Ever since leaving their native Peru to come to Dallas 15 years ago, bartenders Armando and Daniel Guillen have never stopped paying tribute to their motherland – or their mother. Recalling the struggles she overcame as a divorced single mom to see them prosper in adulthood helps put the strain of the pandemic in perspective.
“She taught us to fight, to go on,” said Armando, who along with older brother Daniel ultimately rose to become part of the forefront of Dallas’ craft-cocktail scene over the last decade. “Anytime I thought about how bad we had it…. She had it 10 times worse.”
Over the last two weeks, the Guillens have devoted their energies to Rosario, which besides being their mother’s name is also the name of the speakeasy-style South American pop-up they’ve created at Bourbon and Banter, in downtown’s Statler Hotel. In the process, they’ve briefly infused life and Latin verve into the subterranean cocktail lounge, which has been closed since the shutdown began.
The brothers had mere days to design their theme and menu, which they hammered out in typically heated fashion, or what Armando describes “the usual dynamic arguments between Peruvian A and Peruvian B.”
But the biggest battle, he said, was what to call the pop-up. The two considered Peruvian heroes or other South American figures, but none of the names seemed right (“It’s like naming your son,” Armando says) until Armando finally stepped back and said to Daniel: Well, why not Rosario?
“I thought, ‘If you gonna fight me over your mother’s name, I’m gonna punch you,’” he said.
And so, Rosario the pop-up was born. The event is into its final three days, but it’s proved so popular that an extension may be imminent.
Five years have passed since the brothers first slung drinks together behind a bar – that was at a Jameson Black Barrel event at Uptown’s Standard Pour, in 2015 – and it’s great to see them practicing their cocktail handicraft again. Even at that event, their mother played a role, with Daniel’s DeRosario cocktail rounding out its Irish whiskey base with sweet vermouth and a pair of Italian bitter liqueurs.
Their ongoing pop-up is into its third week, and among its standout drinks is the luscious Chicha Tu Madre, whose name mischievously plays off a Spanish-language insult but actually references the housemade chicha morada within.
Slightly sweet with the spice of mulled wine, chicha morada – made from Peruvian purple corn – is among the bottled or jarred products the Guillens now offer as part of their just-launched product line, under the brand name El Cantinero. (Yes, they’ve kept themselves busy in spite of the shutdown.)
The cocktail is built on a base of Maker’s Mark bourbon, along with pineapple, lime and barrenwort (otherwise known as horny goat weed). A garnish of salted canchita – a corn-nut like snack made from chulpe corn – lounges on a banana-leaf carpet. “It has very humble roots,” Armando says. “Bourbon and chicha are both made from corn, so this is trying to form that bonding bridge between North and South America.”
The Buenos Aires Menyul – a phonetic spelling of a South American Spanish speaker’s pronunciation of “mint julep” — is another gem, playing off Argentina’s obsession with the Italian bitter Fernet. “They love Fernet and Coke in Argentina,” Armando notes. “They love bitter.”
The foundation of this delicious julep is Cynar, an Italian bitter less aggressive than Fernet, along with the Guillens’ own grapefruit cordial and Peruvian chuncho bitters.
Along with bar bites like grilled octopus and an aged steak with chimichurri sauce, the Guillens have outfitted Bourbon and Banter with South American touches and a Latin music soundtrack. “It’s fun to work with your brother for a night,” Daniel quipped. “But to be in close (quarters) for nearly a month…” He play-rolled his eyes and then was off into the speakeasy darkness, to whip up another drink.
It’s clear that the brothers’ current effort comes from the heart. No doubt Mom would be proud.
“We have to give a little bit of ourselves in everything we do,” Armando said. “So why not just give it our all?”
Four years ago, the guys behind a pioneering pair of Dallas cocktail bars were a year into their follow-up venture producing a line of bottled cocktails they hoped could quench consumers’ appetite for drinks without sacrificing quality – and that might eventually prove profitable.
“It’s just crack and pour,” Rocco Milano said then. “That’s the beauty of OTR, brother.”
OTR stands for On The Rocks, and the operation is anything but after being acquired this week by Beam Suntory Inc., the Chicago-based, global liquor giant that wields Jim Beam, Maker’s Mark, Knob Creek, Laphroaig, Yamazaki and Hibiki among its portfolio – and those are just the whisk(e)ys. Terms of the deal were not disclosed.
“It has been a hell of a ride and I am so excited for all that the future holds!” Milano wrote in a Facebook post announcing the news. “So happy to be part of the BSI family!”
The jovial one-time theology major from Santa Cruz, Calif., was among the Dallas craft-cocktail scene’s early luminaries as it blossomed in the early 2010s, emerging from The Mansion at Turtle Creek to preside over the two well-regarded Uptown restaurant bar programs.
After both sites ran their course, Milano joined Barter owner Patrick Halbert and Andrew Gill, Halbert’s cousin, in an effort to design a line of ready-to-drink cocktails. Pre-mixed drinks were a fast-growing playing field at the time, and On The Rocks would soar, winning acclaim in the process.
Their venture wasn’t by design. The three initially planned to open a distillery as Barter plowed through its final days, but when some Virgin Airlines bigwigs came by the place to celebrate the airline’s Love Field debut in late 2014, an offhand remark by one of them – something to the effect of, “These drinks are so good, I wish we could have them on planes” – set their wheels spinning.
That led to more serious talks, then intros to other airlines, a crash course in bottled-cocktail science and plenty of their own capital. They started out in a bare-bones warehouse near Love Field that resembled like a chemistry grad students’ enclave, with bottles, beakers, cylinders and pipettes.
As the group gained notice and eventually a minority interest from Beam Suntory, their bottled cocktails – some of them classics, others Milano’s own creations – began to bear familiar Beam Suntory names, like a Mai Tai featuring Cruzan rum, a Hornitos tequila Margarita or a Knob Creek whiskey Old Fashioned.
“On the Rocks is the pioneer in the premium pre-mixed cocktails category, and joining forces couldn’t come at a better time,” Albert Baladi, president & CEO of Beam Suntory, said in a press release announcing the acquisition. “On The Rocks is perfectly positioned to address evolving consumer preferences, including convenience, quality, the emerging home-premise, and cocktails-to-go.”
According to the release, Halbert and Milano will continue to play roles with the brand.
“On The Rocks is extremely proud of what we’ve accomplished and the leadership position we’ve built in this rapidly growing sector over the last five years,” Halbert said. “We are thrilled to join the Beam Suntory family…. We’re confident that this is just the beginning.”
DFW, you finally bested me. There was no way to keep up with
the flurry of craft cocktails springing forth from the minds of the metropolis’
mix masters in 2019, with newcomers like Deep Ellum’s Ebb & Flow, Las
Palmas in Uptown, downtown’s Te Deseo and The Charles in the Design District
padding the bounty.
On Fitzhugh, La Viuda Negra executed a Thor-like landing with its urban-Mexico-inspired vibe and a lineup of smartly conceived drinks both agave-centric and photogenic, while Eddie Campbell’s Clover Club debuted with swanky swagger above Cedar Springs in Uptown.
