Garnet Station in Westmere turned 13 in August, a teenage milestone in a turbulent year.
Now she is a bar: pretty, sophisticated, pink, pohutukawa red, coppery and candlelit, a match for any sunset straddling the clear sky of the city’s fringe. As she matured her tastes changed, even though she didn’t want the parents knowing she enjoyed a tipple. After
a childhood shunning wicked deep fried food, she now sells it. A tad cynical, but something’s gotta kill you in this time of Covid-19, and it probably won’t be panko crumbed cauliflower.
She’s learning how to pour a tap beer without too much head, how hard and long you need to shake an espresso martini to make foam for the coffee bean to float on. At last she is a bar, with glorious food as an optional bonus, advised on a first date, not necessary with an anniversary, essential for a birthday. Garnet Station loves drama and celebration, hence the arrival of the Tiny Theatre. Then lo and behold, while no one is watching she gilds the gates, waterproofs the lane, commissions a mural, and behind newspapered windows toils in the summer heat with the help of local craftsmen to transform a loved café into the lovely bar Majenta!
No more rushed mornings, much less waste, time aplenty to talk, to play music, focus on fun, be a place for hilarity, for harmony, for a decent coffee when everyone else is closed, for a G&T after the bus ride home.