Adventures in cocktailing, based in Dallas USA -- drinking globally, acting locally. Barmoire is Marc Ramirez -- journalist, boulevardier, lover of food and drink and winner of exactly one cocktail contest.
Hendrick’s Gin’s X-111 Flying Cucumber Airship. Because the skies must be tamed with produce.
Much is inherently ridiculous about the notion of a flying cucumber, and yet such concerns did little to deter Hendrick’s, the decidedly unusual Scotland-based gin, from conceiving just such a thing to loose upon the nation’s skies. That’s just how Hendrick’s rolls.
“Just as we applied the taste of CUCUMBER to GIN,” the Hendrick’s literature boasted in typical circus-sideshow fashion, “we are now applying the CUCUMBER’S AERODYNAMIC SHAPE to FLIGHT.”
Part of Hendrick’s’ characteristically vintage setup as we prepared to take flight.
This weekend, the marvelous X-111 Flying Cucumber Airship found its way to Houston’s Ellington Field, a military and public airport on the city’s periphery, where members of the cocktail literati were afforded this most peculiar form of transport.
Arriving by Hendrick’s shuttle from a safe measure beyond, we intrepid travelers were deposited on the field at a pop-up parlor echoing Hendrick’s’ old-timey vibe with vintage furniture, trunks and an antique automobile with a pullout bar.
But there could be no doubt that it was the 130-foot dirigible in the distance that had captured our fascination. Cleverly wrapped in dark green vinyl to recall the familiar produce that is one of gin’s besties, it sported a single eye, the symbol of Hendrick’s Gin’s so-called Society of the Unusual.
Eye in the sky: The symbol of Hendrick’s Gin’s Society of the Unusual goes airborne.
Approaching storm clouds offered an air of adventure as well as a good amount of wind, requiring the blimp to be tethered by the nose to a large mast, lest it be disastrously swept away. I could only imagine that, should the craft tragically go down during my ride, that at least my obituary would be mildly hilarious.
Meanwhile, a Hendrick’s-attired crew attended urgently to the airship, wresting it into position with ropes and sheer brute strength as we took turns being ushered in groups of one to three into the surprisingly small cab.
I was lucky enough to ride alone with pilot Cesar Mendez, a Kerrville native who splits cucumber-flying duties with fellow pilot Charlie Smith. Theirs is a rare skill indeed: “There’s actually more astronauts in the world than people who can fly these things,” said Jim Ryan, Hendrick’s Gin’s U.S. brand ambassador.
The skipper, brave and sure: Cesar Mendez, Flying Cucumber pilot.
A wave of Mendez’s hand and the crew freed the ropes from their mighty grips, and off we sailed into the heavens. A pair of wheels to either side of him controlled our lift and descent, while pedals, or rudders, at his feet controlled direction.
Our ascent was casual and, as Hendrick’s would put it, civilized, a series of plodding front-to-back tilts that gradually took us up and forward, like a great whale rising from its oceanic depths. “We’re slow and low,” Mendez said. “We’re never really in a hurry.”
Our cruising altitude of 1,000 feet was perfectly acceptable for a flying cucumber.
The airfield and its surrounding greenbelts and neighborhoods opened up before us. Within a few minutes, we had reached our comfort zone of 1,000 feet, a height that not only allows those on the ground to take in the airship’s signature artwork but keeps the flying cucumber safely away from other air traffic or flying produce.
It was about this time that I remembered that I was terrified of heights. The fact that I was next to an open window from which my cell phone could easily spill until it fell, fell, fell indistinguishably to the ground 80 stories below, was no help, nor were the cab’s forward tilts that practically shoved my altitudinous predicament in my face.
The fearless crew prepares to haul in the descending airship.
Yes, I was in a real pickle. I’m not gonna lie: My hands had gone clammy and my heart was racing. I did what I normally do in such situations: I went into reporter mode, tossing a few questions at the Mendez and focusing on jotting down the answers until I realized that in actuality, the 35-mph ride was remarkably smooth. And enjoyable, too, despite the lack of beverage service, or more to the point, gin-and-tonic service.
Before long we were moving in for our landing as the crack Hendrick’s crew lined up in inverted-V formation, prepared to haul us home and toward welcome refreshment.
Houston was the fourth stop on the cucumber’s 13-city tour that includes Los Angeles, San Francisco, Boston, Detroit, New York and Chicago. Next would be South Florida. Dallas had originally been on Hendrick’s’ schedule but unfortunately had to be scrubbed because of inclement weather.
“Everything is susceptible to weather conditions,” Mendez said. “That’s just part of the experience of flying in a cucumber.”
Farm-fresh-minded Amber West, in her days at Central 214, will be back behind the bar at Saturday’s benefit event.
It’s been way too long since the vivacious Amber West has loosed her earthy mixology mettle upon the world, but that’s all going to change on Saturday with Off To The FARM, an epicurean event benefitting Project Transformation, an education-oriented agency serving low-income kids throughout North Texas.
There will be goats. And aquaponics. And hors d’oeuvres from chefs like Hibiscus’ Graham Dodds, Garden Café’s Mark Wootten and Adam West of The Porch. And of course, drinks from Amber West, whose talents once shone behind the bar at Central 214 (where Dodds was chef) before she took a job as Texas rep for Vermont-based Caledonia Spirits.
Off to the FARM runs from 2 to 6 pm Saturday at 314 W. Belt Line in Desoto, just outside of Oak Cliff. The farm facility houses both FARM (Farmers Assisting Returning Military) and Eat The Yard.