There was seemingly little left under the sun to drive innovation, but surprises flourished nonetheless: At Bourbon and Banter, Hugo Osorio’s Ducktail softened Scotch with sweet citrus while his Liberty Spikes fluttered with coyly bittersweet flavor; both (see photo above) were among my favorite drinks of the year.
At Proper in Fort Worth, so was Lisa Adams’ Pandan Swizzle, which blended the nuttiness of amontillado sherry with the sweetness of its lovely signature herb. At Five Sixty, the always-crafty James Slater also employed pandan in his Paper Crane, a smooth twist on the classic Paper Plane, while Midnight Rambler’s Chad Solomon medicated his absinthe-laden Seasick Crocodile with poblano juice and Thai chile.
At Homewood on Oak Lawn, golden beet and orange leapt like dolphins across an sea of gin in Lauren Festa’s Golden Amaranth, while in Plano, there was definitely Something About Rosemary in Whiskey Cake’s nicely balanced drink of the same name. The Spanish Gin & Tonic at Beverley’s was nothing less than sublime, while in Knox-Henderson, Alex Fletcher’s Inca Knife Fight conquered my palate with coconut Pisco Sour flair.
Rounding out my year’s faves: At Ruins in Deep Ellum, Peter Novotny’s impressive Sierra Outkast — a nod to tiki’s Navy Grog — blended Oaxacan gin and rum with Swedish aquavit and garnished it with tri-color coconut candy. Meanwhile, La Viuda Negra made Mexican magic with the dazzling Purple Drink, featuring Michoacan rum and butterfly pea flower, and the terrific, raicilla-based El Papazote.
The decade saw craft cocktails grow from infancy to maturity in D-FW, led by The Usual in Fort Worth (which just marked its 10th anniversary) and then scattered, early Dallas pioneers like The Cedars Social, Victor Tangos, Bolsa, Private/Social, Windmill Lounge, Black Swan Saloon and The People’s Last Stand, along with Whiskey Cake in Plano. As our palates grew more discerning and adventurous, the quality and quantity of spirits, liqueurs and exotic ingredients grew to meet the demand. And as momentum slowed as talent scattered and pioneering bars fell by the wayside, top-notch newcomers rose up to create new energy, such as Las Almas Rotas in Fair Park; Jettison in West Dallas; Hide, Shoals Sound & Service and Ruins in Deep Ellum.
Bartenders crafted ingredients using chef-driven methods like sous vide and molecular gastronomy; others introduced us to Japanese shochu and sake, Spanish sherries and Mexico’s broad palette of agave-based spirits; we saw cocktails garnished with seaweed and tongue-numbing buzz button; we nibbled on roasted grasshoppers while sipping mezcal.
The community itself became a force, too: We saw the local bar and spirits industry come together to raise thousands of dollars for tornado and hurricane relief, for hospitalized kids and for the medical expenses of those in their own bar community family. In 2018, the scene collectively grieved the loss of three beloved barmen, Armoury’s Chad Yarbrough, Ian Brooks of Brick and Bones and Josh Meeks of Henry’s Majestic. And we saw the industry’s women in DFW become a force for change and advancement, with efforts such as The Shake Up, an all-female competition now in its second year raising money for women’s charities.
You’ve come a long way, DFW. Likewise, my tastes have changed, and over time I grew to appreciate drinks I hadn’t ranked so highly in the past or to reconsider others that I had. Looking back, about 40 of them stood out for their creativity, innovation, timeworn allure, and/or that one ingredient I couldn’t stop thinking about. In the spirit of the New Year, here, in alphabetical order, are my favorite 20 DFW cocktails of the last decade.
Jenkins, resident mixmaster at Deep Ellum’s Hide, killed it in 2018 with his Oaxacan Shaman, a masterful mezcal-aguardiente mashup, and his lusciously butternutty Quest for the Sun, a sunflower-seed-infused vodka vehicle. But my favorite of all was his Alpine Blues: A whirlwind trip to the mountains had filled him with memories of brisk, chilly air and damp ground covered in foliage. Those longings inspired this reflection of nature’s growth: Nux walnut liqueur, he said, formed the base soil, deep and rich with decomposing nettles; blueberry-influenced Pasubio, an alpine bitter liqueur, was the surface – “earthy and fruity; there’s still some life in it;” Cap Corse, a quinine aperitif, and clarified lemon juice represented new growth, with the bitter citrus of biting into a young stem; Singani 63, a botanical Bolivian brandy, was the blossom. “There were specific slopes and colors in my mind,” he says. “It made me have the blues not to be there.”
AUTUMN IN BRAZIL – Jason Pollard, The Usual (2018)
In 2016, Brazil’s national spirit enjoyed a brief moment in the D-FW sun, with drinks such as Spencer Shelton’s wonderful Rio Julep at Bolsa capitalizing on Amburana’s spiced banana bread notes. Two years later at The Usual, the Magnolia Avenue mainstay in Fort Worth, Pollard built on those caramel, vanilla flavors and added the rich nuttiness of sherry, then rounded it out with Cocchi di Torino sweet vermouth and caramel-esque demerara syrup. With hints of raisin, chocolate and cinnamon and the aroma of musky grapes, this was a sensational seasonal sipper.
By 2013, the scene had seen the rise of its first reservations-only cocktail den with Bar Smyth, which along withe People’s also featured one of the finest compilations of behind-the-bar talent ever seen in Dallas. There was no menu at this dimly lit, short-lived Knox-Henderson speakeasy, so maybe I actually waltzed in and asked YeeFoon, now co-owner of Shoals Sound & Service in Deep Ellum, to make something with aquavit, Scandinavia’s caraway-flavored liqueur. More likely it was something that YeeFoon just happened to be playing with that day. Whatever it was, this frothy number, employing Averna and an egg-white canvas, inspired lasting intrigue with its splash of sarsaparilla and a creative touch of soft sesame on the nose.
Planted at the bar of this redo of Uptown’s pioneering Private/Social, I pretty much went bonkers trying to decipher the Black Monk’s enigmatic flavor. The smoky-flavored drink was tricky to pin down, greater than the sum of its parts: Brown blended Jameson Black Barrel Reserve Irish Whiskey, bittersweet Averna, the honey-ish Benedictine and a bit of rye-and-sarsaparilla-flavored basement bitters with a tincture made with tonka bean, vanilla bean and lemongrass. Every time I tried it, shoe leather images popped into my head, but in a most comforting way: The notes shuffing across my tongue included molasses, root beer, pecan pie, cooked honey, even smoky flan. The Black Monk was not for everyone – but for those who enjoy a good cigar, this one was a triumph.
