Bar Stories

2009-05-08T08:59:00.000-07:00

It's official, folks: I've retired Bar Stories for the time being. I just don't have the time these days to devote to this baby, and I'm not sure I have much else to add that can't be found elsewhere on the plethora of drinks blogs now out there. So, feel free to peruse the archives, and definitely check me out at the Roughstock Library, and thanks for reading—last round's on me.

Hoisting a glass in honor of Repeal Day

2007-12-05T17:19:00.000-08:00

The following is an article from the New York Sun dated September 6, 1930. It's the story of one family in the restaurant business—my family—and not only is it a fascinating look at hospitality and daily life in the first half of the last century, it also seems an appropriate way to honor Repeal Day.

"A recent transfer of a lease for a restaurant property in Chambers street, near Broadway, brings back memories of a family who for fifty years or more catered to the eating and drinking appetites of some of the best known men in New York. It was the house of Schmidt—headed by the father Louis, and his two sons, Ollie and George. They actually put the liquor or saloon business on the business map and conducted it as one might conduct a banking institution.

Louis Schmidt opened and ran for many years the place at 6 Center street and it was known far and wide as Pier 6. Just why this name became attached to the place is not of record. It was in this place that two sons were instructed into the mysteries of drink mixing. From the start they liked the business and stuck to it as long as Andrew Volstead kept his ideas to himself.

It must be conceded that the Schmidt menage was good when it had upward of a dozen competitors in the triangle on which now stands the Municipal Building. It was then bounded by Tryon Square on the south, on which the Staats-Zeitung Building faces; Center street, Chambers street and Park Row. In the newspaper building there was a famous rathskeller. Next door was Pier 6. Then came Leggat's hotel and bar. Two doors away was Humpy Hanover's Curio and on the corner Paddy Shea's.

While all these places were going full blast, the Schmidt boys and their father kept right on selling good things to eat and drink. George, the younger son, was born over the saloon on Center street and has been in business barely three blocks away from there during his life. Ollie, being older, took over the burden when his father died and continued the name of Schmidt in the purveying business.

Not far away from the Schmidt domicile was the home of the Stender family in William street, just around the corner from Spruce street. Ollie was a live wire and so was Emma Stender, the niece of the elder Kate, who established the famous Kate's, which ran until a few years ago and which went out of business because liquor was taboo in the premises. Good food could be had until the day the key turned in the door for the last time. Some years ago Ollie died. His wife, Emma, assisted by sisters, Kate and Frieda, tried to carry on. Many of the old customers stuck, although they had to forgo their accustomed whisky sour or the seductive cocktail or a schoppen of Rhine wine with their meals.

Ollie had died and Emma had followed in a few years and the load was left for Kate and Frieda. It was too much of a load with only a few hours of eating each day, and they closed the place.

But to get back to the Schmidt boys. Ollie had a following. The Center street place was not magnificent as far as appointments went, but the bottled goods were of the very best. The small priced luncheons were tasty and the free lunch good. So when the place was forced to close the boys looked about to see what could be had to take over the trade who constantly reminded them they should stay in the neighborhood.

The place at 81 Chambers street long had been an established place and they took it over. Then the difference of opinions of the two brothers became known. Ollie thought the place should be closed at 7 o'clock each evening. George thought a later hour would be better. But the hour was 7 o'clock, and if a customer happened to be in the bar at that hour he was asked to take a "nightcap" on the house and everybody started away from 81 Chambers street, but the records do not show they always went directly home.

From the start the Schmidt ownership prospered, but Ollie thought he should have a place of his own and he therefore opened on Park Row at the apex of North William street, one of the handsomest cafes then to be seen in lower Manhattan. It was not a success and Ollie lost practically all he had saved and dumped into a place that was not wanted on a street of people who were rushing to catch subways and elevated trains. Brooklyn Bridge terminal was in those days a wonderful railroad terminus, but the Schmidt place did not seem to appeal.

Ollie therefore took over the William street place made so famous by Kate. City officials and newspapermen of note of other days congregated here and pleasant hours of reminiscence often brought to light interesting news stories that found their way into print. The Schmidt boys as well as the Stender girls were known to writers and public officials generally, but their support was not adequate to pay the overhead when the Volstead law became a part of the dictum of the day.

But George Schmidt stood his ground. When the law against the sale of intoxicating liquors became operative he stood by the law and never sold an illegal drink. But he did try to make his restaurant stand up a little straighter and reorganized hi place with full restaurant equipment and with this he has gone along until he decided he had been in the purveying business long enough and barely a stone's throw from the place he was born.

The Chambers street place had a couple of things to its credit that did not call for the use of alcoholic stimulant. True the corned beef and cabbage on Wednesdays have tasted a little better with a glass of real beer, but George's customers knew the value of the food and were satisfied to forgo the stimulant. On Saturday's he had a dish of pork and beans that attracted men from far and near. Men who had never called except on Saturday could be counted in the throng, for such it was, during the bean season, which seemed to run the year round.

George Schmidt has not served a drink behind a bar for many years and he probably will never mix another, but he has fond memories of his lifelong experience catering to men in public life in New York city. He has known personally Mayors and their cabinets and the writers followed him around as they did Kate and Ollie. Now he plans to retire from active daily routine and take a rest that may eventually take him up to Connecticut, where he has his eye on a cozy place that will be his home for the rest of his days.

Many years ago the Schmidts—father and sons as well as sisters-in-law—wrote their names into the hearts of good eaters and drinkers. All sorts of men—and no women—found their way into 6 Center street and the other places. One of the customers wrote a piece of poetry of fourteen verses which he had printed on good paper and was distributed to the patrons of the place. The man was retiring enough to withhold his name, but the author was known to those on the inside. On the first page titld "Pier 6" is a cut of Ollie and George Schmidt. It points out that Ollie is the owner and that George and Fred and Ollie Curtis are 'a brave quartet of bartenders, who only serve the best.'"

Now please, go out and celebrate.

Pause...

2007-09-08T15:54:00.000-07:00

It's official. I am taking a few weeks off to recover, regroup and rethink what I'm doing with Bar Stories. I owe a huge thanks—THANKS!—to all of you for your incredibly generous thoughts, comments and emails.

As much as I love writing about (and drinking, of course) adult bevs, the accident has taken more out of me than I ever expected. I only have so much time and energy, and I'm finding that drinks writing just isn't where my head is right now. I'm not swearing this sucker off forever, by any means. But for now, I'll be focusing on some of my other projects until I find my energy levels and physical capabilities are back to normal.

If you're one of the few readers who visits Bar Stories for my sparkling personality and drop-dead good looks, there are two ways to keep me close:

The first is Blog! Blog! is the best representation of my interests and personality that you'll find on the web. It's a little bit dysfunctional right now (kind of like me), but I'm in the process of redesigning the entire site and it'll be sooo sexy when it's done, you won't be able to take your eyes off of it.

The second is to subscribe to the rss feed (up there, on the right). It's fast and easy, and it'll instantly inform you when I've updated Bar Stories. You can even subscribe via email.

So again, cheers for sticking with me and pretending to care about what I have to say! Stay tuned...

Raise Your Glass

2007-08-30T12:10:00.000-07:00

According to All About Beer magazine, beer critic and advocate Michael Jackson passed away last night. I've gotten maudlin enough on this blog in recent weeks, so I'll allow others to mourn this font of beer expertise and appreciation in my place:

The Potable Curmudgeon (Roger Baylor)
Appellation Beer (Stan Hieronymus)
Brookston Beer Bulletin (Jay Brooks)
Seen Through a Glass (Lew Bryson)

That said, I'd also like to point out that yesterday marked the second anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. Our government's abysmal failure to prepare for such a disaster, to react to it once it happened, and to adequately rebuild such an integral part of our own country remains a stain on American history. I really believe the best way to honor those who've suffered (be it from natural causes or man-made) is to act, and to act with mindfulness.

How you choose to act is entirely up to you.

The Blink of an Eye

2007-08-09T12:58:00.000-07:00

It's easy to create drama on the internet, to make more of something than it really is. On Friday, August 3rd, I was in a car crash. I've called it an accident on occasion since, when discussing it with family and friends, but it did not feel like an accident. When a stranger so violently and deliberately steers a car through a red light, accident feels somehow an inappropriate word.

The moment itself was exactly like the movies—the noise, the telescoping of time, a car sailing through the air. The most incredible part for me, though, was not the drama of what happened but what didn't happen. I did not die. In fact, all three of us drivers involved opened our car doors, stepped outside, and made our way to the sidewalk where we were engulfed by a growing crowd.

The fact that I am, relatively speaking, okay—hurting, achy, bruised, swollen—but okay (that is, alive), still slightly surprises me almost a week later. I don't put it that way for the sense of drama, but because going into it I was sure I wouldn't be. As soon as it dawned on me that this woman was going to drive at full speed straight through her red light and into me, I braced for something I knew would happen. The impact came sure enough. But afterwards, looking up at that green light through my windshield, I had to double check to make sure it wasn't a symbolic green light.

The point of all this is nothing more than an explanation for why you haven't heard from me all week. And for why you probably won't hear from me for a while longer yet. The crash has raised some funny questions for me. Not questions about guardian angels or reasons for things happening, but questions about how I can spend my time now that I can't sit in front of a computer for very long. According to my statistics, there are a lot more of you readers out there than I ever would have expected and it occurs to me that I don't know you very well. I'd like to. Because although writing on the internet is often an exercise in egotism, for me it is also about the craft of writing and exploring ideas.

So now that my time online is limited, I want to make the most of it. Will you tell me what you think? About it all: your experience with this site, with the ideas I write about, with what you'd really like to read about, with all of it? There are all kinds of rules and tips and suggestions for writing on the net; much of it is either bullshit or common sense and I'd like to offer a little bit more than that. I would love for you to leave your thoughts below, or even to email me directly if you prefer.

[I've also posted this entry on my other blog, Small Failures.]

Happy Hour: Coattails of the Cocktail Edition

2007-07-27T09:00:00.000-07:00

I didn't go to Tales of the Cocktail for two simple reasons: not enough time, and not enough budget. Those of my fellow drinks writers and cocktail aficionados who did get to go, however, have generously shared their boozy experiences with the rest of us little folk:

Duggan McDonnell
A gleeful, if hungover, description of what it's like to spend a week drinking with some of the biggest boozehounds in the nation. Duggan is the creative genius and owner behind San Francisco's Cantina.

Camper English
His swag bag awards are perfect—so much crap handed out events like these! Check out his entire haul. In one of his other TOTC recaps, he also touches on a point that consistently bothers me about the hospitality industry: we're not all friggin' meat eaters, people!

Stephen Beaumont
I like a man who speaks his mind. Steven calls out the moderator of one particular session, which takes balls in an industry where everyone seems to fawn a little too much for my tastes. It's a shame when people pay good money to watch someone not do their job very well.

Paul Clark
Paul lets us in behind the scenes, and then lets out what looks to me like my new favorite cocktail: the Procrastination Cocktail. Nothing could be more perfect.

Wineries: You Need to Check This Out

2007-07-26T17:13:00.000-07:00

I know I have at least a couple of winemakers on my reader list, so this one's just for you. Direct sales can be a big boon to the indie winery, and if you haven't heard of Inertia Beverage Group, you should check them out. But aside from that little plug, I have bigger and more important one. They're about to launch a free service that allows you to generate state-specific compliance forms for your direct-to-consumer sales.

The tool will be available to any winery, not just IBG's customers, and it is compiled and maintained by what seems to be a rather reliable team of legal and wine industry experts. Just imagine what it would be like if you didn't have to wrangle with state-by-state conformance laws: you'd save time, money and headaches.

Now, I'm not affiliated with IBG in any way, shape, or form (in fact, I could consider them a competitor since I run a communications studio for a living). But I've been following their blog throughout the development of this program, and have been consistently impressed with their transparency and commitment to the industry overall. The little guys need more companies working on their behalf. This kind of tool is a great way to introduce themselves to the marketplace, while advancing the cause of direct-to-consumer trade.

Despite the controversy this is stirring up (some folks just don't trust free), I hope independent wineries give this tool a shot. No, it doesn't mean you can lose your lawyer, but it sure could help make your life easier overall. I'd love to hear what you all think of this.

A Bitters Booklet

2007-07-26T16:43:00.000-07:00

Phil over Lamb Martini (best blog title yet) shares with us the scanned contents of his 1934 booklet, "Angostura Recipes."

This is very cool folks—there are a lot of drink book collectors out there, and it's very cool to see these treasures first-hand, if not in-hand.

More Wine-Beer Parallelism

2007-07-26T15:12:00.001-07:00

Regular readers of Bar Stories know that I find the continuing beer vs. wine debate among those who typically claim themselves to be educated drinkers to be consistently comic (and, really, just a load of...hooey. Poppycock? Okay, okay, it's a load of horsesh--).

As further proof that wine and beer share certain similarities, I point to the ongoing debate within each industry over hot wines and extreme beers, respectively. It seems that both wine and beer have a contingent of followers who absolutely love a highly alcoholic (and in the case of beer, highly hopped) beverage.

But then there are the "average" drinkers: the bulk of folks who don't know nor particularly care about the nuanced differences between a French Bordeaux and an American Meritage, who don't understand (nor care about) how an extra pale ale really differs from an IPA. These folks happen to be the bulk of the market, which means that when trends like "extreme" beer and highly alcoholic wines take off, there are a whole of people left out in the cold. Witness winemaker Randy Dunn's latest missive:

"The current fad of higher and higher alcohol wines should stop. Most wine drinkers do not really appreciate wines that are 15 -16. +% alcohol. They are, in fact, hot and very difficult to enjoy with a meal...I don’t believe the average person is so insensitive to flavors and aromas that they must have a 15% Cabernet, Chardonnay, or Pinot Noir to get the aromas and flavors."

Now compare this to Lew Bryson's exploration of the extreme beer backlash in February's issue of Beer Advocate magazine:

"...we are, as Independence Brew Pub (Philadelphia) brewer Tim Roberts reminds us, a very small group: 'While we might consider Sierra Nevada Bigfoot tame,' he says, 'almost everyone else in the world would disagree. It's a very small group of people that feel that those types of [highly alcoholic, highly hopped] beers are somehow standard now, and want something more over-the-top.'"

The fact is, the majority of the market doesn't want extreme. And this is equally true for both beer and wine. The funny thing about it, though, is that I suspect many extreme wine fans have discovered an appreciation for extreme beers through their very love of such...extremity, and vice versa. Those who seek out intense flavors and tongue-tingling ABV levels easily recognize such characteristics in other beverages, which can quickly open up a whole new world to them.

Now, I would never advocate limiting production of any particular kind of wine or beer. Instead, I think we'd all be better served if producers would keep taking risks, keep seeking out new audiences for their "fringe" products, and keep mastering the old standbys as well. It's all a matter of appreciating the various points on a single beverage spectrum.

Beer in a Box: The Answer to Keg Theft?

2007-07-22T15:18:00.000-07:00

Stop the presses! Keg thefts are on the rise! An AP article making the rounds over the past couple of weeks reported that the going rate for scrap metal has climbed dramatically, and as a result beer kegs have been disappearing left and right. On the surface, this might not seem like a big deal, but for craft brewers it can be a significant blow to the bottom line. And consumers may be the ones who end up paying for it.

The problem lies squarely with the keg system: breweries send their beer-filled kegs to distributors, who sell them to stores and bars. The stores and bars must return the empty kegs to the distributors, who in turn send 'em back to the breweries to be cleaned and refilled. It's a great system when it works, because it ensures fresh beer for consumers and it's more environmentally conscious than single-use bottles and cans (kegs can last for decades). But consumers need only put down a small deposit (generally $10-$30) when "buying" a keg at, say, BevMo. This means they can turn it around and sell it to a scrap yard at a profit if the amount they get for the metal exceeds their deposit.

Even the big boys are feeling the pain. Molson Coors won't say how many kegs they expect to lose this year, but they've got 800,000 kegs in circulation and the number of losses doubled last year over 2005. Sierra Nevada chalks up about 3% of their kegs to the black market every year. Considering that a replacement keg costs around $150, that's a lot of money being pulled from their pocket.

So what's the solution? The typical short-sighted response being offered by the Beer Institute and other industry groups is to lobby for higher keg deposits and ID requirements at the scrap house. But let's face it: this ain't gonna do much. Even if we embark on a state-by-state mission to pass laws, who's really going to enforce them? And how effective is it really going to be?

But what if there were another solution? Turns out, there might be. But I highly doubt the industry is ready for it (and hell, it may not even be ready for the industry). The Beer-in-Box system dispenses with the keg entirely. Functioning exactly the way wine-in-a-box does, the system decarbonates the beer prior to bagging and recarbonates it at dispensing with a special tap.

There are, of course, hurdles to overcome. First of all, industry hates change. The keg system is nationally understood and dispensing outlets (i.e. bars) are already equipped to handle traditional keg lines. The cost of implementing a new system could, for some, be prohibitive. On the supply end, breweries would have to convince distributors to take on this new system (good luck with that), and distributors would have to then convince outlets to re-equip.