Project Transformation, a non-profit education organization offering after-school and summer programs to low-income youth, is putting on the event in partnership with FARM. Participating chefs will create their hors d’oeuvres using the farm’s locally grown produce, and it’s a fair bet that Amber’s cocktails will include some of that fresh stuff, too: As bar manager at Central 214, she had a particular knack – and an undeniable passion – for highlighting seasonal fruits of the land in her cocktails. But then Caledonia stole her away, and then she became even busier still, taking time off to have her second daughter, Sage.
“I’ve supported Project Transformation for the last three years,” she says. “Being a mom, my heart just went out to these kids who don’t have anywhere to go after school. This really saves them from being on the streets.”
Some of West’s previous handiwork, this one for a 2013 Derby Day event.
And with part of Project Transformation’s curriculum including cooking and gardening workshops, she was sold.
West’s cocktails will celebrate springtime and complement the event’s Southern-style menu. And of course, they’ll feature Caledonia’s honey-kissed Barr Hill Gin. And probably herbs and honeysuckle too.
All proceeds will benefit Project Transformation. Tickets for the all-inclusive event are $35 in advance or $40 at the door and can be purchased here. More information is available here.
Christian Armando Guillen of Dallas’ Standard Pour, among a handful of U.S. bartenders competing in Wednesday’s Disaronno contest.
If you’ve ever seen bartender Christian Armando Guillen in action, you know how passionate he is about his craft – confident in manner, slightly intense with a burnish of flair. As lead barman at The Standard Pour in Uptown, he’s largely learned the ropes through observation and curiosity, with a particular talent for reining in sweeter flavors.
That has served him well, as he now has his first chance to compete on the national stage. Guillen, a 25-year-old native of Peru who came to Dallas 10 years ago (along with brother Daniel, another accomplished Dallas bartender), is headed to New York City today as the South Central regional winner of Disaronno’s Mixing Star International competition.
Guillen’s “Latino’s Legacy” cocktail was named the best submission among the region encompassing Texas, Oklahoma, Louisiana, Arkansas, Kansas and Missouri. He’ll go up against a half-dozen other regional champs for the chance to represent the U.S. in global competition — and to attend this summer’s Tales of the Cocktail festival in New Orleans.
Produced in Saronno, Italy (hence the name), Disaronno’s recipe is said to trace back to 1525, but it’s not an ingredient typically found on craft-cocktail menus. “It’s kind of the underdog of Italian liqueurs,” Guillen says.
The Mixing Star competition asks bartenders to create their version of the Disaronno Sour, a simple mix of Disaronno, simple syrup and lemon wildly popular in the 1970s (when simple and lemon would most likely have been some sort of sweet-and-sour mix). But the classic Amaretto Sour – which famed Portland mixologist Jeffrey Morgenthaler effectively fancies up with egg white and a bit of bourbon – has fallen by the wayside in today’s craft-cocktail renaissance, with bartenders generally shying away from sweeter liqueurs.
Some of that is reputation, since amaretto is known for its almond-sweet character. As a result, Disaronno is in the midst of a purposeful reinvention, attempting to shed its amaretto associations in hopes of reaching a more youthful audience. Sweet it is, though, with a syrupy texture: Britain’s Whiskey Exchange describes it as “showing marzipan or Battenburg cake flavors on the palate… This is definitely for anyone with a sweet tooth.”
However, Guillen is skilled at taming sweeter flavors and has found a way to harness Disaronno’s nutty properties toward good use. His winning drink merges Morgenthaler’s Amaretto Sour with the classic Godfather (basically Scotch and amaretto), outfitting a base of Cutty Sark Scotch whiskey with a healthy layer of Disaronno, lemon, orgeat, egg white, an apricot-vanilla-clove tincture and ornately applied Angostura bitters.
In more ways than one, Guillen’s Latino’s Legacy lives up to its name.
Scotch is another ingredient fairly absent from cocktail menus, its smoky or peaty flavors often too strong for American drinkers. “That was a challenge on my part,” Guillen says. “I wanted to use something bartenders aren’t comfortable using.”
In his native Peru, his father always had a bottle of Scotch around the house that would appear at Christmas or birthday gatherings. Cutty Sark’s toffee and maple notes, he says, work well with the Disaronno, which in turn enhances the whiskey: The drink is sweet, but in an endearing and not saccharine way, with a pleasant texture and smooth, slightly nutty flavor.
As Guillen conceived his cocktail, his father was undergoing some major health issues in Peru that have weighed heavy on his son 3,000 miles away. That partly influenced the cocktail’s name: While it refers partly to the drink’s Italian influences, it also reflects Guillen’s Spanish European origins – and his father’s influence on his own life. “I am his heritage, his legacy,” he says. “Whatever I’m doing, I wouldn’t be here without him.”
Wednesday evening, Guillen will make three of his cocktails in 10 minutes for the New York judges at bar No. 8, presenting each with a very European board of Mascarpone cheese, Marcona almonds, prosciutto and orange blossom honey.
“I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished,” he says. “It’s been more vision and passion than ambition. Everything follows. You’re going to deliver if you’re passionate enough.”
Guillen left for New York City today. “What a better opportunity than making my debut representing the place that saw me become who I am now doing what I love doing the most, bartending,” he said of his first-ever visit to the Big Apple. “Not gonna lie, I’m a bit nervous (weird right?) on how things will turn out in this national competition. I am sure of one thing though, I will do everything in my power to bring that victory home!”
Guillen’s winning cocktail: The full presentation.
At the Bacardi plant outside Mexico City, chocolatey treats nicely complemented the Mi Familia.
It’s a scene still in the nest, but you wouldn’t know it from the mob scene at Maison Artemisia, an old-timey-chic urban hideaway in Mexico City’s trendy Roma neighborhood. As befits the global metropolis of 8.8 million, the bar’s three-deep lines are plush with people from all over – but on this night, many are in Mexico City for the most recent episode in a series of cocktail and spirits conferences set in places around the world.
