Bar Hanami has entered its “loosen your waistband and stop pretending you’re only here for one drink” era – with the moody Japanese-inspired whisky bar tucked beneath street level now serving bottomless dumplings for less than $50pp
Yes. Unlimited. Don’t need to keep tab plates. For 90 minutes. In a cherry blossom-pink speakeasy that sure likes prettier than your belly will, when you’re subtly trying to pretend you’re not 78% carbohydrate. (Pro tip: Don’t bother. You’re here for a good time, not a long time. so roll with it)
For $40 per person, you get 90 minutes of all-you-can-eat steamed, fried and saucy dumplings and bites, designed for maximum rotation and zero self-control.
The menu is doing the most (as it should):
Pork buns (best seller energy), prawn dumplings (GF, also best seller – they get it), duck dumplings, pork soup dumplings, chicken and spinach dumplings, pork and prawn siu mai – plus edamame and Hanami fries for anyone still pretending this is a balanced decision. LOL.
Available Tuesday–Thursday 5–8pm, plus Friday and Saturday 12–3pm, it covers every possible scenario: lunch that turns into chaos, dinner that turns into “should we order one more round?”, and everything in between.
The only rules: 90 minutes from booking, minimum two people, and one drink per person (alcoholic or mocktail). Because yes, even dumpling utopias have guidelines.
And while the dumplings are clearly the main event, Bar Hanami is also quietly doing what it does best: mood, contrast, and slightly unhinged atmosphere.
Upstairs is all soft Geisha-gal glow – a pink-lit room that makes everything feel a little more cinematic than it needs to be.
Downstairs, things shift.
The whisky dungeon feels like it was built inside an old boat and left to develop its own personality. Darker, tighter, a little mysterious in a “you’ve definitely stayed longer than planned” kind of way.
Between the two, the night moves how you do – up, down, slow, messy, extended.
At the centre sits Adam Tremont’s 17-year whisky collection. Serious, stacked, slightly intimidating. Rare pours like Glenmorangie Pride 1984 sit alongside more approachable drops, so you can either sip with confidence or fake it convincingly.
Then the cocktails interrupt the seriousness entirely.
Fairy Floss Tingle. Lychee Sau Wau. Drinks that sound like a dare but go down far too easily.
Want to give off the illusion that you’ve got a little more restraint. In the kitchen, Chef Babita Jaishi is slining the kind of things you can eat with slightly more restraint. Like Wagyu cheeseburger spring rolls and an killer seafood laksa xiao long bao.
But let’s be honest: none of that is the headline anymore. Because right now, Bar Hanami is doing one thing very well. Bottomless dumplings. $40pp. 90 minutes. No regrets in sight.
Image credits: Trent van der Jagt
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