There's also the issue of consumer perception; one critic described the concept of beer-in-a-box as "the Velveeta of beer" (mmmm...processed cheese). But is this a significant hurdle? Wine consumers have long fought the notion that boxed wines could actually be of decent quality, but a quick look at the numbers (and store shelves) reveals that boxed wine sales are up 70% over the last two years (of course, boxed wine represents just 1% of wine sales but some have estimated that they could eventually account for 10-15% of sales).* I personally think we're going to see huge growth of premium boxed wines as environmental concerns (and fuel costs) continue to grow, knocking the perception issue on its ass. And as we know (though hate to admit), the typical mass-market consumer just doesn't apply the same standards of quality to beer that they do to wine.

But the Beer-in-Box system begs an even more significant question: what the hell does it do to the beer? Issues of flavor, appearance, head retention and temperature all need to be considered. According to the inventors, the beer is less prone to bacteria and spoilage. They also claim that the system produces a "more consistent, more compact head of foam."* And every bartender will tell you that consistent head is a really good thing. As for flavor, there is only one bar in all the world (from what I can tell) currently using the system, and they're in Germany. So I can't tell you if it affects the flavor or not. One concern might be the effect of the plastic bag, but I suspect if the wineries have figured it out, this is really a non-issue.

The benefits of the Beer-in-Box system seem like they'd be well worth the effort of convincing the beer trade to adopt it. Assuming that quality is at worst unaffected and at best improved, the system also leaves us better off environmentally. Although switching to disposable packaging seems like a bad idea, it needs to be weighed against the energy/fuel consumption created by keg production, shipping and cleaning (bag-in-box packaging can be produced using recycled materials which themselves are recyclable, and they require less volume/fuel to transport).

There are logistical conveniences, too. Sizing would be incredibly flexible; bars could easily stock twice the number of draft beers, offering customers a wider selection. Bartenders and their barbacks (not to mention the hard-working delivery guys) wouldn't have to lift an additional 30 pounds when hauling kegs.

And finally, Bag-in-Box would flat-out solve the stolen keg problem. Breweries end up with a lot of money tied up in kegs floating through the various lanes of distribution. It's hard to keep filling kegs if the ones you've sent out previously aren't coming back to you quickly (or at all). The system could very likely pay for itself in lost keg savings.

So is it viable? You'll have to ask the inventors. They use it in their bar now, and have applied for the appropriate patents. But if it is, then perhaps, someday, you'll be drinking beer from a bag in a box yourself.

Happy Hour: Video Cocktails Edition

2007-07-20T09:50:00.000-07:00

Though I would never belittle the skills of the incredibly talented mixologists below, I will ask one question: is it possible to make a cocktail video without coming off as a total dork?

As though merely writing about drinks makes me somehow less dorky.

The Cocktail Spirit with Robert Hess
Straightforward and informative, with fantastic background and historic details. Robert knows his stuff, and he does this for the love of the drink, clearly. You will learn something.

Cocktails on the Fly with Alberta Straub
I think there's a reason her stage name is "Flighty," but some of her recipes are rather intriguing. One caveat: she's quite the polarizing personality. I'm certainly not one to judge.

The Thinking Bartender's YouTube channel with George Sinclair
George doesn't actually say anything during these no-screwing-around vids, and he's got a nice balance of classic and trendier recipes. I'm not quite sure whether to bang my head, do aerobics, or light a cigarette and don a skimpy cocktail dress when viewing these.

Other drink videos I've mentioned previously but are worth checking out if you haven't yet: Stonch's Brewcam and Jimmy's Time Lapse Bartending.

Happy weekending!

Three Thieves Digs Mac 'n' Cheese

2007-07-19T18:33:00.000-07:00

Well, it seems as though I've been wrong all along: people actually like reading product reviews. Since I keep getting comments from folks who wonder why I don't write more of them, I've decided to throw up my hands, open wide, and toss back a drink or two—all in the name of providing my loyal readership with the valuable information you need to buy yourself some booze. Just one caveat: I don't give a hang about scores or reputations. Make that two caveats: I make no bones about the fact that I am one person with my own personal proclivities, however endearing or asinine they may be.

Those proclivities happen to include a fixation with both package design and mac 'n' cheese. The depth of this fixation was made abundantly clear to me the other night as I continued my pursuit of the elusive perfect homemade mac 'n' cheese recipe. As any good chef knows, the first step of any recipe is "pour yourself a glass of [insert adult beverage of choice here]."

Typically, I drink beer when I cook. But when I opened the fridge on this round, I was reminded that I had a box of wine that had been sitting there for a couple of weeks, waiting for that perfect moment when boxed wine would be an appropriate drink of choice (see how I brought it back to package design and mac 'n' cheese? I'm killer at that kind of thing).

If you're scoffing at the fact that I had boxed wine in my fridge, back off. Just look at this screaming green package and tell me you'd pass this up on the shelf. And I'm no dummy; I knew there was a decent chance that Three Thieves spent more effort on their marketing than they did on the wine inside the neat little box. And what a neat little box, indeed. It's technically known as a Tetrapak, and it's made by people who believe that "a package should save more than it costs" (and they mean both environmentally and financially). But Three Thieves has been known to produce some rather drinkable value wine.

So does the wine inside the box hold up to the niftyness of the package? Better yet, does it hold up to my latest incarnation of mac 'n' cheese? I'd purchased the 2006 Pinot Grigio and, on pouring it, caught a big whiff of tart green apple and citrus. That tartness carried through in the flavor—Pinot Grigio is typically fairly acidic and fruity, for those of you who aren't big winos. This was a good thing, because after ten minutes of whisking my Bechamel sauce over the hot stove, I was...hot...and the Three Thieves were kind enough to cool me down a little. (By the way, the secret to my mac 'n' cheese—aside from the ever-changing combo of cheeses—is Sierra Nevada's Pale Ale and Honey Spice Mustard. Oh my god, this stuff is incredible.)

By the time I got halfway through the second glass, the mac 'n' cheese was out of the oven and ready to eat (turns out, adding Gouda is a good thing). Again, the crispness of the wine was great with the creaminess of the dish, but in all fairness there really wasn't a whole lot else to it. I have to wonder if some of this is the nature of value wine: Three Thieves, like many value labels, basically buys overrun juice lots and blends them together until they get what they like. Is there something about a winemaker having a direct hand in the grape growing that inevitably makes a wine better? This particular batch didn't undergo a secondary malolactic fermentation and I was surprised to find I would have liked a little more creaminess to it. The dryness was nicely balanced, though, by the fruit (which gave it just a touch of sweetness without being cloying).

That said, for $7 a liter I was pleasantly surprised. Turns out the Thieves do know what they're doing. Putting a decent wine inside great—and ecologically responsible—packaging does good things for the value wine market. And even better things for my mac 'n' cheese.

Happy Hour: Friday the 13th Edition

2007-07-13T10:45:00.000-07:00

Today's your lucky day as this week's happy hour falls on such an auspicious date. So without further ado, let's get spooooky...

Lucky 13
Any Friday the 13th Happy Hour coverage would be sorely lacking if I didn't mention this San Francisco rock 'n' roll classic. This place has got everything (except a functioning website—bad omen?): red and black walls adorned with black cats, a huge craft beer selection, a tiny backyard, a pool table and pinball machines, and fantastic bartenders. You can read my full review on Beer Advocate.

Mike's Hard Lemonade Unleashes Some Bad Juju
I don't know about you, but I find malternatives a.k.a. alcopops pretty frightening. And apparently, I'm not the only one; the Cocktail Nerd took Mike's Hard Lemonade to task this week in response to their latest ad campaign. As Bill Hicks so kindly reminded us, marketers "are the ruiner of all things good" (warning: language). Thank you, Gabriel, for making me laugh my ass off.

We Are All Doomed
What's scarier than climate change and the whole earth heating up and frying us? Kudos to Dr. Vino for his continuing coverage of organic and biodynamic wines, which take less of a toll on our shared ecosystem. Take his poll, won't you?

Cocktails Kill Cancer
Who would've thought your cocktail obsession could help cure one of the scariest diseases out there? Enter your recipe in the Ultimate Cocktail for a Cure Competition to win cash and prizes, and help raise money for breast cancer research. Hurry though, as the entry deadline (July 31) is fast approaching.

Gary Regan Keeps It Real

2007-07-12T10:14:00.001-07:00

As far as cocktail experts go, Gary Regan lands squarely in the top tier. What's not to love about the author of The Joy of Mixology? But Gary's got a little advice for all those bartenders who take "cheap digs at others who work behind the stick." And when Gary offers advice, bartenders would do well to listen.

Gary's missive about grandiosity and big britches is exactly why I respect this guy—the man's got class. We can talk about culinary cocktails and perfect proportions till the cows come home, but professionalism goes beyond knowing how to mix a drink. It includes hospitality—in the truest sense of the word—and it includes respect for others.

So the next time you get all uppity about the way someone's acting behind the bar, remember what mama (and Gary said): "go spread some love the way bartenders are supposed to do, say nice things about people you admire, and keep your mouth shut if someone gets your goat."

What's That You Say?

2007-07-11T09:10:00.000-07:00

If you're having trouble leaving comments, please let me know. I seem to be having trouble on my other Blogger blog, but I'm not sure if it's going on here, too. Inquiring minds need to know...

Thanks!

What Sells Drinks?

2007-07-09T09:48:00.000-07:00

What influences a drinker more than any advertising or promotion when it comes to buying drinks in bars? Their bartender, of course! This earth-shattering revelation comes from a recent survey by the Adult Beverage Insights Group. And although it may seem screamingly obvious to many of us, the fact is that too many bar owners overlook the selling power of their own human capital.

So how can an owner help his or her bartender sell more? Stop stocking crap, for one thing. Quality tools allow the bartender to do a quality job; and when a bartender is proud of the drinks s/he's mixing, s/he'll be more likely to get the customer excited about it, too.

The other—and most important—way to help your bartender sell more and up is to give them the information they need to sell product. The survey's respondents support this idea that "familiarity and product knowledge are key influencers in what they sell at the bar." That means training them on proper mixing techniques, setting up regular tastings, and getting them involved in menu creation.

Sadly, there was one thing this study revealed that sent a chill down my spine: it turns out that a lot of bartenders actually prefer working with "fewer ingredients and convenient mixers." But perhaps this is less of an indication of laziness, and more of a cry for help. Maybe with a little extra training and exposure to higher standards, these bartenders will learn to appreciate the joy of freshly squeezed juices and carefully prepped garnishes.

The Session 5: Atmosphere

2007-07-06T11:34:00.000-07:00

[I haven't participated in Session Friday since the first one, mainly because I have enough deadlines. But this month's "atmosphere" session, hosted by Hop Talk, is a good 'un and I wanna play.]

Beer drinking locales are almost limitless: a long cross-country flight, your local watering hole, the comfort of your living room couch, a wedding, your neighbor's backyard BBQ, the ball game—I think you get the idea. But for my money, one of the most overlooked yet rewarding beer-drinking locales is the very brewery in which it was made. There are several reasons for this, not least of which is that you're getting the freshest damn beer you possibly can.

You also have the opportunity (usually) to talk with the brewers who are responsible for the pint of goodness making its way down your throat. When I visited the Harpoon Brewery in Windsor, VT last year, I had already missed the scheduled tours for the day. Instead, I had a really good grilled cheese sandwich and a Harpoon sampler in their cafe, and then got to chat with head brewer Matt while he did his daily chores on the brewing floor.

Most breweries are casual workplaces, with friendly staff who love to talk about what they do. Matt was no exception, and he offered me a taste of the wort as we spoke. In an age where automation and marketing teams throw up a polished, impenetrable surface over the products we put inside our bodies and digest, this kind of hands-on interaction gives you a much better appreciation for food and drink.

With over 1,300 craft breweries operating in 2006, you'd be hard pressed not to find a local brewery or brewpub near you (seriously—go do a quick search for a brewery near you). And many of these joints offer weekend activities like barbeques and concerts, where you can enjoy fresh hand-crafted brews, meet the folks who make it for you, and hang out with your friends.

One of the best regular brewery events I've been to is the Speakeasy Saturday BBQ (although by regular, I mean semi-regular; get on their mailing list if you want to know about them in advance). Just like pretty much every brewery event, the flavor of the festivities directly reflects the brewery's own beer style. In Speakeasy's case, that means you'll get great rock 'n' roll, a down-home BBQ menu, and a family-friendly place to enjoy a local brew. Ten bucks gets you in the door with a pint glass and four drink chips, so this is pretty much the best deal in town. A couple of months ago I got to see some great pirate punk bands, and their last BBQ was all surf.

So the next time you're trying to find a new place to drink, or you're interested in broadening your weekend plans, think about supporting your local brewery. You'll end up with good conversation, a belly full of deliciously fresh beer and who knows, you just might learn something from the guy or gal running the place!

Bartender Heroes and Other Amazing Tales

2007-07-02T09:43:00.000-07:00

Bartenders kind of hover between the super-cool rock stars of the blue collar workforce and the unforgettable peons who're there to serve the demanding public. Some days, obviously, are better than others. But we often forget that being in a customer-facing position of authority (and one that serves booze to boot) comes with a host of other responsibilities beyond mixing up liquid deliciousness or playing therapist to the after-work crowd. Robert Huegel recently scratched at the nasty underbelly of the drinks world when he discussed the absurdity of the new cocktail condom.

It seems the cocktail condom has been invented to prevent would be date rapers from drugging their unsuspecting victims. A noble cause, indeed. But is it effective? Robert handily dismisses such assurances, and I'm inclined to agree. The single most effective way to foil someone who intends to drug a victim is simple awareness on the part of both bar patrons and bartenders.

I've brought up the importance of bartender safety before, but there's another side to it that us bartenders like to conveniently leave out: we have a responsibility to our customers to provide a safe drinking environment. It's one of the reasons we can be personally held liable for serving underage drinkers, or serving intoxicated guests who then proceed to kill someone in a car accident. While I think much of the legislation holding individual servers accountable for potential problems often lacks the nuance necessary to effectively enforce such laws, I do feel strongly that bartenders have an obligation to their customers to do what they can, within reason, to maintain a safe drinking environment.

What does this include? Just how far should a bartender go to keep his or her clientele safe? I suspect that as a female bartender, I felt a little more protective of my customers than many male bartenders might (although I certainly know my share of chivalrous gentlemen barkeeps). I'll never forget bouncing a pool player one night when I discovered him lifting the skirt of a young woman—she couldn't have been older than 25—with his pool cue. The look on her face (kind of crestfallen, kind of scared) was enough to make me feel guilty. It was, after all, my bar. She really didn't know how to respond, so instead of confronting the guy she informed her friends in a low voice that she wanted to leave.

Rather than allow that to happen, I bought her a drink and asked if she minded if I confronted the guy (he was going to get ejected no matter what, but I wanted her permission to make a scene). I then promptly humiliated him in front of the crowded bar, letting him know that sexually harassing my customers was unacceptable. I made sure everybody in that bar knew exactly what he'd done (though not to whom). The look on his face was priceless, and I'd guess that he'll think twice before touching a stranger again.

This was a clear case of sexual harassment, in which the victim was well aware of what was going on and was visibly distraught; it was obvious that I needed to step in and handle the situation. But bartenders are trained to mind their own business—it's a fine line we walk between eavesdropping and "overhearing" conversations, for example. This is why I was careful to ask the woman's permission before getting involved to the degree I did. Take it a step further and you end up with many bartenders who simply turn their heads rather than deal with an uncomfortable situation.

Thank god cocktail waitress Karri Cormican and bartendress Hannah Bridgeman-Oxley don't feel that way. These two thwarted a potential rapist who tried to drug his date's beer. Twice. The waitress spotted the first incident when her female customer was in the restroom. Rather than pretend it was none of her business, she fed the couple a line about the beer being bad and promptly replaced it with a clean one (saving the adulterated beer for the cops). As the waitress was privately informing the woman outside about what had happened, the bartender caught him doing it again. This time they called the cops. The guy's been sentenced to a year in jail.

The woman, of course, was lucky that her hostesses were 1) paying attention and 2) felt an obligation to act. As this instance demonstrates, not every date rape case is the result of drunken stupidity a lá Girls Gone Wild (note: if you're ever in a bar that has actual signs posted on "How to Avoid Having Your Drink Drugged," that's probably not a bar you want to spend time in. And yes, I actually saw this sign in a bar once).

Which is all just to say:

Bartenders, pay attention! Your job doesn't end at mixing drinks and handing out change. You have an obligation to try your best to maintain a safe environment for your guests.
And drinkers, pay attention! Don't rely on others to save your ass; drink smart and make sure you're not opening yourself up to opportunists.

If we each took a little responsibility, we could probably prevent a lot of unsavory crap from going down, and you'd never need to utter the words "I'll take a pack of cocktail condoms" again.

[If you thought these bartenders were brave, you should read about my buddy J.]

Friday Happy Hour!