Tales of the Cocktail (TOTC) – the spirits-minded juggernaut behind the eponymous annual festival every summer in New Orleans – came to Mexico last week, its latest push to highlight up-and-coming mixology markets worldwide as the U.S.-led craft-cocktail renaissance continues to chart new terrain. It’s called Tales of the Cocktail on Tour, and like a pared-down version of its mammoth mothership in NOLA, the bartender-oriented event is a mix of workshops, distillery tours, networking, distributor-sponsored brunches and parties and the chance to visit the bars leading the local charge.
“We pick markets that we see bubbling up and shine a spotlight on them,” said TOTC founder Anne Tuennerman. “When we say we’re going to a city, people think, there must be something going on there.”
Some of the Tales contingent touring the city’s Plaza de la Constitucion.
The intent is to showcase each city’s potential for distributors and brand ambassadors and to enrich the local soil of knowledge with the wisdom and talents of industry veterans and experts like tiki writer Jeff “Beachbum” Berry and Esquire columnist David Wondrich. In turn, visiting bartenders gain insight into local ingredients and methods to take back home. Sponsor companies build brand loyalty. Ultimately, the rest of us get to drink better drinks in more places. Everybody wins.
The Tales on Tour gatherings are held in successive years before moving on to a new city, leaving the young bird to fly on its own. Mexico City is the third city to fall into the TOTC spotlight; Vancouver and Buenos Aires were before that. “What’s really cool is to see these cities after Tales has been there once,” said bar consultant Don Lee of Cocktail Kingdom, an online bar-implements and spirits literature seller. “They’re excited to grow.”
Having Tales come to Vancouver “was huge,” said bartender Dani Tatarin of the city’s Keefer Bar. “It gave us an extra push of publicity that people could see, and it highlighted the talents of people in the industry. Since then, we’ve kind of nurtured it along.”
The Mexico City attendees came from all over, from locals like Carlos Mendoza and Mauricio Hernandez of Podcast Borracho (“Drunken Podcast”) to a sizable posse from Guadalajara. There were bartenders from Austin, Key West, Miami, New York and Bellevue, Wash., cocktail writers from Seattle and Paris; groupies from Boston. Others came from countries like Puerto Rico, Brazil, Russia and Australia.
The Bacardi plant crew knocks out an assembly line of mojitos.
One afternoon, we piled into coaches for a tour of Bacardi’s Mexico plant in Cuautitlan Izcalli, an hour away from central Mexico City toward the state of Queretaro. Along the way, we rolled past graffiti’d embankments, homes with rooftop clotheslines and sprawling hillside communities before reaching the plant, where we found music, a carnivore’s lunch and, of course, mojitos and Cuba Libres. My favorite of the batch was La Familia, a well-rounded rumba of Bacardi, orange juice, Fino Sherry and sweet vermouth served in a coupe with a side of gooey, delicious chocolate-glazed popcorn or a slab of chocolate. It was a pleasingly perfect match.
In the facility’s musty, sweetly aromatic barrel storage warehouse, overhead misters moistened the air – and our hair. “It smells so good in here,” said bartender Juan Carlos Machuca of Guadalajara, where he’s creating cocktails for a new restaurant.
The next day brought a lineup of workshops and discussions, from the merits of sugar and modern bar technique to the pineapple as a symbol of hospitality and the “dark ages” of mixology (1958-1977), when convenience and quantity bested style and substance. “The Margarita suffered tremendously in the 1970s,” said writer Berry. “The blender was basically The Devil back then. It made life easier for bartenders.”
At Licoreria Limantour, the tart and savory Orange Is The New Black, with tequila, mezcal, carrot, kaffir lime, ginger and yellow lime.
Each night brought chances to sample Mexico City’s fairly new but mostly impressive craft-cocktail culture, sprouting primarily in the trendy Roma and Condesa neighborhoods. (That’s also true for mezcalerias, such as La Nacional and Sobrinos, that specialize in tequila’s smokier cousin.) Spirits like Diplomatico Rum and Chivas Regal sponsored special menus during Tales’ run and bartenders from around the world came to help staff the busy bar nights. In general, drinks ran about $6-12 U.S.
“Designer cocktails are still a very small niche,” said a local food and drink blogger who goes by the handle Gastronauta. “It’s growing, but slowly.”
In addition to Maison Artemisia and pair of rogue visits to mezcalerias, I was only to get to barely a half-dozen spots on Tales’ itinerary, including Baltra and Bar Lilit. These were my three favorites:
Licoreria Limantour, in the city’s Roma neighborhood.
LICORERIA LIMANTOUR, the city’s first real craft-cocktail bar when it opened three years ago. Next door to mezcal-minded Sobrinos in the Roma area, its two floors of well-crafted cocktails and dark elegance overlook busy Alvaro Obregon Avenue. Visiting mixologist Sebastian Gans’ of Paris’ Candelaria made one of my favorite cocktails of the week, the apricot-shaded Orange Is The New Black, with tequila, mezcal, carrot, kaffir lime, yellow lime and ginger. Even the shot-sized sangrita Gans made to complement a bit of straight tequila was outstanding, with mango, tomato, coriander, lime and chipotle.
Jules’ Basement, in the fancy Polanco neighborhood, was the city’s first speakeasy.
JULES’ BASEMENT, in the ritzy Polanco neighborhood, is a nicely conceived speakeasy below a Mexican restaurant accessed by what at first looks to be the door of the restaurant’s walk-in freezer. (There is a large, suited doorman outside. And a small hostess.) If you’re lucky enough to be on the list, the door will open, and the sound of thumping bass will signal the dark otherworld below. Down the stairs and you’re in a low-ceilinged, dance club atmosphere where able bartenders crank out house drinks and classics like the Cucaracha, Old Cuban and Mary Pickford. Overall, not typically my scene, but the drinks were well executed and the service was top-notch.