BUZZ-CAT – staff at Boulevardier (2015)
Old
Tom gin, Earl Grey tea-infused honey syrup, apple bitters, lemon, ginger, baked
apple garnish
The craft-cocktail renaissance inspired a resurgence of classic spirits, among them Old Tom gin, the spirit’s 18th-century, slightly sweeter cousin. My favorite is the barrel-aged Tom Cat, made by Vermont’s Barr Hill, a former bee farm that infuses its spirits with a signature honey flavor. Tom Cat also happens to be sold in distinctive, small bottles that were just the size that bar manager Eddie Eakin of Bishop Arts’ Boulevardier wanted for his syrups and juices. He ordered a batch of Tom Cat for his bartenders, who began subbing it for standard gin in the Steep Buzz, a celebrated cocktail Eakin had devised in 2013. With a baked apple slice garnish, the Buzz-Cat was a honey-perfect blend of autumny, apple-pie aroma, herbal Tom Cat spice and lingering lemon-ginger bite. “We were just trying to pour through it,” bartender Ashley Williams said. “And it just caught on.”
DAMNED AND DETERMINED – Brad Bowden, Parliament (2014)
Bowden, who you’ll find these days at East Dallas’ Lounge Here, didn’t care much for Ancho Reyes, the ancho-chile-flavored liqueur that became my crush of 2014, following in the footsteps of botanical Hum and bitter Suze. But when the slightly spicy, vanilla-tinged blend started earning national recognition, Bowden — then at Uptown’s Parliament — said he felt “damned and determined” to do something with it. Ancho’s bite made it a natural fit for tequila or mezcal, “but that’s what everyone else was doing,” he says (accurately). Instead, he took rum, his preferred spirit, and devised what’s essentially a tiki drink, adding sweetly vegetal Green Chartreuse to Papa’s Pilar blonde – “Rum and Green Chartreuse go together like nobody’s business,” he says – along with egg white and a tropical pineapple-vanilla syrup. The egg white gives the ancho a soft bed to lie on; the syrup binds it all together. A last flourish of Angostura bitters atop makes it a magic carpet ride, frothy and floral with a sweet and spicy descent.
DOUBLE UNDER – Emily Arseneau, H&G Sply (2013)
Beet-infused tequila, triple sec, citrus, rosemary syrup, salt
Who doesn’t love beets? Okay, a lot of people doesn’t love beets. But properly speaking, for those of us who do, this radiant refresher ably answers the call – a simple mix of lively beet-infused tequila, lime and rosemary syrup. Arseneau – now with liquor giant Remy Cointreau – modified this creation by Portland’s Jacob Wallace for the drink list at Lower Greenville’s H&G Sply, toying with the proportions and adding Cointreau; “it’s supposed to be an earthier Margarita that never feels out of season,” she says. The taste is sour beet moxie and tangy lime, with a slight hint of herb. Unabashedly red with a flirty half-skirt of glittery salt, it was a stunner to look at, too.
EL PAPAZOTE – Saul Avila Hernandez, La Viuda Negra (2019)
Raicilla, lime, sherry, epazote syrup
Brothers Javier and Luis Villalva’s La Viuda Negra (“The Black Widow”) on Fitzhugh was my favorite addition to the scene in 2019, with a modern rustic interior and delicious cocktails both inventive and sometimes whimsically presented. My favorite of the bunch was El Papazote, which achieved magnificence with its crafty use of funky raicilla, an agave-based spirit still uncommon beyond its native state of Jalisco. Avila gave La Venenosa’s Costa de Jalisco the sweet-and-sour treatment with lime, a dash of sherry and a syrup made with epazote, a leafy herb found in southern Mexico that accents the raicilla’s fruity-floral earthiness.
FLEUR DE FEU – Austin Millspaugh, The Standard Pour (2017)
Elderflower liqueur, green chile liqueur, Angostura bitters, cream
At Uptown’s Standard Pour, this creamy off-menu creation, with a name meaning “flower of fire,” was a low-proof treat, a deceptively sweet drink that actually leaned savory. Millspaugh, whose penchant for cocktail alchemy had previously produced a nifty Cognac spin on the classic gin Bijou, was once again inspired: He mixed St. Germain and Ancho Reyes liqueurs with Angostura bitters and poured them into a nifty Nick and Nora glass, then topped it all with a thin layer of cream that he torched it for a burnt marshmallow effect. The result unveiled a stunning contrast between the foamy top and wine-clear body below; the creamy fats lent texture and depth to a bouquet of floral and spicy flavors with smoky overtones. “You think it’s going to be sweet, but your notions are debunked the second you sip it,” he said.
MADAME HUMMINGBIRD – Lauren Festa, Flora Street Cafe (2016)
Vodka, botanical liqueur, honey-piquillo syrup
Way back when Rocco Milano helmed the bar at Private/Social, may it rest in peace, he introduced me to Hum, a remarkably profuse hibiscus cordial offering notes of cardamom, clove, ginger and kaffir lime. A love affair was born; I couldn’t get enough of the stuff, and though the fling ran its course, it was always good to see an old flame. At Stephan Pyles’ then-newly opened (and now newly closed) downtown restaurant, that’s how Festa –now at Homewood — lured me in; her flower-garnished cocktail let sturdy Absolut Elyx act as handler, reining in Hum’s exuberance, but the real dash of brilliance was a chili syrup that added a tantalizing jolt of heat. “Hum and heat go well together,” she said. “It brings out the spices.”
MALTA – James Slater, Network Bar (2017)
Italian bitter liqueur, French bitter ginger liqueur, turbinado sugar syrup, blackberries
Several years earlier, when Slater (now at Five Sixty) helmed the bar at now-defunct Spoon, he wowed with an off-the-cuff, darkly bittersweet Fernet-based creation he ultimately called Blue Moon, and he’s been riffing on it ever since. During a brief stint as bar director for the members-only club at Trinity Groves, his newest spin on the drink was a winner: Still mining the bitter mint depths of Fernet, it subbed blackberries for blue and ginger-forward Amer Gingembre for less aggressive Averna. The lush Gingembre tamed the harshness of its predecessor; think of the Malta as a boozy berry detox juice with a dollop of licorice-like sweetness.
During a trip to Chicago’s Pub Royale, an Anglo-Indian-style tavern, in early 2018, Powell — now a local gin and tequila ambassador– discovered the joys of the mango lassi, India’s traditional mango milkshake. Naturally, as he savored its mix of yogurt, mango, milk and sugar, he wondered: How can I translate this into a cocktail? He came through like a champ, structuring the beverage’s viscous, sour-sweet depths atop a foundation of El Dorado 5-year, then garnishing the Creamsicle-orange drink with cool mint and a clever rim of Mexican tajin, the chili powder that often graces that country’s mango street snacks. Poured over crushed ice, it was a tasty summer refresher I still found myself craving in the cold of winter.
It was actually bartender Sam Gillespie, then of The Mitchell in downtown Dallas, who introduced me in late 2017 to the notion of a Sazerac built on smoky mezcal rather than the classic rye or cognac. His simple switch of spirit was solid and satisfying — but then, the very next day, I dropped by the Theodore, the former NorthPark Center lair where barman Hugo Osorio was unspooling impressive off-menu creations in his spare time. When I asked what he was working on, he replied: “How about a mezcal Sazerac?” Osorio made the drink his own by adding the wintry cinnamon spice of tiki bitters and replacing sugar with a bit of sweet tawny port, serving up a spectacular cold-weather sipper.
