SPQR celebrates the first ever Hero Parade in 1995. Photo: Instagram / SPQR
Oversized Gucci sunglasses, a glass of white, and a plate of salt and pepper squid was always how it began on a summer's day at SPQR.
The Ponsonby Road restaurant was stylish, sleek and a little bit grungy - a bit like its patrons. And unmissable, with its long ivory tables lining the sidewalk of one of Auckland's most iconic streets.
In its three-decade run, Chris Rupe's modern Italian spot had become an institution, playing host to countless events, media meet-ups, and notable patrons, including Mick Jagger and members of Duran Duran.
On 11 July, 2024, it was announced the beloved Auckland institution had been placed in liquidation.
SPQR opened in 1992 and for many Aucklanders it holds a place in their heart - drinking champagne till dawn, partying post Hero parades or treasured family dinner dates.
Stacy Gregg and crew in the 1990s era of SPQR outings and hero parades Photo: Supplied / Stacy Gregg
Former fashion journalist turned children's book author Stacy Gregg remembers SPQR in its raucous 90s era, where parties would end at dawn and a few drinks would turn strangers into best friends.
"The LGBTQ community around SPQR was so strong, so naturally the end of the Hero party was in the morning, when dawn was breaking.
"The whole place filled up with us coming off the party to SPQR for more champagne, we weren't having coffees. The place just got filled with people having this massive rave, and at the same time the YMCA early morning joggers were running past us. It was two worlds colliding, we were just leaning out the windows whooping and hollering at them, and we were wearing a lot less clothing than they were.
"It was the sort of place where you just felt like magical moments happened."
A 90s party outside SPQR. Photo: Instagram / SPQR
Gregg recalls that sweet spot in the night - where you experienced all the fun, but weren't left standing with the bill.
"I remember that sensation of getting to a certain point in the night where everyone had disappeared and you were like, am I the only person left at the table? And somebody coming to you with a bill and saying there's still $500 outstanding.
"There was always that moment of wanting to be there till the very end of the fun, but not till the point where you were the person that was holding the tab... I was on a journalist's salary, so I was more sensible than that. But it was the place where if you were having a lunch that you intended to continue, SPQR was the venue."
Television personality and socialite Sally Ridge was well-known for sitting street-side at SPQR. She's been having family dinners there since her daughter, Jaime, was a teenager.
"The garlic pizza they did there was always my kids' favourite, they did a great steak as well, really good steak, and they used to do a rocket tuna salad which was just amazing. Lots of memories of champagne and food and the best tiramisu in Auckland.
"I've been going there for 20 years, basically since it was open. How old's Jaime? She's 31 now. Since she was 14 or 15, so yeah, 20 odd years. I was driving with my son, Boston, when I heard the news (it was closing). He was like, 'Oh my God mum, dad will be gutted'. I suppose my kids kind of grew up there as well. I'm shocked it's going."
Sally Ridge with her family at SPQR. Photo: Supplied / Sally Ridge
SPQR has seen countless Christmas dos and client parties and, for public relations professional, Jacqui Ansin, it's also the venue for the annual drinks in memory of close friend, New Zealand personality, Charlotte Dawson. Each year, around 22 February, the date that Dawson took her own life in 2014, the former model's mates raise a glass of chardonnay at SPQR - it was Dawson's favourite spot to eat in New Zealand.
"At my age," Ansin recalls, "I've probably gone there for 20-odd, maybe 30 years...
"It's such a beautiful place, I'd always take my clients there and take media there too, because you could just have the space, it always had a vibe and great energy. You just park up with your big sunglasses on, enjoy a few vinos."
PR queen Jacqui Ansin (right) with journalist Wilhelmina Shrimpton at SPQR. Photo: Supplied / Jacqui Ansin
They say the people make the place, and this was certainly true for SPQR. Patrons fondly remember the staff that helped make the Italian restaurant a Ponsonby landmark, including waiter Nathan "Naenae" Andrews and owner Chris Rupe's daughter, Courtney.
"The food was good, the atmosphere was good, and when Naenae worked there he was just delightful, the staff were just amazing. It kind of became like Ponsonby's key restaurant, didn't it?" Ridge says.
Ansin also remembers "all the personalities, all the people who went there, creating all these incredible times."
For Gregg, it was one of SPQR's founders, Johnny Caracciolo, that left a lasting impression.
"Johnny was very much involved in the early days of conceptualising SPQR; I can remember I wrote for Metro as a freelancer back then and I came to him as it was being built.
"I was like, 'Hey I'd love to do a story about this new place for Metro' and he said, 'Ew, no thanks'. I was like, 'Huh?' But that was kind of super cool because he was basically kind of saying, we're not some new restaurant who's gonna go in your 'this-has-just-opened-up' pages in your lame magazine in Auckland.
"We're an institution, and he had that mindset from the start."
Former journalist Stacy Gregg wanted to profile SPQR for Metro Magazine when it first opened up. Photo:
SPQR "stayed exactly the same", Ridge says. It retained an impressive roll call of clientele and a high quality menu, delivered with A+ service for nearly 30 years. Ansin will remember SPQR for its "great whitebait and beautiful Italian food", while Gregg says she will remember it for the atmosphere.
"It was the sort of place where it was dark and gloomy and secluded, and even though you were right there on Ponsonby Road, it felt quite like you could get away with stuff. You were either tucked away inside going, 'Nobody's gonna notice us' or you were outside, and I think once you sat outside, you felt quite impervious to what was happening around you.
"The staff always made you feel like that too; you'd go in there and it wasn't so much as being seen, it was about who you would see. You'd see some strange fellows and you'd be like, 'Ah, I didn't know they were tight'.
"By the end of the evening, all sorts of people were best friends, it was that sort of place."