The dazzling Almond Old Fashioned at Bar Felina.
BAR FELINA: If I lived here, this low-key but classy refuge sited in the quirky, subdued Hipodromo neighborhood near Condesa would be my hang. There, Minneapolis transplant Jane Soli-Holt could be credited for one of the best Old Fashioneds I’ve had in some time – a beautifully presented Almond Old Fashioned made with Angostura 1919 rum, almond-cinnamon syrup, orange-allspice bitters, Angostura bitters and a thin curl or two of mulato pepper. Its sweetness spoke of depth rather than cloyingness. The bar’s casual vibe was accented by a DJ spinning classic vinyl dorm-room-style. It was more of a den in which to enjoy fine drinks and talk about big ideas than a place to see and be seen.
Beyond that, Mexico City itself was a sensory delight, from its plentiful in-city parks to the magnificence of the Palacio de Bellas Artes and the grandiosity of Plaza de la Constitucion. I enjoyed one of the best street-taco experiences ever at hole-in-the-wall Los Cocuyos, no doubt just the tip of the iceberg. It was easy and inexpensive to get around; Uber operates in Mexico City now along with worthwhile competitors, such as Yaxi. I loved how street-crossing was a constant game of Frogger, as equally well played by the elderly as the young; cars and people move in closer proximity on busy city streets than we are used to here. And one of the finest views in the city can be had from an eighth-floor café in the Sears Department store.
The Williams Grant & Sons party, conducted with typical understatedness.
But for cocktail fans, it’s good to know that you can visit the city and find a decent drink, a situation that in Tales’ wake seems only destined to improve.
“You have no idea how important this is to us,” said Philippe Zaigue, Mexico brand ambassador for Havana Club rum. “It’s allowed us to communicate to the world what we’re doing. And, it will give us the feedback we need to make things better.”
Like moths to a flame: A Mexican tradition finds its way to Dallas.
So, you’ve wowed your Fireball-drinking buddies with your superior knowledge of mezcal, tequila’s smoky and more exotic cousin. You’ve earned serious props for your appreciation of mezcal’s Scotch-like acquired taste. But dude: if you really want to prove yourself mas macho, try drinking mezcal the way it’s done in Oaxaca – with worm salt.
Among the benefits of the ongoing craft-cocktail renaissance has been the rising availability of mezcal, distilled from Mexico’s native maguey plant, a form of agave. Generations-old methods of artisan production – in which the plants’ hearts are roasted in pit ovens before the fermentation process, giving the spirit its distinctive smoky flavor – have spawned hundreds of choices, many of which you can now find in the U.S.
Typically it’s imbibed straight. Picture a tiny cup or shot of your beloved mezcal, served alongside a small plate of orange slices. Garnish those slices with a sprinkling of sal de gusano – a rust-colored powder of sea salt, ground chilies and the crushed remains of agave worms. Better yet, dip a slice into a bowl of the powder itself.
While you grimace, consider this: Despite the name, the worms aren’t actually worms. They’re the larvae of moths that start feeding on the hearts and leaves of the agave plant as soon as they’re born. In other words, they are living the life. Their brief and blissfully unaware existence comes to an end in late summer, when – in accordance with centuries-old tradition – they’re gathered up, dried in the sun and toasted, then pulverized along with sea salt and chilies to become the magical mix now before you.
These larvae sacrificed themselves for your mezcal enjoyment. Don’t disappoint them.
Back to your plate. Take a bite of powdered orange and your mouth explodes with sweet citrus, faint heat and a wallop of salt. It’s a zesty complement to the swig of smoky mezcal you’re about to inhale. But wait: There’s another flavor there, too, almost paprika-esque. It’s lovely and rounds out the mezcal perfectly.
“It’s savory,” says bartender Hector Zavala of Dallas’ Henry’s Majestic. “It has that flavor of umami.”
Yes, a bit of the worm-salt experience and you might just be calling for your mommy. But insect consumption is a longtime tradition in resource-challenged Oaxaca, where critters like grubs and crickets provide a cheap and plentiful source of protein. (I once sampled a plate of not-so-bad dried crickets at a Oaxacan hole-in-the-wall in Phoenix, sautéed with lime and chili and served with a side of tortillas. The biggest issue – the little legs that get caught between your teeth.)
Bartender Zavala’s spice powders, made from moth larvae and grasshoppers.
A few weeks ago, Zavala scored a shipment of sal de gusano from Mexican producer Gran Mitla; he’s now dishing it up Oaxaca-style at Henry’s Majestic and its speakeasy sidekick, Atwater Alley. (Appropriately, he serves it with Wahaka’s reposado mezcal, which incorporates the same agave worm.) At Uptown’s upscale Mexican place Komali, bar manager Leann Berry is pondering serving her recently obtained sal de gusano with mezcal flights, while you can also find it at Proof + Pantry in the Arts District, socked away in a Hefty bag labeled “grub salt.”
Zavala, of Henry’s Majestic, comes from the same small town in Mexico as fellow bartender Luis Sifuentes; they lived two miles apart but never met until they came to Dallas. Now both are among the badass bar crew assembled at Henry’s by beverage director Alex Fletcher. “Alex has a lot of trust in us,” says Zavala, who along with sal de gusano also procured a milder, sweeter powder of ground-up grasshoppers called sal de chapulin. “He lets us experiment and come up with our own ideas.”
