It may not be what we were expect­ing from a “West Hol­ly­wood lounge exper­i­ence”, but all that money cer­tainly has ensured that Fox­glove is a vastly more impress­ive visu­al exper­i­ence than the ol’ Loaded Hog. But a bar is not just about the pretty, so how does it stack up? See what the ‘fly thinks after the jump.

Beer: For an alleged brew­ery, the Loaded Hog always served dread­ful beer. Fox­glove’s selec­tion may not impress ded­ic­ated hop­heads (get thee to Hashigo Zake!), but there are a few quasi-inter­est­ing drops (Leffe Blonde, Little Creatures) amongst the dross. It’s just a pity that the drinks list can­’t spell “Hoegarden” (sic) or “Guiness” (really sic).

Wine: The wine list is sol­id if unad­ven­tur­ous, with an emphas­is on famil­i­ar, easy-to-drink vari­etals, and a decent selec­tion by the glass. It’s all very Kiwi-cent­ric, with a few Aus­sie reds, and while I’m all for a sens­ible approach to redu­cing booze miles, it would be nice if more bars real­ised that there’s more to Europe than Cham­pagne and Port.

Cock­tails: The house cock­tails are an admir­able blend of neg­lected clas­sics (Income Tax, Avi­ation, Aper­ol Spritz) and more recent con­coc­tions … though should­n’t we be thor­oughly over the Fall­ing Water by now? This fly is yet to try any of their more spe­cial­ist recipes, but our cock­tail exper­i­ences here have ranged from a couple of more than ser­vice­able Mar­tinis to what one acknow­ledged expert described as “the worst Man­hat­tan of his life”. Oh dear.

Food: After a rare rave review from Dav­id Bur­ton, we had to try the food, and in gen­er­al it did not dis­ap­point. There’s the odd fusionesque touch, but most of the menu leans towards mod­ern European, with an emphas­is on lux­ury ingredi­ents such as truffles, ven­ison, oysters and foie gras. They can play fast and loose with defin­i­tions (just what is “Wagyu farm lot reared ven­ison” when it’s at home?), but there are some truly deli­cious dishes to be had, such as the roast duck with lav­ender and Valrhona chocol­ate reduc­tions.

The sides are just as mouth-water­ing, and the small plates range from adequate to deli­cious: sorry, geese, but the foie gras par­fait with fig jam & cor­nichons was worth your sac­ri­fice. A word of warn­ing: the mains look like good value at mostly $23–29, but des­pite the gen­er­os­ity of the meat servings, most come with no starch or veg, so plan to buy some sides.

Music: On one occa­sion there seemed to be a jazz band warm­ing up early in the even­ing, but it’s mostly piped tunes, tend­ing towards the loud side. There’s the usu­al boomer-friendly “clas­sics”, and a rel­at­ively inof­fens­ive cross-sec­tion of recent pop, plus a few sur­pris­ingly quasi-hip­ster­ish choices such as Lady­hawke and LCD Sound Sys­tem.

Decor: There cer­tainly are some spec­tac­u­lar set pieces to jus­ti­fy the mega­bucks, such as the two-storey liv­ing wall and the green-tiled main bar. The spher­ic­al hanging lights & bas­kets out­side worked rather nicely, though the out­door booths looked rough and unfin­ished. Hav­ing a col­lec­tion of ran­dom knick-knacks seems de rigueur these days (hello, Bettys), but the use of bell jars and uni­form white paint (white-painted dino­saurs!) helps Fox­glove’s ver­sion seem slightly less arbit­rary.

Con­vert­ing a beer barn into some­thing more intim­ate requires a care­ful approach to defin­ing sep­ar­ate spaces, and that had mixed res­ults. The din­ing area some­how man­ages to feel cold and isol­ated yet uncom­fort­ably close to the ruck­us at the bar. Voile cur­tains go some way towards divid­ing up one of the upstairs spaces, but when it’s busy the crowds tend to blur all the dis­tinc­tions between areas. The “Nar­nia ward­robe” almost works, but Fox­tail just seems like a slightly quieter ver­sion of the main bar, which is a bit of a let down.

Ser­vice: On a quiet even­ing everything seems to go smoothly, but a busy Fri­day really tested the staff and sys­tems. They deserve points for hand­ling the Eft­pos fail­ures and bar queues with good grace, but table ser­vice struggled and things got just a little bit sham­bol­ic.

Atmo­sphere: So what does all this add up to? It depends upon the night, your mood and your expect­a­tions. On a fine mid­week even­ing this would be a won­der­ful spot for a quiet­ish after-work drink or a full meal. It suf­fers from the inev­it­able Curse of Lamb­ton, so it’s nev­er going to be a bohemi­an hangout, but it’s a def­in­ite leap up from the Hog. As a fly, I love a bit of a buzz, but Fri­day nights seem to get rauc­ous with a post-office crowd without being enter­tain­ingly debauched.

So, if you’re after a rather more styl­ish ver­sion of the Thistle or Occi, then this is def­in­itely the place for you. If you want some­thing more like the prom­ised “lounge” exper­i­ence, it would pay to book a table upstairs or in Fox­tail. Things might settle down with time, but in the mean­time, I’ve got my com­pound eye on a little place around the back: the former “Hugo’s” is about to reopen as “Cuckoo”, thanks to the McK­en­zie broth­ers … and they really know how to run a cock­tail lounge.