ONE MILLION IN UNMARKED BILLS — Pam Moncrief, The Usual (2014)
Old Tom gin, Hungarian bitter liqueur, dry vermouth, herbal honey liqueur, lemon oils
In 2014, I was deep into herbal liqueur exploration, curious to see what bartenders were doing with amaro and other European-based bottlings. One evening at The Usual, Moncrief , who now runs a cocktail pop-up business in Fort Worth, had been experimenting with a blend of Ransom Old Tom gin, herbal Zwack liqueur, Dolin Blanc vermouth and Benedictine, creating a gentle, well-rounded drink with spicy depths. Floral and grape gave way to a honey-bitter finish with a tang that lingered like nightclub ear, with a dose of lemon oils atop adding a nice citrus nose. “I just really enjoy herbaceousness,” Moncrief said. “Zwack and all those amaros are so herbaceous, and I feel like they don’t show up in cocktails enough.” On that we could agree.
ROME IS BURNING – Robbie Call, Vicini (2016)
French orange bitter liqueur, mezcal, Italian bitter liqueur, anise liqueur
Vicini, we barely knew ye. The Frisco-based Italian restaurant’s all-too-brief run may have been a flash in the risotto pan, but it was long enough for Call to have some fun behind the stick. One slow Sunday, I put the lanky bar veteran, now assistant food and beverage manager at The Statler Hotel, on the spot by asking for something bitter and smoky. His off-the-cuff answer was genius, possibly my favorite on this entire list: A rush of French China-China and Italian Meletti anchored by mezcal and a rounding touch of Herbsaint – bitter orange and chocolate-caramel, grounded in depths of smoke and anise. Simply garnished with an orange peel, it was all I wanted in a glass, a mirepoix of worldly influences. “I’m a big fan of letting amaro drive the car and having the mezcal creep in,” Call said. So am I, Robbie. So am I.
SEPPUKU REALE – Andrew Stofko, Victor Tangos (2016)
Italian bitter liqueurs, furikake syrup, lemon, seaweed, furikake
Amaro Montenegro is a jewel among Italian bitters; it leans toward sweet and herbal with its acridity evident only in tow. In 2016, Stofko, then at Knox-Henderson’s since-closed Victor Tangos, won a local contest with this unexpectedly intriguing taste detour: He reined in Montenegro’s sweetness with a syrup made from furikake (a Japanese spice mix of sesame seed, seaweed, sea salt and bonito flakes), upped the bitter component with Gran Classico liqueur, then added lemon to round it out. The citrus, however, turned the drink unpleasantly dark, so Stofko went all-in and added a bit of squid ink to turn it Guinness-black. The garnish was his piece-de-resistance – a sprinkling of roasted sesame seeds on a skiff of seaweed floating atop the inky sea. Bring the drink to your nose and your palate was awakened with hints of savory Japanese; instead, you got something completely different – bewitchingly bittersweet taste tempered with piquant nuttiness. “That’s umami in a glass,” said Stofko, now bar manager at Te Deseo in downtown Dallas. “I’m just glad (Victor Tangos) let me put it on the menu.”
SLEEPY COYOTE – George Kaiho and Andrew Kelly, Jettison (2018)
Kaiho and Kelly, the personable one-two punch behind the bar at Jettison, Houndstooth Coffee’s sister bar in West Dallas, wanted to create a cocktail using horchata, the Mexican cinnamon rice milk. Specifically, as a popular after-dinner destination, they wanted to craft a dessert drink, so as fans of The Big Lebowski they devised this buzzy riff on a White Russian, using a base of banana-funky Paranubes infused with coffee, cold-brew style. To that they added cinnamon syrup and a splash of spicy Ancho Reyes liqueur, then poured it over crushed ice to unleash rich, fruity cinnamon coffee with a kick.
SOUTHPAW STREETCAR – Alex Fletcher, Henry’s Majestic (2016)
Cognac, persimmon shrub, citrus, clove dust
With drinks such as his miso-inflected Art of War (2013) and a daiquiri featuring a German smoked beer (2014), Alex Fletcher – now beverage director for Dallas’ Hospitality Alliance and AT&T Discovery District – has proven to be among the cleverest of DFW bartenders. In 2016, he concocted this winter wonder at Knox-Henderson’s Henry’s Majestic, where he was GM. Using a batch of his chef’s foraged persimmons, he crafted a shrub – a fruity, concentrated syrup tanged up with vinegar – and consequently my favorite Sidecar variation ever. A taste of the Southpaw Streetcar bounced along in tangy sweetness when suddenly, BAM! a burst of clove bathed you in winter-fire warmth. Sugar-plum visions danced in your head; in the distance, the jingling of sleigh bells and the sound of muffled hoofbeats in snow – and wait, was that Nana calling? Are the tamales steamed and ready? Oh wait – that was just Fletcher, asking if everything was OK and why your eyes had been closed for the last 10 minutes.
SPEAK OF THE DEVIL – Peter Novotny, Armoury (2015)
Pisco, plum liqueur, lemon, egg white, simple syrup, Port
At Armoury in Deep Ellum, Novotny’s zippy take on the underappreciated Pisco Sour was inspired by his own Hungarian background. “I grew up on Hungarian liqueurs like Pecsetes,” he said, referring to a native apricot brandy. “It’s basically an eau de vie, like pisco. They’re like Hungarian moonshine.” As a fan of sours, he took the Pisco Sour recipe of un-aged brandy, citrus, simple syrup, egg white and Peruvian chuncho bitters and added Hungarian Slivovitz plum liqueur, with a boost of Pedro Ximenez Port for extra plum flavor. The result was a delightfully fruity-sweet homage to classic and cultural origins.
TIGER STYLE – Chad Solomon, Midnight Rambler (2016)
Chad Solomon’s seasonal drink menus at this downtown Dallas gem are thoughtfully thematic and often exotic, and he was at the top of his game in 2016; his Coconut Cooler, a gin-and-sherry blend sweetened with Southeast Asian pandan, highlighted spring and offered a hint of what was to come – a powerhouse summer menu of “gritty tiki” drinks reflecting Asian, African and South American influences. The Filipino-Indonesian-accented Tiger Style was my fave, a seemingly light mix incorporating a rum-like Indonesian spirit, passion-fruit-esque calamansi, palm sugar and a tincture made from pippali (Indian long pepper) that nonetheless packed a punch. A spritz of earthy cassia aromatics atop a dehydrated lime made it a triumph of creamy orange spice dashed with a hint of Fireball cologne. “The more you drink it, the more your lips tingle,” Solomon said, quite accurately. “It takes you into the exotic, and intentionally so.”