Fletcher finds the whole thing intriguing. “(Hector) brought those in to play with,” he says, wheels already turning. “I think doing a worm-salt, citrus-based mezcal cocktail would be fantastic.”
That’s what a post on the site Mezcalistas.com suggests. In fact, its play on the classic Margarita is basically the orange-slice tradition rolled into a drink, replacing tequila and lime with mezcal and orange juice and then serving it in a worm-salt-rimmed glass.
At Atwater Alley, a worm-salt-rimmed cocktail from bartender Sifuentes.
At Atwater Alley, Sifuentes gave the cocktail concept a go, too, mixing mild Wahaka mezcal with Carpano Antica sweet vermouth and a bit of bitter Averna. Worm salt lined the glass. It was a respectable blend, but it could just be that the spices’ jaw-punch of salinity is too aggressive to play well in cocktails, at least in significant quantity. Still, there’s nothing wrong with having it the traditional way. Sometimes simplicity is best.
Maybe food is the most logical complement of all. In Austin, you’ll find worm-salt-accompanied mezcal at Takoba, along with slices of Oaxacan cheese. And at The Pastry War in Houston, you can get mezcal with a straight-up side of toasted grasshoppers. If that makes you shudder, start slow – with a bit of worm salt.
“Psychologically, that’s a hump I had to get over,” said Proof + Pantry bartender Mike Steele. “But it’s pretty good stuff.”
Maryland’s Ben Becker (visible onscreen at left) shakes things up for the judges.
They bounced shakers off forearms, caught glasses behind their backs and tossed liquor bottles around like jugglers’ pins. By night’s end, one of them had been crowned the best bartender of all — at least, that is, within the extensive, red-and-white-striped family of TGI Fridays, which held its 24th annual World Bartender Championship Thursday night at Dallas’ House of Blues. More than 8,000 TGI Fridays bartenders around the world had vied for the chance to be one of the night’s 10 finalists with a shot at the $10,000 top prize. The title-round air was abuzz, with the faces and names of the finalists plastered on walls, video screens and waveable flags for a wall-to-wall, cowbell-shaking crowd.
TGI Fridays’ horde-pleasing drinks – the global chain sells 3 million Long Island Teas a year – are well-known, but the Carrollton-based chain can also be credited with (or blamed for, depending) popularizing flair – the kind of theatrics associated with the Tom Cruise film Cocktail – when it started holding flair bartender contests in the mid-1980s.
The 10 finalists came from all over the world, including the U.K., Cyprus and the Philiippines.
While the World Bartender Championship, which started in 1991, emphasizes things like customer engagement, service and bartender knowledge (some of which had already been evaluated in a previous compulsory round) the practice of flair perseveres. Bryan Bonafacio of the Philippines sent a lime wedge airborne and caught it in a shaker behind his back before sliding it into a waiting cocktail. Fernando Soto of Illinois poured a drink into a glass that he’d perched on his forehead. Others pulled off moves too complicated to explain.
Along with lively banter (to that end, Peru’s Alexander Barrenechea was my favorite for his easy humor and likeability), some kept the bar-side judges entertained by putting them to work as drink shakers while they tended to other tasks, trying to stay within the given time limits. Each bartender had eight minutes to make five different drinks ordered from the company’s inventory of 100-plus cocktails, working to the sizzling guitars or thumpity-thump beats of their chosen playlists.
“It takes incredible discipline, focus and passion,” said Matt Durbin, the contest’s 1994 champ who is now TGI Fridays’ vice president of brand strategy and menu innovation. “We like to think that Fridays is the bedrock of bars. This allows us to recognize and celebrate our bartenders.”
Peru’s cheery Alexander Barrenechea had a certain air about him.
While flair is among the techniques bartenders can use to interact with guests, Durbin said judges prioritize “working flair,” moves that a bartender could actually incorporate into a busy shift rather than those unveiled for competition’s sake. The U.K.’s Russell Ward, for example, last year’s runner-up, was relatively no-frills compared to some but cranked out his drinks with smooth confidence, “You have to look like you do it every day,” he’d told me earlier. “Not like it’s just something you just practiced to do here.”
Where New Jersey’s Ram Ong fell on the spectrum was unclear. Like Ward, he was in the final round for the third time, and aside from bringing his own pineapple juice – in a pineapple, of course – he pulled off my favorite move of the night, catching a bottle of Grand Marnier tossed overhead on one forearm while balancing a second Grand Marnier bottle on the other forearm. But Ong’s theatrics undermined him in the end, his time elapsing before he could finish building his final cocktail.
Fans came from all over to support their favorite drink-slingers.
Meanwhile, Stavros Loumis of Cyprus, another third-timer who entered the evening in first place after a stellar effort in the compulsory round, saved a Cuba Libre order for last, starting the drink with just over a minute left in his session. Earlier, he’d told how a twist of lime elevated a simple rum and Coke into the classic cocktail, and now, as the seconds ticked away, he dared to position an ice-filled glass atop the flat end of a bar spoon, balancing the spoon’s other end on his forearm before pouring rum into the glass and finishing with time to spare.
In the end, third place went to the energetic, engaging Bonafacio, who may have coined the phrase “Don’t you panic; it’s organic;” while second again went to the U.K.’s Ward, who was also voted the fan favorite. Stavros was named champ, taking home a propeller-shaped trophy in addition to the prize money.
The annual competition also raises money for hunger-relief agency Feeding America, and TGI Fridays presented the organization with a $200,000 check midway through the final round.
Stavros Loumis took home top prize, so maybe Cyprus is where you should order your next Grey Goose Cooler.
Sherry, baby: Embrace your inner child with the RxPx.
