERIE'S TREEHOUSE COCKTAIL AREA, the setting sun is turning the sky pink. A bird is twittering on a powerline outside, a slab of chocolate mousse cake has arrived and there is still a sizeable slurp left in my excellent and generously salt-rimmed margarita.

OUR LOW-LIT, WOODEN-FLOORED, INDOOR BALCONY-STYLE LOUNGE is up a flight of artificial turf-carpeted stairs with wrought-iron banisters. It overlooks an indoor courtyard of sorts with a stone-tiled floor, marble-topped tables, wooden chairs and high stools and elaborate white birdcages containing lightbulbs suspended from a high ceiling.

THE DECOR TALKING POINT IS THE THRIVING VERTICAL GARDEN, a towering wall of lush ferns and palms growing towards patrons' ears. This large bar should be a loud joint but we suspect the sideways foliage comes in handy for absorbing noise. Up in the lounge, the soft chairs and wafty fabric hung near the ceiling, Arabian boudoir-style, soothes the decibels as well.

Vibe-wise, things are buzzy. The clientele is a mix of well-groomed after-work drinkers and couples dining from the menu's main meals including tiger prawn risotto, pan-fried barramundi, roast duck breast and confit duck leg.

OUR TIPPLES HAVE BEEN A PALATE-PLEASING SUCCESS SO FAR. From the bar's list of 19 house cocktails, a Tommy's Margarita (tequila, organic agave nectar, fresh-pressed lime, $16) is a lovely balance of mouth-smacking tang and sweetness. A whiskey sour, fast becoming the test of a good bar after a previous establishment said they had "run out of pre-mixed sour ingredients", is light and flavoursome. It's laced with egg white, making it a Boston sour, served with a fragrant fat twirl of citrus skin and made with 12-year-old Canadian Club whiskey, the drink of choice for Mad Men's dapper enigma, Don Draper.

THE WINE RANGE IS NOT VAST BUT THERE IS GOOD VARIATION, particularly in the reds. A glass of 2009 Alain Brumont Tannat-Merlot ($10) is soft and zingy. Before ordering the mousse cake and that moment of nirvana mentioned earlier, things hit a snag. A cheery staff member sits with us to take the snack order.

WE TUCK INTO A POT OF MOULES MARINIERE (mussels with white wine, onion, garlic, herbs and bread, $24), shoestring fries with chilli aioli ($9) and chilli salt calamari (with chilled cucumber and peanut salad and asian chilli dressing, $17). These are all fab: fresh and tasty with good size servings. Time to keep sipping as the sky turns crimson.