The best bars in Sydney's CBD right now

The second of four box-fresh establishments to open at Shell House, the Sky Bar is an Art Deco dream in earthy hues – a palette of burnt umbers, rich terracottas and creamy tones. The design throughout these upper levels of Shell House is a luxurious ode to the building’s unmistakable clock tower – a glazed stone monolith watching over the Sky Bar’s alfresco terrace. Angular, geometric lines, in the weave of the upholstery and the marble mosaic floors, nod to this giant timepiece’s boxy frame, while circular tables and elegantly rounded armchairs mimic the curves and swerves of its clock face.

More bartenders should sport double-breasted dinner jackets. More cocktail bars should play jazz hits and lounge covers at conversation-enhancing volume. And more hosts should welcome guests as eagerly as owner Stefano Catino does at Maybe Sammy. It’s a polished affair bathed in Golden Age glamour. Creative director Andrea Gualdi has assembled one of Sydney’s most pedigreed squads of shakers and stirrers, and their commitment to quality is apparent in almost every glass.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one: Barbarella, the Jetsons and Austin Powers walk into a bar… The vibe of the top-to-bottom refurbishment of Sydney Tower’s top floor, now home to the loftiest cocktail lounge in the city, is not so much a nod to the ‘60s as it is a full-throated power ballad to the kitschest, campest, most swinging design trends of the age. Sitting 83 storeys above street level, it's got killer views of the city and beyond, and in addition to a delicious cocktail list, it's also open until 2am.

There is no bar in Sydney embracing the mad craft of cocktail experimentation as whole heartedly as the team at PS40, nor any having as much fun doing it. They almost seem to take it as a personal challenge, which is why they’ll take your milk punch and raise it with a King’s Cup of leftover spirits infused with honeycomb, poppy seeds, caraway, grapefruit, mandarin and whey. 

In the basement of a heritage warehouse in Sydney’s CBD you’ll find a Sicilian-inspired cocktail bar named for the ill-fated wife of Michael Corleone in Francis Ford Coppola's 1972 mobster masterpiece, The Godfather. But don’t let that put you off. For those of us who have been lying about having seen The Godfather their whole lives, good news. Every page of the drinks menu will run you through the storyline (spoilers lie within, but it’s literally been 50 years) so you can impress your date with cinematic knowledge while sipping on a Letter Never Sent, a standout concoction of wheat vodka, honey liquor, pineapple, clove, housemade almond syrup and fresh nutmeg, shaken and served over ice.

Created by the team behind multi-award-winning cocktail bar Maybe Sammy, this lofty lounge isn’t just resting on the laurels of its penthouse perch, 22 storeys up atop the A by Adina hotel tower. George Livissianis’ interiors are a glossy timewarp of tiger-striped carpets, dusky-veined black marble, leather upholstery and brushed brass accents that mirror both the amber sunsets in the afternoon and the golden illuminations that light up the double-height ceilings after dark. It’s Vegas. It’s Mafia-chic. It’s the Rat Pack and Mad Men and Frank Sinatra crooning to Monroe and Kennedy. 

Things are thoroughly cheeky at the Ramblin’ Rascal Tavern's second venture, down in a booze-stocked, retro-panelled bunker straight from Boogie Nights, with a soundtrack to match. The crew, too, look every bit the part – rocking bowling shirts, booty shorts, tennis socks and slick quiffs, all too eager to hand you a VHS case with a risqué cover that turns out to be the drinks menu. Elsewhere you might find yourself flipping through pages of punny names, garish descriptions and outlandish illustrations before landing on something you’d consider knocking back, but not here.

At the end of a service alley, a step back from the CBD bustle, gold light spills out onto the asphalt. There’s a scent of lime in the air, the sound of Boston shakers, and somewhere behind it, just a hint of danger. This is Cantina OK, the standing-room-only bar that since February of 2019 has plied Sydney with good, clean, sort-of illicit fun fuelled by mezcal and backed up by one of the sharpest bar teams in the city. Pick a day – any day – and the Cantina will be rocking it, two or three tenders ably servicing the 20 or so drinkers who cram in at any one time from when the roller door opens till close at 2am.

One hundred and two steps. Rooftop bars are not for the faint of quad. But all that thigh-burning just primes you for the reveal: swing open the door at the top and there you are, in a lushly planted oasis in the Sydney skyline. A smiling bartender hands you a VB throwdown while you flip through the menu. A bowtie is slung around their neck unknotted, Rat Pack-style. It might only be a quarter past six down on street level, but up here, it’s always time to take it easy. 

You could definitely jam a dozen or so more bodies in the 60-seat space, but this is a civilised place, a table-service-only zone with very limited standing room. Save for the glass frontage, there are no windows inside, which lets the moody, monochromatic forest-green colour scheme cast a very seductive spell. When you settle into a sturdy chair or a bouncy stretched leather banquette, a member of the very attentive, waistcoated waitstaff will place a dainty ramekin of devilishly addictive spiced nuts on your little table and ask you what kind of water you’d like.

