“Fine dining, high-end cocktails and gangster rap – the best of us and everything we love in the one place,” Kaylah Truth says, beaming and nodding towards a vinyl collection on the wall that ranges from Wu-Tang Clan to Fleetwood Mac to Baker Boy.
We’re sitting in Interlude, the upmarket cocktail bar and restaurant Truth opened on the Windsor end of Melbourne’s ritzy Chapel Street in April, in partnership with her best friend, Apryl Day.
But while the marble counter and flash interiors may fit right in with the neighbourhood, Interlude is doing things differently. “Blackfulla dishes spun in a fine dining way,” says Day with a laugh.
“As far as we know, there hasn’t been a female Aboriginal-owned cocktail bar on Chapel Street,” says Day, a proud Yorta Yorta, Wemba Wemba and Barapa Barapa woman.
Prior to becoming a business owner, Day was a research assistant in youth and mental health services at the University of Melbourne; meanwhile Truth is a proud Merooni woman of the Gurang nation and multidisciplinary artist.
For the pair, it’s their first time running a hospitality venue. But for a luxurious looking Chapel Street venue it’s grounded in community, and patrons are treated with a deep sense of care and respect.
“On the opening night, there were some Cummera [Cummeragunja Mission] boys dressed to the nines,” Day says with a chuckle.
“They had their dress shoes on, which means a lot, just to come in here.
“And I said, ‘all right now, you’re getting scallops and oysters’. And one of the young lads was like, ‘nah, I’m from Cummeragunja – I’m from the Mish [mission], I don’t eat that’.”
After some careful negotiation, the young fellas indulged.
“We treated them like absolute rockstars, but boy, if they were to go a few doors down they wouldn’t even be let in,’’ Day says.
But Interlude is more than a place for shellfish and spritz. It is also a story of building from the depths of grief and despair, of courageous imagination and vivid memory.
“We’ve been raised by strong Aboriginal women, who are the backbone of our communities – who raise families whilst also doing the work on the frontline. We want to honour that,” Day says.
Truth adds: “Black women have been feeding, taking care of and providing a safe and immersive space for their communities since for ever.”
Until now, it’s been a free-flowing, weightless conversation filled with lots of loud laughter. But the tone shifts when they reflect on the influential Black women in their lives.
Apryl is the daughter of Aunty Tanya Day – a proud Yorta Yorta woman who died a preventable death in custody in 2017.
Since the tragic and public loss of her mother, she has led a successful campaign that ended the decriminalisation of public drunkenness in Victoria.
In the wake of her mother’s death, Day, alongside other affected families, co-founded the Dhadjowa Foundation – an independent non-profit that provides strategic, coordinated and culturally appropriate support for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander families whose loved ones have died in custody. Through the foundation, she has fought fearlessly for police accountability and justice.
“When I thought about the bar, I knew that it was something that is directly linked to Mum,” she says. “Although it’s away from the advocacy, it’s also a way to pay homage to her.
“It’s really refreshing for me to have a space where I can draw on my creative skills. There’s a lot of people that come in because they’re aware of Mum’s story, and everything about this place reminds me of her, but the pain of her loss doesn’t override the joy of what we’re creating.”
“So it’s nice to hold space for Mum,” she says, her smile lifting. “And to remember and honour her in a way that isn’t super heavy.”
The nature of Day’s loss, and the ongoing trauma associated with it, drives the pair to cultivate a nurturing environment and experience for their patrons.
The pair have very explicit aims for their clientele, and the experience they’re seeking to deliver. That begins with who they hire.
Day says: “We want a venue that everyone can enjoy, but especially mob and other people of colour. We want this to be a really flash and inclusive space where they can feel like they belong.”
“You don’t have to be one thing or another. You don’t have to subscribe to any story. You can say goodbye to the box that you’ve been placed in and just come in and be whoever you want to be.”
Because Day and Truth are culturally grounded and clear-sighted of their target audience, they are able to provide a high detail of service that begins before the patron steps through the doors.
Truth says: “We’re really conscious of cultural protocols, so when you’re booking online, there’s an option for mob to input their cultural dietary requirements. The last thing we want to be doing is cooking someone’s totem near their food or using plants that are a part of their kinship systems.”
While any restaurant and kitchen can procure and cook native foods, it’s this attention to detail and cultural integrity that separates Interlude’s Kakadu plum martini from the finger lime garnishes common in city cocktail bars.
Day says: “All our suppliers are Aboriginal-owned businesses. We know that when we’re procuring native ingredients from someone who’s harvesting on their own Country, that it’s being done in a careful and respectful way.”
Like most new ventures, the road from idea to inception has been riddled with speedbumps. Neither Day or Truth had experience with creating business plans or cashflow analysis, for example. But Interlude is made for their community – and with this knowledge, the learning process has been more enjoyable rather than confronting.
The sentimentality of the venture means the pair is committed to maximising Interlude’s potential, and creating a source of intergenerational wealth that can sustain their families and communities.
“As Blackfullas, it’s really hard to overcome that impostor syndrome. That’s something that I’ve had to work on outside the bar,” Day says. “We don’t have families that have backgrounds in running fine-dining restaurants and bars. This is all entirely new.
“But we absolutely deserve to be here.”