THE NEXT 10:
Colada No. 2, Chad Yarbrough, Armoury D.E. (2017)
Delight, Scott Jenkins, Hide (2017)
Earth Wind and Fire, George Kaiho, Jettison (2018)
Grapes Three Ways, Annika Loureiro, The Cedars Social (2016)
Holy Smoke, Hector Zavala, Atwater Alley (2015)
I’ll Get To It, Josh Maceachern, The Cedars Social (2013)
Monkeying Around, Sam Gillespie, The Mitchell (2018)
Sesame Daiquiri, Jordan Gantenbein, Abacus (2015)
Stripper Sweat, Jackson Tran, Cosmo’s Bar & Lounge (2012)
Step past the industrial park-like façade of 4 Kahunas in Arlington and you’ll find yourself in the likes of something the Dallas-Fort Worth area hasn’t had in some time: A real live tiki joint, one that even the most ardent tikiphile can enjoy.
“I never thought I’d work in a place where patrons were battling with little pirate ships and shark mouths,” said bar manager Brad Bowden of one evening’s crowd. “They were like little kids.“
With a four-page tiki drink menu backed by a thatched-roof bar, island-inspired wall art and a soundtrack infused with surf and exotica, 4 Kahunas embraces the tiki aesthetic with a fervor not seen in DFW since the days of Trader Vic’s.
Tiki-philes know that its culture extends far beyond cocktails, but ever since Vic’s sailed off into the horizon, those who’ve carry a torch for tiki have only marginally seen their daiquiri dreams fulfilled, from Proper’s ongoing three-month “tiki pop-up” in Fort Worth to, in Dallas, a short-lived tiki reboot of Sunset Lounge in 2013 and the confused clubbiness of Pilikia.
Otherwise, tiki has been relegated to a random once-a-week or off-menu exercise, with its fruity coconut libations periodically surfacing at places like Lower Greenville’s Rapscallion, East Dallas’ Lounge Here and The People’s Last Stand in Mockingbird Station.
Now, in a budding commercial complex behind a stretch of Division Street car dealerships in Arlington, 4 Kahunas – which marked its grand opening on Sunday – has planted its tiki flag, with a modest but lovingly appointed space with a half-dozen or so stools at the bar, a couple of high-tops and several large booths.
“I’ve had more people ask for Singapore Slings here in Arlington than I ever did in Dallas,” Bowden says – and the tiki classic isn’t even on the menu. “I had no idea there was so much interest in the Mid Cities.”
Among the drink’s fans is Marc Davis, a Hawaiian-born Filipino/Pacific-Islander who runs a local food truck called Smoke and Pickle. Having stumbled onto 4 Kahunas while seeking a parking spot at Arlington’s 4thof July celebration, he was suddenly gripped by memories of his island upbringing and his dad’s love for Singapore Slings and Marlboros. “I like the low-key vibe,” he says.
Tiki’s laid-back Polynesian flavor flourished in the 1930s and 1940s, with Trader Vic’s and its Zombies and Mai Tais leading the way. Though the trend would fizzle within a few decades, the ongoing re-emergence of craft cocktails revived interest in its tropical tipples, with places like Smuggler’s Cove in San Francisco and PKNY in New York among the first to resuscitate its rummy riches.
Several years ago, on a visit to Vegas,4 Kahunas co-owners J.P. Hunter and Chris Powell visited the venerable Frankie’s Tiki Room, and it was enough to revive Hunter’s California childhood memories – the L.A. beaches, the plastic monkey cocktail garnishes his mom would give him off her drinks.
Hunter, a University of Texas-Arlington grad nearing retirement in the construction business in Houston, was already eyeing a third act. Why not do something he really enjoyed? He and Powell recruited two other college friends as investors, their four caricatured faces now represented by large carved wooden tiki heads behind the bar.
“Our only missing link was a bar manager,” Hunter says. “And lo and behold, there’s Brad.”
Bowden, already spinning tiki classics and variations at Lounge Here in East Dallas, was more than ready to crank out Painkillers and Headhunters (as well as my personal tiki favorite, the flaming-lime-boat-topped Jet Pilot). With Bowden on board, 4 Kahunas quietly opened on June 9, but it wasn’t long before word spread among fanatical tikiphiles, never mind the out-of-the-way location.
“We’ve already had people coming in from Chicago, Atlanta, Florida,” Hunter says.
It’s a decidedly unchain-y place in a bar-and-grill-leaning city that Hunter says finally has greater ambitions – and affordable Arlington represented a chance to be part of a scene that’s just starting to grow. Says Hunter: “The train is just leaving the station.”
Visit Industry Alley these days and you might notice a couple of new faces roaming the bar: Marty Reyes and his wife Jen, who goes by the catchy moniker Jen Ann Tonic.
Known around town for their occasional “Swizzle Luau Lounge” pop-ups, the jaunty tikiphiles and bar-culture enthusiasts have taken up temporary residence in the Cedars neighborhood watering hole. They’re filling in for owner Charlie Papaceno, elder statesman of the Dallas cocktail scene, who’s taking a two-month sabbatical to be with his 91-year-old father in rural New York.
“My dad is having some health issues and I’m going up there to care for him,” said Papaceno, who opened the low-key, classics-minded cocktail bar after leaving the venerable Windmill Lounge in late 2014. “He can’t be alone if we want to keep him in his house.”
While he’s gone, Papaceno is leaving his bar in the hands of the Reyes tiki tandem and bar manager Mike Steele.
The Reyeses say they’re humbled by the chance to oversee a place helping to infuse new life into the area and don’t plan to alter the laid-back, jukebox-and-pool-table feel that’s made it a bar-industry favorite. However, an actual kitchen is on the way along with a seasonal drink lineup, and an off-menu tiki selection may find its way into existence for those who carry the torch.
Papaceno hit the road Tuesday on his way to Warwick, the town where he grew up, and says he’ll be with his ailing dad through the holidays, at least.
“It’ll be nice to spend the last days of his life with him,” he said. “There’s been too many years apart for too many fathers and sons.”
Shoals Sound & Service, the retro cocktail den from local cocktail luminaries Omar Yeefoon and Michael Martensen, is now open in Deep Ellum, after quietly marking its official opening night Thursday.
The svelte Elm Street locale is sexy and soulful, recalling the vibe at Bar Smyth, the swanky, short-lived speakeasy that both Martensen and Yeefoon once inhabited in Knox-Henderson. The vibe at Shoals is much more laid-back, all wood and angles and curves and comfort, with nifty artsy touches and a lounge-y back area with zig-zag-design love seats.
Patrons can get their groove on with a classics-driven drink menu (think Sidecars, Old Fashioneds, Daiquiris and French 75’s) or go off-menu with the bar staff’s own whims — or call your own shot, like a Bols Barrel-Aged Genever Old Fashioned. Liquid refreshment comes served against a 1970s backdrop with vinyl tracks from Al Green and Elton John occasionally topping the turntable.
The food offerings are simple, with vegan options available: The sandwich leans either bologna or veggie; the delicious empanadas, beef or veggie. Butter beans and jars of in-house pickled veggies are on the list too.
Martensen, who is also a partner in the Arts District’s Proof + Pantry, delivered a Champagne toast to mark Shoals’ opening, proudly acknowledging the team behind the bar. “The sacrifice they have given over the hurdles that I’ve given them are far beyond what I would have ever expected,” he said.
