‘Spud’ Murphy - The man behind the bar

He was one of Queenstown's most loved hospitality characters, everybody’s mate, during his 30 years owning and running the then Chico’s Restaurant and Nightclub – a popular, late night Queenstown venue.

‘Spud’ (Grant) Murphy didn’t do the cooking, but as bar manager and frontman he always had the recipe just right. He’s still not sharing that ‘recipe’, especially for his infamous Brain Eraser cocktail, which got him…and his customers… into a little strife at times. “Yeah, that was me – 100%. I never told anyone the recipe.”

Heavily involved in the Wakatipu Rugby Club as player and coach for 40-plus years, Spud was made a Life Member about 2014 – Chicos becoming a popular after-match function venue. He’s served on the committee and was Wanderers player-coach for over 20 years.

Spud learned young that mixing work and business came at a cost after taking over Chico’s at just 21 in 1987 with Roaring Megs’ American chef Domenic Mondillo.

A young farmer managing his dad Gordon’s 250ha Arrow Junction deer farm while Gordon renovated his New Orleans building in Arrowtown, Spud says he quickly got over having a few drinks every night after work. “My business philosophy at 21 was employ my mates and get on the booze. After two years I thought, ‘No!’ and enjoyed my days free doing sport,” he says. “When my two daughters were small, I worked most of the night and then had the day with them, snowboarding, teaching them to ski, ice skating and water-skiing.” The girls went on to top level ski racing, Cameron reaching the top five in the northwest USA for her age group. Dad raced in Masters Snowboarding.

Spud’s never been afraid of hard work, heading home to run the family farm at 18, after working as a farmhand in Tuatapere when he left Southland Boys’ High, where he boarded.

Born in Invercargill, Spud’s mum was from Fiji, so fun holidays were spent with his grandparents there growing up. “I’d be the only white boy playing with the boys on the beach. Time didn’t matter there. It was far less regimented. If you were hungry you went into the bush and picked an orange or banana.”

Back home Gordon was over the wet conditions on one of their two Southland farms, so they toured the South Island looking for drier pastures. “We got to Blenheim and there was a drought then we came down the Coast and he looked out over the Crown Range and said, “This is it. We’re coming here.” Spud was 11.

Later running the farm Spud, also a qualified shearer, joined Young Farmers and the Rugby Club, playing for the Juniors then Premiers, which he’s captained, also representing Otago Country for five years – Central Otago first.

During those early years he completed a Diploma of Agriculture via correspondence. He also worked locally in live deer and goat recovery, leaping from hovering helicopters and copping a nasty 18-stitch gash to his face once when he missed the prize.

Spud then took a part-time job washing dishes at Roaring Meg’s where he met Domenic.

He recalls many run-ins with the various councils of the day as he navigated controversial changes to liquor licensing hours – from 1.30am closing to 24-hour trading then 3am closing. “We applied for Queenstown’s first alfresco dining tables. That was a big deal. You’d think we’d grown horns,” he grins.

Hauled over the coals for selling his very potent Brain Eraser drinks, Spud says he was “dragged into the council” where the regulatory committee told him he couldn’t sell them. “Margaret McHugh was chairing the meeting and I said, ‘I can legally sell these and your deputy mayor, Margaret McHugh, was in our bar last week drinking one!’ You should’ve seen her face,” he chuckles. “Margaret was great. I then presented her with one of our Brain Eraser T-shirts at the meeting.” They sold 300 Brain Erasers a night, T-shirts with them, which said, ‘I got my brain erased at Chico’s, Queenstown, NZ’ and unfortunately the trend caught on around the universities. Somehow likeable lad Spud seemed to win the authorities over and the fad died down.

He’s broken up his fair share of brawls and reckons that special Spud diplomacy goes a long way in diffusing anger in fiery, alcohol-fuelled situations. “You learn that in hospo. Always move them quietly to the door and talk there so as not to embarrass them.

“I remember Paul Kiely and I had to literally dive over the bar regularly to break up 10 to 15-person brawls, especially when tradies were here building the Novotel (Lakefront Hotel).”

Noise compliance issues disappeared after they installed 510 speakers in the ceiling.

Domenic had sold out after four years and by 1999, in the middle of the notorious record, 100-year floods, Spud opened Old Man Rock Café underneath Chico’s in the historic Mall frontage building. “On opening day the water was lapping at our door. People were coming to see the flooding, kicking us straight into gear.”

When Spud’s eldest daughter Jordan turned 18 and began dancing on Chico’s reinforced tables with everyone else it was time to sell up. “That was a red flag that maybe this is enough,” he grins.

Since selling up about 10 years ago, he’s retrained as a builder and, now a grandad, keeps just as busy running the family catering business – Two Wild Sisters, born out of their former Frankton café.

Spud can still turn out those long hours though. “We’ve just finished catering at the Global Games – three marathon days straight.”