2007-06-26T15:20:00.000-07:00

So much for the weekly series! I missed last Friday so this round's on me:

Stonch's Brewcam
If you enjoyed Jimmy's time-lapse vid that I mentioned in the first Happy Hour, you ought to dig this one, too. Stonch has set up a time-lapse camera right up in his homebrew and captures all the foamy, delicious action. Mr. Wizard, alas, would be proud.

Doin' It For the Ladies
It's weird: the business of booze is filled with women. But somehow it's the men who like to write about it. Lady blogger Natalie Bovis-Nelson of the Liquid Muse points us to the usual suspects, but what about las chicas? I know there are more of us womanly drinkers and alcohol enthusiasts out there! Like Marleigh (?) over at Sloshed! and the three femmes anonymous working the stick (is that a triple entendre or menage a trois?) at Liquor and Libations. We also have Cocktail Jen, who is admirably working her way through Mr. Boston's, one drink at a time. I know there are more of you, so speak up!

It's Always Happy Hour Somewhere
In case you need some help finding cheap drinks, try Unthirsty. Or Happy-Hour.net (limited cities), or Urban Drinks (limited cities).

Individual city listings | Miami | Dallas | Washington DC | Seattle | NYC

If you have more to add, please by all means do!

Import Beers: Blurring the Lines Even More

2007-06-26T09:27:00.001-07:00

Imported beer is inevitably priced higher than domestic throughout both retail and on-premise outlets, thanks to that air of foreign exoticism that comes with overseas travel. But what if that import that you were shelling out an extra dollar or two for wasn't actually brewed overseas?

Beginning in November, Foster's (you know, it's Australian for beer) will be brewed by Miller's Texas and Georgia breweries. But do you think either customers or bartenders will realize that Foster's is no longer an import? Doubtful, especially because they don't seem to even realize that right now Foster's is brewed in...Canada. (And yes, I should qualify this: I'm talking about the Foster's beer sold in the U.S. market.)

Of course, this isn't a new dilemma for beer drinkers or their bartenders. The fact is, most folks don't realize where their beer comes from (or their food, or their clothes). But why does that even matter? Beer is beer, isn't it? Well, not really. If an establishment is going to charge more for an added value—in this case, some relative and intangible element of "foreignness"—they actually ought to deliver that added value, don't you think? Otherwise it's just false advertising.

Another reason why this matters, though not for the average drinker, is that sales numbers for the import segment may be skewed if beers that aren't brewed in foreign lands are counted anyway. It could be argued that this impacts how brewers large and small make marketing and operational decisions.

Then again, we are talking Foster's here.

Do you know where your import comes from?
A few beers that are not brewed in the country they're associated with:

Mackeson's XXX Stout —England: Brewed in Ohio (by Boston Beer Co.)
Kirin Lager—Japan: Brewed in Los Angeles (by Anheuser Busch)
Carlsberg—Denmark: Brewed in Canada (by Labbatt)
Killians Irish Red—Ireland: Brewed in Colorado (by Molson Coors)

Note: Many beer geeks insist that the U.S. drinks Guinness that's brewed in Canada but according to multiple sources (including Guinness' website), only Canadians drink Canadian-brewed Guinness. Supposedly, the U.S. market drinks Guinness imported directly from Dublin.

Another note: The beer origins listed above are for the versions sold to the U.S. market.

Squidoo This

2007-06-19T19:16:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure if this matters to any of you Bar Stories readers (Oh, but it should! It should!), but I've just created my very first lens on Squidoo. It's called Drinks, Drinkers and Drinking and it's about—I'll let you figure it out.

I am going to overhaul the content shortly, because I really didn't know what I was doing. I think I'll keep it narrowed down to drinks in pop culture so it has a little more focus (books, movies, music, etc).

If I see some results (i.e. If it seems to get any attention), then I'll probably build a few more lenses for the hell of it. Because, y'know, I need more projects on my plate.

Now, do any of you know what this del.icio.us thing is?! (Kidding—I just haven't gotten hip enough to use it.)

Happy Hour: The Good, the Bad and the Boozy

2007-06-14T14:25:00.000-07:00

This week has been insane for me, not least of which includes keeping up with some very interesting beer, booze and wine blogging.

The Good

Anheuser-Busch has opted to start using 100% organic hops in their organic beers (there is a lot of controversy over the USDA's potential decision to allow non-organic hops to be used in organic beers). Chris O'Brien, of the Beer Activist, has been covering this issue quite well. So, why is this good? Hopefully A-B will create the demand for additional organic hops, opening up the market for the smaller guys to get their hands on some, too.

The Bad

A couple has recently been jailed for chaperoning their 16 year old son's birthday party, where they served beer in limited quantities to attendees up to the age of 18. Jay Brooks has an eloquent analysis of the ruling.

The Boozy

Summer cocktail recipes at StarChefs
Limoncello recipe by Camper
Incredible fruity tropical cocktails at Cantina

Drink Trends: A New Semi-Regular Feature

2007-06-13T09:00:00.000-07:00

In my neverending quest to be a better blogger, I've been working on some new features for Bar Stories. As I mentioned on Friday, this includes recurring columns focusing on different drink-related subjects. Today I'm unveiling my drink trends column because, even though everyone claims to hate trends, everyone still wants to know about them.

Here are just a couple on my radar:

Flavor Trend: Pear
Last year's pomegranate explosion is now commonplace, and the new fruit of the day is pear. It's interesting to me, because I think of pear as a "grown-up" taste, somewhat gentle and not particularly sweet. I think this is indicative of a wider trend of consumers moving toward more sophisticated flavors. We're seeing it in almost every category, especially craft beer.

A bsolut Pears vodka
Grey Goose La Poire vodka
Clear Creek pear brandies
Scottish & Newcastle pear ciders (confirmed rumor)
Pheasant Valley Organic Pear wine

Non-alcoholic: Coke's Peartiser (UK only) | Nantucket Nectar's Pomegranate Pear
Press on pear: Honolulu Advertiser | Pear Bureau Northwest PDF | New York Magazine

Marketing Trend: 4-D Marketing
Also known as experiential marketing, 4-D marketing focuses on bringing the consumer into the marketing experience rather than just marketing to them. The internet certainly helps in this regard, as companies both inside the drinks industry and out leverage new technology to help spread their message. Examples include:

Samuel Adams' new beer glass: Specialty glassware isn't new among drinkers, but bringing it to the general public is. Sam Adams recently launched a specially designed beer glass intended to be used with their classic Boston Lager.

Brewing competitions: Several major breweries have been running nationwide (or regional) brewing competitions, in which consumers can submit their own homebrew recipes for a shot at having them mass-produced. Contests aren't traditionally very experiential, but when you get to create a beer and have it put on the market, it takes things to a whole new level. [Sam Adams' Longshot 2007 | Anheuser Busch's You Choose It, We'll Brew It '06]

Open Source Beer Project: Flying Dog has taken a totally unique approach to 4-D marketing by allowing consumers to help shape their next beer. Participants get to modify an actual Flying Dog recipe; we'll see what comes of hundreds of beer geeks fighting over flavors!

Interactive packaging: This one appeals to my designer sensibilities. In addition to the rise of alternative packaging like Tetrapacks and boxes, which aren't really experiential in and of themselves, some winemakers are going the extra mile. Rosenblum Cellars has started featuring a peel-off wine label that allows consumers to bring home information about the wine they enjoy (perfect for restaurants or dinner parties). Less experiential but equally flashy is Coors' new temperature label.

So there you have it, short and sweet. I don't know how often I'll run this particular column, but expect to see it at least once a quarter. Let me know if you dig it, and feel free to share any trends you seem to be noticing.

Happy Hour: A New Weekly Series

2007-06-08T11:21:00.000-07:00

Since beginning Bar Stories, I have deliberately refrained from using the standard blog crutches: lists, regurgutation of others' news stories, etc. I'm not entirely guiltless, of course, but I've tried to keep it genuinely useful. This stems from my distinct belief that meaning matters™. I'm not knocking the fun drink sites that post random "stuff," or new-fangled recipes, or researched histories of old-timey cocktails, or anything else, because I read all those regularly. But because there are so many good ones, I've tried to make Bar Stories something different, and I like to think I've largely succeeded.

So all that said, I've got some changes in store, not least of which is a serious redesign to make the blog more interesting to look at (I really have no excuse, since I make part of my living as a graphic designer). Part of the redesign starts today: Bar Stories will offer regular and semi-regular subject-specific "columns." The first of these is Happy Hour, which will simply be a way for me to babble briefly about random drinks stuff and start offering more link love to my fellow drinks writers out there. First up:

Make Mine a 007: Someone (self-dubbed the Minister of Martinis) has taken the time to compile detailed statistics on James Bond's drinks of choice. It includes all the films, and the novels. Having just watched George Lazenby knock back a shaken-not-stirred Martini, a malt whisky and branch water, a Dom Perignon '57 and a beer in On Her Majesty's Secret Service, I find it funny that the winning association with Bond is the Martini. [via Liquor and Drink]

Time Lapse Bartending: Here's a treat I thought would be boring until I watched the whole damn thing. Bartender Jimmy Patrick (Jimmy's Cocktail Hour) shares a video of a recent Tuesday shift, which was "not too busy, not too slow." Sped up as it is, it's easy to see good bartending in action. Note that he regularly checks in with each customer along the bar (spending more attention, presumably, on the solo drinkers while leaving the groups to chat amongst themselves), balances his service bar duties with his customer-facing ones, and generally uses his time to both chat with guests and get bar work done.

9,000 Martinis and Counting: Wowza. Robert Heugel over at Explore the Pour has compiled a list of branded Martini ingredients and then mathematically calculated the number of possible variations on the classic cocktail. Even he admits the list is not exhaustive, but smokes that's a lot of possibilities (not to mention anything approaching variations on measures)!

Pastoral Nostalgia or Blue Collar Chic? Enough of the Beer vs. Wine Debate!

2007-05-31T13:34:00.000-07:00

Wine and beer have traditionally garnered their own particular markets in the U.S., pitting drinkers into two camps: the wine and cheese crowd, the stereotype goes, sniff and spit and quaff, all while turning their noses up at the beer and burger set. You know, those red-necked working class nonthinkers who hang out at race tracks and frat houses.

This back-and-forth which is better, which is more authentic, which is worthier debate is hashed and rehashed all the time. Typically, wine drinkers demonstrate a misguided superiority complex, as in wine writer Natalie MacLean's recent anti-beer diatribe (scroll down to the 5/8 entry) in which she explains that "wine is bottled poetry; beer is a canned cliché." But sometimes it comes from the other side, too. Earlier this year, a Pittsburgh Tribune-Review columnist railed against the growing "pretensions and airs" surrounding craft beer. It would seem that the bulk of drinkers (beer, wine, or otherwise) are simplistic thinkers who would prefer to keep the camps separated by a nice, clean class line.

Yesterday Slate.com published an interesting take on this beer vs. wine debate, adding a new if equally misguided twist. The premise goes something like this: wine wins its appeal thanks to a "pastoral nostalgia" that ties it to long-forgotten memories of rolling hillsides and deeply embedded terroir, while beer remains a populist, industrially-produced concoction that is now too approachable for our growing culture of connoisseurs. On the surface, this is an ingenious way to frame the debate. But it, too, is guilty of placing wine on a pedestal while implying that beer is somehow an inferior product.

The reality is that wine and beer are more alike than anyone cares to admit:

1. Wine and beer are both ancient arts.
I constantly read histories of beer and wine claiming that each is the world's oldest beverage. Truth is, no one really knows. What we do know, thanks to scientific analysis, is that both beer and wine were accidentally developed in ancient Sumeria around 6,000-4,000 BC.

By that point, humans had pretty much settled in the area, allowing them to grow crops like—take a guess—grapes and grain. And as might be expected back in the day, food storage wasn't all it's now cracked up to be. The theory goes that good grapes sat around for too long, allowing the wild airborne yeasts (which are all around us still) to do their thing. The result was fermented grape juice, a.k.a. wine.

Beer was discovered similarly, this time when someone's unbaked bread dough sat around and started to ferment:

"There must have been deliberate attempts to replicate the probably inadvertent dough brew from bappir, because eventually all Sumerian brewers would coarsely grind wheat or barley, or both, then moisten the grain and shape it into flat loaves. After gently baking these loaves in mud-brick ovens into bappir, they would it crumble it into crocks of water. Left to their own devices, the containers of thin bread gruel would eventually be visited by yeast spores swept into the crocks on a breeze and the content would ferment into beer. Our Sumerian Stone Age forbears would then take a straw or a ladle and imbibe. We know so, because the Sumerians left us not only the oldest description of beer-making, but also the oldest graphic depiction of beer drinking. It comes from a seal found at Ur. It dates from around 3100 BC and shows two gentlemen using straws to drink beer out of a common crock." —Horst Dornbusch

2. Wine and beer are both, at their heart, agricultural products.
Wine advocates would do well to stop using Bud/Miller/Coors as the poster children for beer, pretending that the adjuncts and flavor-freezing technologies implemented by these macro breweries is the way quality beer is brewed. Imagine how these same folks would bristle if I were to use Fred Franzia's Bronco wines as the pinnacle of the wine industry! If you want to adequately compare beer and wine, you must use brands that exemplify the real spirit of the product.

With that in mind, let's actually look at what goes into the artisinal, or craft, versions of these beverages (these stats are based on limited research and may not be all-inclusive—feel free to point me to additional sources):

No. of grape varietals used in winemaking: 150*/230*
No. of yeast strains used in winemaking: 16**
No. of yeast strains used in beer brewing: 15*
No. hops varieties used in beer brewing: 54*
No. of barley varieties used in beer brewing: 32*

Just to clarify these numbers: the number of grape varietals only includes the commerically significant varietals, and not hybrids and genetically bred strains of other varieties. Same with the yeast numbers: when it comes to organic organisms like yeast, most strains are just minor permutations of a single species. And, of course, you'll notice that wheat etc. varieties are not listed for brewing. So, as the above numbers demonstrate, all kinds of natural-grown goodness goes into both products.

3. Wine and beer both rely on an industrial manufacturing process.
Lest you buy Slate.com's romantic notions of barrel-aged wine over industrial packaged beer, don't forget that much commercial wine spends as much time aging in steel tanks as it does in wooden barrels. All those well-oaked vintages wine advocates are so proud of? Many of them get that oak from chips, not actual barrels.

I share this dirty little wine secret only because it's absurd to think that the majority of wineries are still foot stomping their grapes and hand bottling their wines. There are, of course, artisinal craftspeople to be found in both industries. But let's not kid ourselves that wine is somehow less processed than beer. Ever heard of fining? Both brewers and vintners do it, among other things, which makes both equally "guilty" of industrialization.

4. Wine and beer both exhibit a vast array of flavors, textures and appearances.
Beer snobs are sometimes accused of "lifting" the language of wine. I'm not convinced, though, that this indicates a lack on beer's part. Language is, after all, finite; just because beer advocates have until recently been loathe to sound like wine snobs, doesn't render their use of typical wine descriptors inaccurate or inappropriate.

We have sensory chemist Ann Noble and her Aroma Wheel to thank for some of the unusual terms that spill from the lips of wine snobs: a hint of horse blanket on the nose, or a touch of bell pepper and cut grass. These scents are due to the hundreds of organic compounds and esters found in wine. According to the Aroma Wheel, there are approximately 135 different aromas commonly identified in wine (keep in mind that smell accounts for about 75% of what we taste).

How does this compare to beer? If you think "grainy" is as descriptive as you can get when describing beer, think again. Noble's counterpart in the world of beer is a scientist named Meilgaard, who developed the Beer Flavor Wheel back in 1979. Meilgaard managed to identify 122 common flavors that a practiced taster can recognize, but all his hard work has been dashed by the Big Macros who insist on chilling all that good flavor out of the pint. No wonder wine drinkers think beer tastes dull and bland.

Can't We All Just Get Along?
If wine and beer are so alike, then why all the controversy among writers and critics? Clearly, the idea that these two alcoholic beverages share such common terrain just doesn't make for a good story. It doesn't sell newspapers, it doesn't build repuations, and it certainly doesn't help differentiate the products to drive sales. Truth is, the public likes a little antagonism to fuel our passions, because otherwise we'd have to start paying attention to nuance and complexity (and maybe even think for ourselves once in a while).

Yet there seems to be change afoot in the marketplace. Whereas typically wine drinkers were once clustered on the coasts feeding the "sophisticates only" vibe, we're now seeing the love for grape move inland and across lifestyle boundaries. Wine sales among NASCAR fans, for example, is up 22% over last year, thanks in part to the likes of drivers Jeff Gordon and Richard Childress. But NASCAR viewers aren't the only sports fans getting into wine: my beloved Boston Red Sox are launching a line of charity wines featuring Manny, Schill and Wake. Thinking about this crossover, I can't help picturing John Belushi in the Blues Brothers, flipping shrimp into Dan Akroyd's mouth in the fancy Chez Paul restaurant, finally leaning over to the table next to him to ask, "How much for your weemen?"

