The items in the back of the image with the exception of the thin purple notebook remain by the register in a mule mug or julep cup for quick access:

iPod: In case internet service cuts out and the Pandora station fails to load. Also mostly useful as a calculator for splitting checks five ways, summoning an Uber/Taxi, settling bar bets, quickly finding the proportions to an obscure cocktail. While some may balk at having to look up recipes, it is simply best practice to choose ensuring order accuracy over pride.

Thin Notebook: I have the memory of a drug-addled old man selling socks on the side of the road. I still have to write some things down.

Planner (indicated with sewn red rectangle): I work two jobs and have been working every day for the last 25 days. I would rather not confuse the two or have shifts overlap. Handy for remembering anniversaries/dates where you should take your girlfriend’s new dress out for dinner.

Cocktail Quick Reference (Indicated with sewn gold star): Used for keeping track of any cocktail menu add-ons, client favorites or menu items which I have shamelessly stolen from my friends.

-All remaining items are carried on my person-

In the Vest: Vests are a personal choice, just like plaid is a personal choice. I choose to wear a vest not only because I believe that it adds to the service experience, but because practically it is a piece of load bearing equipment (LBE) which allows me to evenly distribute the weight of my tools and carry more items. What lives in my vest lives there because there is no room for it in the pockets of my famously tight pants.

Pens: One Scotch Malt Whisky Society pen for myself and one I could give a shit about, so yes, of course you can borrow it to finish your sudoku.

Flammables: Lighter for flamed zests and candle lighting, backup lighter, matches to loan out which have usually been taken from either Quinn’s or Smith.

In the Trousers:

Wine Key: I don’t need to shell out $1500 for a wine key and neither do you. If someone asks you, “hey, can I borrow your wine key?” what they are really asking you is: “Hey, do you have a wine key that you never want to see again?” These basic five-dollar wonders are built to take a beating, work flawlessly and need less maintenance than a Glock. One respected older gentleman (and I use that term loosely) bartender I used to work with doesn’t carry a wine key, bottle opener or pocket knife. All he carries during service is a Swiss Army Knife and a pen. And his reading glasses when he’s writing out tabs.

Bottle Opener (with can punch): when I worked in much seedier places, the can punch was…handy. Now that I work in a place where I can wear a tie bar, the can punch has finally been used for its intended purpose, and frequently so. I don’t like unnecessary trips to and from the kitchen, so I don’t even have to make the hike to ask for a can opener to bust open the giant can of tomato juice used for our Sriracha-laced Bloody Mary Mix. The bottle opener is handy because I don’t like using the wall-mounted one. It is an unnecessary trip and too often leads to my face being sprayed with beer, and not in the good way.

Uncle Mike’s Pocket Holster: Compact holster for carrying all the above-listed tools. Once I ditch my pack and jacket, all I have to do is grab my holster out of the pack and walk upstairs.

Shine them or have someone do it for you.

As I left my bar the other night, I was reminded by another bartender that we can make the best drinks with the freshest ingredients, but none of it would mean anything if we didn’t take pride in serving our guests. Being attentive, with your head on a swivel and eyes on the room is and will always remain the hallmark of a great waitron, and is something that I’m continually learning. To quote him, “If you can handle a line three deep while managing the dining room, processing tickets *and* you can bus tables *and* keep everything clean while doing all that, people will respect the shit out of you.”

That said, you are as much a part of the room as the bartop itself. Just like this guy said, the little clean things matter: clean and trim your fingernails. Don’t use an inverted Boston glass to strain your drink, unless it is for yourself and for some unexplainable reason you don’t give a damn, and polish your shoes.

To be rough, many of our guests consider bartenders to be the harbinger of all classy things and of manly diversions. For some strange reason, when I’m scoping out a place, the cocktail list is not at the top of my list of things I look for. The cocktail list is actually somewhere near the middle. The top of the list is how hospitable the staff is to the guests, then I glance at their fingernails and then their shoes, then the state of the washrooms, the dining room floor, etc.

If you find yourself reading this, keep in mind that many of these posts are simply my own rambling and helps me remember all those little things I learn on the job. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

When was the last time you engaged in the manly art of polishing one’s shoes?

Now taking bets on how long Kate will let me keep it in our small apartment.

One big room, full of bad bitches. Image Credit: riptapparel.com

I believe that, to a certain extent, there must be a certain obsessiveness about other, seemingly inane or otherwise nerdy things that somehow manifest themselves into an obsessiveness about ingredients, technique, philosophy and history. I may be wrong, but I think that the same curiosity which drives 2 a.m. Wikipedia click-fests about Halo mythology is the same curiosity which drives the same person to dig up and re-create recipes for Amer-Picon. Perhaps an uncommon fascination with LEGO is the same fascination which drives someone to improve the dry-shake and cringe at the sound of a shaken Manhattan Cocktail. I mean this in the best way possible, but maybe the same obsessiveness which allows an encyclop(a)edic knowledge of Star Wars (Canon and EU. You’re welcome, Dave.) is the same which allows an encyclop(a)edic knowledge of spirits, bitters and the history behind them.

