It’s almost hard to believe there was a time when you couldn’t find a decent Manhattan in Fort Worth, but when I moved to Dallas in 2010, North Texas was still largely a craft cocktail wasteland. Sure, Knox-Henderson restaurant Victor Tangos had gone all-in on what was already a national craft renaissance, and a handful of bartenders hip to the revival were doing crafty things behind the bar at places like Windmill Lounge near Uptown, Bolsa in Bishop Arts and The Mansion at Turtle Creek, but no drink establishments that I could find had yet put craft cocktails front and center.
Eventually, I made my way over to Fort Worth, where I found a bar called The Usual, an unassuming beacon of craft know-how on Magnolia Avenue that on Wednesday will mark its 15th anniversary, making it – by just six months – the second oldest craft-cocktail bar in Texas, a remarkable milestone for a notoriously unforgiving industry in a place that doesn’t always get its due.
The Usual was the genie in the bottle for all the cocktail wishes I’d brought with me from Seattle, where the ongoing renaissance was already in full force. Its office-park exterior belied the sleek and sexy space inside and a level of creativity behind the bar that Fort Worth didn’t yet know it wanted. At the same time, it was welcoming and unpretentious, the vision of Brad Hensarling, who’d been with the nearby Chat Room Pub before making what was then a radical choice – to open a bar focused on craft cocktails – or, as its menu states, “all manner of slightly esoteric libation” – with then-co-owners Jon Carney and Juan Solis.
In Texas, The Usual’s opening was preceded only by Houston’s Anvil, which opened in early 2009.
The mirror adjoining the bar at The Usual offers a glimpse of the cozy environs within. Texas’ second-oldest craft cocktail bar marks its 15th anniversary this week.
“The original architecture, with mirrors on the ceilings of the booths, all the elements of intention of that space are still intact,” says Pam Moncrief, who was among The Usual’s early crew of bartenders and worked there on and off over an eight-year span. “All that wood in there – white American oak, intentionally chosen, because that’s what whiskey barrels are made of. It still breathes that same purpose in being there.”
Among the bar’s early clientele was Jason Pollard, who in 2009 had visited New Orleans, sipped his first Sazerac and was bitten by the craft cocktail bug. The Usual was like a library of libations in which he could research his new fascination. “I started hanging out at the Usual, and finally they were like, ‘Do you want to work here?’” he remembers. “I started in 2011.”
By that time, Dallas’ Cedars Social and Denton’s Paschall Bar were on board the craft cocktail train.
“We were very aware of the fact this was something Fort Worth hadn’t seen before,” recalls Pollard, who would eventually become lead bartender and is now a co-owner. “There was a lot of explaining ourselves in the early days, that we didn’t carry big domestic beers or have 17 flavored vodkas; that we were doing something different.”
While slower weekdays were shared with patrons interested in learning more from bartenders eager to share the history of and riffs on classics like the Aviation, the Negroni, the Last Word or the New York Sour, high-energy weekends were approached with patience for people’s frustrations.
“We were coming in against a city that had a firm drinking culture already, and here we are saying we’re using all fresh ingredients or that we don’t carry Malibu,” Moncrief says. “But it was really cool when you could say to people who wanted Fireball, ‘Well, we don’t have Fireball but I can make you something like that or better.’ It blew their minds to see us use all natural ingredients and create something dazzling. And eventually a lot of people caught on.”
The Usual’s wry, loose attitude has been a trademark of this consistently good spot on Fort Worth’s Magnolia Avenue, which marks its 15th anniversary on Nov. 20, 2024.
Moncrief had started at The Usual as a server and after a year was told by co-owner Solis that if she was going to keep working there, she would have to do time behind the bar as well.
“I was really intimidated,” she says. “I didn’t think I had what it took.” But her experience there, she says, would lay the foundation of her current livelihood as catering operations manager for GUSTOS Burger Bar and owner of a pop-up bar business for special events.
“It really taught me so much,” Moncrief says. “The crew was a fantastic group of people and we all strived to be the best we could be. We pushed each other and called each other out on things. It made you believe in the magic of a bar, and of hospitality and the service industry. So many of us now reference those times as an example of what a bar can be.”
Megan McClinton, previously with Thompson’s Bookstore in downtown Fort Worth, remembers frequenting The Usual before joining the crew for several years in 2017.
“We went there to taste classic cocktails done the right way,” says McClinton, who eventually left for a general manager role at Blackland Distillery and now owns Tricks of the Trade, a boutique bottle shop on South Main. “We knew that’s who was doing it and doing it right. We were all trying to figure out what this craft thing was and that was the place to go in Fort Worth to discover that.”