But just as wine pours its way into the hearts of those living in the heartland so, too, is beer finding its way onto fine dining menus everywhere. Craft beer poster boy Garrett Oliver, head brewer of the fantastic Brooklyn Brewery, is perhaps single-handedly responsible for the growing acceptance of beer among upscale chefs. His book, The Brewmaster's Table, is cited as a primary influence by beer sommeliers from coast to coast.

So perhaps there is hope after all. I'd like to think the sales numbers are indicative of a larger trend, one that includes the opening of minds and the broadening of palates. Maybe consumers are starting to realize that limiting what they imbibe only results in their missing out on a nice drink. Hell, maybe it even means they're willing to learn a thing or two about a thing or two. I just wish beer and wine writers would stop hindering them by spouting the typical party line. Is it really too much to ask?

My Goodness, I'm Guinness!

2007-05-26T16:40:00.000-07:00

And now for something completely useless: the What Kind of Beer Are You? quiz...

(100% dark & bitter, 66% working class, 100% genuine)

Okay, we all know Guinness is the best possible score on any "What Kind Of Beer Are You" test, so you can just go on and pat yourself on the back now. Like the world's most famous brew, you're genuine, you've got good taste, and you're sophisticated. What else can I say, except congratulations?

If your friends didn't score the same way, get ready for them to say: Guinness is too heavy; it's an acquired taste; it's too serious--and they probably think those things about you at times. But just brush 'em off. Everybody knows Guinness is the best. Cheers.

Somehow I find the results comforting. Take the test yourself here.

[Via Jay Brooks]

Pontificating Over Potables for $200, Alex

2007-05-23T17:37:00.000-07:00

Which came first: the chicken or the egg? Let's argue about this for a very long time, in occasionally shrill voices, and then let's argue some more. You think I'm ridiculous, don't you? But I recall customer after customer pulling up a stool at my bar and beginning a conversation just like this that could simply not be settled (it doesn't matter what it was about any more than it mattered then). My job, of course, was to humor them and give them just enough argument to allow them to continue to argue back.

Thank god I don't have to do that anymore. Of course, now there are conversations with other bartenders or sales reps or journalists who do the same damn thing. The subject is usually wine or beer and how it is made and why it tastes the way it does. These are very worthwhile things to discuss, and there is plenty to go back and forth about. But what bugs me is the eventual yet inevitable statement of fact that is, in actuality, complete and utter bullshit.

I'm not the only who feels this way, apparently. There are others like me, who simply want a little common sense and a hefty dose of "relax, drink up and enjoy" mixed in with their chosen adult beverage. Thomas Pellechia is one of those (and lord knows, he's had to put up with far more of these based-in-pseudo-reality conversations than I have). In a recent blog post on terroir, he discusses the tendency of terroirists to insist that soil (and even climate) are directly responsible for much of what we taste in wine. This is, of course, not utter bullshit but it certainly isn't completely accurate. (If you're interested in a brief intro to terroir along with my own opinion on it, you won't get it here. You can, however, ask and I'll likely oblige.) Suffice it to say that Mr. Pellechia sums it all up nicely when he asks, "Are we talking semantics here?"

Yeah, boss.

And there are more of us out there, even! I had a really nice conversation with Sean Ludford of Beverage Experts a few weeks ago, in which we discussed the trade's tendency to pontificate a bit too much. As someone who works in communications for a living, I recognize the need to educate consumers in order to boost sales. But traditionally, the wine trade has done so by imparting an aura of high-falutin' gravitas that doesn't really suit Joe or Jane Consumer (no matter how much s/he wants to play along). The cocktail world is no better. Now, I'm not about to claim that the likes of Dale DeGroff and Gary Regan somehow do spirits a disservice (quite the opposite), but I do have to ever-so-slightly roll my eyes at myself when I fire up the newest episode of Robert Hess' "The Cocktail Spirit." Which isn't to say I don't watch the whole damn thing (it's really quite practical, if devoid of much humor).

The point is simply that us writers have the tendency to overthink when we drink (and write). Sean's goal with BevX is to provide some of that drinks education in a format that's less who has the most definitive collection of out-of-print bartender manuals? and more what's the damn drink taste like? Both have their place of course. In fact, drinking while reading is highly encouraged. Ultimately, though, unending conversations about terroir and who invented which cocktail are a means to an end—a sometimes inebriated end, but an end nonetheless.

This one's for the feed subscribers...

2007-05-22T11:33:00.000-07:00

[This poll has been moved to the sidebar: to vote please visit Bar Stories online!]

Brew Your Own Birthday

2007-05-14T19:13:00.000-07:00

There are many reasons why I love living with The Captain: he came with a crazy black cat, he's got a much better jazz record collection than I do, and he knows how to wield a pot and pan. But he outdid himself this weekend when he took me camping and made me a frigging birthday cake in the middle of the woods.

But what does this have to do with drinking? you might ask. It doesn't; I'm just bragging about The Captain. But the rest of my gift does: a brew-it-yourself day at Devil's Canyon Brewery. We've been wanting to homebrew for a while now, and I figure this is a great way to get my feet (and hands) wet. We'll get to take advantage of pro equipment and, even better, an actual pro!

We're still debating what style to start with—leaning towards pale ale for a first run (nice 'n' safe) but I'm open to suggestions. And in honor of this treat (next month, by the by), here are a few homebrew links for your (and my) edification:

The Brewing Knowledge Base
Brew Support Forum
Seven Bridges organic homebrew supplies (hell yes!)
The American Homebrewers Association
Fermenting Revolution (Make Beer. Drink Beer. Save World. Sign me up!)

If any of y'all have any tips for me, suggestions, questions, and so forth, lemme know.

Pride and Prejudice, or Am I Ever Gonna Get a Flippin' Drink?

2007-05-10T09:57:00.000-07:00

Oddly enough, bartenders tend to be pack animals, hanging together in droves either before, after and, often, during a shift. And like other pack animals, they are particularly wary of those outside the pack. I am frequently reminded of this whenever I sit at a bar tended by total stranger. I immediately size them up, playing a mental guessing game: How long will I wait for my drink? If I order X, how will it arrive? How long have they been doing this?

These are judgmental questions, of course. Bartending requires one to constantly size up people and situations (what you do with that information reflects on both your character and skill as a bartender). I can't pretend that bartending "did this to me;" rather, I suspect this particular trait of mine was simply made good use of behind the bar.

Apparently, I am not alone. Perhaps it's a case of cruel irony, or simply penance for my years of judgment of others, but now I am acutely aware of other bartenders' turning a critical eye to me. Their mental notes are slightly different then mine these days, however. The questiosn they ask themselves I also used to consider: I've never seen her before; she's not a regular. Is she going to order a friggin' appletini? Is she a decent tipper?

In the best places, I end up with stellar service and carefully prepared drinks regardless of how the barkeep may answer these questions (and, I might add, regardless of whether I am in jeans or dress, with a group or on my own, and so on). But San Francisco is a hip little town, with a large pack of "too cool for school" bartenders. Since I have never roamed with this group, I am treated as an interloper. (It should be noted, too, that often those who might look too cool for school—there go those judgments flying again—are often the friendliest and most professional of the bunch.) My interloper status gets me slower service, sometimes higher prices, and never the time of day. Now, is this such a big deal? Nope. I have plenty of bars to choose from, and a thick skin to boot. But I spent too long in this business to simply stop caring (aren't I a doll?).

The net result of these judgments and inappropriate reactions to them is far more than my own bruised ego. It is an immeasurable one, and it should worry every bar owner everywhere. Because bartenders almost always reflect the attitudes of their owners, which means I know who cares enough about their clientele to staff their bar with professionals (as opposed to those who allow their prejudices to get in the way of their craft). More importantly, it should worry bar owners because a guest who feels ever so slightly wronged doesn't give a hang what the bar's policy is if they still can't get a decent drink, and on time. Guess who gets my regular business and who gets my eternal disdain?

Moral of the story? I'll let you figure it out.

My First Look at The Second Glass

2007-05-02T19:42:00.000-07:00

Just as I started losing sleep over the demise of Wine X, the magazine that got more buzz at its folding than while it was still in print, I fell face first into The Second Glass. I'm not quite sure how to encapsulate this infant effort except to say that I'd really like to see this magazine succeed. Based in my hometown of Boston (yee-haw) and run by what looks to be a group of sweet, dorky-chic youngsters (at 31, I can't possibly be older than all of them, can I?), they aim to "demystify wine and help everyone from the occasional drinker to the everyday buyer further explore the world of wine." Great! We need one of those.

Since they've only got distribution in Boston yet, I've just got their online version to go by. Based on what I've seen thus far, it's a little hard to find the excitement and—dare I use the word passion—that I can sense lies beneath the surface. These are kids who clearly like to drink and like to drink wine; I can't argue with that. But I can't help feeling that they may be falling into the typical trap of trying to be too goofy and too irreverent, to the point of...missing the point. Their recent recommendation of two-buck Chuck is an easy example, but so is their "Meet Dr. Wino, PhD: Tales of a New Superhero" column. Perhaps I really am out of touch with those a few years younger than myself, but who is this really supposed to appeal to?

I do think The Second Glass has something to offer its particular audience: the tone is irreverent without being whiny, the staff clearly cares about its subject matter, and resident columnist and bartender Jessie Pray offers some great insight into upscale bartending (hmmm, a bartender named Jessie? I swear I'm not biased...). That said, the magazine has a learning curve to overcome. Writing on the site is a little too loose (read: unedited) for my taste, and this really reflects on the content. If you're going to be wacky and flaunt traditional rules, you need to be tight and know exactly what you're doing. Or maybe not. I am over 30 after all—I clearly can't be trusted.

[via Winefoolery]

Mixing to My Mood: Dark 'n' Stormy

2007-04-24T17:17:00.000-07:00

As the sun finally makes an appearance after some good ol' San Francisco rain, I thought it would only be fitting to share my recent obsession as a mea culpa for not posting over the last two weeks. The Dark 'n' Stormy is typically made as any highball is: base spirit and ginger (or soda) over ice in a highball glass. But the Dark 'n' Stormy is not a typical highball. The beauty of this brooding drink lies in the snap and buck of real ginger beer:

Dark 'n' Stormy
• Fill a highball glass with ice
• Add 2 oz. Goslings Black Seal Rum
• Ginger beer to fill
• Garnish with lime wedge

There are two features that make this drink an actual Dark 'n' Stormy: Goslings dark rum (they own the recipe trademark) and real honest-to-god ginger beer. The original recipe calls for Barritts, some claim Reed's makes the best version. Me, I like the depth and richness of Bundaberg. The Captain (aptly named, huh?) made his own substitution that was right up my alley, and this is what we've been sipping all week:

Jerry Strop
• Fill a highball glass with ice
• Add 2 oz. Sailor Jerry Spiced Navy Rum
• Fill with Bundaberg or other whopping ginger beer
• Garnish with a lime

I'm not set on the name, of course, but I like the fact that a Jack strop was once used to describe a sailor who was good company in the public house but lousy at his work. Enough of these and you'll be the same.

Wine That Loves to Pigeonhole Consumers

2007-04-10T11:17:00.000-07:00

On the heels of the critter craze comes an even more absurd trend: wine that focuses on the food it pairs best with, as opposed to the varietal of the grape or region it comes from. Wine That Loves is a line by The Amazing Food Wine Company, who claims that they "design wines using the right pairing rules..."

And whose rules would those be? I thought we'd gotten past the notion that there are hard and fast rules for pairing wines with food. I thought we'd discovered that people have individual tastes and preferences, as well as incredibly subjective reactions to different foods, wines and combinations thereof. But apparently the Amazing Food Wine Company knows what you'd like, knows how your tastebuds work, and knows just exactly what to serve with the food you've prepared. Oh boy...

The problem with this approach is twofold:

Everyone's tastebuds are different. This means that you might hate astringent tannins in your wine, but I might love them. So when they claim that "Pizza crust can create a dry mouth feel, so the right wine needs to be low in tannin. A medium-tannin wine will worsen the dryness and a high-tannin one will produce an unpleasant astringent taste," they are assuming I don't want a tannic experience. Oops, wrong assumption, kids.

They have no idea how I like to cook. If my pizza has caramelized onions on it, or no tomato sauce, that's going to dramatically affect how the wine interacts with the dish. The real rule of wine pairing, which Wine That Loves completely ignores, is that there is no one-size fits-all approach. To offer one does a disservice to the dish, the wine, and the diner.

Cultural analyst Malcolm Gladwell loves to talk about a man named Howard Moskowitz. Moskowitz is responsible for the discovery that consumer preferences come in all shapes and sizes. He gave us tomato sauce that comes in...get this...multiple varieties. In the early '80s, "Cooking, on the industrial level, was consumed with the search for human universals." This was wrong, and caused a flatline in sales for various food products. Luckily for consumers and marketers alike, "Once you start looking for the sources of human variability...the old orthodoxy goes out the window." And you end up with choices that suit your own particular flavor preferences. Wine That Loves has eschewed all of this lovely research and reminded us once again that there is really only one ideal choice for any given food-wine combo, and they've got it. Sorry, but I just don't buy that.

It's also interesting to note that the Wine That Loves line currently includes five offerings—Wine That Loves Roasted Chicken, Pasta with Tomato Sauce, Pizza, Grilled Steak, and Salmon (their only white). Three of these currently have descriptions on their website, and they are all the same: medium intensity, low-medium acidity and low tannin level red wines. So not only is there only one choice for any given combo, but it happens to be the same for every combo. How on earth did this idea get off the ground?

Now, I will admit: I have yet to try any of these wines. They may be very good wines. But I won't know what I'm buying, because they won't tell me what's in them! Talk about dumbing down your product and underestimating your customer. Just because the under-$15 segment is on the rise doesn't mean that those purchasing value wines do so because they don't know any better. And if you are going to spoon feed us our wine, so to speak, at least do it based on sound reasoning.

Could the Chicago Bartender Beating Have Been Prevented?

2007-04-05T12:01:00.000-07:00

Bartending is often thought of as nothing but glamour and fun; slinging drinks all night, socializing with friends, earning huge tips and generally calling the shots. But there is a component that is often overlooked, one that goes beyond simply babysitting drunks: the safety issue.

Last month a Chicago bartender—female, 115 pounds, just doing her job—had to cut off one of her patrons. The 250 lb. Chicago police officer she refused to serve took issue with her professional decision and, after an initial scuffle with another patron, proceeded to viciously beat the bartender with fists and feet. The woman walked away fairly unharmed and the cop, who was initially charged with a misdemeanor, is now facing more serious charges.

Aside from the dirty politics that may have been at play following the beating, the incident raises an issue that just isn't discussed enough among anyone, be they patrons, bartenders or bar owners. The absolute most important role of a bartender is providing a safe environment for both employees and patrons. This role can be harrowing, as bartenders frequently work solo shifts with no formal safety training and are by definition interacting with potentially intoxicated clientele.

I bartended solo shifts for years without incident, relying only on tales from fellow bartenders about purse snatchers and neighborhood thugs randomly terrorizing my corner dive (located in not-the-nicest-neighborhood). We kept a baseball bat behind the bar, which was pulled out on a couple of occasions mostly as a joke. I think I'd be better off swinging my fists than a bat, though; I'm not the best ball player but I am small and scrappy.

I do recall regularly turning over the various options open to me should anything ever happen—what would I grab (a pint glass coming down on the nose, I've heard, works wonders)? Where would I go (it's amazing how much bar you can clear when it matters, but the nearest open business was blocks away)? These are things you think about when you're a female bartender standing 5'3" and your bar is completely empty at midnight.

But all your careful planning tends to melt away into an entirely different reality when you're actually faced with potential violence. When two bikers—members of the same bike club (I suppose I could call them a gang, but they were so darn sweet when they behaved)—got into a yelling match one night after a club meeting, I stopped what I was doing and stepped from behind the bar, hoping just seeing me would remind them of where they were. No such luck.

They went from shouting to shoving, and it only took me a second to recognize that the next step was throwing punches (and given their proximity to the pool table I didn't want to wait until cue sticks started swinging). The only problem was that they were both twice my size. So I did what any self-respecting female bartender with half a brain would have done: I stepped directly between them.

Perhaps it was the sight of lil' ol' me putting my hands on each of them as I looked way up at the aggressor of the two, but I suspect the real reason they immediately calmed down was that my instinct had been correct: these two regulars were not psycho, were not blind drunk, and were not inherently violent people. But what if my instinct had been wrong?

I had a handful of other situations over the years when I had to physically get involved in an altercation or physically throw someone out of my bar, each of which involved men larger than myself. And each time I approached the situation differently (my favorite experience was when I actually grabbed a pool cue one night when a 6'2" and scrawny punk-ass sexual harrasser refused my order to leave). And each time, I wondered if I could have approached the situation differently.

My point is not to say that bartenders need to arm themselves with baseball bats and pool cues. In fact, a little prevention goes a long way. If you wait until someone is blind drunk before you cut them off, you've done them a disservice, and yourself and the other patrons a disservice. A bartender's first job is creating a safe haven—literally and figuratively. You do this by knowing your own limits as well as those of your customers. You do it by planning ahead and you do it by paying close attention to your surroundings.