In some circles, these personality traits are frowned upon, but shouldn’t it make sense that in this industry that we should be addicted to information, to continual learning, to innovation? Will the same person who takes pride in their vinyl make a quality gin & tonic, the ultimate test and the omelette of the bar trade? Well, perhaps- but I think that while many individuals may learn a recipe, this audiophile is more likely to elect to go a step further, and learn about quinine, how goddamn hard it is to find now that Medicare no longer subsidizes its production, find the appalling amount of sugar in one of the components, only to develop his own recipe for tonic water, find that London Dry is not the only style of gin, and nerd-jack more than his share of non-alcohol-related conversations to surprising disdain and blank stares.

There are drawbacks too. Do you ever find yourself more at home behind the bar than walking down the street? Personally, I’m far friendlier with a barrier of wood and steel between us. Some of us need that barrier in order to function socially, some of us don’t. But whether it is design, sci-fi or Russian literature you obsess over, I feel safe bellied-up to the rail. Not because the room has gotten good press, or because your washrooms are clean, but because I know you’ve studied exhaustively and loved every minute of it. I guess what I’m saying here is: Help us, nerds- you’re our only hope.

I knew a band once called The New American Standard. They were kind of emo and bitter. I like their name, and with a healthy amount of bitters as its base, I think the name is rather fitting. As an added plus, I get to riff on classic American cocktails: the Old-Fashioned and the Sazerac. For other really fine bitters-heavy cocktails, try an Angostura Collins at my former (and brief) home, Canon on Capitol Hill in Seattle, as well as a Trinidad Sour from Giuseppe Gonzalez, at one of his many homes in NYC.

http://jeffreymorgenthaler.com/2008/how-to-make-your-own-ginger-beer/

A friend of mine is working the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in Scotland this summer and fanagled her way behind the stick.  I’m pretty excited for her. Here’s an excerpt from this morning’s messages. Because she’s an American being paid under the table overseas, and I don’t want her Visa getting revoked, the names herein (except my own) have been changed to protect our respective interests:

• • Dear Ricky,
    I need your advice. I’ve managed to get my way into a bar shift on Friday, and despite having worked in restaurants and coffee shops I’ve never actually worked in a bar. This is going to be a fairly straightforward affair, no fancy cocktails as far as I know, but I’d still love some advice from a pro so I can pretend like I know what I’m doing. Pro tips?Hope all is well!
    Ethyl (<==See what I did there? –ed.)
• 

  42 minutes ago

  
  

  • Hmm, I can’t really claim to be a pro but there are a few things that I’ve learned to be best practices.PROTIP: Looking people in the eye, saying please and thank you go a long way, and in combination will turn the biggest, most belligerent asshole into one of your biggest tippers. Never lose your nerve or your smile.Keep your glassware clean. Its fucking embarrassing to have no glasses and a crowd of thirsty people.Know where everything is, even if it means coming in for one day on your day off to belly up at the bar and stare at the stuff behind it. Do you have Laphroig 12y Single Malt? In Scotland? Fuck yes, I have- but the taste is ruined if you spend ten minutes trying to find it. Those are ten minutes you could have spent earning your living.

    Conversely: put everything back where you found it. Seriously.

    For you, in particular, try to pick up on people’s accents and learn how to say cheers and thank you in their native languages. It establishes a bond between them and you. This translates to them being more lenient about things you’ve missed, and them tipping a compatriot better; you did take the time to recognize them apart from the crowd, after all.

    Never stop moving, except to smoke. You know how steam wand handles can get sticky and make you feel weird? You remember how when everything is clean when you first come on shift how everything flows smoother? Same thing behind the bar. Bottlenecks get nasty and sticky. Soda guns especially. Bus some glassware, You’ll look like a professional badass.

    Most cocktails at their very, very basic are 2 parts hard spirit base, one part sweet, one part modifier:

    Lemon drop: 2:1:1 Vodka,Triple Sec, Lemon Juice
    Margarita: 2:1:1 Tequila, Triple Sec, Lime Juice

    If you can remember that most cocktails are 2:1:1, 3:1: dash bitters (Like a Manhattan or Martini) , or 1:1:1, you’ll be fine.

    Also learn that lots of cocktails are just the same as another, but with a different base spirit. A Manhattan is just a Martini with Whisky instead of Gin, A lemon drop is just a whisky sour with vodka instead of whisky. Easy.

    And finally, don’t be so proud that you can’t ask questions. Some of the best bartenders I know didn’t know how to make something, said so, but asked if knew what went in it. A server who spoke little English last night at Sea Garden downtown did just that and mixed my group up a round of Duck Farts, and after telling him what was in it, we were served chilled, layered shots. We tipped accordingly.

    Good Luck, Ethyl!

    Post-Script: http://rumdood.com/2011/05/26/5-things-ive-learned-behind-the-bar/ Matt Robold’s invaluable insight.

It was a really cool idea. Introduce dissolved gasses into a cocktail, say, a Jack Rose Cocktail, and you’ve got a classy adult soda on your hands. Hopefully with a healthy dose of the bonded stuff.

