The Italian bitter liqueur known as fernet is wildly popular in Argentina, where the earthy amaro is mixed with Coca-Cola to create what’s become known as the country’s national drink, the simply named Fernet and Coke.
Fernet is also wildly popular with Dallas bartender James Slater, who over the years has made a habit of incorporating the unabashedly bitter amaro into some of his more memorable cocktails. “It’s kind of my taste,” the Panamanian-born barman says.
Guardian Angel, Dallas’ James Slater’s tribute to fernet, an Italian bitter liqueur.
So maybe it was destiny that Slater would be tapped to run the bar at Chimichurri, the Argentinian bistro that Jesus Carmona opened last fall in Dallas’ Bishop Arts District, where images of legendary Argentinian figures preside over bustling tables flowing with grilled meats and breaded milanesa — and where Slater serves up the requisite Fernet-and-Coke in a hollowed-out Coca-Cola can.
But Slater, who has helmed the bar at Dallas places such as Oak, Knife and the late Five Sixty, has taken his fernet fandom even further: Presented with the proper atmosphere, he’s now started making his own. The small-batch run he calls Guardian Angel can now be enjoyed at Chimichurri or taken home in sample 2-ounce bottles, each of which bears the image of an winged angel watching over a pair of innocents.
“Living in a pandemic in this world, many people have felt alone and forget that we have a guardian angel who, without our realizing it, has helped us many times,” he says. “We sometimes forget that, so that’s how I was inspired to name this amaro.”
Slater, at Chimichurri, which opened last fall in Dallas’ Bishop Arts District. Argentina is the world’s largest consumer of fernet.
If you’ve never tried fernet, you might be hard pressed to associate its taste with anything spiritual: It belongs to a family of Italian bitter liqueurs, or amari, whose levels of sweetness span a spectrum that can range from friendly to non-existent. Montenegro leans toward the former, with boldly red Campari somewhere in between; fernet — the mostly popular brand of which is the ubiquitous Fernet-Branca — embraces the latter.
A digestif traditionally served neat, it’s made by macerating and then aging a wide-ranging mix of herbs, spices and roots that typically includes saffron, cardamom and myrrh. One’s baptism into the fold is like meeting someone you never forget — the eccentric who announces her presence at the party, the nonconformist whose swagger carries no whiff of diplomacy. Fernet definitely makes an impression.
It’s said that Argentina consumes 75 percent of the world’s fernet, but a good portion of the rest likely goes to craft bartenders, who have been known to trade shots of it with each other so often that the drink became known as “the bartender’s handshake.”
At Chimichurri, the Fernet and Coke — Argentina’s unofficial national drink — is served in a hollowed Coca-Cola can.
Slater has a knack for crafting drinks that temper fernet’s earthy bitterness with adroit hints of sweetness: At now-defunct Spoon, his Blue Moon cocktail blended it with blueberry preserves and a second Italian bitter, Averna; at Network Bar in Trinity Groves, he’d subbed blackberries for blue and replaced Averna with a ginger liqueur to create the bodacious Malta.
He loves the feat of taking an ingredient that people find challenging and countering it with others that both complement and build on it.
“People who taste it for the first time say it tastes like medicine, or they try to figure out the flavors,” he says. “That’s the cool thing, to watch people’s faces when they try it, then to make something unique and different. And making fernet is like — a process, like science. You build it and see it develop until you get the profile you want.”
Just before the restaurant’s fall opening, Slater took inventory of some of the 28 ingredients — from saffron to South American cedron — that he would use to craft his fernet blend.
A few days before Chimichurri opened in November, Slater unloaded from his vehicle a box loaded with herbs, spices and roots that would comprise his 28-ingredient recipe. They ranged from rosemary, thyme, turmeric, dried galangal and orris root to South American influences such as purple corn, yerba mate and the herbs cedron and carqueja powder, both known for aiding digestion.
“I had to get some of these on Amazon,” he said. “But I wanted to make something really unique, something with Latin roots.”