There was a moment as I was savoring Remedy’s delicious RxPx cocktail when everything else became insignificant – any thoughts of calories, my tendency to shun “dessert-y” drinks, the bustling bar around me, the very fact that I was an adult – and I simply lapped up my ice cream like an 8-year-old kid. Such was the allure of Mate Hartai’s decadent drink, which perfectly suits the motif at recently opened Remedy on Lower Greenville Avenue.
Pedro Ximenez sherry is probably the richest player among the Spanish fortified wine’s many varieties, and its raisin-like notes make it a welcome garnish for vanilla ice cream. Hartai, the beverage master at Remedy and formerly of Libertine Bar, took that idea further, adding ice cream to an ounce of sherry and topping it with a balsamic cherry. The result is sinfully good. “It’s basically a Pedro Ximenez milk shake,” he says. “The three flavors play really well together, and then you have that cherry, and it’s, like – boom.”
Remedy’s approachable and unique bar program is inspired by the elegant soda fountains of the first half of the 20th century, before they settled into stuffy, Leave It To Beaver versions of themselves. And sodas (available straight-up) are the driving force behind Hartai’s compact, simply conceived drink menu, from its breezy highballs to the more adventurous wild cards and after-dinner treats like the RxPx.
The Oleomaize: Among the anchors of Remedy’s cocktail lineup.
At Libertine, Hartai’s wonkishly thoughtful enthusiasm for the craft made the neighborhood bar’s cocktail program an under-the-radar gem, so it’s not surprising to see him undertake Remedy’s mission with a similar zeal. The innovation here is the carbonated water itself, produced in a recirculating fountain that constantly roils the water to promote carbon dioxide absorption, which Hartai says gives it “the same level of carbonation as Topo Chico, if not better.”
The heightened fizz means Remedy’s bartenders can pump soda water into drinks without having to stir, which lets the drink retain more carbonation. In other words, upping the carbon levels itself becomes a mixing tool. (And skipping that step also means bartenders can theoretically get your drink to you faster. So there’s that.)
For the most part the cocktails pack a light-handed punch, the very definition of soft drinks to complement Remedy’s hearty comfort dishes like fried bologna sandwiches and chicken pot pie. But while the lineup has little to echo the obvious heft of, say, a Sazerac, its soda-jerk pep offers a spirited diversion.
Hartai and his Mustachio.
Among the highlights: The French-75-like Bitter Lemon, with Meyer lemon syrup meeting gin, sparkling wine and the herbal bitter Suze; the sturdy Oleomaize, Hartai’s twist on a classic Corn and Oil employing dark rum and lime syrup in its Cuba Libre-like favor, and the playful Mustachio, whose white-chocolate shavings begin to descend into the drink about halfway through to be straw-slurped along with rye, cacao and an orgeat syrup made from pistachio and pumpkin seeds. And the fantastic spiced apple soda is one worth having on its own. “It’s like Christmas in a glass,” my pleasantly surprised friend Hollie said.
The mindfully seasonal menu is about to undergo a revamp with ingredients like Meyer lemons going out of season, but Remedy sports a sufficiently good foundation to ensure that happy days will be around for some time. The warmer weather to come should prove an ideal setting for soda drinks to shine. Not to mention sherry milkshakes.
In Twenty Seven, I found Nirvana. And the Doors, Joplin and Hendrix, too. The recently debuted Deep Ellum restaurant from “underground dinner” purveyor David Anthony Temple has been open barely a month, but it’s not just the food that may take a little piece of your heart.
Twenty Seven’s compact bar, with barely a handful of stools, assumes the spotlight late Saturdays when the place burns the midnight lamp as XXVII Antique, with live lounge music from 11:30 pm to 2 am. But with a solid, just-launched cocktail menu from bar manager Moses Guidry, it shouldn’t be overlooked anytime.
“It’s a classic cocktail menu to go with the mystique of the place, the energy,” says Guidry, who works most nights at the Front Room Tavern at the Hotel Lumen near SMU. “(Twenty Seven) definitely has that classic, speakeasy vibe.”
The restaurant operates Thursday through Saturday, with four tasting menus and two seating times nightly. The space nicely reflects Temple’s animated, stylishly gonzo personality, from the dining room’s vintage touches to the barrage of art paraphernalia honoring rock icons Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin and Kurt Cobain – all lost to the world at age 27 – in the restrooms and adjacent corridor.
Twenty Seven recalls the iconic rockers of the so-called 27 Club.
Aside from a classic Old Fashioned and a slightly altered Aviation, Guidry’s drinks are off the beaten path, appealing to the earnest imbiber. Vodka is nowhere to be seen. Instead, there are variations on lesser known gems like the martini-esque Ford Cocktail and the A La Louisiane, a cousin of the Vieux Carre.
Guidry’s Smoke Ring, an agave-based spin on the Pisco Sour, is especially notable. Subbing mezcal and tequila for milder pisco, it enlivens the standard mix of simple syrup, lime, egg white and bitters with bracing cucumber. Cool and smooth with the faintest bit of smoky heat, it’s offered with a swirl of Peychaud’s bitters and a sea-salt-sprinkled jalapeno coin to entertain the eyes and nose. “It’s just a great way to introduce mezcal to people who haven’t had it or who think it’s too intense in other cocktails they’ve tried,” Guidry says.
The hardy A La Louisiana is another standout, pumping up the rye quotient and adding chocolate bitters to A La Louisiane’s classic formula of Benedictine, sweet vermouth and a bit of absinthe. The shade of summer tea, it breathes of orange peel and cocoa, with a warm rye finish tame enough to break on through to most palates. “I’m not a bourbon drinker, but I could drink that,” said the foxy lady sitting to my right.
A La Lousiana: For the La. Woman in you.