It’s a treat to see Yeefoon behind the bar again; after stints at Bar Smyth and The People’s Last Stand, the talented Dallas native spent a couple of years as Texas representative for The 86 Co., a now-ubiquitous New York-based line of spirits, but he never really quite warmed to the business side of the industry.
Now, with his smooth manner and signature shake, he seemed at home. Had he much missed behind being the bar? “Every day of my life,” he said.
The Singapore Sling is the Rashomon of cocktails: Everyone remembers it differently. Like a rumor that starts at one side of the table and wildly mutates by the time it comes back round again, it’s a tasty tale whose twists and turns vary depending on who’s doing the telling.
How is it still considered a classic?
Because despite its many tweaks – “The Singapore Sling has taken a lot of abuse over the years,” wrote tiki master Jeff Berry in his book Beachbum Berry Remixed – it’s managed to stay delicious no matter how it’s interpreted. Even gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson considered it a favorite.
But somewhere along the line, the century-old drink attributed to bartender Ngiam Tong Boon of Singapore’s Raffles Hotel lost sight of its simpler beginnings, becoming a tropical mishmash of seven ingredients or more – and a headache for bartenders, which may be why you rarely see it on bar menus. “I remember Sasha (Petraske, founder of the classic New York City bar Milk and Honey) was not a fan,” says Chad Solomon of Dallas’ Midnight Rambler, who worked with the late cocktail legend. “But people loved drinking it. He was, like, ‘It’s got too many damn ingredients!’ ”
It’s a misfit of a drink, a gin-powered cocktail that muscled its way into the tiki canon through luck and guile, disguising itself in pineapple and grenadine. But while its more dignified origins faded in the process, two Dallas bars – Industry Alley and Midnight Rambler – are breathing new life into the Sleeping Beauty that’s been there all along.
**
Imagine two actor brothers born in close succession. They look just enough alike, and their names are similar enough, that they’re often confused with each other. The older brother teaches the younger one all he knows, but the younger brother’s easier disposition makes him more likable than his rugged, reserved sibling. And when the younger’s career veers from drama into comedy, making him a star, the family name rises to fame with him.
That seems to be the story of the Singapore Sling, whose sweeter flavors and catchier name propelled it through the thick and thin of cocktail lineage rather than its older brother, the Straits Sling. A sling is a type of drink, at its base a simple mix of spirit, sweetener and water. As cocktails historian David Wondrich observed in his book Imbibe!, it’s “a simple drink in the same way a tripod is a simple device: Remove one leg and it cannot stand, set it up properly and it will hold the whole weight of the world.”
The Straits Sling, born sometime in the late 1800s, was just that: A mix of gin (spirit), sweetener (Benedictine, a honey-sweet herbal liqueuer) and carbonated soda (water), plus lemon and bitters. But its defining flavor was cherry – in the form of kirsch, a dry cherry brandy.
The original Singapore Sling – at least as well as anyone can figure out – was basically the same drink, except that it used sweet cherry brandy instead of dry and subbed lime as the citrus. That’s the Singapore Sling you’ll get if you order the classic drink at Midnight Rambler in downtown Dallas, and a few dashes of Angostura make all the difference, giving depth to what would otherwise taste like an off-kilter black cherry soda.
Adam McDowell includes the mix in his entertaining and recently published Drinks: A User’s Guide, whose characterization is hard to argue with: “Here’s the correct recipe; ignore all other versions like the meaningless static they are.”
Ingredients
1 oz London dry gin
1 oz cherry brandy
1 oz Benedictine
1 oz lime
3 d Angostura bitters
Club soda
Instructions
Stir in a Collins glass. Garnish w/Maraschino cherries
You’ll also find the drink on the inaugural menu at Industry Alley just south of downtown, where owner Charlie Papaceno digs its less-is-more simplicity. “It’s like with French cooking: Here’s the mother sauce,” he says. “Here’s what we work from.”
But of course Papaceno had to tweak his version just a little. Rather than using equal parts, his recipe boosts the gin and tones down the liqueurs, with just a squeeze of lime. The drink is tart and a bit Scotchy thanks to its signature ingredient, Cherry Heering – not the summery cool pineapple drink the name usually calls to mind, but a leathery, autumn-ready gin-and-tonic.
“So, it’s like, to take it back,” Papaceno says. “Somehow it’s just gotten so tricked up.”
Until Wondrich tracked down the recipe above in a 1913 Singapore newspaper, no one really knew what the standard was for sure. By the late 1920s and early 1930s the rumor was a good ways down the table and already starting to morph; even the Raffles Hotel itself touted an “original” recipe in the 1930s with pineapple and grenadine, flowery additions that nonetheless endeared it to the wave of tiki that was just starting to emerge.
Before long the drink with the catchy name became a game of eeny meeny miny mo, something everyone did but felt free to put their own spin on. “Of all the recipes published for this drink, I have never seen any two that were alike,” wrote David Embury in The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks (1948).
Trader Vic’s Bartender’s Guide (1947) included two versions; so did Gary Regan’s The Joy of Mixology (2003), listing the neglected Straits Sling recipe as “Singapore Sling #1” and offering a second that included triple sec.
“The Singapore Sling is a perfect example of the kind of drinks that came from outside the world of tiki establishments and took up residence on tiki menus everywhere,” wrote San Francisco bar owners Martin and Rebecca Cate in Smuggler’s Cove: Exotic Cocktails, Rum and the Cult of Tiki (2016). The legendary Trader Vic, they wrote, included it on his first menu under the category, “Drinks I Have Gathered from the Four Corners of the Globe.”
Here’s a typically involved recipe, the one I favored for a while, from The PDT Cocktail Book: The Complete Bartender’s Guide from the Celebrated Speakeasy (2011):
2 oz. pineapple
1 ½ oz gin
½ oz Cherry Heering
½ oz grenadine (I use pomegranate molasses)
¼ oz Cointreau
¼ oz Benedictine
¼ oz lime
Angostura bitters
Shake with ice and strain into a chilled Collins glass filled with ice. Garnish with a cherry and a slice of pineapple.
Yep, that’s a lot of moving parts for one drink. No wonder Wondrich once wrote: “The Singapore Sling is one of those complicated drinks that taste better when you don’t have to make them.”
But, you might be saying, what about the Straits Sling? Isn’t it being neglected all over again?
Not anymore, thanks to Midnight Rambler, where mixmaster Solomon has revived his own version of the drink with a wry literary nod.
Even before he began learning the craft, Solomon had the Singapore Sling on his radar after reading Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas in high school. “(Thompson) was describing sitting poolside at his hotel with a Singapore Sling, a side of mezcal and a beer chaser,” Solomon said. “I was, like — what’s a Singapore Sling?”
Then Solomon happened into the budding cocktail renaissance underway in New York City in the early years of the millennium, working at classic bars like Milk and Honey and the Pegu Club. In 2004, Ted Haigh gave a nod to the drier Straits Sling in his book, Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails – “but if you make it as Ted as written,” Solomon says, “it’s a terrible drink. Virtually undrinkable.”