The finished product, which had to sit for a couple of months before being unveiled, starts out like Averna with hints of sweet caramel before descending into fernet’s characteristically spice-and-root-soaked depths. The two-ounce bottles sell for $12 apiece.
Slater is pleased with his first run but is already pondering the sequel.
Not surprisingly, he says: “I think it needs to be more bitter.”
Slater, who always makes sure to include a cocktail featuring fernet on his menus, pours a taste of his bitter elixir at Chimichurri’s bar.
My favorites of 2019: At center, Homewood’s Golden Amaranth; clockwise from top left, the Inca Knife Fight at Henry’s Majestic; Ruins’ Sierra Outkast; Bourbon and Banter’s Ducktail; Five Sixty’s Paper Crane; Proper’s Pandan Swizzle; the Liberty Spikes at Bourbon and Banter; Midnight Rambler’s Seasick Crocodile; and the Spanish Gin & Tonic at Beverley’s.
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’ Alpine Blues: A heady expression of forest growth in a glass.
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)
I could have waxed all season about Pollard’s luscious Autumn in Brazil.
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.
For too short a time, we sipped many a care away with this caraway-flavored goodness.
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.
The Black Monk’s aromas and flavors led me on multiple meditative journeys, yet I remained unknowing of all its seductive secrets.
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
At Boulevardier, bar manager Eddie Eakin’s 2013 cocktail got a sweet-as-Vermont-honey makeover that was wicked good.
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)
Sugar and spice and everything nice: Bowden’s divergent path showed quien es mas Ancho.
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
Mad beetz: Arseneau’s refreshingly vegetal Double Under at H&G Sply.
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
The funky nature of raicilla, an agave-based spirit produced in Mexico’s Jalisco state, was given wings to fly in La Viuda Negra’s El Papazote. (Photo courtesy of Javier Villalva)
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 Standard Pour, Millspaugh’s Fleur de Feu.
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
At Flora Street Cafe, Festa’s Madame Hummingbird made Hum liqueur great again.
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
At members-only Network Bar, James Slater’s Malta was berry, berry good.
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.
Jesse Powell’s boozy play on the classic Indian refresher was a work of mango-nificence.
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
Moncrief’s use of Ransom Old Tom gin inspired the name for this fantastic floral foray.
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
Call’s response to bitter and smoky: The marvelous Rome Is Burning.
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
Stofko’s Guinness-black Seppuku Reale artfully merged Italian and Japanese influences.
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)
The Sleepy Coyote, a coffee-infused gem from Jettison’s Kaiho and Kelly, got me woke.
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
Fletcher’s Sidecar variation transported you to a winter wonderland.
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
Novotny plum’d the depths of his Hungarian upbringing to create this snazzy riff on the classic Pisco Sour.
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)
Solomon’s Tiger Style was a passion fruit wildcat, my favorite among a stellar lineup of exotic cocktails he debuted in 2016, classified as “gritty tiki.”
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)
Some of the year’s best, clockwise from upper left: Kyle Hilla’s Undercut; Chad Solomon’s Screwpine Fix; Hugo Osorio’s Big Stick Mojito; Brittany Day’s Prolific Poet; Austin Gurley’s Smokey Bandit; Gabe Sanchez’s Calvados Sidecar.
As 2017 got underway, it wasn’t insane to wonder if the local craft-cocktail scene had lost its mojo despite its expanding influence around the region. Sure, Hide had just opened in Deep Ellum, with its fancypants behind-the-scenes gadgetry elevating its ambitious alchemy, and well-etched torchbearers like The Standard Pour, Atwater Alley, Bolsa, Jettison, Black Swan, Bowen House, Thompson’s Bookstore and Industry Alley (to name a few) powered on, doing what they do.
But even as cocktail lists sprouted like bluebonnets throughout North Texas – in Frisco, in Lewisville, in Trophy Club, for god’s sakes – too many of the area’s proliferating iterations emerged uninspired or even unhinged, seemingly designed more to ride the trend than to propel it forward. Overall, creativity seemed stifled by malaise. Had things finally peaked?