Less successful during one visit was the Night Rider, a bold after-dinner-style cocktail that marries the herbaceous French bitter liqueur Suze with an espresso-infused Cynar (an Italian artichoke-flavored bitter) and an attending party of vermouth, orange juice, egg white, vanilla extract and chocolate bitters. However, its potential was lost in a purple haze of aggressive coffee.
The list also features the Ford’s Cocktail, a blend of the longstanding Ford and Vancouver cocktails, but done with Ford’s gin; meanwhile, the Aviation sports the sweet Luxardo cherry liqueur and eschews the usual lavender Crème de Violette altogether. In all, there are 10 drinks on the menu, but that will grow by several in the coming weeks and rotate when called for.
“We’re going to keep it seasonal,” Guidry says. “David’s got the freshest ingredients in the kitchen, so clearly we’re going to use those at the bar as well.”
The drink list currently stands at nine but in time will likely hover around a dozen. Among the additions will be the Purple Reyes, which will light your whiskey fire with bourbon, ancho chile liqueur, Cynar, cherry liqueur and chocolate bitters.
Actress Norma Shearer shares a drink with a suspicious Conrad Nagel in Robert Z. Leonard’s 1930 film “The Divorcee.” (Photo courtesy of John Kobal Foundation/Getty Images)
If you’re looking for a starring role in whatever Oscars watching party you’re headed to on Sunday, you could do worse than to come armed with cocktails.
Need direction? Maybe you’re a do-it-yourselfie, determined to devise a cocktail menu that plays off this year’s Best Picture nominees. Here are some modest tongue-in-cheek suggestions:
THE BIRDMAN: A play on the Aviation, but with a handlebar mustache garnish. Like the film’s title character, this once famous star built his legend around flight – then, years later, fights in vain to achieve misguided respectability.
THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL: A swig of Zwack, the Hungarian herbal liqueur, poured through an ice luge into the drinker’s mouth, which in honor of Wisconsin-born Willem Dafoe – is furiously chased by a beer.
THE FLIPLASH: A tequila flip with a tiny cymbal garnish – and in deference to the subject of the film Whiplash, a smattering of beets to help keep rhythm.
THE ROB-ROY-HOOD: This take on the classic Rob Roy isn’t meant to be consumed. Instead, like the subject of Boyhood, it’s meant to be watched, getting progressively older before your very eyes.
THE AMERICAN SNIPER: A lethal shot of overproof rum, of course.
OK, maybe not.
Plenty of other nominees abound, from the classic Los Angeles cocktail to the actor-inspired list of drinks recently featured by Liquor.com from beverage consultant Brian Van Flandern’s book, Celebrity Cocktails.
The best way to show your achievement in sound mixing, though, might be to whip up the cocktail served to the stars themselves at the Governor’s Ball following the star-studded awards ceremony. That would be the Scot’s Pear, among the items featured this week at a sampling of the annual feast’s menu conducted by various Wolfgang Puck Catering operations around the U.S., including Dallas.
The Scot’s Pear: Make this drink and soon all your guests will be delivering acceptance speeches.
Wolfgang Puck Catering is marking its 21st year planning the annual post-Oscars feast, and the preview spread, held at Reunion Tower’s Cloud Nine, featured the drink alongside treats like mini Wagyu beef burgers and chicken pot pie.
A winning blend of premium Johnnie Walker Platinum Label whiskey, tawny port, ginger syrup, pear/lemongrass puree and lemon, the Scot’s Pear’s apple-like sweetness, tinged with hints of citrus and spice, nicely balanced the whiskey and kept it from going all Robert Benigni over everything.
SCOT’S PEAR
1.5oz Johnnie Walker Platinum Label
.25oz Tawny Port
1oz Pear Juice
.75oz Ginger Syrup
.75oz Lemon Juice
Shake and strain into a double Old Fashioned glass. Garnish with a piece of candied ginger.
Liquor.com’s list includes the most intriguing House of Friends, a nod to actor George Clooney and his partnership in Casamigos tequila – a mix of tequila, Yellow Chartreuse, Cointreau, agave and lime. (Coincidentally, Matt Orth at Dallas’ LARK on the Park last year crafted an excellent, similarly named drink that also featured Casamigos, an approximation of the Spanish words for the same phrase.)
Courvoisier cognac has also thrown together a few cocktails to recommend for the occasion. The most interesting of them is probably The Talented Mr. Cooper, a nod to Bradley Cooper’s Best Actor nomination for American Sniper.
THE TALENTED MR. COOPER
1 ½ oz Courvoisier VSOP
½ oz Cherry Heering
6 black cherries
Dash of gomme (you can use simple syrup)
Soda water
Mint garnish
Muddle five cherries in a shaker, then add the Courvoisier, Cherry Heering and syrup. Shake well and strain into an ice-filled rocks glass. Top with soda and garnish with a sprig of mint and a single cherry.
An unforgettable cocktail launched an unforgettable year: Martensen’s Apple Boilermaker.
It was the best of times, it was the thirst of times, and 2014’s constantly unfolding craft-cocktail kaleidoscope unfurled a spirited array of events for DFW’s imbiberati. Here’s a look back at the year’s top stories:
Campbell and Martensen: Spittin’ spirited rhymes at Abacus for all too brief a time.
