Little Blood

We’re big fans of tequila at Time Out. You may even recall that we recently cleared its name as the harbinger of evil, explaining that hangovers and bruises were the fault of the cheap and nasty gear. We take it back. Tequila bar Little Blood has been open for one month, and it’s already been on fire – twice.

The first fire was an accident – their candle ringed statue of Mary combusted – which says a lot, symbolically. The second time was on purpose – which says everything. Phil Bayly did it. He’s the owner of Sydney’s oldest tequila bar Café Pacifico, and since he is also generally regarded as ‘the boss’ of tequila, that’s a blessing you can take to the bank.

Squatting on top of Kodiak Club, this place has good times and bad consequences written all over it. The bar sits behind a pair of spaghetti western saloon doors, lights dimmed, tables scattered, a slew of sombreros aloft. There's even a couple of one-man hammocks in the corners, almost implying you could have a mid-session power nap. You can’t. This bar has been enthusiastically slammed from the second they opened – and hell, you might end up on fire.

You’re looking at a menu of tequila and tequila here, with naught but a bottle of gin, vodka and some Mexican cervesas as back-up. But the good news is, it’s all the primo gear, and they’re turning that Mexican gold into some pretty ace drinks.

Paul Ramsey (former can shaker for the Galley Room), is the man behind the bar, but he goes by Pablo Ramirez now. He’s rocking a moustache and doing everything that a man with 80 plus bottles of tequila can do and then some. How about an Angel de Oro? It’s a mix-up of marmalade, lemon, blanco tequila (which is the un-aged gear) fluffed up with an egg white and dotted with three neat drops of bitters. Pretty, but it’ll put you in a sleeper hold as quick as the Mexican wrestler it was named for.

Or perhaps you prefer to drink your tequila like a boss? In which case, ask Ramirez for a slug of 7 Leguas Blanco with some sangrita on the side. This red shot translates as ‘little blood’ (yep, there it is), and their version of the tomato-citrus-chilli side-sipper gets infused with chipotle peppers, so it’s smoky and hot in all the right places. Or if you can’t handle the heat, try the verdita. It’s the green cousin made with green jalapenos, coriander, mint and pineapple juice, which hits a syrupy measure of Tromba blanco square in the eye.

Of course, you’ll be expecting a side of tacos, but how’s this for rocking the boat? They ain’t serving ‘em and don’t intend to. We say stock up on some buffalo wings downstairs first, or ascend the stairs sans buffer at your own risk. In fact, wings or no, that disclaimer stands.

Tequila fueled good times are guaranteed. Your virtue is not.