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The western end of Barkly Street has a vacancy problem. On the walk to Second Hand Dealer, ‘for lease’ signs punctuate shopfronts. And yet, among the empty windows, there are people still betting on this little patch of Footscray.
Aaron Donato is one of them. I initially walk straight past Second Hand Dealer and into Bar Josephine next door, only to discover Donato co-owns both. Before opening his cocktail bar, he ran a cult-favourite pie shop, Pie Thief, from the same site. When it closed in 2023, he held onto the space. Evidently, he wasn't finished with Barkly Street.
Second Hand Dealer is quite the follow-up act. The drinks are playful, technically ambitious and involve enough tinkering to make a chemistry teacher proud. On paper, it sounds like the sort of cocktail bar that could take itself very seriously. Thankfully, nobody here seems particularly interested in doing that.
The vibe
Second Hand Dealer unfolds across a series of dark, intimate rooms, from a velvet-stooled front bar to cosy booths and larger tables out the back. Peacock-blue walls disappear beneath an eclectic collection of art – Renaissance-style portraits, abstract paintings, lino prints and a skull-and-crossbones tapestry. Heavy curtains, velvet and low lighting lend the place a touch of boudoir decadence, with swing music playing overhead.
When we arrive, we're the only people here, and sitting alone in such a sumptuous room feels a little stiff. But as the crowd filters in, Second Hand Dealer loosens its collar. People sink into the booths and conversations grow louder as tables erupt in laughter.
The staff are equally relaxed, happy to explain the elaborate processes behind the drinks without making a performance of it. The expertise is theirs; enjoying it is yours. And when the table next to us orders pizza from down the road, it feels entirely fitting.
The drinks
I have to shush my partner because he’s exclaiming so loudly at the cocktail menu. But really, who among us is too grown-up to get excited by cocktails made with Coco Pops or pork? The menu is split into signatures, classics and non-alcoholic options, plus a flight of three miniature bestsellers.
There’s a bold irreverence running throughout. One drink is simply called Cocktail Drink, designed for someone who ‘just wants a cocktail that tastes like a cocktail’, while the Margarita comes with the wonderfully decisive instruction, ‘no ice, no salt rim’. As a lifelong salt-rim avoider, I feel I may have found my people.
It takes some serious skill to pull off this much whimsy. Much like his approach at Pie Thief, Donato starts with an idea – what if a martini tasted like a banh mi? – and keeps tinkering until he gets it right. Enter the Banh M(artin)i, a cocktail that takes three days to produce, with pork-fat-washed vodka, cucumber gum, lemongrass and Maggi seasoning, plus a curl of pickled carrot. Our server also informs us that Donato eats the pork afterwards. Legend.
I’m expecting novelty. From the description, I’m also half expecting baguette crumbs to fall from my mouth with the first sip. The reality is far more nuanced. There’s bright lemongrass, savoury depth and a richness from the pork fat that isn’t oily so much as strangely moisturising. It leaves a little slickness on my lips and gives the drink a lovely weight. I’m a gin-martini girl, but if vodka martinis always tasted this interesting, I could be persuaded. My only gripe? I’d like it colder.
Nostalgia is another recurring theme. Teachers on Camp turns cornflake-infused bourbon and toasted marshmallow into something unexpectedly buttery and nutty, while Nighttime Coco Pops takes me somewhere even more familiar: the chocolatey milk left at the bottom of a cereal bowl. Coco Pops-infused whisky and clarified milk turn that childhood pleasure into something altogether more grown-up – creamy without heaviness, with woody whisky, banana and chocolate notes, plus a chewy Coco Pop bar perched on top.
By the time I get to the Chess Club, I announce that it tastes like ‘adult Just Juice’. It’s fruity and unmistakably milky, but with none of the weight you’d expect. I’m struggling to work out exactly what I’m tasting, but that feels rather beside the point. Drinking at Second Hand Dealer has a touch of Alice in Wonderland about it: familiar flavours keep reappearing in forms they have absolutely no business taking.
The food
There isn't any. Unless you count the garnishes, in which case a dirty martini with extra olives might tide you over. Better yet, you can order food from nearby and make yourself at home. Banh mi with your Banh M(artin)i, anyone?
Time Out tip
Can't decide where to start? Order the flight of three miniature cocktails. It's a neat way to get acquainted with Donato's wonderfully strange drinks without having to choose just one.
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