Has the minibar finally found its mojo?

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“The idea was to offer both detox and retox,” says Gabriella Khalil, the creative director of Palm Heights hotel in Grand Cayman, where all 51 suites are furnished with not one but two minibars. Each fridge offers treats to satiate all kinds of cravings: the “naughty” one includes bars of Paleo dark chocolate, rum cake and cans of orange wine, while the “healthy” selection offers energy balls made from cactus plant, bags of medjool dates, non-alcoholic Ghia cocktails and sachets of nut butter. The selection is extensive and most of it is organic: classic Coca-Cola, crisps and KitKats this is not.

For decades, the minibar has been an afterthought in even the most luxurious hotels. Travellers have long-endured an underwhelming, expensive and generally unhealthy snack selection — mostly sourced from big-name, global food corporations. But now, boutique proprietors around the world are turning the minibar into a focal point for playful independence.

At Hotel Havana in San Antonio guests can rehydrate with Mexico’s Topo Chico sparkling water and chomp on Righteous Felon Habanero Jerky and Mavuno Dried Tropical Mix. It taps into Texas’s cross-border culture, offering an “eclectic assortment of pan-Latin goods”, according to Amaris Brinks, the site’s room director.

Why offer guests something they can just get for cheaper on Deliveroo

At Palisociety, which has seven sites across Los Angeles, the bar stocks vegan protein bars made by three-time-Michelin-starred chefs and non-alcoholic booze by Bella Hadid’s brand Kin Euphorics.

And if the minibar at Sinner Paris was to be an actual bar, the mood would be dimly lit and sexy: it’s stocked with condoms and poppers, while vibrators are on the menu at The Williamsburg in Brooklyn. “They’re packaged neatly between the potato chips and candy bars,” smiles Julita Swietochowska, general manager at the soon-to-be Arlo-Williamsburg. “A hotel should be fun.”

Many have updated the barware too. Palm Heights and Soho House furnished theirs with crystal glasses, while Ett Hem in Stockholm includes fresh lemons, limes and trays of ice. “You can put a little drink together yourself without needing to go to the bar,” says Mats Klingberg, founder of menswear store Trunk. “I love it when hotels go the extra mile.” Khalil thinks “curating the guest experience of opening the pantry door is just as important . . . as choosing bathroom products, art or in-room furniture”. The minibar can “feel very personal”, she says. Arlo Williamsburg’s Swietochowska calls it a “symbol of hospitality”.

In the era of food delivery apps and on-demand everything, the minibar has had to evolve to stay relevant. “Why offer guests something they can just get for cheaper on Deliveroo or in the supermarket down the road?” says Henry Connell, founder of British canned-wine brand The Uncommon. Since May, it’s been stocked in the Waldorf’s bedside bars.

While the Penny in Williamsburg has launched its own contactless delivery app called the Penny Mart. Guests order using a QR code: it stocks everything from healthy, microwaveable meals for the in-room kitchenettes to sunscreen, seaweed face masks and ice-cream sandwiches. “It’s ‘out of the norm’ items you’d see in a store, or that guests might have forgotten to pack,” says Zoe Goldberg, brand and creative director at Penny. The hotel orders stock in smaller quantities when testing new products, allowing it to be more experimental in its buy, and adapt to customer demand. 

The minibar at One & Only Reethi Rah in the Maldives doesn’t exactly have competition when it comes to high-street candy shops. But no matter: guests, who pay upwards of $2,000 a night, are offered a bespoke in-room bar. Information about a guest’s preferred brands, specific snacks and favoured milks are requested, and sourced, in advance by the hotel’s team, with a custom offering ready for check-in.

“Your minibar selection says a lot about you,” says Connell, whose wine cans feature quirky illustrations. Kirsten Leigh Pratt, principal of hotel and branding for Palisociety, agrees: “It’s a way of bringing our vision to life, sharing our favourite finds and things.” Further flex comes from the fact these many indie foodmakers are driven by more than the commercial bottom line. “Snacks are a form of social currency,” says Noor Freiha, founder of Kyoot, which works with small-scale farmers in the Peruvian Amazon and uses wrappers made out of 100 per cent recyclable paper. Her vegan dark chocolate bars are stocked in Soho House and The Twenty Two hotel in London.

For brands — particularly ones more likely to be sold in niche, small delis than big supermarket chains — the exposure is unparalleled. “The Waldorf has more than 200 rooms that are full every day of the year,” says Connell. “We’ve had enquiries from travellers asking if they can find us overseas.” But the relationship is mutually beneficial. “Local brands make our Penny Mart more fun,” says Goldberg; the Penny gives guests a $10 minibar credit per day to encourage exploration. “We all like to root for the little guy.” A midnight snack never felt so guilt-free.