One bartender’s last gig behind the stick? Leading the Shaman opening team

Welcome to Sidecar No Sugar, a weekly Boothby newsletter about Brisbane bars and the people, work and creativity that grounds it. (You can sign up to get it in your inbox each week, right here.) This week, I chatted to Tim Pope about his almost decade-long career as a bartender, bar owner and consultant.

If you have info the Brisbane bar community should know, please email me contact@beccawang.com.au or send me a message via Instagram (@supper.partying).

Tim Pope has ticked most orthodox boxes of the modern bartender: win cocktail competitions, help open bars, open own bar, judge competitions, give masterclasses on self-founded cocktail concept, move cities to manage new bars. Over the last nine years, he’s poured thousands of cocktails, served every type of guest there is and trained staff in all types of roles – and now he’s decided it’s almost time to hang up his leather apron. Instead of jumping straight into consulting (“Making another Amaretto Sour riff for someone else would kill me creatively,” he says), he has decided to run a final lap as the general manager of newly-opened Shaman, a subterranean rum and tequila bar in Brisbane CBD. At Shaman, it’s all about classic cocktails – not unrecognisable riffs but the nuanced technique involved – something Tim has always kept at the forefront of his practice. “Every time I make a drink I want to make the best version of it to date.” 

BECCA WANG: Where did your bartending career start?

TIM POPE: I entered hospitality quite late. I was probably about 24 or 25 when I actually started. I was born in Australia, but my parents are both from the UK, so I spent most of my life back there. When I came over, I just needed a job, as everyone does, and you fall into hospitality. I started out in Melbourne on Chapel Street near St Kilda. A lot of backpackers end up there. I worked at a place called Holy Grail, which was my first introduction into Australian hospitality. 

Then [my wife and I] found out we were having a daughter and I had to decide whether or not this was a career path I wanted to take seriously. So I doubled down and got my first job in a proper cocktail bar, New Gold Mountain. Back then, it was a bit of a hospitality powerhouse. It was small, just two floors, seating about 40 or 50 people, but we’d cram in crazy numbers when the hospitality crowd came through. That’s where I really cut my teeth in the cocktail world and started entering competitions.

My first competition was The Perfect Blend from Beam Suntory, which was the firing catalyst for my career. I got through to the Victorian state finals and was very lucky to win that. Then I went off to Byron Bay and was fortunate to take out the national title as well. That was the turning point. I already had a passion for cocktails and the hospitality industry, which is why I stuck with it even with a child on the way.

The prize was an all-expenses-paid trip to New Orleans for Tales of the Cocktail. I remember thinking, “Holy hell, this is actually a thing.” I couldn’t think of another job where that would be a prize. From there, I started entering more competitions – Woodford Reserve next. I was the Victorian state winner and national runner-up, which was probably for the best since my wife would’ve killed me if I’d gone away again with a baby under a year old.

I eventually stepped away from New Gold Mountain because of the hours – we used to do 5pm till 5am, and I couldn’t keep that up. I briefly went up to Geelong to help set up another bar for the Camorra Group. That was my first experience opening something from scratch. Then I came back to the city and helped set up a few more places, where I started working with Tony Huang.

We ended up working together for about six years, moving from place to place with a similar style. Eventually, we decided we wanted to open our own spot, as every bartender does. We saved up for a few years and opened Par. It was the embodiment of the three passions of the three owners – Tony, myself and my wife [Aimee Pope]. Aimee came from a strong sommelier background and Tony and I from classic cocktails. 

BECCA: What did you learn in those early years?

TIM: Out of all the disciplines, my specialty was fundamentals – flavour balancing. I was taught that it’s more impressive to make twenty daiquiris in a row that all taste the same and have the same wash line than to make one really good drink. 

I was lucky to be in that capture point for hospitality where we were still using sugar cubes but also transitioning into syrups. It was all about the basics: can you make a good Martini, a good Old Fashioned? Those are the key pillars of bartending. If you don’t know your basics, you shouldn’t be doing anything else. I’d much rather someone take their time to make a perfect Old Fashioned that’s simple but spectacular than give me something bubbling with liquid nitrogen that’s off balance. I’m generally laid back, but when it comes to flavour and balance, that’s where I get picky and opinionated.