Then July brought Shoals, the soulful, back-to-basics cocktail lounge in Deep Ellum, and Fair Park’s Las Almas Rotas, whose heartfelt ambience admirably sated Dallas’ growing thirst for mezcal. And as the year pulled to a close, Bourbon & Banter appeared down the rabbit hole of downtown Dallas’ Statler Hotel, sprinkling its craft savvy with photogenic dashes of Wonderland whimsy.
Hide, Deep Ellum’s science-y cocktail lab, gave life to some of 2017’s best cocktails.
DFW did get its groove back, and then decided to make a night of it. In 2017, a wave of low-proof cocktails met the need for an evening’s worth of social nectars without the boozy kick that might send one home early. Low-alcohol cocktails dotted menus at Hide, Uptown’s Standard Pour and sherry-focused Jettison in Oak Cliff; Yayoi, in Plano, made its Wasabi Bloody Mary with Japanese shochu, while Bourbon & Banter’s excellent Undercut put Cynar, an Italian bitter liqueur, in the spotlight.
Hide also blazed tasty trails with savory cocktails, employing mushrooms in its magnificent Champion, bananas in its Tally Man and chicken stock in – well, more on that later. At Bourbon & Banter, Kyle Hilla topped two of his stellar cocktails with small spoonfuls of savory goodness. Meanwhile, green chilies surfaced as a popular flavor as bartenders toyed with a pair of newly arrived ingredients, poblano-driven Ancho Reyes Verde and St. George’s multi-peppered green chile vodka; elsewhere, Hatch green chile syrup ignited Skyler Chastain’s Santa Fe Smash at The People’s Last Stand at Mockingbird Station.
Sprezza’s Julieta. Get to it, Romeo.
Ever-flourishing agave-based spirits drove some of the year’s best drinks. Smoky mezcal danced with Ancho Reyes Verde and lemon liqueur in Brittany Day’s Prolific Poet at Thompson’s Bookstore in Fort Worth; at High and Tight in Deep Ellum, it partnered with cinnamon-infused whiskey to amp up the smoke in Austin Gurley’s solid Smokey Bandit. And at East Dallas’ Lounge Here, Brad Bowden flexed aged tequila’s guns in Dirty D’s Thang, his tribute to an aging dive-bar ladies man in long-ago New Orleans.
Gin sparkled in Sprezza’s Julieta in Oak Lawn, in George Kaiho’s Sylvan at Oak Cliff’s Jettison and in Chad Solomon’s remarkable Screwpine Fix at downtown’s Midnight Rambler, where it was infused with lemongrass and paired with Bolivian pisco. And Robbie Call used Gracias A Dios’ agave-based gin and his own vanilla-spiced tonic for a smoky Spanish Gin Tonic, a short-lived gem at since-shuttered Filament in Deep Ellum.
Finally, the force was strong in 2017’s classic covers, with solid spins on drinks like the Old Fashioned, Sazerac, Bijou, Last Word and Pina Colada. At Black Swan, Gabe Sanchez’s Calvados-anchored Sidecar was a thing of beauty; Scandinavian aquavit fancied up The Keeper’s gimlet in Plano; and at the Theodore in NorthPark Center, Hugo Osorio’s falernum-spiked Bee’s Knees and Big Stick Mojito, juiced up with raspberry coulis, were as pretty as they were delicious.
My tastes are my own, of course. I love the botanicals of gin and the smoke of mezcal, the warm comfort of whiskey and the bittersweet beauty of European amari; I’m drawn to flavor combinations that lure me to unfamiliar territory and drinks that go down like great train rides, where every ingredient is visible along the way.
Here were my 15 favorite cocktails of 2017.
Long’s lush La Joya showed you can still count on Abacus.
LA JOYA (Jason Long, Abacus)
Tequila reposado, Green Chartreuse, sweet vermouth, Port, orange bitters
At this cozy upscale lounge welcoming patrons of the celebrated Knox-Henderson restaurant, Long’s agave-driven play on a classic Bijou (French for “jewel”) was a bouquet of caramel, grape-y sweetness. Eager to make a drink honoring a tequila-loving colleague, Long tinkered with the floral Bijou, subbing smooth, aged tequila for gin plus a touch of Port. The name is the classic’s Spanish translation and an equally perfect gift for somebody special.