Egged on by cocktails writer Martin Douderoff, one of his Pegu Club regulars, Solomon decided to see how he could improve on the drink while keeping its historical accuracy. By early 2006, he’d hit on a Benedictine-less version that used both dry and sweet cherry brandies – kirsch and Cherry Heering. It appeared on the Pegu Club menu later that year as the Solomon Sling.
Late this summer, as Solomon prepared Midnight Rambler’s fall menu, he knew he wanted to incorporate seasonal stone-fruit flavors, but not in an overly sweet way. When one of his bartenders suggested he reincarnate the Solomon Sling, he thought,“Okay. But let’s have some fun with it: Let’s serve it Hunter S. Thompson style and miniaturize it.’”
And that’s how you’ll find it on Rambler’s current menu – served “Gonzo-style” and slightly downsized with a side of mezcal and a Miller High Life pony. It’s a delicate drink, slightly sweet with a lush cherry finish – and did I mention it comes with a side of mezcal and a Miller High Life pony?
The sibling slings are finally having their day, and there’s little to fear or loathe about it.
CASTLE HILLS – OK, maybe Castle Hills isn’t really that far away. On a good day you can get here in less than a half-hour. Sandwiched between Lewisville, The Colony, Carrollton and West Plano, its regal label is intentional, with a 30-mph main drag dubbed King Arthur Boulevard and the sprawling development of king-sized homes described on its web site as “a majestic, 2,600-acre master-planned community.”
It’s not the kind of outpost you’d expect to find a great cocktail, and yet, the very thought of being 25 miles north of downtown Dallas might make you pine for one. It’s a royal paradox.
Well, you’re in luck: With the opening of TBD Kitchen, Sean Conner’s latest venture (in partnership with Daniel Guillen), you and the villagers of Castle Hills now have two quality drinking establishments from which to choose.
TBD Kitchen, next door to Conner’s Pie 314, is the latest step in Daniel Guillen’s ongoing pilgrimage to promote Latin traditions via drink and food. Five of TBD’s nine house cocktails got test runs at the various pop-up events, seminars and South American-styled dinners that Guillen, the former beverage director for La Duni, has been throwing around the DFW area in the last year.
Along with a bold selection of agave spirits and rums, those drinks complement a menu highlighting $2 street tacos. (Also, if anyone asks whether you want the off-menu chicharrones, say yes.) The décor is hip Mexican, with Day of the Dead skulls, Mexican movie posters and kitschy candles from Target. Cushy, bendy barstools are modeled after seats on bass boats.
“It’s not like Dallas here,” Guillen says. “It’s a whole different beast. People here have money, but they want comfort food.”
Situated at the Castle Hills Village Shops, nestled deep in the thicket of $500,000-plus homes, Conner has accommodated those tastes, offering quality pizza and now tacos, with decent cocktails to boot. “There’s three kinds of food that people eat all the time,” says Conner, among Dallas-Fort Worth’s pioneering craft-cocktail bartenders. “And these are two of them.”
But are the people of Castle Hills ready for cocktails like the Chamoyada, a drink inspired by Guillen’s visits to the fruterias of Oak Cliff, or the Pachamama, featuring Peruvian brandy and not one, but two, Italian bitter liqueurs?
Or what about the Bolivar Old Fashioned, a nod to the influential Venezuelan leader, which mixes five rums, Angostura bitters infused with tobacco leaves and Brazilian coffee beans? The nicely conceived drink did well on a recent night, perhaps because of Guillen’s piece de resistance, a coconut water ice cube that gradually sweetens the drink as it’s savored.
Guillen says TBD actually stands for Tacos, Burritos and Daisies — the Daisy being a cocktail category of which the Margarita is a variation. A daily Daisy will be a staple of Guillen’s offerings. And in the (warmer) future, Guillen envisions half-price rum nights with cigars and dominoes, Cuban-style, on the patio.
As TBD was being built out, Guillen did a smart thing: He worked the bar at Pie 314. That earned him a familiarity with local residents that will serve him as he aims to nudge less adventurous palates into unfamiliar territory. “If you like Balvenie,” Guillen told one guest as he slid forward a bottle of Cartavio XO, “this is a Peruvian rum. It’s finished in sherry casks, just like Balvenie is.” The guy was inspired to give it a try.
A couple at the bar was impressed with Guillen’s Margarita Pa’Llevar (Margarita to-go), whose presentation mimics the street-ready drinks served in plastic bags in certain South America countries. It was among the drinks Guillen featured with chef David Anthony Temple at a South American dinner earlier this year, sipped through a straw coated with chamoy – fruit pulp flavored with lime and chile – for some added kick.
So maybe he’ll earn the keys to the kingdom just yet. “People are like, ‘Why here?’” Guillen says. “Even I don’t know. We were just given the chance, so we’re going to roll with it.”
Bartenders are a mobile bunch, so it’s rare that a name becomes as synonymous as a place as Kyle Hilla’s did at Bolsa.
Friday was Hilla’s last day at the Oak Cliff restaurant, marking the end of a seven-year run that saw him rise from server to bartender to manager of Bolsa’s vaunted bar program, among the pioneering establishments of DFW’s craft-cocktail scene.
“I don’t think it’s hit me yet,” Hilla said at the end of his busy final night, after the place had pretty much emptied out.
The talented barman is on his way to NorthPark Center, where he’ll be heading up the bar at The Theodore, the new venture from the owners of Bolsa, nearby Bolsa Mercado, Chicken Scratch and The Foundry. In his stead, the gifted Spencer Shelton will be assuming Bolsa’s bar reins.
Like many a bartender, Hilla didn’t set out to pour drinks. Instead, he tired of a retail manager position (“To this day, I’m still the youngest store manager in Dollar General history,” he said) and aimed to head back to school. In the meantime, he figured, he’d be a server. That eventually brought him to Bolsa, where then-bar-managers Eddie “Lucky” Campbell and Dub Davis kept prodding the Boy Wonder to get behind the bar. He resisted – until the night Campbell asked him to help make drinks at an art gallery special event.
“I had the time of my life,” he said. Two days later, he was walking the aisles of a Kroger store with now-wife Jessica and realized he’d been transformed. “Everything I saw in the store, I was like, `Hmm, what can I make a cocktail with?’ “
Hilla embraced the jigger and shaker, and in the ensuing years, as the cocktail scene began to grow, both Davis and Campbell (and Jason Kosmas, who had left New York’s Employees Only to raise a family in Texas) departed for other projects. In 2010, Hilla took over the bar.
He further streamlined the program, making his cheerful, quip-smart presence a Bolsa mainstay, along with attentive service and creative mixology. “People before me laid an amazing foundation,” he said. “I just focused it.”