Flavour balance is something I feel is missing in a lot of bartending now. With Shaman, part of what Pete [Hollands] and I wanted to create was proper training programs. Everyone who works for us starts with learning to balance drinks. Once they can do that, they can move on to other things.

BECCA: What do you think newer bartenders should learn before stepping into higher positions?

TIM: After COVID, the industry lost a lot of experienced staff and there was a scramble to fill the gaps. A lot of people got elevated faster than they should have. There are a lot of people in positions of power who haven’t necessarily developed the skills first.

I always say that everywhere I work, I’m the most overqualified dishy. If things hit the fan, I’m usually in the dish pit while the staff do what I’ve hired them to do – make the drinks. I’m a firm believer there’s no such thing as someone saying, “I don’t go on the floor,” or “I don’t do dishes.” If that’s the case, you’re not a bartender. That’s not part of it.

I also firmly believe you shouldn’t ask people to do things you can’t do yourself. I wouldn’t tell someone to make something if I couldn’t follow through. If I’m confident I can produce something to a certain standard, I’ll show them. But I’d never tell someone how to do a blazer, because I suck at blazers. I also suck at throwing drinks – I’m terrible at it, and I know I am. I’ll give advice on techniques that could help, but I wouldn’t offer a strong opinion on something I can’t personally do.

BECCA: At this point in your career, how do you navigate burnout from a service and social perspective?

TIM: If you do anything long enough, it happens, right? You can’t avoid it. The difference, I suppose, is the way I’ve always looked at it. Yeah, it’s an element of it, but it’s also what I signed up for. I’ve been doing this job for so long that I know there are only about five different types of guests. I can generally guess them.

I think what hits hospitality people harder over the seasons isn’t the work itself but the lifestyle. That’s the thing that takes it out of us. Maybe it’s because I’ve got a kid but the bit we lose is our connection to the hospitality partying side – the thing that drew us in at first, that sense of everyone being around. If you’re not out all the time, tasting, being seen, people just forget you. That seems to be the most important thing for everyone right now – just being everywhere. For the senior ones, it gets hard because we don’t want to do that anymore. We don’t want to go out all the time. And when we do, we feel a little disconnected from everyone.

My wife always says I need to stop going for passion projects but I can’t help it. Technically with my skill set, I could be earning six figures writing menus and consulting. But I know that would just make me more jaded. Making another Amaretto Sour riff for someone else would kill me creatively. I’m not saying don’t take those jobs but I think the real balance is keeping that creative spark alive – the thing that got us interested in the first place.

Hand on heart, I’ve probably got another two years in the trenches and then I’m done. Not because I don’t love it, but because physically I won’t be able to keep doing it. That’s when the pivotal moment will come – what do I turn to?

I was lucky enough to work with the Anyday Group for a bit up here, and that’s where I saw the kind of role I’d want next – Creative Director. What I get joy from now is teaching, training and playing with flavour profiles. It’s good knowing I have a goal for when I’m no longer behind the stick. That’s something older bartenders struggle with – it’s hard to see life outside the bar. If you don’t know where you’re going next, you start wondering, “What have I been doing for the last nine years? Why have I been doing this if there’s nowhere to go from it?”

BECCA: What is it that you want to achieve at Shaman?

TIM: It’s not an official mission statement but Shaman [is] 100 percent cocktail-dedicated. When we were bouncing ideas around, I said honestly I just miss fresh juice. That sounds really weird but I just miss people making drinks with fresh juice instead of this acid-adjusted-balanced stuff. I got the backbar I wanted for a purely classics bar and from this I want to turn it into a training hub where all the staff that work for me and for the group will be taught and trained how I was taught. Eventually, I would like to extend it to [people outside the group]. 

Every time I came up from Melbourne I was very impressed with Brisbane’s hospitality. A lot of what we touched on before is very Melbourne syndrome – everybody’s a little bit too up themselves, considering what we actually do. When Tony and I would come up here and do masterclasses the turn out here would be absolutely insane and there’d be so many young people really listening and asking questions and I was very impressed. It’s proven to be a receptive place and that’s why I want to share my knowledge here.