When you needed to cool off in Uptown, it was time to go Due South. (Photo by SungJoon Bruce Koo)
DUE SOUTH (Jeremy Koeninger, Parliament)
Rum, coconut, pineapple, orange, jalapeno, nutmeg
At Parliament, Koeninger put a Texas spin on the tropical Painkiller, itself a spin on the Pina Colada. “I wanted something a little less tiki,” he says. “And being from Texas, I like the combination of spicy and sweet.” So he added jalapeno and called it the Due South for the happy coincidence that any south-of-the-border spirit works as well as rum – except for, apparently, cachaca. (What up, Brazil?) Pisco in particular is fantastic. As you might expect, it’s a great warm-weather refresher, with its creamy pineapple, cool citrus and nutty spice, with some lingering heat on the tongue to boot.
MAMBO MORADO (Jonathan Garcia, Jose)
Blueberry/lavender-infused sotol, sunflower seed orgeat, lime, Campari, Crème de Violette
The drinks at this Highland Park gem naturally lean agave, and Garcia drew upon a pisco-based concoction he’d made for a local competition and funked it up by subbing little-known sotol, distilled in Chihuahua from desert Spoon, an agave cousin. Hacienda de Chihuahua’s delicately smoky sotol gets the tiki snow cone treatment here, draped it in floral, fruity and slightly nutty tones with a splash of bitter Campari to rein in the sweetness.
At members-only Network Bar, James Slater’s Malta was berry berry good.
A few years ago when Slater was helming the bar at Spoon (now closed), he wowed with an off-the-cuff, darkly bittersweet creation he ultimately named Blue Moon, and he’s been riffing on it ever since. Though he’s since left his brief post as bar director for the members-only club at Trinity Groves, his latest spin on the drink was a winner: Still mining the bitter mint depths of Fernet, it subbed blackberries for blue and a ginger-forward bitter liqueur for less aggressive Averna, taming Fernet’s harshness while retaining its flavor; gorgeous Amer Gingembre does the same with ginger. Think of the Malta as a boozy berry detox juice with a dollop of licorice-like sweetness.
New Orleans meets Oaxaca in Osorio’s classic spin, and now I can’t wait to have a chicken mole po’boy.
It was actually Sam Gillespie of The Mitchell, in downtown Dallas, who recently introduced me 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 happened to drop by the Theodore, the NorthPark Center lair where barman Hugo Osorio has been unspooling impressive off-menu creations in his spare time. When I asked for something new, he said: “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 sipper for the season.
At Parliament, Jesse Powell’s Osage County is built on childhood memories.
God bless Jesse Powell’s grandparents in small-town Osage County, Oklahoma, for supplying him with all the sarsaparilla sweets a little boy could eat, because otherwise we might never have had this bodacious burst of root beer candy in a glass. When Powell visited them again not so long ago, “they had the same exact candy, and I was like, I want to come back and make a cocktail like that.” The infused rum pairs with earthy fernet and cola to echo herbal vanilla root beer with a hint of licorice and a drink that makes you feel like a kid in a candy store.
At Hide, Jenkins’ Winner Winner was chicken soup for the cocktail soul.
WINNER WINNER (Scott Jenkins, Hide)
Ford’s gin, chicken broth, clarified lemon, thyme
Why did the imbiber cross the road? To get to this drink at Hide. Though the bar’s beverage director, Scott Jenkins, is a fan of savory cocktails, he knows consumers don’t always warm to the idea. But once the menu’s magnificent mushroom-driven Champion earned a following, he knew he had license to do more. One day, as he was looking for something to complement gin and thyme, a thought occurred: What about chicken stock? “I gave it a try,” he said, “and I was, like, yeah. It’s got that saltiness.” Before you pooh-pooh the idea, know that Brits drink something called a Bullshot, a Bloody Mary alter-ego mix of vodka and beef consommé. (Midnight Rambler’s Pho King Champ shot is not far off, either, with a little oloroso sherry thrown in.) In Jenkins’ yummy Winner Winner, the broth grows more robust as you drink – offering a much-needed remedy for flu season.