I don't know if anything can prevent a drunk Chicago cop from going on a violent rampage. But the very fact that bartenders come in just behind police officers, taxi drivers and prison guards when it comes to violent attacks in the workplace should be a sobering statistic.* There are things that can be done to minimize risk but how many bar owners and bartenders actually do these things on a regular basis?

Bar owners should:

Establish relationships with local police departments and encourage police presence in the neighborhood
Provide bartenders with formal safety and alcohol service training
Equip bars with multiple points of egress and security equipment
Provide barbacks, bouncers and other service staff to support bartenders
Check in with bartenders regularly, and encourage full and open communication about any incidents, no matter how minor they seem

Bartenders should:

Keep their eyes and ears open (always know who is doing what in your bar)
Establish a presence throughout the entire location (vocally and physically—walk the bar, make eye contact and conversation with everybody)
Be quick to minimize potential incidents (if a patron is being inappropriate, they need to be called on it immediately)
Understand how to identify and approach different situations and personalities
Avoid being in an empty bar (I would often buy a drink for a patron if they were the only body in the room just to keep them in their seat until the place filled up a little)

These details may seem obvious but I've witnessed seasoned bartenders who just don't seem to have control over their bar. In a business that already suffers from the stigma that comes with alcohol and intoxication, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at this; people don't want to admit that there is a dangerous side to the profession. But if more professionals would be realistic about their role and the potential hazards, we might see less of that down side.

Further reading:
The Say It's a Dream Job, But... post about my bartender friend who got held up
ServSafe training program
TiPS training program

Everyone's An Expert

2007-04-01T11:53:00.000-07:00

There's a backlash going on in the world of journalism these days, as more and more amateurs join the ranks of experts by virtue of an internet connection and an opinion. And, perhaps because of its accessibility and familiarity, food and beverage seems to be hit particularly hard. A recent article in the San Francisco Chronicle skewered bloggers for their armchair commentary on local restaurants, demonstrating how negative blogging can quickly smother a hard-working restauranteur's baby.

The article echoes the broader questions raised by News War, a recent Frontline series on the changing nature of the press in America, and I think they're questions that every one of us beverage writers needs to address (if not in public, than at least in the privacy of our own local watering hole), if we're to maintain any credibility at all.

The questions are simple: What is journalism? Should it be qualified by citizen- or blogger- or professional-? and What is the value of these different types of journalism? The answers get very foggy when talking about the world of drinks (and any non-hard news), because it just doesn't matter as much, does it?

But of course, for the sake of all our jobs, it does matter to some degree. The constant of journalism has always been credibility: the credibility of the publication as a whole, the credibility of the individual writer, the credibility of their sources. But credibility is up for grabs on the web, where anyone can hide behind a keyboard. This was made glaringly apparent in a recent Beer Advocate thread, where an online reviewer had posted the private email he received from a brewer after writing a particularly critical review. Brandonc, a homebrewer himself, ended his review of Watch City Brewing with "I hope this place closes down soon and stops giving brew pubs a bad reputation. Then they can sell their brewing equipment to someone who knows what they are doing."

This particular review and the resulting thread highlights one of the most common arguments for professional journalism: professional journalists both understand and adhere to a specific code of ethics when reporting that builds credibility for the profession as a whole. This includes such ditties as "If a place with a generally decent reputation really sucked, you might either try it again later, or find out if something specific was going on." This tenet of journalism—cover the whole story, not just your own knee-jerk reaction—seems to generally be lost on most food and beverage bloggers.

And I do say most. Not all, but certainly most. And herein lies the crux of the matter. Because in fact, the counterpart is also true: most journalists seem to have lost their ethical cheat sheet as well. So where does that leave us beverage writers, those of us who do this for a living and those who do it for fun? Do we owe a certain level of credibility to our readers? Are there different standards for different types of writers? Or should we feel just fine throwing our words around as we see fit, letting the drops fall where they may? I see some of us include biographies by way of explanation, some offer sarcastic justifications, and still others provide their own code of ethics. Is this the best we can hope for? Should hope for?

Like I said, the questions are obvious, the answers less so. I want to agree with the SF Bay Guardian's Tim Redmond when he argues that "the typical blogger, who comments on other news reports and does some citizen journalism while holding down a day job or going to school, isn't going to fill the role of full-time reporters. It's not that the bloggers aren't smart or good writers or, frankly, better reporters than a lot of the pros out there. It's just that this job can't be a part-time gig." [SFBG, 3/28/07]

But Redmond boils it down to resources (specifically, time devoted to reporting), which is too simplistic an approach. Again, it begs the same question being asked all along: What the hell is an expert? Do you have to be paid for your opinions to be considered an expert? Do you have to be doing it full time? Must you have undergone formal training? Or do you merely need to have worked in the biz to earn your cred? Maybe I am mingling the concepts of "expert" and "reporter" and "writer" too much but, ultimately, they all overlap and the resulting blur is what we're now all arguing about.

So what's your take? As a consumer, what do you expect from your information sources? Who do you trust and why? If you're a writer, how do you maintain credibility in your audience's eyes? And, of course, how should these various terms be defined, if at all?

Further reading:
Lew Bryson's take on beer criticism.
Appellation Beer's conversation on beer writing ethics.
A Good Beer Blog's conversation on the subject of professional vs. non-professional drink writing.
SFBG article on the value of content, by David Lazarus.
Association of Food Journalists' Code of Ethics and Food Critics' Guidelines.
Journalism Ethics for the Global Citizen.
Fairness and Accuracy In Reporting.
Pointer Online's section on ethics.
Jay Brooks' stance on beer blogging.

10 More Signs You're a Bad Bartender

2007-03-29T19:17:00.000-07:00

While I try not to ride coattails too much around here, Darcy over at the Art of Drink recently posted a brilliant list of 50 signs you are a bad bartender. One of my worst character traits is that I'm hypercritical when out drinking (although I'm sure some could name other traits of mine that are far worse), but I'll tell ya: this list rings frighteningly true. I could probably keep adding to Darcy's list until I'm blue in the face, but I'll leave it at an additional ten:

51. You serve your friends first, no matter how long other customers have been waiting.

52. When you're in the weeds you never look up.

53. You fail to survey the entire room on a regular basis.

54. You let the drunk creep at the end of the bar harrass the woman sitting by herself trying to read her book.

55. When your beer pours foamy you just let it run from the tap, instead of checking your lines or gas.

56. You don't know how to check your lines or gas.

57. You don't cut enough fruit for the night shift (if you're an opener).

58. You leave your dirty shift-off dishes in the sink for the opening bartender (if you're a closer).

59. You fail to ring out and/or re-bleach your bar rags regularly.

60. You can't be bothered to wash the soap/sanitizer/lipstick all the way off your glasses.

I need your input...

2007-03-28T14:53:00.001-07:00

Would you kindly take a second to let me know who you are by taking this oh-so-quick poll? (For all you rss subscribers, I implore you to visit Bar Stories to click just one button...okay, two.) Responses are anynomous, unless you want to leave a comment here.

Thanks!

Repent, Ye Sinners of Saint Patrick

2007-03-17T09:29:00.000-07:00

Or, 7 Easy Tips to Avoid Amateur Hour

There is a simple reason I always hated working the St. Patrick's Day shift at my bar: the place would slowly fill up with kids whose mission that night was to get as drunk as possible in as short a time as possible, move on to the next bar, rinse, lather and repeat. Is that you? If you're not careful, simply venturing out of your house today might cast you in that light.

So in the spirit of brotherly bartender love, I give you five commandments to save you from the fiery flames of the St. Patrick's Day drinking debacle. Heed fast, my children, lest you wake up in a pool of Guinness and vomit.

Take proper care of your bartender by tipping well.
Advantage: The possibility—although unlikely—of avoiding a four-deep wait at the bar.
The first and most important rule of St. Patrick's Day drinking is to take that lil' pot o' gold you've been hoarding since payday and share it with the only leprechaun who can make your dream come true: your barkeep. Bartenders put up with a lot on nights like this—pukers, screamers, assholes, underage drinkers, sloppy drunks, horny Irishmen, stupid jokes, the indignity of mixing disgusting drinks with offensively bad names. Show them you're different. Tip the hell out of them.
If you're hosting the party, take proper care of your guests.
Advantage: You'll earn a reputation as that guy who throws bitchin' parties.
Let's start with the music—folks can only listen to the Chieftains for so long before they need to rock out to the Pogues. But if you don't know who Shane MacGowan is, then you should probably just opt for the Dropkick Murphys, you lil' whippersnapper. Then there's the food—corned beef and cabbage it if you must, but remember: Ireland isn't known for its gourmet kibble. And of course, there's the drinks. Do not—I repeat, do not—stiff your guests. Check out the Kegulator for help determining just how much beer to buy for your St. Patrick's Day party.
Do not order green beer.
Advantage: You won't have to drink green beer.
Beer doesn't come in green. Drinking beer that does makes you blend in with the crowd of drunken amateurs around you.
Do not order an Irish Car Bomb.
Advantage: You won't look like the world's biggest dickhead.
When I was bartending, I refused to serve these nasty little depth charges (mostly because our 4-oz shot glasses wouldn't fit into our pints, thank god). Ordering one of these drinks labels you either a college student who just turned 21, a drunken asshole, or both.
Do not turn to the girl or guy next to you and slur "Kiss me, I'm Irish."
Advantage: You'll be less likely to wake up with crabs.
One of the worst things about St. Patrick's Day is the mess that ensues once the cavalcade of amateurs has knocked back a few Guinness and several shots of Bushmills. I can't guarantee that you won't go home with the strange drunk next to you if you avoid this cliché, but you'll certainly reduce your chances. Isn't it worth it?
Plan your drinking accordingly.
Advantage: You get to enjoy St. Patrick's Day on your own terms.
The easiest way to avoid the amateurs is to start drinking during happy hour. Knock off as the idiots start to come out and you'll have made the day shift bartender happy, gotten a nice little buzz on, and made it home just in time to avoid the press of green-clad revelers.
Get creative with your cocktails.
Advantage: Distinguish yourself from the masses.
Noone says that you have to drink Guinness and whiskey all night. Try Stephen Beaumont's list of stout cocktails, or consider something from the Cocktail Chronicles.

If you have some do's and don'ts you'd like to share, feel free to leave us a comment. It can only benefit the good of mankind.

[And yes, that's the shirt I wore on my St. Patty's Day shifts.]

Does Designer Ice Make a Cooler Cocktail?

2007-03-15T10:45:00.000-07:00

Here's a tip for your next trip to your favorite watering hole: find the ice machine. The state of a bar's ice machine speaks volumes about the establishment's overall attitude toward the customer experience and, sadly, most bars fall frighteningly short. I remember a particular ice machine at a local bar that was crammed in the corner of a perpetually too-hot storage closet. The cooling vents looked like my dryer's lint collector and sheets of ice would fall into the bin speckled with black dots. I stuck to pints (at least the beer lines were cleaned regularly).

But times, they are a-changin'. Upscale joints are now paying closer attention to their ice, ice, baby, (had to be done—just be glad it wasn't this post's headline), according to an article in last month's L.A. Times. Triple-filtered, custom-cubed, hand-chunked ice is becoming all the rage in places from the Windy City to all the way across the pond in London. But come on, just how important is ice to a cocktail? As long as I can taste the booze, does it really matter where my ice comes from or what it looks like?

You're damn straight, it does. Ice impacts a cocktail in a number of ways:

It chills the drink.
Cocktails are meant to be served cold. This can be achieved either by stirring the cocktail directly in a glass with ice cubes, blending it with crushed ice, or shaking it with ice and straining it (into an empty glass or a glass filled with new ice).

It lends a cocktail proportionality.
What the hell does this mean? It means the next time you ask me for less ice in your drink, I'm going to laugh at you. A cocktail generally contains 1.5-2 oz. of booze. If the balance of the glass is filled with mixers, you'll get a mixer-heavy cocktail that tastes like poo. Patrons who feel ice is the enemy in their cocktail should probably stick to hanging out at frat-friendly bars filled with white caps.

It enhances flavor.
Believe it or not, a little dilution is a good thing. As ice melts, it helps open up the alcohol and marry the flavors in the drink. This is why whisky is often drunk with a splash of water.

So does this justify paying the inevitable added costs of a cocktail mixed with frozen brand name bottled water that's been hand-cut on the bar? Not for me, it doesn't. But hell, I also have no interest in drinking my cocktail from a glass made of ice, nor do I care if my ice cube is a single, perfectly round orb. What does matter to me is how my ice is handled. I cringe when I see bartenders scoop up a glassfull of ice with the glass itself.* Because while I don't expect you to pull out an ice pick when making my drink, I don't appreciate lazy bartending. Hmmm...maybe there is something to be said for bartenders who care enough to use the very best.

*Scooping ice with a glass is surefire way to chip the glass, leaving dangerous and impossible-to-find glass shards in your ice sink.

Some Folks Get It

2007-03-09T11:18:00.000-08:00

"You have asked me how I feel about whiskey…if, when you say whiskey, you mean the oil of conversation, the philosophic wine, the stuff that is consumed when good fellows get together, that puts a song in their hearts and laughter on their lips and a warm glow of contentment in their eyes; if you mean Christmas cheer; if you mean the stimulating drink that puts the spring in the old gentleman's step on a frosty morning, if you mean the drink that enables a man to magnify his joy, and his happiness and to forget, if only for a little while, life's great tragedies and heartbreaks and sorrows, if you mean that drink…then certainly I am in favor of it."

—Noah S. "Soggy" Sweat, Jr., to the Mississippi House, April 4, 1952

[Shamelessy pilfered from dack.com]

The Session 1: Wolaver's Oatmeal Stout

2007-03-02T17:15:00.000-08:00

This here is the inaugural Beer Blogging Friday, and our theme today is Not Your Father's Irish Stout. Lots of beer bloggers are doing reviews, and that's great (here's a list of links to explore—just scroll to the comments). I'm not.

In fact, I'm cheating a little (because I've had a particularly hard one, and it's Friday, and I don't do much by the rules). Wolaver's Oatmeal Stout weighs in at 5.9% ABV, which is a hair more than your typical session that generally hovers around 5% or less. A few of these on an empty stomach and I'll be singing shanty songs (although I may do that dry if you catch me in the right mood). So what of it? Why take on Wolaver's? It's not just the name—a name that conjurs up bearded men in layers of canvas and flannel working a thresher or combine or some sort of other giant machine that spits grain down your throat as you struggle to control it. Furrows and topsoil and the like. What, farming's not your thing? Alright, I give.

Actually, my plan was to whip up some ice cream with this beast, but I'm on the West Coast. This means that after knocking off work, whipping up the custard, letting it cool and then churning it by hand (I lie), it would end up about midnight before I got around to writing about the damn experience. You'll get that post in the near future.

Instead, I'm just going to ramble; I hope you don't mind (feel free to browse the link lists to the right if you do). Since today's theme is Not Your Father's Irish Stout, the very first thing I though of was my pop. His stout of choice is, if I recall correctly, Guinness. I have very clear memories of him grabbing a salt shaker and sending a few good flicks into that notoriously thick head (how appropriate, I have to think, as my pop has the world's wildest mop of hair). A lot of beer geeks turn their noses up at Guinness, but a properly poured pint is really quite delicious.

But this Wolaver's is a different animal. It's got that thinner body that I love about these dark beers—I can get real flavor without feeling like I need to stick a pin in my belly to let the air out. Flavor! We're talking coffee, of course (yes, I'm drinking beer); sweeter roasted coffee, almost a toffee flavor. And chocolate. Didn't know there was chocolate in beer? In this case it's chocolate malts that do it—oddly, it's an unsweetened, slightly bitter taste (bitter is usually associated with hops). But that's stout's strength—a smooth contradiction of dark but not heavy and sweetly smooth but slightly bitter.

Now, lest you're curious: oatmeal stout is, indeed, brewed with oatmeal (that's the smoothness) [edit: um, that would be oats not oatmeal!] and Wolaver's' oatmeal happens to be organic. This means I can crack open a pint of this stuff knowing that there's no synthetic pesticides or fertilizers and no genetically engineered grains coursing through my veins as I drink. Me, I like that.

This one's also brewed in Vermont, hence my initial ravings about farmboys and threshers. Ma and Pa Wolaver still own the joint—in fact, they purchased Otter Creek Brewing some years ago and kept everybody on to help with the beer. What they've come up with for an oatmeal stout may not be definitive, but it sure is good drinking. And it's good to know that organic beers can more than hold their own with conventional ones.

The bottom of my pint is nigh, and my stomach's growling for some real food now. Next session I promise to actually make it a session, but that's it for this round. Keep an eye on Stan Hieronymus' Appellation Beer for next month's installment.

Do the Oscars Mark a New Trend?

