The Friend In Hand

Had a drink here with a group of friends on a late Saturday afternoon and enjoyed this strange pub. I love that they have a pet cockatoo and the hermit crabs. It’s a very casual place with friendly locals. I’d come back again.

I really like this establishment! I had a great time here last night. The comedy night, even though at times painfully awkward, was hilarious and super fun. This needs to be on someone’s date night list!
A Friend In Hand also has a lot of other activities on during the week, which I think sets it a part from other pubs.

This place is truly one of a kind. They have darts, slot machines, holla hoop contests, six pack contests, salty chocolate ball eating contests and of course their famous crab races. The best part about this place is all of the contests other than the crab races are free and have awesome prizes… liquor! The crab races cost two dollars per crab.
I noticed most of the customers were from all over the world, and this helped create a great multicultural vibe. Lots of great stories to hear throughout the night.
One downside to this place was that the staff sprayed us with water repeatedly throughout the night. I guess this is a normal practice at this establishment.

C’est bon, c’est pas trop cher, bien placé. Que demander de plus? Y aller avec des amis ou des collègues, à l’heure du déjeuner; y déguster une bonne bière.

I honestly feel bad about giving this a 3 star review, but on account of my most recent dinner there, it has to be done.
Don’t get me wrong. I LIKE the Friend in Hand. It’s a quirky, lovely pub a few blocks away from the busy-​ness of Glebe Point Road. It has, hands down, the best décor of ANY pub I’d been to. And people are friendly, really friendly.
I first came here for crab racing, which I think is one of the awesomest things Sydney has to offer. Little hermit crabs with painted shells are set free in the middle of a large round table. First crabs to make it to the edges has their owners competing to win gold (won’t tell you about the challenges, it’s all part of the fun.) There are some little games throughout the night to keep everything fun and happy. I LOVE taking visitors here, and they always have a great time.
So why 3 stars? As I mentioned, the food. :(They used to have a pretty decent restaurant, but sometime in the past year, I think they changed resto owners or something. The food is a bit more expensive and not as good. Last time I went here, I had the steak and it was seriously the WORST steak ever. The steak had this really strong, really bad, really chemically, charcoal taste on it. I LOVE meat, and I LOVE steak, and it was the first time I couldn’t finish the steak, it was that bad. I even tried scraping off the grill marks but my attempts were futile. The entire thing tasted really bad. Another friend of mine had the steak, and she commented the same thing.
But other than the food, this place is really good, so I hate giving it 3 stars. All the employees I’ve met there are really friendly and helpful, and I love crab racing nights. It’s just… stay away from the steak.

Totally forgot about this pub! Glebe back streets are a bit of a time warp. The Friend in Hand hasn’t changed in years, and that’s a great, great thing. It’s Sydney’s form of a dive bar, I guess. Loads of flotsam and jetsam (including an old Police sign) fill the walls and ceiling of the bar. Locals stare at you when you walk in (and are particularly keen to stare at the ladies…) but no one means you any harm. Solid old wooden furniture rings the bar. You know those big old bar stools with a u-​shape back? Really heavy stuff. The pub also has a TAB, so there’s the not-​so-​nice brightly lit betting area, but the rest of the bar reminded me of a US dive bar, except in other ways it’s very very Aussie. Friendly staff, cheap grog. It’s hard to find the ladies toilets, but persevere, they’ll show up eventually, around one little corner or another.