Its namesake might not have the fastest run in the west, but Brick and Bones’ Slowpoke Rodriguez is a rush of sweet and heat.
All the drinks at Brick and Bones are named for occasionally obscure cartoon characters, and this one pays homage to Speedy Gonzales’ acceleration-challenged cousin. While its namesake might be slow, this drink is a carefree rush of floral sweet with a dash of heat, with exuberant hibiscus the life of the party. With citrus-y blood orange liqueur and sweet amaretto, “it’s like a Margarita without the acid,” Cantu says.
Sturdivant draws on Angus Winchester’s No. 4 and takes it up a notch.
At The Cedars Social, the pioneering craft-cocktail joint just south of downtown, bar manager Sturdivant is always up for a challenge. For a good while, the bar menu featured a terrific drink called the No. 4, a creation of former Tanqueray Gin rep Angus Winchester. “People would order it all the time,” Sturdivant says. Then, this year, “I was trying to impress a girl at the bar who ordered one, and I told her I could do one better.” His botanical re-do, poured over flamed floral Chartreuse, is somewhere between the original and the classic Bee’s Knees (gin, lemon and honey): On the palate, it’s candied lemon tailgated by a mambo of lush botanicals, aromatic sweet celery and a pleasant, lingering burn.
At Standard Pour, Millspaugh’s Fleur de Feu is like an after-dinner treat around the campfire.
FLEUR DE FEU (Austin Millspaugh, The Standard Pour)
St. Germain elderflower liqueur, Ancho Reyes Verde, Angostura bitters, cream
Austin Millspaugh, you so cray. This creamy off-menu knockout at Uptown’s Standard Pour, with a name that means “flower of fire,” is a low-proof treat, a deceptively sweet drink that actually turns out to be more savory. After the first three ingredients are mixed and poured into a nifty Nick and Nora glass, Millspaugh tops it all with a thin layer of cream, then torches it for a burnt marshmallow effect and a stunning contrast between the foamy top and wine-clear body below. “You think it’s going to be sweet,” he says. “But your notions are debunked the second you sip it.” The creamy fats add texture and depth to a beautiful mix of floral and spicy flavors with smoky overtones.
Hilla merged two of his favorite ingredients — Suze and turmeric — in Bourbon & Banter’s savory Rat Tail.
A fan of the bitter spice turmeric, Hilla wanted to feature it in a cocktail at the speakeasy-style bar where each of his house cocktails features a little razzle-dazzle. He muddled actual turmeric root rather than using the familiar powder, but its tannic earthiness was too overwhelming for tequila, and smoky mezcal was too strong, so he went half and half and added bitter Suze for some botanicals. As with all the bar’s hairstyle-themed drinks, Hilla put some thought into the Rat Tail’s picture-perfect presentation, serving it in a capita and capping it with a spoonful of avocado, cilantro and Basque Espelette pepper, whose mix of flavors both complement and counter. Marked by turmeric’s orange-yellow hue, it drinks like an earthy, slightly bitter Margarita.
It’s high time we had more low-proof cocktails like Hide’s No Scurvy Here.
Texas this year saw the coming of Italicus, a lovely bergamot-forward liqueur from Italy, and in this low-proof libation it pairs with Suze, an equally lovely French gentian liqueur. Ruiz initially set out to produce a Suze “sour” – a category of cocktail built on spirit, citrus and sweetener –and when bar manager Scott Jenkins brought Italicus to the shelf, Ruiz had his tools in place. With a few tweaks brainstormed with his colleagues, Ruiz’s result is soft bitter orange: Bittersweet bergamot and sweet maple balance Suze’s earthy bitterness with the abundant citrus – hence the name – playing off the drink’s orange notes.