2007-02-26T09:15:00.000-08:00

My interest was piqued this morning when I went looking for the Oscars winner's list and came across this tidbit at SF Gate instead:

Oscar goes green
There's a push for green products and practices at this year's Academy Awards, and gift bags will be bursting with eco-friendly products. And even though rehab is becoming de rigueur for celebrities, several Oscar events will feature Mothership Wit, an organic beer by New Belgium Brewing of Fort Collins, CO (the maker of Fat Tire Amber Ale ), which boasts that it is the country's first fully wind-powered brewery. Finally, a beer we can feel virtuous drinking. -- Karola Saekel

One of the events, it turns out, was Global Green USA's pre-Oscar party. Now, that's a party worth attending! If what our country's celebrities are drinking during their before- and after-parties is any indication, sustainability is on the rise in the brewing world. Of course, New Belgium is getting all the press but there are other breweries doing their part as well. Some of these folks brew organic beers, while others focus on making their operations more sustainable. No matter how you pour it, these breweries are giving beer a good name:

Sierra Nevada: A pioneer in sustainable brewing technology and great beer, too!
Otter Creek: Are you suprised their Wolaver's organic line of beers is brewed in Vermont?
East End Brewing: Local to Pittsburgh, East End is committed to operating sustainably.
Brooklyn Brewing: Just like New Belgium, Brooklyn operates on wind power.
Anderson Valley: The makers of Boont Amber went solar last year.
Uinta: Also wind-powered and energy efficient.
Butte Creek: They offer a line of organic beers.
Sam Smith's: The U.K. brewery's gotten in on the act with their organic lager and ale options.
Peak Organic: A lil' brewery in Massachusetts, these folks do organic beers exclusively.
St. Peter's: This brewer of traditional styles offers an organic ale and an organic best bitter.
Bison: California locals can enjoy their entire selection of organics.
Roots Organic: Looks like Oregon's first organic brewery is only available at local restaurants.
Pitfield: A U.K. beer shop and brewery offering organic options.

While that's a pretty decent list, I've decided to compile a more comprehensive version (because I don't have enough projects on my plate). So this is an official "call for entries;" if you know of any organic beers, organic breweries, breweries who are taking measures to operate sustainably, or if you're an organic and/or sustainable brewer yourself, please please please get in touch. You can either email me at jessie [at] smallfailures [dot] com, or just post a comment here!

[Cross posted to Small Failures]

Wine X Complains: Wine Industry Doesn't Target Gen X

2007-02-20T10:10:00.000-08:00

Wine Industry Responds: What the Hell is Gen X?

It seems that a lot of feathers have been ruffled since Wine X, the magazine claiming to bring wine to those of us under 30something, folded recently in their characteristically whiny manner. Probably more feathers were ruffled with their sputtering out than in all their years of business (although the magazine is still online). Maybe it's Wine X's founder and editor Darryl Roberts' cutting comment:

"The wine industry says it's interested in young adults but spends all of its ad and promo money targeting the same people it's been targeting for the past 30 years - rich, old white people."

Which, actually, happens to be quite true.

But scroll past the actual article and Roberts' other snide comments and you discover that the industry's lack of support for Wine X was less about their own stuck-in-the-muddiness and more about the magazine's attitude towards and treatment of the industry they were covering. The whole thing is kind of like two schoolyard bullies scrapping with each other while the rest of us roll our eyes.

And at the risk of talking smack about a publication within such a small circle, it seems to me that the naysayers have a point. Wine X was one of those magazines I scratched off my "possibly contribute to" list when I read their submission guidelines. It wasn't their disgust for articles using words like oenophile, sommelier, award-winning, and so on (and on). Or their insistence on "hip, young, stylish writing." What really got my panties in a wad was the caveat:

"Please don't email or call to ask the status, as we receive more than 30 articles a week."

Um, that's because you're a flippin' magazine! Your job is to wade through query after query and article after article. It's what keeps you alive—well, kept you alive. Wine X didn't suffer from the wine industry's lack of support, as they claim. Wine X suffered from the failure to recognize that a successful magazine can't operate in a vacuum, and sure as hell can't piss all over its writers and the very people it covers. Irreverence and sarcasm are truly remarkable tools when mastered but when flapped about like a loose prick they, too, are merely flaccid and ineffectual.

The shame of it is that there really is a need for a wine press (no pun intended) that targets the under-30 crowd. The Wine Spectators and Wilford Wongs have a place and a purpose, and they offer a wealth of information that anyone with a brain in their head—of any age—can make good use of. But there is a population (small, perhaps) who enjoys both Ice T and eiswein, or for want of a better combo, Shiraz and Shakira (actually, I hate Shakira). Sorry for that. But you see my point—you don't need to dumb down the content just because you're targeting 25-year olds. And you certainly don't need to pee on the hand that feeds you. My cat did that this morning, and it got ugly.

A Case for Kaz

2007-02-17T12:55:00.000-08:00

Several years ago, The Captain and I were headed back to our cabin after a long, hard day of wine tasting in Sonoma County when we made a discovery. Although it sounds so very wine country of us, it really had been rough putting up with the jostling Sideways crowd at Ravenswood jamming themselves between us, thrusting their souvenir glass in our faces as they vied for the hostesses' bottle. I've never witnessed such heathen behavior in all my days of bartending. (Okay, there was that one time when the bachelor party's guest of honor passed out in the bar and peed his pants.)

But the final straw came when we hit B.R. Cohn and encountered the roving band of yupsters who felt it necessary to give us the hairy eyeball simply because we deigned to wear jeans in wine country. See, I don't do well with the hairy eyeball. So after buying a bottle of one of their wines (I can't remember which), and a bottle of the yummy Balsamic and Garlic Herb Dipping Oil, we jumped in the car and sped off, leaving the yupsters choking on a cloud of dust.

We headed in the direction of the cabin we were staying in and as we turned onto Adobe Canyon Rd., we made our discovery. A lil' sign humbly announcing the Kaz Winery shone in the late afternoon sunlight up ahead. Got it in you for one more? The Captain asked. Damn straight! I had to get the yuppie taste out of my mouth somehow. He slammed on the brakes and cut a hard right (or was it a left?) into the tiny dirt parking lot.

We walked into a small barn, dimly lit, echoing with the strains of AC/DC. The Captain and I looked at each other and knew we were home. The tasting room was staffed by the son of Kaz and his girlfriend (now wife), who explained that the winery was Papa Kaz's dream pursued. A commercial photographer, Kaz quit his job when his basement winemaking endeavors grew too powerful to resist. We paid our two bucks and proceeded to taste every wine they carried.

Which wasn't hard to do because the winery's size limited them to probably half a dozen red wines and a few killer ports (I don't even like port). Each wine we tasted was a little juicier than the one that came before, and we were immediately impressed. We walked away with a bottle hand-scrawled with "Sangiovese, 2003" (or was it 'o4?), and a membership in their wine club (my first and only wine club membership ever).

Since then, Kaz has been sending us bottle after bottle of big red wine. They like to play with lesser known grapes—their motto, in fact, is there's no harm in experimenting—such as mourvedre, petit verdot, carignon and others, and the experimentation pays off. And although they've had some growing pains, there has rarely been a miss with them.

A few months ago, I ordered a bottle of Outbound, a 2004 Cabernet Franc. Oh, my lord. Dark purple, light earth and spice, and ripe black fruit juiciness. I ordered another bottle as soon as possible. While Kaz's wines really aren't for everyone—they tend to scare away our non-wine drinking friends with their robust flavors and tannins—they are a phenomenal young winery who deserves far more attention than they seem to get. Please check 'em out if you're ever near Kenwood.

Images in this post © Kaz Winery.

Memories of a Superbowl Sunday

2007-02-03T15:42:00.000-08:00

The year was 2004. It was a Winter filled with suspense: would cupcake-baking, craft overlord Martha Stewart actually serve jail time? (Yes.) Would the triplets of Belleville—Bush, Cheney and Rove—steal election #2 and continue driving this nation into a cesspool of ignorance and fear-mongering come November? (Yes.) But more importantly, would the New England Patriots, underdogs still after winning their first Superbowl evah just a couple of years earlier, be able to prove they weren't just a fluke? (Hell, yes.)

I, on the other hand, was far too busy to worry about such pressing issues as how Tom Brady's ass would sparkle in those silver pants. I had betting squares to sell! I had a 6' projection screen and $10,000 projector that didn't belong to me to secure. I had a party to pull off that was probably going to bomb instead.

Because even though I was preparing for the Superbowl party to end all Superbowl parties, the truth was I'd be lucky if I got a handful of thirsty customers. People just didn't make their way out to my bar, sitting kitty-corner from a low-income housing project and several blocks up the street from San Francisco General Hospital's methodone clinic, just to sip a few $1 Pabst Blue Ribbons on the biggest game day of the year. But little did I know, I was about to have the best Sunday afternoon shift of my career. Too bad I hadn't planned for a barback...

The first strike against me was that I was opening two hours early to account for a 3:00 kickoff. I had advertised the hell out of the party, giving plenty of coverage to this fact because I was convinced that those additional two hours would be dead, since my regulars would plan to arrive at the normal time.

My second concern was getting the damn projector set up. Have you ever tried to balance a $10,000 piece of equipment on top of a barstool on top of a pool table in the middle of a bar? Clearly I hadn't thought this through when I was begging my audio engineer boyfriend to get the machine from his job. Add to that the neurotic coworker who had decided he'd join me early to "help," which actually meant that he planned to hook up his own VCR to this system (did I mention it was a $10,000 projector?) and play some pre-game clips he had lying around. As much as I loved Tiny, this was a guy who was shorter than me (I'm 5'3") but with the energy of ten tweakers on the go. The pouting wasn't pretty. We ended up having to move the projector out of reach by tucking it into the corner at the end of the bar.

By this time I didn't have time to apologize for hurting Tiny's feelings (no you can't fucking touch the projector!). I had to get those betting squares drawn up. Having never actually seen a betting square in my life prior to drawing one up on poster board that afternoon, I had my work cut out for me. But with the help of the Audio Engineer and a couple of earlybird Carolina fans—the outlook was dire already—I managed to wield the Sharpie deftly and get the board up behind the bar.

Now it was time to get my bar set up. Like every good opening bartender, I not only had to prep enough lemons and limes for my own shift, but for the shift after me as well. Then there were the dishes to wash that were leftover from the previous night's closing bartender's after party. I prepped the coffee (never brewing it until the first customer asked to ensure a fresh cup), pulled all the bar stools, wiped down the surfaces, rearranged the seating to face the largest projection screen I had ever handled, and set up my speed rail. From there, it was on to the taps. I liked to run them each briefly to clear out any liquid that had settled in the lines overnight—otherwise, that first pint is a bit nasty.

I went through the Anchor, Sierra and Prohibition with no problem, and continued on to the next bank of taps. I emptied my foamy glass into the drain, angled it under the next tap, and pulled down the Pabst handle. A rush of beer and foam hit the glass, releasing a musty waft, and then with a loud sucking, squirting "poof!" it stopped. I had killed the Pabst keg. My best-selling happy hour beer by far at $1 a pint (the best deal in town), was no more. Aha! you might say, It's a good thing you had a backup in your cooler, seeing as how it was your best selling beer! But oh, no, I did not. Because my underbar cooler would only hold enough kegs as we had taps, and the rest of our kegs were stacked in a cramped, dark, humid little den of iniquity gently termed The Office. There would be no Pabst for another couple of hours.

As I was playing musical kegs under the bar, sliding ponies and hundred-pound kegs around to get my PBR keg free, I heard noises above me. Familiar noises, like the soft murmer of voices. I pulled up on the keg lever, gave it a good counterclockwise jerk and released it from its hold. Letting the lever hang from its lines like a sad little monkey dangling on a jungle vine (huh?), I leaned over the dead keg, grabbed it with both hands and lifted from the knees. And then something remarkable happened. I straighened up and lifted my head, and came face to face with over a dozen customers craning their necks from in front of the bar. I had been officially open for about 15 minutes, with no PBR to speak of, and I was already slammed. Fucking sweet.

The rest of the shift was a blur of football, booze and betting squares: my "Willie McGuinness" drink special (a pint of Guinness and a shot of whiskey, named for then Pats linebacker Willie McGinist) was a hit. A good buddy won the first quarter squares and bought a round of shots for everyone he could afford, even leaving enough leftover to tip me properly. And although the majority of my bar was filled with smack-talking Pats fans (do we come in another kind?), we all came together in a roar of laughter when Justin Timberlake exposed Janet Jackson's booby on a 6' screen. It was heartwarming.

But the moral of this story isn't really about Janet's malfunction, or even my record-breaking sales that day. I suppose the moral of the story, in reality, is to do whatever you have to do to make football interesting for you, even for just one day. For some, it's not that hard. For me, it took throwing a party. How will you do it?

Beer Prejudice...or Some Other Kind?

2007-01-23T22:45:00.000-08:00

Columnist Mike Seate is fed up. He's mad as as hell, and he's not gonna take it anymore. So disgusted is he with the beer snobs who geek out over their fancy Belgians and are charmed by a "back story that would make a great Orlando Bloom/Johnny Depp film," that he's just gonna pack up his sixer of macro and go home.

While ordinarily I might say good riddance (or at least, hey, man, why're you being selfish with your beer?), I find the crux of his argument actually pretty fair: the up-scaling of beer has resulted in jacked-up prices and the same kind of beer-snobbery usually found among the Sideways set. What I do find offensive in Mike's editorial, though, is the flippant attitude and careless stereotyping of the "workingman."

Now, Mike's already been taken to task for his ignorance of beer's history. For those of you who need reminding about some of the "exotic" styles Mike hates on:

Porter, it's often said, gets its name for the river porters—working men, all—of eighteenth century London.
Saison, a type of Belgian that Mike finds so eye-rollingly snobbish, was traditionally brewed for farmers to consume while working the fields all day.

But let's forgive him his ignorance for a moment—let's put aside the possibility that perhaps he takes Miller/Coors/Anheuser-Busch just a little too seriously, as well as his derisive generalizations of those of us who enjoy a little flavor in our cup—and instead focus on his insistence that to be a working man means accepting poor quality goods and drinking them out of "styrofoam cups."

Because no one can really argue that Bud is a better beer than, say, Chimay (and Mike doesn't try to). What we're left with, then, is a disdain based solely on the supposed color of a man's collar. Mike would have us believe that a real blue-collar "workingman" would not be interested in sipping a carefuly brewed craft beer. Too fussy, too fey. But Scott Smith, working man and devoted brewer at East End Brewing (just up the road from Mike), describes his love of beer thusly:

"I spent 14 hours on beer yesterday, and I didn't drink or even brew a damn drop! Unloading 2,000 lbs worth of grain sacks, washing kegs, scrubbing out the kettle, filling growlers, and teaching "Beer School" at the local community center last night...My back is killing me, my knees are shot, my hands are destroyed, and my voice is hoarse. Plus, I'm sleep deprived from a week of long brew days and 3 tasting events."

So I bristle when people like Mike Seate accuse those who seek out good beer as having "pretensions and airs."

Of course, I respect a man's choice to express his opinion with his wallet—I agree with Mike that a can of Boddington's ain't worth $4.25. The problem is, I head into any upscale restaurant and there's Bud on the menu for—you guessed it—$4.25. And that's why Mike's article is so ignorant: because it's not about the beer, it's about the market. So Mike, the next time you straddle that "140-horsepower racetrack refugee" motorcycle you ride, think about your disdain for those who choose to spend their money on good beer instead of good bikes. Hypocrisy is unbecoming.

Further Reading:
Mike's response to his readers' responses
Mike's earlier ironic complaint about stereotyping
Jack Robertiello's rather civilized reaction to much ado about nothing

More Maps for Drinkers

2007-01-19T10:47:00.000-08:00

Do I detect a trend? The other day, I posted about partyGPS, where drinkers can map their alcohol-soaked destination. Apparently, people have forgotten how to use phone books because I've just stumbled across the Beer Mapping Project for those of us who need directions to the local brewery or beer bar. Although the Beer Mapping Project deals exclusively with—take a guess—beer, its features are more robust and it's generally easier to use.

Both sites seem to rely on Google's mapping API, but because partyGPS includes all location types (liquor stores, bars, clubs), a single map takes a while to load. BMP, on the other hand, is fairly quick. You might think that has to do with the fact that BMP only lists beer locations but, actually, the BMP listings for my zip code were almost as exhaustive as those on partyGPS.

BMP offers other features that add to the site's usefulness:

Search function: Allows you to search by city or zip, and includes an additional search function for brewery by region. I'm not sure why they only do this for breweries, though; what if I'm interested in only searching for stores?
Cell phones: BMP is viewable on your cell, so if you're out and about and desperately need a beer, you can find one. If I knew where I was going, however, and just needed an address, then I would probably just call information.

Ultimately, both of these sites use a technology to do something easily achieved by the phone book simply because they can. To my mind, the most useful aspect of either of these sites is, surprisingly, the BMP's cell phone searchability. If I'm traveling, it would be great to be able to log on and discover a local brewery nearby that I might otherwise overlook.

Gotta Love Rube Goldberg Contraptions!