This underground rum bar below Clarence Street is named after Cuban sugar baron Julio Lobo. A cluttered but cohesive mix of flamingo tiles, rattan chairs, banana palms and crumbling patina surfaces provide weathered Cuban charm. But the real visual focus is the bartenders. They create with precision. And fire, if you order the Old Grogram. Slip into the Chesterfield booth seating and prepare for a fabulous tiki mini-break for your mouth (the kitsch cocktail illustrations on the menu will help you decide on a destination)

The Duke of Clarence boasts all the trappings of a 19th Century tavern, right down to the potted red geraniums above the door. They can pull you a perfect pint of Guinness, but really, this is a bar in pub’s clothing: a slender, licensed slice of the city designed to transport you to a different time and place. The sincerity elevates it above a themed bar – everything looks, feels and smells expensive, from the floorboards imported from the UK to the bubbled glass dividers, framed lithographs and the gin-scented handwash in the bathrooms.

A big part of the reason everyone’s trying to cram in here is the tiny drinks. For anyone who loves the social aspect of an afterwork bevvy but doesn’t jive on gallons of mid-week booze, may we present this teeny Martini, a 60ml three-sipper. And it’s brought its friends: the mini Negroni, the 100ml pour of a minerally, savoury viura from Rioja; and a smashable, citrusy sangria on tap that’s served with enough ice to withstand a heatwave. Short drinks mean you can go on a beverage safari any time and stroll, not roll, home. Brilliant. 

They’re not afraid to serve the Bitter Truth at Sydney’s hidden voodoo bar, and that’s because it’s an excellent cocktail, and not your friend telling you how badly you disgraced yourself the night before. A bracingly sour mix of lime juice, Averna and tiki bitters is balanced by sloe gin, and it’ll soothe ruffled feathers and stop a shame spiral in its tracks. 

‘Alley’ is a fair term here, given that headlights from cars leaving the garage opposite shine into the bar giving everything a slightly upmarket Blade Runner glow. The space used to be a conference room belonging to the Ultimo Hotel, but it’s far better as a sleek whisky bar in muted tones, where they have installed whisky lockers if you’re fancy enough to spring for a whole bottle that you’ll slowly drink on concurrent visits.

If, god forbid, anyone ever flipped on the grown-up lights at the Ramblin’ Rascal, what might it look like? A barely renovated former comedy club in the basement of a nondescript city office block full of dentists, orthodontists and maxillofacial surgeons. The booths are vinyl and the carpet is – well, the less said about the carpet the better. Eyes front, people. But show us another bar team in the state that can so readily be recognised by their skull logos alone. The rascals who make up the core team at the Rascal are so clearly delineated in look, roles and manner they might as well have their own trading cards.

“Excuse me sir, is this where the psychic is? “Nah mate, this is a bar called Employees Only.” So much for speakeasy subterfuge. Back in New York in 2004, when Employees Only opened, the neo-Prohibition aesthetic was getting a head of steam. Drinks were strong, waistcoats were big, moustaches were waxed. Opening behind a clairvoyant shopfront on Hudson Street, it was an essential part of the craft cocktail revolution.

The city already had Stitch, a bar hidden behind a seamstress, but we love being in on the secret, so a gin palace hidden behind a full functioning barber shop was right up our alley. And they really love gin here. There’s north of 80 bottles on the menu at this low-lit hideaway with a slight terrarium vibe, including a vintage collection for people with money to burn. They also feature Genever, the Dutch spirit from which gin originates.

Beauty and convenience don’t always go hand in hand, but Opera Bar is a glam exception to the rule. It manages to be both one of the most enviably located bars in the city as well as its most advantageous spot for a pre-show drink. Not everyone is a fan of the hustle and bustle of this harbourside watering hole, but there's no denying that the buzz here, especially on a sunny Friday arvo after clocking up, is part of its charm, alongside its jaw-dropping location adjacent to Australia's two most famous icons. 

You might not be able to go back in time, but you can spend your nights drinking cocktails, listening to jazz and eating things with varying levels of melted cheese on them, which isn’t a bad consolation prize for the 21st century lot. At Palmer and Co the staff are dressed as flappers, there’s a live band and everything smells amazing because they’re cooking mac’n’cheese and pretzels with a cheese fondue dipping sauce in the open kitchen.

Not only one of the CBD's finest, this revolving wonder could also qualify as one of the most underrated bars in the city. Sat atop the distinctive Harry Seidler-designed tower at Australia Square, a stone's throw from Wynyard, O Bar will (slowly) whisk you past views of Sydney from one horizon to another. One of its distinctive party tricks is the bar's use of liquid nitrogen to chill its glassware. When your drink is delivered to your table, before it's decantered, your server will cast the super-chilled liquid to the floor in a cascade of smokey magic, evaporating before it hits the carpet.