Campbell and Kosmas had created one of the bar’s best-known features, the weekly cocktail challenge on Wednesdays in which two bartenders would face off, creating cocktails based on a pair of customer-chosen ingredients and let the night’s sales dictate a winner. Those ingredients occasionally verged on the ridiculous, stretching bartenders’ talents and imaginations to extremes – for instance, banana ketchup. “Think about that, buddy,” he nodded with a wry smile. (He made a Bloody Mary.) “There was a time when I hated Wednesdays.”
Others included oysters, black garlic or Pop Rocks. “Pop Rocks were terrible,” he said.
Eventually, Hilla rescheduled the challenges to just the first Wednesday of each month, and his final match – against bartender Marcos Hernandez – took place on September 3. Hilla drew saffron and tangerines, Hernandez got plums and blood orange. It was Hernandez who late last year conceived a drink that paired the bitter Italian liqueur Cynar’s artichoke flavor notes with the smokiness of toasted mesquite chips. But it was Hilla who eventually named it, calling it the Imenta.
“When we first came out with it,” Hernandez said, “it was the Oaky Smoky Arthichoke-y.”
“And that’s why we started requiring drug tests at work,” Hilla cracked.
In his seven years at Bolsa, Hilla has gotten to know a few people. “I know 99 percent of the people who come in here,” he said as the minutes ticked down on Friday night’s last shift, and he hopes some of his regulars follow him to The Theodore, set to open late next month at NorthPark. He told one pair of retiree regulars, “Y’all just need to become mall walkers. I’ll tell you what – I’ll invent a drink called the Mall Walker just for you.”
Moving on and up is the next logical step for Hilla, but it’s hard to see familiar traditions end. Bolsa was among my first cocktail finds when I moved to Dallas five years ago, so for my last Hilla-made drink there, I asked for something bitter/sweet to commemorate the moment. He produced a blend of bourbon and Cynar goodness and made clear that in spite of the change, he and Jessica won’t be forgetting Oak Cliff anytime soon.
“We just closed on a house here,” he said. “I’ll always be a part of this community.”
We all know that the people who make your cocktails can be right up there with your doctor, your shrink, your spiritual leader and your favorite podcast host when it comes to simple week-to-week survival. Sometimes they’re kind of all of those things rolled into one, except that they can also knock out a good drink – which might make them the most important people of all.
So when the best of them move on to new places, you want to know. Here’s a roundup of some of Dallas’ craft-cocktail peeps who’ve found new digs.
If you haven’t seen Eddie Eakin mixing things up at Bishop Arts’ Boulevardier lately, it’s for good reason: The buff barman has been busy readying beverage operations at soon-to-open Rapscallion, the new Lower Greenville venture from the folks behind Boulevardier.
With Eakin at the helm and one wall pretty much entirely devoted to bar space and storage, you know it’s going to be serious.
In Eakin’s absence, former Meddlesome Moth mixmaster Austin Millspaugh has stepped in to fill the void. The man who once incorporated foie gras into a cocktail is now overseeing Boulevardier’s bar program and is already in full tinker mode; if your tastes lean toward bitter, try his smoked Negroni with Fernet, thyme and Green Chartreuse. His ambitious alchemy should be interesting to watch as the year goes on.
Oak, in the Design District, is another place to put on your radar: The high-end restaurant has gotten double-barrel-serious about its cocktail program by bringing on both Michael Reith and James Slater, who between them produced three of my favorite cocktails of 2014.
One night, Reith was working his last night at the venerable Windmill Lounge in T-shirt and jeans, and the next he was pouring fancydranks in Oak’s signature white button-down shirt, black pants and tie. “I love it here,” he says. “It’s going to be a chance to shine again.”
Slater, formerly of Spoon, is likewise happy about the move; the dynamic duo have already put their formidable imprint on Oak’s cocktail menu with classic variations that include a killer Negroni and an Old Fashioned made with Old Tom gin. Though the two are different in style, their philosophies are simpatico, and the Panamanian-born Slater aims to inspire patrons to consider them as much of an accompaniment to dinner as wine.
“We’re going to change the bar program,” Slater says. “We’re like Batman and Robin.”
Meanwhile, it’s been six weeks since the much decorated Daniel Guillen left La Duni, for … well, for what no one was exactly sure – but after more than nine years with the operation, whose cocktail operations had become synonymous with his name, it was time to make a change.
It turns out there was a beast waiting to explode: The proudly Peruvian-born bartender has been unleashing his passions for Central and South American drink culture at places like Proof + Pantry and pop-up events – like next week’s cocktail dinner with Chef David Anthony Temple at Twenty Seven.
“Most bartenders focus on classic American cocktails, maybe a few from Europe,” Guillen says. “In my case, that doesn’t make sense. I would be one of many. So I thought, what can I bring to the table?” Look for more of the same while he and cocktail guru Sean Conner, he of the metroplex’s northern hinterlands, work on an upcoming project set to launch this fall.
At Blind Butcher, Ian Reilly is putting his own spin on things after joining the meat-forward establishment a couple months ago. “He’s the shit,” a departing and obviously happy patron says one evening. “He educates you and he makes you a badass drink.”
Reilly’s variation on the Old Fashioned, which he calls the Hubris, features whiskey with a hops-based syrup, because, “If I had to envision something that men here would want to drink – guys on the prowl, out celebrating, maybe going from beer to cocktails – what better way than to use hops as the sweetener?”
It’s one way that the bearded bar man is easing his way in at a place that has carved out a niche on busy Lower Greenville. “The formula here is working,” says Reilly, formerly of Bowl & Barrel and The People’s Last Stand. “I don’t want to stomp on that.”
Barter’s closing in January dispersed a number of souls to the winds – and one of them was the understated Creighten Brown, who has resurfaced at Tate’s in Uptown. (Juli Naida, as noted in 2014’s end-of-year post, has joined Mate Hartai’s team at Remedy.)
The talented tipple maker – whose Black Monk was also among my favorite cocktails last year – went from bar-back to bartender at Barter and is already hyped to be among Robbie Call’s team at Tate’s, along with Pro Contreras and Ryan Sanders. “The whole gang, man,” he says. “Good times, good times.”
Finally, Dallas recently bid farewell to two budding talents – Lauren Loiselle, who headed the bar program at Meddlesome Moth, and bartender Damon Bird of LARK at the Park. Both also figured prominently in my 2014 list but found themselves drawn to the Bay Area (and who can blame them?). “Two of our real good friends live in San Francisco,” Bird told me before they left. “We talked about it a long time and just decided to give it a go.”
Leaving Dallas was bittersweet, but both are excited about their new opportunities: Loiselle has joined the bar team at Café Du Nord, the new venture from the owners of Trick Dog. The team knows what it’s doing: Trick Dog is among four finalists for Best American Cocktail Bar at this year’s Tales of the Cocktail Spirited Awards, to be awarded next month. “I’m super stoked,” she says.
Bird, meanwhile, has nested at Mikkeller Bar, a beer-centric spot near Union Square featuring the best of brews from around the world. While he misses the craft-cocktail world, you can tell the easygoing drink-slinger has found his people. “This was my choice place,” he says.
CORRECTION: An earlier version of this post misidentified Tate’s Ryan Sanders as Ryan Frederick.
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