Beyond the novelty of having a sparkling cocktail without the dilution brought by soda water, the perlage climbing up the flute would bring the aroma to the nose of the drinker. It also opened up or intensified flavor. Take for example, shaken tea. Stirred and chilled, it tastes flat, because it is. Shaken hard, the aeration opens up the flavors and aromas of the tea and even makes it taste sweeter without the addition of simple syrup.

The same concept applies to cocktails. The colder a beverage is, the more sugar must be added for it to taste sweet. With the addition of dissolved gases, the drink may be chilled way down and will take less syrup to sweeten it, allowing for a less viscous mouthfeel to your cocktail.

On to gas mix. Repeat after me: Carbon Dioxide (CO2)=Coarse, Nitrous Oxide (NO)=Fine.

CO2 is great for carbonating viscous liquids. Dissolved, it creates large, coarse bubbles. In terms of ice, think of it as your Kold Draft cubes. It is good for most applications.

NO creates fine, fine bubbles. The reason that isi Whipped Cream canisters use NO gas, is because of these fine bubbles. In heavy cream, the large CO2 bubbles would dissipate quickly, leaving you with a large glob of fat. Tiny NO bubbles whip up a more appetizing glob of fat. It retains in the medium longer because of its size, and the structure holds. That’s why it looks so goddamn pretty. It’s like crushed ice.

So why not just use Nitrous Oxide for all applications?

Because it will explode out of your face. Nitrous oxide dissolves easily in liquids, but it becomes disassociated just as easily. In the glass, a NO-infused cocktail will sit pretty until it comes in contact with a surface with lots of nooks and crannies… like your tongue.

You know the principle behind Diet Coke and Mentos? Same thing, but the Diet Coke is Negroni and the Mentos is your tongue. The bottle? That is your face. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

I like my face intact and my sinuses devoid of high-proof spirit. Why would I want to use nitrous oxide in my gas mix?

Soda pop is charged with CO2 because of the presence of viscous syrups. Also because it is cheap. Cocktails contain less viscous material, so the addition of NO gas to the CO2-rich siphon gas mix is the difference in mouthfeel between Coke and Champagne.

Is there a simple way of doing this?

Sure. Although, in this method it is most cost-effective to charge them in 32 oz. batches.

1) Fill and cap siphon.

2) Charge with an 8-gram CO2 cartridge. DO NOT SHAKE. Remove the cartridge.

3) Invert the siphon so that an airspace forms at what used to be the base of the siphon and depress the trigger for one second, releasing some CO2.

4) Charge the balance with an 8-gram NO cartridge. Shake hard. Eject the NO cartridge.

That’s it. Four steps to smoother bubbles.

So, it’s been a few months since I’ve been behind the stick, and it’s got me depressed something awful when I think about it. Then I realize that I’m still 22 and have a long while before I should start to worry about it.

I’m bartending one of my friend’s (and former professor) party in a few weeks, and truth be told, I’m pretty excited. I actually kind of missed the smell of lime oil erupting in little clouds from the press and the sound of ice against glass and steel.

I would say that I miss serving my clients too, but I get to do that every day behind a different counter, dispensing uppers instead of downers. Come to think of it, every job I’ve ever held dealt in legal, addictive stimulants.

/rambling

So, maybe it’s just me, but I feeeeeeeeeel as if my friends are stuck on cheap, american rice beer (Yes, Budweiser. I’m looking at you.) super-premium vodka and energy drinks.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I feel that at my ripe old age, I’m waiting for the rest of my kin to start drinking better. In the meantime, I’m kicking back with a cabinet full of books and booze. This is shelf two of three.

Where the fuck was I again? Oh yeah. The menu. It’s really hard to put together a cocktail list, even if you aren’t selling them so much as making them for a party. I decided one page is enough, maybe three to five cocktails, just to help guide some decisions.

But being a young, inexperienced bartender, I had questions: is it best to weigh more heavily on a specific spirit or have an even distribution? In terms of labor, should I place my loss-leader at the top or bottom of the list? Will the politician (who will remain unnamed) who brought his own Black Velvet last time turn his nose up at Fernet? Will Smith on Capitol Hill mind that I totally ripped off their menu format (and Trinidad Sour, which they totally ripped as well, removing the 2 oz. of Angostura Bitters during the bottle shortage?)

I also figured that I shouldn’t put anything on the list I wouldn’t drink myself. I didn’t create any of these, but chose them because they’re easy to build quickly and because they’re damn tasty. I just hope that somewhere in the jumble these professors will be able to find something they’ll enjoy.

In about five days, the rosemary-infused genever will be crafted into a rosemary ginger smash:

2 oz. Rosemary-Infused Bols Genever

1 oz. Vodka-Sec

1 oz. Fresh-Squeezed Lemon Juice

Small (about 3/4 in.) stick of ginger.

Muddle the ginger at the bottom of the shaker to extract the juice, add liquid ingredients.

Shake. Hard, with ice until a frost forms on the outside of the tin.

Strain into an old-fashioned glass over clean ice and garnish with a sugar-dusted sprig of fresh rosemary.

Cheers,

Ricky