You know those days when you’re too lazy to get out of your comfy tracksuit bottoms with «JERSEY GIRL» emblazoned across your rear, but still fancy a schooner?
Look no further than the character-​oozing, rough-​as-​guts Friend in Hand.
Ever been to a TGI Friday’s or Cracker Barrel in the States where they have mismatched, fake-​ass cheesy vintage crap everywhere? Well Friend In Hand is kinda like that, except completely authentic and unapologetically in-​your-​face with the chintz. This place looks like the Village People had an orgy with the BeeGees and Mick Dundee. And if the Aussie Christmas Santa or the scuba diving mannequin aren’t enough to hold your attention, they have activities every night of the week, apparently. Not just activities; just your normal pub stuff. Like poetry reading. And still life painting (adults only!). And CRAB races. You know, the usual. Honestly, I walked in feeling a bit self-​conscious of my lazy attire and felt instantly at home; in fact, I felt like I belonged.
After taking in the over-​the-​top décor and comfy seats, BF and I went over to the restaurant to place an order. Just an FYI, the $ 10 steak is only for lunch now. BF’s attempts to order the lasagne went something like this:
BF: Lasagne please
Waitress: Na.
BF: Na?
Waitress: Got no bechamel. Needs bechamel, in my opinion.
Well then! She did have a point.
After ordering a steak sandwich ($ 11) to share with a schooner of Fat Yak ($ 6.70), we sat down at a table and started chatting when we heard a mighty SQQQQUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAKKKK!
Thinking it was a bird who had just flown in and was causing trouble, we started talking again only to be interrupted by another SSSSQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQUUUUUUUAAAAAKKK!!! and a barmaid saying in soothing tones, «What’s wrong, George?» I got up to have a look and perched on the bar was a massive white cockatoo with what only can be described as a scowl on its face. George, I’ve come to know, is the unofficial mascot of the Friend in Hand. I was tempted to try and give him a cuddle, but he looked like he wanted to peck my eyes out.
Our steak sandwich and chips was a big portion, and fairly standard quality, but priced amazingly well.
So excited to go back for the crab races. I can already taste the chocolate salty donuts!!! Mmmmm… donuts…

Maybe a little scary to step into your first time around, but the Friend in Hand is a great local pub. It’s always filled with regulars downstairs and puts on a great range of entertainment.
Monday nights is Life Drawing. $ 10 cover (to pay the model) and BYO drawing supplies. Get in early for a good spot, and don’t expect it to be a chatty casual affair. This is for serious arty types only. There will be silence during the poses. There will be other artists wandering around in breaks judging your work. There will be glares until you’ve proved yourself worthy. I love it!!!

So I headed down here on a Wednesday night for the Friend In Hands’ very special night time activity… Crab Racing! It’s a simple concept — get a bowl of hermit crabs with numbers stuck on their shells, choose a name (filthier the better — I’ll spare you my lucky crustaceans pseudonyms), own up to your crabs name, get sprayed with water, bowl of crabs gets turned over in the middle of a round table, crabs scuttle towards outer ring of table, then they scuttle sideways and eventually they reach the outside and the race is over. See, simple! Odd? Yes, very! But all good fun. Some slightly bizarre games for those that finish in the top ⁵⁄₆ (eat a chocolate/​salt covered donut, eat a cracker then try and whistle) in order to win a T-​shirt. As I said, a little odd, but it makes for an interesting night out, and if you haven’t been to the FiH yet, you should really check it out, if not for the walls adorned with all sorts of bric n brac, then for the big cockatoo sitting on the bar.
They also have a decent bistro with the always inviting $ 10 steak on offer. This is a character-​filled pub that is for locals and visitors alike, so don’t be put off by the seasoned drinkers holding up the bar, they won’t bite! Probably.

«There’s a pub back here?» was my first thought as I tried to navigate to the Friend In Hand. After a few moments of attempting to find the pub, I began to realise I was not where I was supposed to be and was making plans to live a Badlands style subsistence life. Finally, I emerged through the suburban streets to find the Friend In Hand. Thank goodness.
I was here for a birthday party on the upper floor, so I can’t vouch for the quality of the food or the live entertainment, but this pub is a cool low key alternative to hold an event at. The bar staff are all friendly and the upper floor has a slightly raised section for someone to stand and speak, or perhaps to dance on, or even just to seat some people at to give a weird sense of social disorder.
The area isn’t quite private — you reach it up a set of stairs and it comes between a further section out the back with pool tables and the upper bar, so if you need it for private purposes (a wake, a world domination planning meeting, a secret kung fu society dinner) then you may have to pay extra for the whole floor or accept that this isn’t the choice. But it works well for a 21^st.

It’s Thursday night and I’ve booked a spot at the Mic In Hand, a weekly comedy night that is run from within the Friend In Hand, an old fashioned pub with scores of memorabilia adorning the walls.
The restaurant attached to the hotel assures the patrons are well fed and the spaghetti bolognese here is a classic and clearly my recommendation should you attend. The front of the bar seats all the regulars and bar flies and the upstairs area, with its own bar, showcases the comedy each Thursday night.
This is the first stand up show that my parents have attended, so I get some food downstairs before the gig. I’m, as per usual, extremely nervous and I have trouble eating my dinner. I get through about five mouthfuls before I give up and get a plastic container to eat it later.
The last time my parents came to see me do something for the first time, (Rugby) I broke my arm. Hopefully this would involve less pain.
I down the waters and eagerly await the stage. I’ve asked to be on early as I have rehearsals later and opening night is in only two weeks time. The room upstairs has filled up and it feels like a warm room as the MC for the evening Dain Hedgpeth performs his routine. A heckler claims he can tell better jokes and he is shortly humiliated before further heckling and taking the stage gets him ejected from the room.
I go on second and stick around for as long as I can to see the following sets, but know that I have to leave very soon.
It’s a great room for comics as the audience is full and very willing to laugh, the MC bears the brunt from the hecklers as is tradition and the open mikers get a chance to clock some stage time and see what works and what plummets to a slow and painful, silent death on stage.

