The Christchurch Temperance Society

Feb 10

Jamie Hanton finds some tasty treats at The Christchurch Temperance Society, or TCTS for short.

Cave cool

"Are you sure it's a bar?" I was asked before visiting The Christchurch Temperance Society. It seems a fair question, given the apparent contradiction of The Christchurch Temperance Society (TCTS): a bar that bears the name of a movement that grew in the late 19^th century and sought to prevent the consumption of alcohol. In fact, the borough of Sydenham in 1889 elected a temperance-friendly licensing committee, which rescinded all liquor licences in the area. The decision was eventually overturned, and now, over a century later, in a location a few kilometres north, hidden down an alley, as you might expect a prohibition-era speakeasy to be, there exists a temple dedicated to the true joys of the grape and the grain.

Indeed, it would be hard to stumble upon TCTS without prior knowledge and, as a relatively new bar, this perhaps explains the rather subdued crowd present at the start of this particular Friday night. That said, the quietness and semi-industrial seclusion, with a car park outside, lends TCTS an air of exclusivity. Any exterior surroundings become meaningless though, when, with one step through the door, everything disappears into inky darkness. Low-hanging light bulbs and flickering candles are the sole source of light.

We were drawn, moth-like, through the intimate lounge-booth layout to the almost angelic golden light of the small but well-stocked bar. I asked Ed, the bartender, for something dark and warming. Manhattan with a twist? Sure. We leant at the bar and watched him create - mixing, shaking, then slicing an orange, as if he were filleting a fish. He primed the peel with a cigarette lighter before spraying the oils into the glass, the lighter becoming a makeshift flame-thrower. It was done with absolute aplomb. The result was a tart, aniseed elixir with an unforgettable smoky orange tang.

Back at the table, we lounged on the low black leather couches in the darkness, able to talk over the ambient soul and hip hop. The crowd at TCTS was laidback but cheerful, gathered at the bar and spread around in booth-pockets. Our light-drinking friend was enjoying his earthy flavoursome Green Fern Organic beer ($8).

After the twisted Manhattan ($16), I went back to discover what was in the paper-bagged wine bottles I'd seen. Wicked-looking things they were: brown bags bearing skull and crossbones. These mysterious artefacts were the $7 special, coming in red and white. Even when pressed, staff would not give up the identity of the mystery drop. So, with no real choice but to try it, I succumbed and had a glass of the red. While it wasn't likely to win any medals, it went down easily enough.

As the second part of our group arrived, we decided to move into an even darker corner, just to see how dark it was. Consequently, one of the party walked into a low black table, though that had more to do with carelessness than any real health and safety issues.

To further test staff, we asked for something dark, something light, and something with a cinnamon swizzle stick. They detoured off the drinks list and delivered an espresso-inspired kicker called Nights in Zagreb made with the Croatian liquor Orahovac. The lighter side - a refreshing citrus and lemon-pepper-infused number named The Brazilian - didn't come from the playbook either. Each cocktail was delivered to the table with a gracious smile and met with hearty approval. Each was about $15.

Food? Cab? suggested the chalk words next to the bar. We weren't done yet, so we went for the former, the extent of which was nuts and olives ($4 for two dishes). The obliging Ed offered to go and get hot food, which we appreciated, but declined. We popped olives from the very generous portion and kicked back. Midnight struck and brought a surge of fresh patrons, who quickly melted into the couches.

Fed, watered and almost utterly contented, the restrooms behind the black door beckoned. Gauging from the level of service we'd received to this point, we needn't have been surprised to find that the toilets were hotel issue.

This only enforces the impression that every aspect of TCTS seems geared to ensure everyone is well looked after, which makes The Christchurch Temperance Society a very welcome addition to the scene. Located away from the bedlam, it is a chic and sophisticated drinking lounge with none of the associated attitude. It retains the warmth of a local pub and the quality of the booze would, perhaps, make the advocates of temperance proud, for there is no doubt that slugging back the cocktails would be a crime, indeed. They are something to be savoured in the carefree luxury of the dusky environment.

Where: 232 Tuam Street, down the alley between McKenzie and Willis and Workshop.

Hours: Wednesday to Saturday, 5pm-late.

Wine: A wide European-Kiwi range, with some interesting selections.

Prices: Very fair for the quality.  

Service: Flawless. 

Ambience: Cave-lounge cool.

Amenities: Pristine, unisex, with solid doors and new porcelain.