SIN + TAX
JOHANNNESBURG
It’s not without a sheepish grin that Julian Short talks almost evangelically about how he wants to play a role in making cocktails more accessible. The sheepishness is because, as he’s saying the words it’s hard to ignore the fact that we’re tucked into a (sexily dim) corner of Sin + Tax, his bar that’s hidden behind an anonymous black door With no sign. Down an alley. Next to a parking lot. With a strict admittance policy.
So much for accessible. Insert cry-laughing emoji face.
And yet, somewhat disarmingly, he totally sells it. Because he completely and utterly means it. For all that
Sin + Tax potentially has the trappings of it, pretension plays absolutely no part in the tiny, exposed brick, glass and leather nook that is a gemstone in the dust of Joburg’s nascent cocktail scene.
Wait. “Scene” doesn’t feel like the right word. Any given night here is a Choice Assorted biscuit box of Joburg’s most eclectic, all gathering in the grip of a city’s thirsty summer – and that really shouldn’t be reduced to a “scene”. It also feels like, although Julian is instinctively savvy about the role of social-media hashtags and Instagram posts (Sin + Tax and its drinks are gorgeous), he’s definitely not a slave to them. “A good bartender can give you the history of a city, a good bar is how you can define a city.” And by this metric Sin + Tax and Joburg are spiritual twins, easy to overlook, yet welcoming and beautiful if you stop and make the effort.
Truthfully, the “secret”, hidden quality of Sin + Tax is actually Julian’s sincere homage to the Prohibition
Era speakeasies he loves so madly. It is meant to hide his gently dark bubble and provide cover for the discerningly thirsty. Because, once you’re inside, it really is one of the most friendly, warmhearted places in which to have a drink. After all, this is where David Beckham was able to hang out anonymously for a whole night on one of the generously stuffed leather Churchill sofas. It’s where South Africa’s rock-star restauranteurs gather after service (they get a 15% discount at the bar), and captains of industry, journalists, bankers, Fridaynight revellers, T-shirts and ties all settle into their corners and gratefully accept their golden haze in a glass.
Thankfully, there is zero place on Julian’s menu for children’s TV-showesque rainbows of sugary syrup designed to hide meagre quantities of alcohol; or single measures of over-engineered science experiment served in a bespoke
“This is where David Beckham was able to hang out anonymously for a night on one of the generously stuffed leather Churchill sofas”
replica of Picasso’s first tobacco pipe made from locally sourced, hand-reared organic millet fibres.
There’s definitely a playful quality to the drink design and presentation
– this isn’t an uncomfortable, austere church where a smile or a laugh during the sermon, sorry, The Making of the Cocktail, earns you a stern rebuke and a lengthy roster of Hail Marys.
Julian’s drinks are, without exception, layered and addictive – splashed, shaken, shivered, strained clutches of flavours, much like the notes of a perfume, all dancing around the tent pole of the alcohol at its base, creating something you want to drink in deeply and greedily.
Springtime is Forever is the name of his summer menu (another sheepish grin), “because in Joburg, spring basically lasts for about two days in September and I just want to stretch it out for as long as I can.” The menu features a big emphasis on garden produce and fresh, clean flavours – rhubarb, apple, peach.
But this isn’t a man to hand you a fruit juice in a fancy glass. The bar’s signature drink is The No. 9 – a beverage that rakish chef David Higgs liked so much, he threatened to boycott Sin + Tax if it was ever taken off the menu; a threat he followed through on when Julian did indeed remove it for a short while.
The No. 9 is a masterpiece of insanely drinkable complexity. And watching Julian make it is like watching one of those inflatable bendy men that flail and twirl on the side of the highway
– a blur of snapping wrists and sharp movements. Nothing is measured and there isn’t a single pause for breath or thought, yet out of this precise chaos comes a short glass with a picture of
Frida Kahlo attached to the rim and a deep red drink poured over ice. The first taste reveals flavours that are astounding and unexpected. Vinegars (yes, you read that correctly), smoky tequila and pomegranate open up a wormhole straight to shaded Mexican streets and the deep flavours of hot southernhemisphere days. And that’s what a truly great cocktail can do. Hidden behind a door. With no sign. In an alley.
Next to a parking lot.
– Jono Hall
4 Bolton Road, Parkwood, Randburg; sintaxbar.com