This pub has more character in its doorway than most pubs do in their entire establishment.
From man-​sized scuba divers and firemen to a fully operational miniature train that chugs its way around its ceiling track, ancient poker machines and telephone boxes, framed photos and street signs and a police station light box, this pub has been serving beer since the 1800’s and it looks as though it’s saved a little bit of every year along the way. Friend in Hand also comes with its own resident squawking cockatoo that, whilst it does have it’s own cage, spends most of its time perched atop someone’s arm or stepping its was across the beer taps.
It’s amazing the way that a red velvet curtain can transform a space. Especially if there’s a mic stand in front of it. The Friend In Hand runs a weekly open-​mic comedy night in their upstairs bar, «Mic In Hand», and unlike many open-​mic comedy nights, it’s not at all awkward. In fact, it’s actually funny. Whilst there’s always the possibility for cringing in these situations, more often than not «Mic in Hand» talent make it through their five minute skits unscathed, finishing to the raucous laughter of their appreciative crowd. Although if you start making racist or any kind of prejudiced jokes, be warned — you will be heckled and the crowd will more than happily put you in your place. There’s a reason why Friend In Hand was shortlisted for TimeOut’s Best Live Entertainment Pub in Sydney. This place fills out, and with good reason — for $ 10 you’re never too sure what you’re getting, but it often ends up being something pretty good.
Their restaurant, A Fork In Hand, is probably the least impressive element of Friend In Hand and even so it’s not too bad ($ 10 steak, $ 16 schnitty). I wouldn’t venture here just for the food, but it’s A.O.K for a pre-​comedy feed.
This would be my ideal local. With no pretense whatsoever, the only negative I can see in this hotel is that you should be prepared for your stories to go unheard amidst the sea of distractions provided by The Friend In Hand’s paraphernalia. Next time you don’t have enough for a drink, try trading your left boot/Grandad’s portrait/​snorkel/​salt and pepper shakers. I have a feeling that it may just work.

HOLY HELL this place is mad! I had heard about the Friend in Hand’s famous sand crab races on Wednesday nights, so I suggested it as a fun blind date spot. We arrived there early enough to get a pre-​insanity drink. I was instantly taken by the bric-​à-​brac decorations, including wildly dressed manikins and various other odds and ends tacked to the walls.
So the festivities began and it seemed all in good fun. Both my date and I tossed our gold coins forward and named our crabs. As we waited in anticipation, the lights dimmed, the «Rocky» theme song came on and low and behold, a man dressed in a full head-​to-​toe crab costume emerged running through the crowd. Much to my dismay, the bartenders took this as cue to SOAK everyone in the pub with their water guns. Horrendous!
The races started and when the poor little crabs were dumped on the round bar table everyone started to cheer passionately. My date’s crab actually won so that automatically catapulted him into round two: chocolate salty balls. In this round, the poor guy had to eat chocolate-​covered, salted doughnuts without the help of his hands and lick the plate clean. As a good attentive date, I stood there cheering him on. When he finished FIRST, the announcer yelled «He must have a clean face, get your girlfriend to help you with your face!» So enter: our first kiss.
In all, it was pretty hilarious and I would consider going back with mates, but it really couldn’t have been a more embarrassing and inappropriate spot for a first date… unless of course you NEVER care to see that person again.

Allein für die Originalität des Ladens (und des Wirts) gibts schon 5* von mir! Aber es gibt mehr als nur gutes Bier in einem urigen Laden.
Der Laden ist voll gestopft mit jeder menge Gerümpel, man hat das Gefühl man sei auf einem Flohmarkt.
Hier ist jeden Tag was los, was nicht unbedingt jedermanns Sache ist.
Mein Tipp: Schaut mal auf einem Mittwoch zum Crabracing vorbei und lasst Euch überrasschen.