If your mouth likes pina coladas and getting caught in a rain of fizzy tang, Yarbrough’s Colada No. 2 is your escape.
COLADA NO. 2 (Chad Yarbrough, Armoury)
Cachaca, lime, orgeat, soda, coconut balsamic
This tangy tiki tipple, an obvious nod to its classic predecessor, was conceived as Yarbrough was browsing 1890 Marketplace, the most excellent olive oil and vinegar shop that at the time had just opened a few blocks away on Main in Deep Ellum. Having discovered the shop’s coconut balsamic vinegar, “I tried it and I was, like, we have to do something with this,” he said. Thus was born the Colada No. 2, a sweet and nutty mouthparty tempered by a tantalizing tang. Tangs a lot, Mr. Yarbrough. Tangs a lot.
This ain’t rocket science: Hide’s Delight is perfect for your afternoon.
Nothing at Hide is simple. They just make it look that way. Mostly when you’re not looking, spirits are “milk washed” and relieved of their harshness, citrus juices are clarified for a pure veneer and soda and tonic water are eschewed in favor of a lighter-handed carbonating device. The radiant Delight – Jenkins’ low-proof, bittersweet ballet of Italian aperitifs tamed with soft grapefruit and elderflower – is perfectly crisp and flavorful, whirled in a Perlini device for a delicate fizz that curls up on the roof of your mouth like a cat settling onto a sunny windowsill.
For a time, LARK drifted into a bit of a tailspin, but with Trevino at the helm, the drinks, at least, have regained their footing. This was the finest of his new additions to the menu, a play on the Last Word – a classic which, full disclosure, I adore – that drinks like candied apricot in a glass. Trevino says when he first tasted the fruity, spicy notes in this American-oak-aged whiskey, part of Johnnie Walker’s Blenders’ Batch series, “I immediately thought of apricot,” he said. “We didn’t have anything on the menu that was like a Last Word, so I built it that way.” With whiskey standing in for gin, lemon for lime, Yellow Chartreuse for Green and apricot liqueur for maraschino, it’s a handsome, honey-gold humdinger with bold autumn flair.
You could buy a bomber jacket…. or you could buy this cocktail.
There’s a built-in air of exclusivity that comes with opening a pricy membership-only bar, but the people behind Dallas’ Network Bar – which recently launched at Trinity Groves – seem determined not to let that affect perception of their drink prices. And in fact, the cocktails on bar manager James Slater’s well constructed menu do ring in at a respectable $13, which is on the low high-end of what you’ll find around town. (For comparison, drinks at Five Sixty, at Reunion Tower, run $16 apiece.) And there’s a $7 cocktail happy hour.
But there’s one drink you won’t find on Network Bar’s menu that puts even the high high-end libations to shame. Forget that $30 fishbowl Margarita you’re dunking your snout into – and meet the Golden Dawn, which at $150 is decidedly a fancydrank splurge and like the bar itself, a hidden gem that only those willing to fork over the dough can try. (I had the pleasure of accompanying my Dallas Morning News colleague Tiney Ricciardi for a tasting. She wrote about it here.)
Slater applies the final touch, a lemon-peel garnish.
The good news is, like many of the drinks on Slater’s menu, the Golden Dawn is pretty delicious – and not just because it makes Gran Patron Burdeos, a so-called “luxury anejo tequila” – the star of the show. You could probably count on one finger the reasons you’d actually mix a spirit like this into a cocktail, and this would be it. Slater’s Golden Dawn, served in what looks like a silver, leaf-laden chalice, expertly layers the aged tequila’s vanilla/raisin nuances with a lovely balance of bittersweet French Amer aperitif, blood-orange liqueur and a touch of absinthe.
I’m king of the world.
But slow down there, tiger. Before you can plant your lips on this baby, Slater amps up the spectacle with a few poofs of homemade perfume around the glass – even the stem, so that the experience extends to your fingers – and a final sprinkling of gold flakes.
