Matchbox brings high-end cocktails and innovative tacos to Ponsonby

The meat tastes like itself instead of like the inside of a pot
On Matchbox's approach to grilled thin-sliced tacos rather than traditional braised meat.
Mark

Why does a bar owner choose to stay quiet about what they're doing? Isn't the whole point to get people through the door?

Mimi

Haggerty's thinking is that if you start talking about fermentation and technique, people start thinking about sourdough instead of just tasting the drink. He wants the cocktails to be famous, not the process.

Mark

So he's betting that word of mouth will do the work that marketing usually does.

Mimi

Exactly. And apparently it's working—the place has been slammed since it opened. People are finding it.

Mark

What makes the tacos different? I've had plenty of tacos in Auckland.

Mimi

The meat isn't braised and pulled. It's sliced thin from a larger cut and grilled as a strip. It's a technique from a place called Taco Paris in Guadalajara. The meat tastes like itself instead of like the inside of a pot.

Mark

That's a small change that probably makes a huge difference.

Mimi

It does. Combined with tortillas from Hawke's Bay and a salsa that's genuinely excellent, it's the kind of thing that makes you reconsider what a taco can be.

Mark

And the owner came from Milenta, which people actually care about.

Mimi

His partner did. That's the real signal that this isn't just another bar with food. These are people who know what they're doing.

  • A Ponsonby address carrying the ghost of a celebrity snub has been quietly reborn, with new owners determined to let the food and drink do the talking instead of the drama.
  • Cocktails priced from $25 arrive without fanfare but with serious intent — balanced, smoky, and shaped by an owner whose wine list exists only in his own memory.
  • The taco, so often softened into submission by a braising pot, is here sliced thin and grilled to order, each cut of meat — brisket, chicken thigh, mushroom, fresh catch — tasting unmistakably like itself.
  • Tortillas sourced from Hawke's Bay, a salsa that needs no reinvention, and sides that consistently exceed their category suggest a kitchen with both conviction and restraint.
  • Despite no reservations, no advertising, and no celebrity endorsement, the room has been full since opening — a quiet verdict delivered by people who simply found their way to the door.

At the quieter end of Ponsonby Road, behind a door that rewards those who look for it, a new establishment called Matchbox has taken root where notoriety once lived. In place of the bar that turned away a pop star and her entourage, there is now something more quietly ambitious: a space devoted to the idea that craft — in a glass, on a tortilla — is its own sufficient argument. Matchbox asks nothing of its guests except curiosity, and returns the favour with cocktails and tacos that reframe what both things can be.

Ponsonby Road's most storied doorway has a new occupant, and it carries none of the baggage of its predecessor. Deadshot — the bar that earned international attention in 2024 when it turned away a pop star and her party of nearly thirty — is gone. In its place is Matchbox, co-owned by Kamal Haggerty, a man who laughs at the suggestion that Auckland has real appetite for high-end cocktails and then quietly proves otherwise.

The drinks, starting at $25, are the kind that don't announce themselves. An agave-based cocktail arrived smoky and balanced, a deliberate distance from the mezcal moment everyone has since agreed went too far. The wine list is kept in Haggerty's head — two whites on the night in question — and Kirin is on tap for those who prefer simplicity. The philosophy is consistent: no performance, just quality in the glass.

The food is where Matchbox makes its most considered argument. Co-owner Alejandro Vasquez, formerly of Milenta, has reimagined the taco by abandoning the braising pot entirely. Meat is sliced thin from larger cuts — brisket, pork belly — and grilled to order. Tortillas arrive from Hands Down in Hawke's Bay. A thick, spicy orange salsa anchors every plate, while the proteins themselves — beef, chicken thigh, blue oyster mushroom, catch of the day — each taste entirely distinct. It is a simple idea executed with real discipline.

The supporting dishes hold their own. Guacamole is properly textured, the corn chips salted well enough to stand alone. Chorizo croquettes deliver a near-liquid centre studded with chewy meat. A sweetcorn salad with chipotle mayo is smoky and layered in a way that keeps drawing you back. Tacos run $12 to $14; most sides stay under $20.

On a Tuesday, the room was fuller than a venue with no reservations and no advertising has any right to be. The Colombian kitchen staff, by all accounts, remain untroubled by the pace. Matchbox has found its crowd without asking for one — and unlike the place it replaced, it will let you in regardless of who you are.

Ponsonby Road has a new tenant behind that hard-to-find doorway at the Western Park end of the strip, and it's nothing like what came before. Deadshot, the cocktail bar that occupied this space for years, is gone—along with the infamy it earned when a certain pop star with 24 million Twitter followers got turned away at the door with her 29 friends and decided to tell the internet about it. That was 2024. This is now. The new place is called Matchbox, and it exists to prove that you don't need celebrity drama to draw a crowd. You just need very good cocktails and tacos that will change how you think about tacos.

Comal Haggerty, one of the owners, doesn't want to talk much about what he's doing. When asked if there's real demand for high-end cocktails in this city, he laughed and said no—which is precisely why he doesn't advertise. The drinks, priced from $25 upward, are meant to speak for themselves. An agave-based number with lime and mystery ingredients arrived balanced and smoky, nothing like the mezcal craze of 2023 that everyone eventually agreed was a mistake. The wine list doesn't exist on paper; it lives in Haggerty's head, and on the night in question, he could remember two white options. There's Kirin on tap if you want to keep things simple. The point isn't the showmanship. The point is that what arrives in your glass tastes spectacular.

But the real revelation is the food. Haggerty and his business partner Alejandro Vasquez—who comes from Milenta, one of Auckland's most serious Latin American kitchens—have reimagined the taco in a way that feels almost radical in its simplicity. Instead of braised and pulled meat, they slice it thin from larger cuts like brisket or pork belly and grill it to order. The tortillas come direct from Hands Down in Hawke's Bay. The salsa is spicy, thick, orange, and so intensely flavored that it barely needs to change from taco to taco because the meat itself tastes completely different each time. Beef brisket, chicken thigh, blue oyster mushroom, catch of the day—each one celebrates what it actually is rather than what a cast-iron pot can do to it.

The supporting cast is equally impressive. Guacamole arrives properly seasoned with enough intact onion to give it real character, served alongside salted corn chips that taste good before they even touch the dip. Croquettes filled with chorizo somehow transcend the category of food that usually disappoints; the center is almost liquid, studded with chewy meat. A sweetcorn salad with lime and chipotle mayo is smoky, spicy, sweet, and textured in a way that makes you keep reaching for more.

On a Tuesday night, the place was busier than you'd expect for a venue that doesn't take reservations and doesn't advertise. The owner mentioned that it's been slammed since opening, though apparently nothing rattles his Colombian kitchen staff, who work through the orders with the patience of people who understand that good food can't be rushed. The menu is short. The prices are fair—tacos at $12 to $14, most sides under $20. If you can find the place, you'll love it. And unlike Deadshot, you won't need to be famous to get in.

There's no demand. That's why we don't tell anybody what we're doing.
— Kamal Haggerty, co-owner
If I talk about fermentation, people will start thinking about sourdough. But if they ask, we'll have a chat.
— Kamal Haggerty, on why he avoids discussing cocktail technique
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