2007-01-18T16:57:00.000-08:00

Here is a completely ridiculous, time-wasting video of someone's Rube Goldberg-esque beer-pouring contraption.

The good stuff doesn't get going till at least halfway through, but it took this guy 10 hours to put together, so perhaps you can give him 4 minutes.

Make Mine a Manhattan

2007-01-17T09:58:00.000-08:00

I'm honored to have been asked by ScotchBlog's Kevin Erskine to contribute to one of his other endeavors, DrinkShoot.

I’m a sucker for alchemy in a glass. A true cocktail joins its alcoholic and nonalcoholic parts into a single glorious whole, seemingly by nothing but the magic of a skillful bartender. I was reminded of just how sexy a cocktail can be last week while dining at a neighborhood restaurant. I ordered a Manhattan the way I always do: rye whiskey, rocks, lemon twist. The waiter looked at me funny but placed the order anyway. A few moments later he returned apologetically to inform me that they didn’t carry rye. A waiter who doesn’t know his bar stock—should I be concerned?

Read the rest of the article at DrinkShoot.

Finding the Perfect Watering Hole

2007-01-16T18:03:00.000-08:00

One of the perennial difficulties of the drinker is finding a decent place to drink. Recommendations from friends, reading reviews, walking into the first place that looks promising: these are all ways to discover your new favorite bar.

There are all kinds of standard review sites out there, like CitySearch and Yelp, but it can be tough to suss out the worthwhile haunts. Here are a few other sites that do things a little differently:

BeerFly
This is Beer Advocate's geographically-based guide to beer-centric establishments. The beauty of BeerFly lies not in its user reviews and careful scoring system but in its strict listing requirements. To be included in BeerFly, ya gotta be beer related. That means you'll find brewpubs, beer bars, beer stores, breweries, and brewing supply shops. This rules out a lot, though, so you better be ready to drink beer.

Chowhound
Chowhound is a gourmand's wet dream: with city-specific discussion boards and topical boards as well, users can find answers to almost any need. And although the focus is food, you'll discover that food lovers are often booze lovers, too.

partyGPS
This is a brand new site that looks promising: it's simply a map-based locator of every bar, club and liquor store located in any of 19 different US cities. Users can search by zip code, add locations and leave reviews or comments in the currently quiet discussion forum. With no major plans for additional content, the site is no-nonsense: it's basically an online phone book for the boozehound.

In addition to the above resources, there are other ways to uncover the best kept secret in town. Try chatting up your favorite bartender to discover where s/he drinks (please don't be a creepy stalker about this, though). Keep your eyes peeled when wandering around new neighborhoods and don't be afraid to stop in and have a quick pint to suss a place out. And above all, maintain an open mind and a willing liver.

News Reader's Delight

2007-01-10T01:58:00.000-08:00

I've been implementing some changes to the site lately, and plan to do more soon. Most of it will be aesthetic in nature, but one of the functional improvements I've made is to the feed options.

Not only can you now subscribe (via FeedBurner) to any number of feeds, but you can also get updates via email as well. That's for all you Luddites out there.

If you currently subscribe, please double-check that your feed is all on the up and up, and if you discover a problem simply use the link at the top right of the page.

Please do let me know if you have any specific requests or stuff you'd like to see done with the place. It does need some ambience, I know.

What You May Not Know About Your Female Bartender

2007-01-09T10:53:00.000-08:00

Or, How Not to Piss Off the Chick Pouring Your Drinks

It may be stating the obvious that a woman gains instant popularity points the moment she steps behind the bar. Is it the way we wrap our fingers around the tap handle, or the view when we turn around and lean down to pick up a bottle off the lower shelf? Given that the bulk of any bar's patrons are men—drinking men—it comes as no surprise that bartending women tend to get extra attention while on the job.

While I could—and have, and probably will again sometime—wax philosophical about the role of women behind the bar, this post is merely a tipsheet. It's in honor of Jeffrey Morgenthaler's #4 entry in his Ten Myths You've Probably Heard in Bars post (I seem to be piggy-backing off of his entries lately; hope he doesn't mind): "Women That Go to Bars Alone are Looking for Sex." Untrue, of course, but for some reason us ladies often get the shaft—so to speak—when it comes to the bar scene. So...

Five Things to Consider When Hitting on Your Female Bartender:

I probably have a boyfriend.
Hey, I'm a catch and chances are I've already been caught. By someone else.
If I do let you know I'm single, it's not an open invitation.
Men like to fish and I can't count the number of times I've heard, "So does your boyfriend mind you working such late nights?" It's quite transparent and not charming at all. But worse is when I reply "I don't have a boyfriend" and they take it as a hint. I shouldn't need to pretend I'm taken just to keep you at bay. I am perfectly comfortable telling you that I ain't interested, single or not. No excuses necessary.

I am not a stripper.
Just because I show a little cleavage now and then does not—ever—give you any right whatsoever to demand things of me. I am a woman, with boobs and ass, and I happen to work in a very visible job that sometimes feels like I'm on stage. But I'm not performing for you, I'm here to mix really good drinks, serve my guests in a timely manner, and create an atmosphere of fun and comfort. That doesn't mean I need to twirl for you, get up on the bar for you, flirt with you, buy you a drink or let you buy me one, or otherwise do tricks for tips. You may request a drink, you may request that I turn up the jukebox, but you may not request that give you a hug just so you can rub up against me. Wierdo.

If I ask you to leave, you must do it.
I am 5'3" and weigh conderably less than most of my customers. Behind a wall of taps I look even smaller. But guess what? I look huge when I have a pool cue in my hand. I shoot a mean game of stick, so don't fuck with me, period. If I tell you to stop doing something, stop. If I tell you to get out, get the hell out. Men seem to think that they can a) scare me, b) cajole me into allowing them to get away with murder, or c) ignore me. Wrong on all counts, boys.

And just so this list isn't all negative:

It's very attractive when you come in on my shifts by yourself, read at the bar or make small talk, tip well and are always respectful.

Hopefully, these tips will help you keep the drinks flowing and your bartender smiling. The vast majority of patrons, male or female, are simply looking for good drinks and good conversation. Those who inevitably act like jackasses can be spotted from a mile away, and often go home bitter and alone. Don't be that guy.

Trader Joe's Knows Beer and Wine

2007-01-05T09:26:00.000-08:00

Trader Joe's certainly has a cult of its own. I happily gave up Safeway for TJ's when I realized how much, well, better they are. They're known for great prices, great service and great employee benefits. But they're also known for quality private label products. Almost every grocery store chain contracts with large manufacturers to produce their house brand labels; Safeway, for example, uses Lucerne for dairy and OmniFoods for the Organic "O" line. There has been a lot of debate over whether these products tend to be of lesser quality than their name brand counterparts.

Trader Joe's fans can lay their fears to rest, at least when it comes to beer and wine. I'm still waiting on confirmation from TJ's (the chains are loathe to divulge the name of their producers, often for contract reasons), but according to various members of Beer Advocate, TJ's relies on some well-known and reliable brewers for their beer. These are craft brewers, whose tendency is towards flavorful, quality brews.

Trader Joe's Vintage Ale 2006: This Belgian-style ale is supposedly brewed by the lovely folks at Unibroue, a well-respected Canadian brewery known for Belgian styles like their La Fin du Monde and Trois Pistoles. I picked up a bottle recently, but have yet to try it.

Stockyard Stout: Apparently produced by Goose Island in Chicago.

Trader Joe's WinterFest & Hefeweizen: The packaging (and San Jose production address) has most folks sure that these house brand beers are brewed by Gordon Biersch.

Jumping Cow Amber Ale & Fat Weasel: Identified as being brewed by Firestone-Walker, also in California.

What about wine? It's inevitable that Trader Joe's does the same with wineries, particularly given their wide selection in most locations and competitive prices. The store's most famous wine is "Two Buck Chuck," a generally lousy wine sold exclusively at Trader Joe's and manufactured by the, shall we say, controversial winemaker Bronco Wine. Turning up the wineries who produce TJ's private labels has proved challenging—in an industry where repuation is closely intertwined with cost, winemakers don't necessarily want to be associated with value-priced wine. This may change as consumers continue to educate themselves about quality wine and realize that price is not necessaily an indicator of quality.

In the meantime, if you know of any breweries or wineries producing products for Trader Joe's, please share. Make sure you let me know if it's speculation on your part, or if you have info that I don't.

Free Beer!

2007-01-01T17:51:00.000-08:00

2007 already offers plenty of changes on the beer front: California lawmakers say it's now legal for brewers to offer free samples to restaurant- and bar-goers. While some claim it's just a way for Anheuser-Busch to muscle in on beer sales by outspending smaller craft breweries, I think this argument is a little absurd. Artisan winemakers haven't suffered from the nationals' ability to offer samplings, so why would this pose a problem for brewers? If anything, it gives them the ability to convert consumers of macro brews who aren't willing to spend the money to educate themselves. The best way to sell a good product is to offer it free to the right folks.

But the Sacrament Bee's coverage of this story reveals a more insidious problem in beerdom... (To read the article in the prveious link: try bugmenot21/bugmenot21 as a user name and password to log in.) Apparently, some folks still insist that beer is a simpleton's drink. Fred Jones, legal counsel for one of the groups opposed to the legislation, had this to say:

"What is the reason behind giving someone 8 ounces of beer free? One could argue that with wineries, each winery is different and every bottle is different depending on age or season. But we're talking about beer here."

You don't even need to like beer to recognize the ignorance of such a statement. There are dozens and dozens of beer styles, and each exhibits its own range of flavors and aromas. With so many variables, from yeast strain to water filtration to brewing temperatures and beyond, it's a wonder that breweries are able to produce such consistent products from one batch to the next.

And this seems to be where the fallacy of beer, plain and simple finds it legs. Because breweries are faced with a far different challenge then winemakers: to produce a consistent product from batch to batch and year to year. This stands in stark contrast to the wine industry's celebration of all things unique: this vintage, that region, this vintner, that bottling are all celebrated as unique modifiers to a particular bottle's taste.

Why is it so difficult for both consumers and non-consumers alike to wrap their heads around the concept that hops, yeast and malt all come in multiple varieties just as grapes do? Oh yeah, because the breweries don't tell us that. The big boys go about talking about ice-cold this and refreshingly light that, but they don't talk about actual, real beer flavor. They cultivate the idea that beer is for simpletons with simple taste.

Which brings us back to the bars. Allowing brewers to face their customers and provide free samples means that folks can find out for themselves that beer actually can taste like something other than corn and rice. Smart brewers—large or small—will recognize this as the advantage it is and start putting their beer into the hands of the folks most likely to buy it: bar and restaurant patrons.

Champagne for My Real Friends...

2006-12-31T13:45:00.000-08:00

...and real pain for my sham friends.

This pithy saying is on the double-sided sign at a local liquor store. While not the most sweet-spirited motto to live by, I like the first part.

In honor of the new year, or amateur night as I like to call it, here are a couple of cocktails for those of you not inclined to drink your Champagne straight:

Kir Royale

Champagne
Splash of Chambord (or Creme de Cassis)

Just pour into your flute, and salute!

Black Velvet
For those beer lovers among us...

2 parts Champagne
1 part stout, such as Guinness or Beamish

The standard method is to pour the stout into a flute first, then carefully layer the Champagne on top by slowly pouring down the side of the glass.

However, the traditional method of the Black & Tan or, more appropriately, the Snakebite calls for pouring the Champagne first and then inverting a spoon over your glass. Pour the stout slowly over the back of your spoon, so it layers on top of the Champagne.

Champagne Cocktail
...what I'll be having tonight

1 small lump sugar
Dash or two of bitters (preferably two)
Champagne to fill

How to Become a Bartender in 10 Easy Steps

2006-12-27T11:16:00.000-08:00

We all know that bartenders are the rock stars of the blue collar world. Everyone wants to be your friend and some want to be you, period. Of the latter, many think the road to success begins with bartending school. But working bartenders know that this is a fallacy that results in ill-trained, poorly-skilled blowhards (am I being too harsh?).

Jeffrey Morgenthaler recently saved one of his readers (maybe more, we'll never know) such a fate by spelling out the easiest path to landing a real-life bartending gig. Reflecting on all the illiterate resumes that crossed my bar over the years, the overanxious and overly cocky expressions, and the drunken pleas from strangers to put in a good word, I owe Jeffrey a huge thanks on behalf of working bartenders and bar owners everywhere. Hopefully someone will heed his advice.

But while his get-hired-now plan is a very good one, I would like to add the following caveats and tips for job-seekers hoping to strike it rich while getting drunk:

1. Stay humble.
Bartending is a service job, so if you are uncomfortable being in a servant role, it's probably not for you. Power-tripping bartenders are the worst of the worst in my opinion: if you think I'm beneath you because I'm on the other side of the bar, I sure ain't gonna shower you with monetary praise. It is possible to be cocky and kind, but you better back it up with skills.

2. Know how to actually mix drinks.
Yes, you must memorize recipes. That's the easy part. But you must also know the principles of mixology: how to combine, balance and influence flavors. You must take pride in the product you turn out. And for god's sake, taste your drinks! If you can't drink it, I sure as hell probably won't want to.

3. If you're not moving, you're doing something wrong.
This speaks to Jeff's mention of being a hard worker—too many bartenders use a slow shift as an excuse to read a book. Sure, if you can lean you can clean. But beyond that, a slow shift is the perfect opportunity to cultivate regular customers. Move up and down the bar and chat with the one or two people sitting at either end. Get to know them, and they will come back. On your shift. But only if you chat them up and let them know it's your regular shift. Better yet, engage them both in one conversation. All of a sudden, a lonely guest has met some new friends. That means bigger tips for you. See how this works?

4. Don't get lazy.
All bars are not created equal. High-volume dance clubs require different skill sets than neighborhood dives, which require different skill sets than upscale hotel bars. It's easy to figure out your clientele and stick with a one-size-fits all service style. But that's when you get rusty and when a guest comes in asking for a Sidecar, you've forgotten how to make it. Or you're so used to depending on your barback that you let a keg run out instead of replacing it when s/he calls in sick one day. Always develop your skills, challenge yourself and take pride in your work.

5. Never take your barback for granted.
Not all bartenders have the luxury of a barback, but those who do must tip them out fairly. These people sweat and break their backs so you can go home with a full pocket. Treat them right and you will always have clean glasses, bussed tables, fresh kegs and stocked bevnaps. Give them a reason to come in on time. Eventually, they may be in your shoes. So respect them and teach them what it means to be a professional bartender.

This is a list that really is unending, so feel free to add anything I've left off. I just run into so many new bartenders who are so taken with the perks of the job that they forget what it means to be a professional. Bartenders deserve the rock star reps we have, but only if we earn it.

Further reading:
Jeff's original post
Joe Bartender's description of bartending school
Cheryl Charming's extensive Hints and Tips for Bartenders

They Say It's a Dream Job But...

2006-12-21T12:07:00.000-08:00

I've said it before and I'll say it again: bartending is friggin' fun. What other job allows you to share a shot with your customers, listen to great music all night, shoot some stick and earn enough money to support yourself on part time hours? But it ain't all roses, either. There's the babysitting component, and the pukey bathroom component, and then there's the safety component.

I was recently reminded of just how dangerous the job can be while visiting a buddy and former colleague's shift at my old stomping ground. Now, I've broken up my share of fights but I've never been a target myself. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for J. Last month, he managed to find himself in the worst position a bartender can ever find himself in: face down on the mats with a gun pointed at him.

Now, J. is a unique individual. An anarchist punk, mycologist (our mushroom hunting field trip made me feel like Red Riding Hood, basket and all), musician and all-around sweetheart, J. is not the kind of guy who should ever be at the mercy of another human being.

Having locked the bar after his night shift, he headed to his car. But before he could get there he was approached by two men and a gun and ordered to re-open the gate. He, of course, followed orders—bartenders are not stupid people and few of us are willing to die for a single night's pocket full of cash. But what really freaked him out was his robber's insistence that J. join him inside. That is not what anyone wants to be ordered to do.

When recounting his encounter to me last week, he described pointing out the obvious to the robber: I'd rather not, man, I don't want to see your face. I really don't want to know what you look like. Regardless, the guy forced him inside, took the couple hundred dollars from the till and then ordered J. on the ground, face down.

What do you do in a situation like that, folks? After a long night of entertaining guests, changing kegs, sweeping up and washing surfaces, all you want to do is get home and unwind in front of the TV for an hour before crashing (well, when there isn't an after-hours, that is). You don't want to lie down on rubber mats soaked in sticky liquor, spit and probably stray shards of glass. You don't want to drive home with an empty pocket because your tips have been taken from you. And you most certainly do not want a strange man to shoot you in the back because he doesn't want the cops to know who he is.

J. got down on the mats. And thankfully, he is still behind the bar every week and is as laid back as always. Someone, somewhere, is $160 richer. But J.'s job hasn't changed: he is an entertainer, a cocktail slinger, and he is an enforcer. His job—the job of all bartenders—is to keep the customers safe. But sometimes the bartender ends up in the line of fire themselves. So lock up, keep yer eyes open, and stay safe.

