Casper
59 Duxton Road
Singapore 089523
📷: @casper.bar__
Tuesday to Saturday, 4pm to 12pm;
Sunday, 7pm to 12pm
Our rating: 5.5/10 🛈
There’s a lot of promise to Casper. A ghost-themed bar, named after perhaps the most famous ghost of all time? With a setup like that, we almost expect a haunted house interior and cocktails that come with dry ice fog.
Alas, the name and some slightly ghoulish lighting are about where it ends with the supernatural links.
That neither-nor, not-quite-but-somewhat vibe seems to permeate throughout the place. We really can’t quite figure out what the place is supposed to be. Is there a theme? Is there not?
The outside looks maybe like a cafe, with the bifold window facing the street that’s betrayed only by an orange glow coming from inside. Then indoors, the walls make us feel like we’re in a cavern (think that new-ish restaurant in Mandai, just a lot smaller). Above, the cellophane-wrapped spotlights shaped like CCTVs give off a choppy nightclub vibe.
Then there’s one wall in particular that’s full of power sockets, but only one works. We’re told it’s supposed to be a metaphor for putting your devices away; in practice, it just leaves us miffed when our portable charger runs out of power. Perhaps the real spook factor lies in the threat of a night without phones.
We guess the upshot of Casper’s interiors is that the place doesn’t take itself too seriously. Yet, its website seems to point to it being a hip art collective sort of location. We’re no less confused than before, but it doesn’t really matter; we’re just here for cocktails and a good time.
So we quickly move along to the drinks. The menu is presented quite like a row of Jo Malone scents: What’s listed on the label is supposedly what you get, with maybe a little extra pop here and there. There are 18 signatures in total; all have mononyms based on the flavour they represent.
Tangy, fizzy and sweet, Apples (S$22) is quite like if an appletini and a whisky highball got frisky. We can barely detect any whisky flavour in there, but it’s present – once you dig through the sugar, apple and mango, that is.
Perhaps good to note, if you’re looking to stay glam in front of a date: This is served in a tallish glass, and Casper uses small ice cubes, so at some point towards the second half of the drink you’re bound to get chunks of hail raining down on you.
For savoury lovers, Tomato (S$25) is a tequila-tomato concoction that removes just about every sweet note in favour of salt and umami.
The not-so-secret ingredient? Tequila washed in Haidilao’s tomato soup base. Once it’s in our heads, we really can’t un-taste it.
Still, the mix is surprisingly successful, even if the drink leans overly saline. Don’t hold out for any ketchup vibes here, except a whiff of barbecue from the poblano liqueur.
As any sensible person should, it’s a good idea to always read the fine print below each item on the menu at any place. With most of the one-word cocktails at Casper, though, flavour singularity appears to be key.
Raspberry (S$24) is exactly emblematic of this. The listing for this spin on a French 75 promises a nondescript “tea” alongside the namesake fruit, but it simply tastes like a berry-flavoured sports drink with candy notes.
Don’t fear: Melon (S$22) has no radioactive green traces of Midori. It does, however, have nearly the same intense sweetness. Again, everything is so sugar-forward that it’s hard to tease out much beyond the melon and a generic fruity sweetness.
Leaving it to sit for a while does help a little as the ice melts, though by that point almost all traces of fizz have died. Besides, we’re done trying to figure out how best to sip a cocktail; it really should come already enjoyable.
From its name, you’d assume Mushroom (S$26) was a savoury, broth-like drink. Heck, it has beef in the menu description! Instead, it’s a cloyingly sweet whisky sour riff, with the barest of umami notes.
Calamansi (S$26), meanwhile, is made custardy by a blender-blitzing with egg. The surprisingly refreshing eggnog-style drink is kept light with citrus and Gayuma, a liqueur from the Philippines whose name translates to “love potion”.
Casper’s tough to read, a bit like the words on a menu through the translucent body of a friendly ghost. The bar lands somewhere in between many things, with its spectral branding, grungy art space look and overall casual watering hole vibe.
We’d like to put our finger on exactly what we can label it as, though single words, ironically, come up short.
Speaking of which, there’s no doubt a fair bit of preparation and thought behind the things Casper has to offer, but we can’t help feeling that it’s a bit of a waste, since the mixes invariably tend to read one-note, save for a few shining stars.
That singularity and simplicity might be intentional, but it certainly begs the question: What’s so special about the place?
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