It’s a big show, of course, which you might expect in a cocktail this expensive – and a good way, as all eyes drift to the what-the-heck-is-going-on-over-there pageant unfolding before you, to set yourself apart from not just a good chunk of cash but from your fellow hobnobbing professionals who, like you, have paid $500 to $1,000 for a year’s Network Bar membership.
Raise that chalice proudly, O intrepid overlord – and whatever you do, don’t chug.
Greet the Golden Dawn. (Photo by Devin McCullough, courtesy of Network Bar)
Network Bar, the members-only bar for career-minded professionals at Trinity Groves.
The idea behind Dallas’ Network Bar is simple. It’s a craft-cocktail bar where you network. The members-only concept from Phil Romano and Stuart Fitts, which targets career-minded professionals, opens Monday at Trinity Groves.
Granted, there are networking happy hours you could attend for free, so why would you shell out $500 to $1,000 to become a member of Network Bar?
Here are five possible reasons.
All network and no play makes Jack a dull boy
1.Because of the networking, of course.
Yes, you could do your networking in a place meant for drinking. But here, you can do your drinking in a place meant for networking. According to its website, Network Bar “takes networking and social interaction to another level.”
Members must be recommended by other members and have their applications approved by a committee; those sought are described as “eager, ever curious, always-on-the-hunt individuals (who) thrive on new ideas and problem solving…. They must have a purpose.” In other words, not your garden-variety professionals!
Membership is $500 for those 30 and younger. If you’re older than that, it’s $1,000. As of Friday, membership was up to 217, said the bar’s Stayci Runnels.
Not a member? You can still get in as a member’s guest or, like at your gym, tour the place under the watchful eye of a membership team representative.
A meeting spot for purposeful professionals and headhunters alike.
2. Because there’s an app for that.
Yes, this club comes with its own mobile app. Once inside the club, members can then peer into the app to see who else is checked in – and then reach out to make connections and exchange digital business cards. Networking!
A mobile app allows members to see who else has checked in to the bar.
3. Because of the atmosphere and membership benefits.
Check out those handsome leather chairs. Those brawny barstools, that stylish wood paneling and dim lighting. This place is elegant AF. Cool photographs of wild animals, in soft sepia and stately black and white, gaze at you from the walls, along with a big bison head. Is this not a place you want to freely roam? It’s like you’re in Wayne Manor.
In addition to the expansive old-lodge-y setting, there’s a private meeting room. Otherwise, classy red drapes can be drawn to make public seating clusters more secluded. And the website promises activities such as wine tastings, a lecture/workshop series and fireside chats.
James Slater’s Mystic Shrine is a coterie of pisco, blackberry liqueur, lemon, vanilla and egg white. (Photo by Devin McCullough)
4. Because of the cocktails.
The bar’s drink menu features original cocktails from James Slater, described on Network Bar’s website as “one of the best mixologists in the world.” Lofty praise, indeed, but Slater is indeed no slouch, having previously helmed bars at Knife, Spoon, Oak, Quill and most recently, Idle Rye. (He also created two of my favorite cocktails of 2014.) “This place is different than any place I’ve ever worked,” Slater says; his drink menu will feature 15 cocktails priced from $13-$15, including a frozen rose cocktail and half-dozen barrel-aged ones.
“I’m putting my heart and soul into it,” Slater says.
You may also catch a glimpse of a curious vessel resembling a small silver chalice. What is that, you might (rightfully) wonder? The answer may or may not be the most lavish cocktail in Texas, an off-menu, super-premium concoction featuring a high-end tequila and a dusting of gold flakes.
Network Bar’s barrel-aged cocktail program. (Photo by Devin McCullough)
5. Because of the brain food.
“The Network Bar is committed to nourishing your network as well as your brain,” the website says. That means food and drinks that the club declares will amp up your memory, focus and productivity – think green smoothies, lean proteins and cold-pressed juices. And then think some more.
But really, Network Bar is about rubbing shoulders in a setting designed for that purpose. “You can come in here and talk ideas, make connections, whatever,” says general manager Josh Laudan. “It’s like LinkedIn, but with cocktails. It’s a very unique concept as far as this industry goes.”
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