The Poetry of Beer

2006-12-21T10:20:00.000-08:00

What would seem to be a tongue-in-cheek half-joke turns out to be one of my more inspiring destinations on a regular basis: Beer Haiku Daily.

Take this little gem as an example:

My glass sits empty
the beer nut bowl is a void
No one knows my name

The inspiration, not surprisingly, is the complete first season of Cheers.

Is there a more fitting subject worthy of haiku than beer? Doubtful.
Is there a more succinct, elegant form able to capture both the complexity and simplicity of this beverage? Absolutely not.

Cheers to Captain Hops for helping me read my requisite five poems a day!

Santa Doing Barbie Does Not Constitute Decor

2006-12-15T23:51:00.000-08:00

Or, Why Your Bar Needs Ambience

It is, in fact, illegal in the state of California to serve a patron of any establishment—drinking or otherwise—while intoxicated (the patron, that is—as far as I know the barkeep can be as blotto as she wishes). As much of an oxymoron as this seems, there is a reason for it: drunk people do stupid shit.

That said, this rule goes unheeded about 98% of the time. My concern here lies with the other 2%. The two-percenters are the ones who are too drunk to speak, too drunk to make it to the bathroom in time, too drunk to get home safely, too drunk to f...well, you get the idea. These are the ones that eventually get cut off, 86'ed, or packed up by "friends." No one likes the two-percenters, although many of us rightious folk are in no position to judge (come on, I know you've hated your own self in the morning on at least one occasion). They are generally messy, require constant supervision, and rarely buy a round for the rest of us.

A good bartender knows how to recognize the two-percenter while s/he's still in the 98th percentile and take preventative measures accordingly. The easiest way to do so, however, lies in the hands of the bar owner. Quite simply, decorate the place. It may seem a simplistic response, utter crap, even. But it's not and here's why: an undecorated bar is the two-percenters breeding ground.

You see, ultimately a bar should offer rich promise: the promise of scintillating conversation with the barkeep, a fleeting romance, expanded flavor horizons, a killer juke, all of the above or any number of other possibilities. But a bar that offers no ambience at all is merely a place to get drunk. And who does that appeal to, but a two-percenter?

So for the love of god, please give me some mood lighting. Make sure there's at least a little soul on the jukebox. Hire bartenders with personality, and don't put Irish Car Bombs on special (better yet, don't serve 'em at all). If you really want to go the distance, try a theme (think fishing, owls, or black cats). But whatever you do, please remember that nothing but a counter with stools only ensures that someone will fall off of one by night's end. And nobody wants to deal with that kind of a lawsuit.

A note about this entry's title: The other night I experienced a cavalcade of drunken absurdity at a bar in the Mission whose sign rather pathetically—albeit aptly—reads merely BAR. Never having been particularly inspired by the place, I nevertheless exchanged a few pleasantries with the nice yet distant bartender while staring at the only item that could possibly constitute "decor" in the entire joint: a dancing tabletop Santa with a Barbie doll bent over and strapped to his waist. While in and of itself mildly amusing (particularly after a Maker's and soda), this is simply not an acceptable effort in the ambience department. No wonder every last person stumbled out of there bleary eyed into the streets. Should this really be encouraged?

2004 Vinum Cellars PETS: Ain't for the Dogs

2006-12-13T11:54:00.000-08:00

Years ago, I was having a nice romantic dinner with the ol' man at Emmy's Spaghetti Shack and we decided to splurge on a bottle of wine. I use the term "splurge" because Emmy's really isn't that much of a value as far as I'm concerned, and since it's cash-only the wine would have emptied our collective wallet. I may have been bartending at the time, but habit taught me not to walk around with a shift's worth of tips in my pocket.

We went for the V inum Cellars PETS Petite Sirah. While pets is a nickname often given to petite sirah by winemakers, this bottle earns its moniker equally from Tanker, the dog pictured on the label. I loved the wine, then promptly forgot about it as snookums and I went home full of wine and spaghetti for a little more romance.

Fast forward to last month. I have no idea where I was shopping at the time, but lo and behold there was a bottle of the stuff. I was instantly reminded of low-lit Emmy's, with their reggae DJs and killer focaccia, and the warmth of the wine. I bought a bottle of the '05.

We drank it last night, and it didn't disappoint. It wasn't, however, as soft and luscious as I remember it. It poured almost black—an incredibly dark red, inky glass of wine—and almost knocked me out with its smell. The alcohol (14% ABV) and the fruits hit at the same time. Ripe red and black berries, some cassis and some spiceness hinted at what was to come.

I have to admit my heart sunk slightly as I took the first sip. Granted, I was drinking this first glass about ten minutes after opening the bottle, but the structure just wasn't what I'd hoped for. I wanted soft, round tannins but for that I would have to let this one rest for a while. Even after an hour, they were still a little sharp for my taste, although not surprising for the grape—really, I should have known better than to get my hopes up. Petite sirah is typically a tannic wine, and the best way to mellow it is to age the bottle substantially. Tannins are a personal preference, and I like mine present but soft.

For flavor, on the other hand, this bottle was fantastic. The jammy fruits I had sniffed earlier were still there, but more pronounced was the spice. That pepperiness may have been blown up by the tannins, but it made this wine ideal with my balsamic vinaigrette-dressed spinach salad. I would have liked a little more earthiness, I think, to anchor it and make it all a little easier to drink. As it was, I could only get through a couple of glasses (which is just fine on a school night these days). But next time, I think it needs food with a little more bite to it—too bad I don't eat meat.

There's something else about the PETS that really appeals to me, though. Remember that dog I mentioned, Tanker? A portion of the proceeds from the sale of this wine—and they've been making it for years—goes to the SF SPCA and the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Research Foundation. In fact, according to the Vinum website, they have managed to donate over $25,000 to these and other organizations to date. That alone makes this wine worth the price of admission ($12-$20), and you'll end up with a bottle of serious fruit and spice to boot.

Have a Little Balsamic with Your Beer

2006-12-11T22:27:00.000-08:00

A recent post on Beer Advocate alerted me to a study published by an MIT alum reporting on the effects of expectation on beer drinkers' percepton of taste. Translation: telling people you put balsamic vinegar in their beer makes them think it's icky.

This may not come as a surprise to most of us, but the study implies another conclusion. Because everyone experiences taste differently—be it balsamic or bananas or booze—it is tough to really classify quality.

I was once again reminded of this on Sunday morning, while watching a football game at a bar with friends. M. sat down with her full pint of lager, and immediately grimaced upon taking that first refreshing sip. "Does this taste right to you?" she asked. I took a sip myself and responded with a resounding NO. It tastes like corn. But M. insisted the typical adjunct-laden flavor of Miller Light wasn't what she was referring to. Rather, she detected a slightly sour taste.

So, trying to remain the professional that I am, I swallowed another sip. Sure enough, once I got past my own prejudice against macro lite beers, I noticed the sour taste she was referring to. I couldn't help but laugh at the idea that a soapy glass was less offensive to my sensibilities than a corn-based brew.

I don't recount this simply to draw attention to my snobbiness (I don't begrudge anyone their desire for a low-calorie beverage), but to point out that the next time you decide you do or don't like a particular beer style, try it first and let your taste buds make the actual decision for you.

Influence of Expectation, Consumption & Revelation on Preferences for Beer (PDF download of study)
Knowing the Ingredients Can Change the Taste (NY Times article)

Age is Just a Number?

2006-12-09T00:30:00.000-08:00

What the hell made me think I was so special? I always swore that I would never get wierd about age—when I turned 30 I wouldn't get all moany, I would never say kids these days, and I'd never feel those constant reminders of how old I am.

Boy, was I wrong. I spent today learning about information graphics (just go with it, I'll bring it back around). Edward Tufte, the mad genius of the subject, pointed us to a chart on the "marketing trends and stylistic patterns in the development of pop/rock music" (scroll down that link to see the chart). A beautiful thing, that chart is, and I immediately gravitated to the far left-hand corner, where rockabilly was crammed in between shlock rock and vocal group r 'n' r. Of course it starts with Bill Haley and Elvis, but then it flows right into country: Ferlin Huskey, Johnny Cash, Don Gibson. Now, as I'm smiling to myself because the room (whose mean age was probably 45) was all atwitter about the Monkees and Bobby Sherman (no, seriously) while I was singing "Automatic Mama" in my head, I hear E.T. drop the bombshell: "I'm sure some of you of a certain age will recognize some of the names on here."

Excuse me?! Of a certain age? All due respect to the god of quantiative information display, I spent my late teens and early 20s as a record store clerk on both coasts, and I probably have half of that chart in my collection. Why must anyone over 40 assume that us 30 year olds have no appreciation for Duane Eddy or Dave Brubeck or Jimmy Rogers? I'm 30, fer chrissakes! I'm supposed to be feeling old, not young!

All of which reminds me of the days when I was still on the shy side of 30, slinging drinks, listening to all my older friends whispering in my ear just you wait—you'll see how old you'll feel (see, I told you I'd bring it back around). I was working at the bar pictured above, a nice little neighborhood dive filled with older folk who made me feel like E.T. did today—too damn young to appreciate anything with history, anything nuanced or wise. So I knew it would never happen to me. I'd never feel too old.

And then I carded my first 80s kid. Y'know, the kids who dress like it's 1982 even though they were freakin' two years old at the time. Well, the only reason they do that is because they don't know that fashion in 1982 sucked. Really badly. Like, worse than the 70s, right?!

It was bound to happen, and it happened overnight. All of a sudden, the bar was filled with these kids who'd just turned 21. And they were all born after 1980. Ouch. Wow, did I feel old—until today, when I was reminded that I'm still too young to appreciate Hank Ballard.

To George and Ollie, Kate and Frieda!

2006-12-05T18:03:00.000-08:00

Today is Repeal Day, a fledgling holiday marking the repeal of the 18th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution.

For thirteen long, dry years, Americans were consitutionally forbidden from drinking booze. The 18th Amendment was instituted in 1920, forbidding "the manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquors within, the importation thereof into, or the exportation thereof from the United States and all territory subject to the jurisdiction thereof for beverage purposes."

Besides just being a really huge buzzkill, Prohibition put hard-working mom-and-pop shops across the country out of business. Many saloon keepers and restaurant owners couldn't survive this dark period, including my own family. Two of my great-great aunts, Kate and Frieda, took over their father's New York City restaurant just as Prohibition kicked in, but even though they sold "a cup of tea" on the sly, they just couldn't make it work.

My great-great-uncle, George, also owned a restaurant there, but he refused to sell liquor during Prohibition. According to an article from the New York Sun dug up by my uncle years ago, "The Chambers Street place had a couple of things to its credit that didn't call for the use of alcoholic stimulant. True the corned beef and cabbage on Wednesdays have tasted a little better with a glass of real beer, but George's customers knew the value of the food and were satisfied to forgo the stimulant."

A smart guy, that George: he kept his place on Chambers St. open until 1930. I don't know when George died, but I think he must have lived to see the passing of the 21st Amendment in 1933. I wonder what he thought about having retired three years earlier when he read that headline.

So hoist a glass tonight, would you, for all the brewers and barmen, the shopkeeps and restaurant owners, and all the everyday men and women who were unfortunate enough to live through the worst draught in our nation's history.

To George and Ollie, Kate and Frieda, and all the rest!

Special thanks to the following bloggers and boozehounds for getting the word out about Repeal Day:

MindRtist
Drink This Blog
Jeffrey Morgenthaler
All the Rage
DC Drinks
Museum of the American Cocktail
and the daddy of 'em all: Days That End in Y, with his list of 73 ways to celebrate (one for each anniversary)

How are you celebrating Repeal Day? Let us know!

Spotted! Speakeasy's Bootlegger Black

2006-12-03T13:46:00.000-08:00

We met a friend at Doc's Clock last night before an incredible show (High on Fire, with Hightower opening) and I was pleasantly suprised to find Speakeasy's Bootlegger Black on tap.

Bootlegger Black is—take a guess—a schwarzbier, weighing in at 5.3% ABV. I'm a big fan of black lagers, with their incredibly robust stout-like flavors but a lighter body that keeps the style from being too filling.

Speakeasy's version didn't disappoint in the flavor department. At first sip, I got a great smack of overtoasted malts, coffee and tobacco. Those malts gave it a mild sweetness which kept the tobacco and coffee flavors from seeming too bitter or overpowering. But I was disappointed as I gave it a swallow; the body was extremely thin and watery and it just washed the flavors away. There was an ever so slight hint of hops at the finish (didn't last) but I like a little more hops dryness to balance out all those malts.

Schwarzbiers are traditionally lighter bodied for sure and malt-heavy, but Bootlegger Black had so little body to speak of and so little hops dryness that I couldn't help but wonder what happened. Maybe after mixing up a batch of their incredible Big Daddy IPA, they found themselves short on the good stuff. Either way, what I was left with was an eminently drinkable session beer that didn't linger.

I'd absolutely recommend Bootlegger Black as a soft introduction to schwarzbiers, but if you're looking for a paradigm of the style, try to seek out Moonlight's Death and Taxes.

More Bootlegger Black reviews at: Beer Advocate and Rate Beer.

The Sad Fate of the Bartender's Ingenuity

2006-11-29T11:14:00.000-08:00

Bartenders are often treated like the rock stars of blue collar hospitality, falling somewhere between celebrity chefs and celebrity restaurant owners. Customers want to get into both our pants and our good graces. So why, then, do they balk when we offer them the unfamiliar—our own personal cocktail concoction?

My pop sent me an article published in today's NY Times titled Knock It, Then Try It (try BugMeNot if you need to register to read it). In it, columnist Pete Wells laments this very phenomenon and suggests that perhaps it has something to do with the fact that bartenders often create drinks from scary ingredients.

There might be some truth to this. When I was bartending, I had so many different liquors, liqeuers and mixers at my disposal that it seemed like a shame not to experiment. My regulars regularly received the fruits of my labors, sometimes to their chagrin. But every now and then I hit, and hit big. I remember a concoction one of my regulars dubbed The Lifesaver: Absolut Melon, cranberry and orange juices, and a splash each of grenadine and grapefruit juice. Or something like that—after a few of those, my memory got fuzzy.

But it's the grown-up cocktails—the ones featuring booze that puts hair on your chest, like gin or tequila—that customers shy away from. And it's too bad, because these are often the best of the bunch. Elegant, assembled with care, demanding an expert's light touch to balance the flavors, these cocktails would make Dale DeGroff proud. Yet every night they slip quietly away into the shadows, slipping behind the speedrail never to be sipped again. And all because of a scared clientele.

In honor of all those unsung heroes of mixology who've created unappreciated masterpieces, I give you The Green Lantern, a lil' sip of heaven I created one gray afternoon while behind the bar. It's nothing earth-shattering, but it's rather soothing and so I suspect it will never catch on.

The Green Lantern

1 1/4 oz. Tanqueray gin
3/4 oz. green Chartreuse
Juice of 1/2 lemon

Serve straight up in a chilled cocktail glass with an ever-so-slight splash of soda. Garnish with a twist.

Becoming a Booze Expert

2006-11-29T10:12:00.000-08:00

Doctors are experts at saving lives; lawyers are experts at arguing; architectural engineers are experts at designing buildings that won't fall down. If they screw up, someone dies or goes to jail, and that is why they go through years of training and get paid the big bucks. I, on the other hand, am an expert at drinking. If I screw up, I wake up in the morning with a wicked headache and a vague sense of guilt.

And yet I earn my living at it. I actually get paid to write about booze, and this damn well makes me an expert. My training consisted of years of barroom pool games, the occasional drinking contest, marathon drunkfests and lots and lots of tasting. Tasting carefully, with an open mind, reservedly sometimes and with gusto at others. My training consisted of reading—books, magazines, the backs of bottles—and talking—with fellow drinkers, fellow bartenders, distributors, brewers and distillers.

The trouble is, I may be an expert but I still don't know shit. The world of liquor, beer and wine is a vast and ever-changing one. There's the consumer-facing world of it (what's that taste like? what's in that cocktail or proprietary blend?) and there is the business end of it (what's popular right now? what's going to be popular? who the hell thought garlic vodka was a good idea?). Us experts tend to have our niche—I'm working on beer—and we protect it fiercely.

Now, the hairy eyeball I get when I tell folks that I write about booze for a living doesn't help my self-confidence any. The eyebrow goes up, a faint smile curls up one side of the mouth, and I can hear that question rattling around inside their brain: really, aren't you just a drunk that gets paid?

I suppose, in some ways, I am. There is nothing tangible that separates me from the casual drinker—no years of schooling, no apprenticeships and mentor programs, no certificate to prove I am fit for critiquing that expensive vintage. But I do have one thing that sets me apart—one thing that makes me proud to be a booze expert, one thing that allows me to continue to earn my living: I can probably drink you under the table.

Who are you?
	I'm a brewer, vintner or distiller
	I'm in the hospitality business
	I'm in the beverage business
	I'm a fellow writer
	I just like drinks
	Apparently, I can't be classified

[pollcode.com free polls]