Ravenspur owner, Taran Howard, doesn’t have a traditional hospitality background – and he’s the first to tell you that’s exactly why the bar works. He explains how he built the bar on instinct rather than instruction, and why service still matters.
Before opening Ravenspur in Sydney’s inner west suburb, Enmore, Taran Howard owned a crystal and tarot shop during lockdown with a sizeable online following.Prior to that, he worked as a carpenter and electrician, raised around job sites and problem-solving rather than bar manuals and beverage trends. When he spotted the Enmore Road site – a former laundromat in rough shape – he saw potential where others saw a mess.
“Water damaged abandoned equipment – it looked like no one had lived here for years. But I saw its solid bones,” Howard says.He took on the build almost entirely himself, spending close to six months ripping out ceilings, stripping floors, and rebuilding. There was no formal plan or final render, just a loose mood board and vision that evolved as work progressed.
“The one thing I knew was that I wanted was a cathedral back bar,” he says. “In a small bar, that’s what everyone looks at. That’s the heart.”
When the ceiling came down and original timber beams were revealed, the direction locked in. Southern Gothic. Dark western. Warm, not cold. A space that feels intimate rather than intimidating.
“I don’t like watching my cocktail poured out of a bottle. I want to see it made. And more importantly, I want the conversation that happens while it’s being made.”
Despite having little formal hospitality experience, Howard was clear on one thing: Ravenspur would be service-first.
“You can have the best cocktail in the world, but if the service is shit, no one’s coming back,” he says. “That’s always stuck with me.”
That philosophy extends behind the bar. While many venues rely on pre-batched cocktails for speed and consistency, Howard made the call to build every drink to order.
“I don’t like watching my cocktail poured out of a bottle,” he says plainly. “I want to see it made. And more importantly, I want the conversation that happens while it’s being made.”
The drinks lean heavily into bourbon and rye – Howard openly admits he built the bar he wanted to drink at – but Ravenspur has quickly become known for more than just whisky. Martinis and negronis now sit alongside old fashioneds as crowd favourites, while the bar’s signature cocktail, The Rev, has become a gateway drink for guests less familiar with darker spirits. (See The Rev’s recipe on page 6.)
“It’s a good entry point,” Howard says. “Dry whisky, cacao, banana – it eases people in.”Two months in, Howard says the most surreal moment came when he finally sat on the guest side of the bar for the first time.
“I hadn’t stopped. I was painting outside barrels on opening day,” he says. “A month later, I sat down, had a drink, looked around, and thought – yeah, okay. You built this.”
Ravenspur isn’t positioned as a destination bar chasing hype. It’s a neighbourhood space built on care, craftsmanship and conversation – a reflection of its owner.
“I didn’t want a dive bar, and I didn’t want something stiff,” Howard says. “I wanted somewhere in between. Somewhere people feel comfortable but looked after.”
In a hospitality landscape obsessed with trends and templated concepts, Ravenspur feels refreshingly personal. Not because it’s perfect – but because it’s honest.