JANUARY: Eddie “Lucky” Campbell and Michael Martensen together behind the bar at Abacus
From darkness, light: For a brief but glorious time, the chaos set in motion by Eddie “Lucky” Campbell’s displacement from the late Chesterfield and Michael Martensen’s abrupt exit, along with his bar team, from Bar Smyth and The Cedars Social actually set the stage for two of the city’s most talented and influential bar men to pair up behind the bar at Abacus. The two have a longstanding rivalry – “I’m Seabiscuit and he’s War Admiral,” Campbell once told me. “I’m hard working, and he’s a fucking genetic miracle” – that continued to unfold at Abacus to customers’ benefit, especially late, once the kitchen had closed. One evening we rolled in and the two went back and forth like b-boys, throwing down cocktail creations to put each other’s to shame until Martensen slipped off to a corner to focus on a bit of handiwork. “What’s he doing over there?” Campbell wondered with his sly smile. Martensen emerged with what you see at top: A frothy apple boilermaker made with Deep Ellum Blonde, Cointreau, apple brandy, whole egg and a hollowed-out half-eggshell cupping a whiskey shot. Boss.
Libertine’s influential former head barman doing his thing.
MAY: Mate Hartai says goodbye to The Libertine Bar
For years, Hartai — chief barman at Remedy, opening tonight –was synonymous with the Libertine, which he helped transform from solid neighborhood bar to a den of craft-cocktail prowess and innovation. But after five years at the Libertine, Hartai decided it was finally time to move on to other things – namely The Cold Standard, the craft ice business he’s been shaping for some time – and most recently, Remedy, the new Lower Greenville project from HG Sply owner Elias Pope.
The Dallas crew, clockwise from upper right: Hartai, Brian McCullough and Charlie Moore; Bonnie Wilson, Trina Nishimura and Julian Pagan; Josh MacEachern and Josh Hendrix.
JULY: Texas Tiki Throwdown at Tales of the Cocktail, New Orleans
The DFW presence at the spirit industry’s biggest annual gathering has gotten larger and larger, with dozens of bartenders and spirit reps on hand for 2014’s event. Among the festival’s kickoff happenings was the Texas Tiki Throwdown, where DFW drink-slingers went mano-a-mano with others from Houston, Austin and San Antonio. It’s fair to say everyone left the conference room with Lone Stars in their eyes.
Um, this.
JULY: Driftwood introduces an oyster shooter flight
They say the world is your oyster, but sometimes oysters are your world: This little bit of brilliance from Oak Cliff’s disappointingly defunct seafood establishment briefly brightened up my existence. Four oysters on the half-shell, each shell filled upon consumption with one of four spirits or liqueurs: Manzanilla sherry, mezcal, single malt whiskey and Pernod. Let bivalves be bivalves!
Out of the wilderness, a mysterious elixir.
AUGUST: Hendricks Gin’s Kanaracuni unveiling
Dallas was one of a handful of cities this summer in which Hendricks Gin chosed to unveil its rare Kanaracuni gin, a single-batch production made from a plant culled from the Venezuelan rainforest. Hendricks knows how to put on an event, and the fancifully exotic tasting, conducted at the Dallas Zoo, did not disappoint: Bordering on elaborate fantasy, it featured tales of adventure and large insects and finally samples of the amazing kumquat-flavored gin, which in intentionally ephemeral fashion shall never be seen again.
Josh Maceachern, among Michael Martensen’s reunited bartending crew at Proof + Pantry.
AUGUST: Parliament and Proof + Pantry open
As noted above, Lucky Campbell and Michael Martensen’s longstanding rivalry can occasionally reach ridiculous proportions, so it was only logical that their two long-awaited projects would open on the same night — Parliament in Uptown, and Proof + Pantry in the Arts District. (“How ridiculous is that?” Campbell told me a couple of nights before the big event.) Both have met expectations, garnering local and national acclaim.
Everything is illuminated: The new gem in Dallas’ cocktail scene.
OCTOBER: Midnight Rambler opens
Behind their Cuffs and Buttons consulting enterprise, cocktail masters Chad Solomon and Christy Pope have long been influences in DFW’s drinking scene, but it wasn’t until this fall that Midnight Rambler, the bar the two have long dreamed of opening, launched at the Joule Hotel. The swanky subterranean palace and its lineup of well-conceived libations take the city to another level, marking another step in its craft-cocktail evolution.
Venerable barman Charlie Papaceno: No longer tilting at the Windmill.
NOVEMBER: Charlie Papaceno leaves the Windmill Lounge
After nine years at the landmark lounge he co-founded with Louise Owens, Papaceno left the venerable dive spot to pursue plans to open a new bar in Dallas’ Cedars neighborhood. One of the scene’s elder statesmen, Papaceno’s bespectacled mug was a steady presence behind the bar at Windmill, which became an early haven for Dallas’ budding craft-bartender scene and went on to garner national attention – including a nod as one of Esquire’s best American bars.
Slinging tiki drinks at one of five pop-up bars at Henry’s epic Trigger’s Toys benefit. (Mary Christine Szefzyk)
DECEMBER: Trigger’s Toys annual benefit event featuring five pop-up bars
I was crushed to miss this epic event, which made use of the long-unused warren of space at recently opened Henry’s Majestic in the Knox-Henderson area. Five pop-up bars featuring teams of bartenders from DFW and beyond went all out to raise money for a Dallas charity serving hospitalized kids. From sports bar and tiki bar to country saloon and nightclub, it was a raucous party that garnered $100,000 for the cause.
ONGOING: Collectif 1806’s bartender book club events
The bartender education and support arm of Remy Cointreau USA, helmed locally by Emily Perkins, has helped remind that the whole craft-cocktail thing is less revolution than revival. At its periodic exclusive book club gatherings, bartenders page through some of Cointreau’s extensive collection of vintage cocktail tomes, perusing recipes and gleaning old knowledge and then passing the reaped benefits along to consumers. Everybody wins.
Booze news and adventures in cocktailing, based In Dallas, Texas, USA. By Marc Ramirez, your humble scribe and boulevardier. All content and photos mine unless otherwise indicated. http://typewriterninja.com