Despite its limited space behind the bar, The Usual has always wielded an arsenal of adventurous spirits and liqueurs often at the forefront of DFW’s craft-cocktail curve. I made the rounds often in those early days but could always count on glimpsing a bottle at The Usual that I’d never seen before, then asking someone to make something with it.
“It just goes back to us being cocktail nerds and genuinely geeking out about it ourselves,” Pollard said. “When we find something new and interesting, we want to share it with people.”
And unlike some craft bars where you had to time your request or visit with the presence of a specific bartender to have magic happen, The Usual crew to a person was always up to the task. In other words, creativity and experimentation seemed to be part of the bar’s staff expectations. (So, too, apparently, was adequate staffing – I have never been there and found available service lacking.)
Side note: The Usual was responsible for two top-ten finishes in my annual ranking of my favorite cocktails of the year, listings I composed from 2011 to 2020 when the scene was more manageable in size and I had way more freedom to imbibe. In 2014, I gave a nod to Moncrief’s One Million in Unmarked Bills, an herbaceous blend of Ransom Old Tom gin, herbal Zwack liqueur, Dolin Blanc vermouth and Benedictine; in 2018 it was Pollard’s Autumn in Brazil, a luscious mix of sherry and sweet vermouth built atop aged cachaca.
Jason Pollard’s Autumn in Brazil featured Brazilian Avua Amburana cachaca.
The Usual’s upscale date-spot atmosphere has always featured an undercurrent of ease. Those who’ve worked there preach of its family-like and family-oriented camaraderie, one sensitive to work-life balance.
“They were very concerned about your family life and looked at everyone as a whole person,” McClinton says.
The bar has set consistently high standards, with a modest, amusingly composed, brochure-like house menu featuring variations on familiar libations with a wild card or two thrown in.
“You have to balance between what people are going to instantly know they want and things that are going to push people into flavors they haven’t necessarily experienced before,” Pollard says.
Adds McClinton: “It was about not just making an espresso martini because it’s popular but making something adjacent and outside the box. Not just following the trends, but being inspired by them or even setting them.”
The Usual has seen its share of marriage proposals and once even hosted a wedding, a true community institution that adhered to its craft philosophy even through the strain of the pandemic. Wednesday’s celebration, which kicks off at 5 p.m., will feature a throwback menu and, what’s even more fun – throwback bartenders.
“We have always believed that Fort Worth deserves and needs a space like The Usual,” Pollard says. “Even in the leanest times, we just refused to give up.”
Spoetzl’s new line of spirits. Photo courtesy of Spoetzl Brewery & Distillery
Shiner beer is a rite of passage for Texans, and it’s practically a street cred of sorts to have a bottle or three of Shiner Bock at the ready in your fridge.
Now the state’s iconic, independent brewery hopes to earn a place on your liquor shelf, too. In recent months, Spoetzl Brewery (& Distillery) has been quietly rolling out a trio of spirits bearing the Shiner name on its gleaming white campus – and this month, the fledgling Lavaca County operation is making its new vodka, gin and moonshine available exclusively throughout the Dallas-Fort Worth area.
Until this week, the only place you could find Shiner Vodka, Shiner Gin and Shiner ‘Shine was in Spoetzl’s tasting room in Shiner, just steps away from a tiny distillery area that pales in size to the massive brewery works pumping out a dozen varieties of Shiner beer per year.
Spoetzl’s brewery — and now distillery, too — in Shiner, Texas.
“We’ve been selling the spirits right here in Shiner only,” said brand director Nick Welland. “That gave us some time to work out the kinks.”
Welland said what started out as a hobby project aimed at providing brewery visitors with “a more complete experience” became more of a mission.
“Once we got into it, it was like, we’re going to do it right,” he said. “This is not a cash grab.”
As evidence, Welland points to the products’ under-the-radar launch and a still purchased from a stalwart Scottish manufacturer.
“We’re just trying to make the best product we can,” he said. “When you’re brewing beer, you’re already 70 to 80 percent of the way there.”
Tom Fiorenzi, Spoetzl’s director of brewery and distillery operations, tapped Jessica Michalec, a fourth-generation Shiner native who had been a maintenance and engineering project coordinator at the brewery, to manage the distillery.
Spoetzl’s fledgling distillery operation sits just beyond its popular tasting room.
The spirits themselves are respectable: The vodka is, well, vodka, and the gin – “a gin for non-gin drinkers,” Michalec says – is a botanical, London-dry-style blend featuring notes of pecan and citrus. My favorite of the bunch, though, is the Shiner ‘Shine, a ruggedly grassy unaged spirit distilled from corn, barley and malt that rides off into your palate like a poncho-wearing Clint Eastwood.
“It makes people want to drink more, because of that long end,” Fiorenzi says.
The three spirits will be available throughout the DFW area for a year, and after that, who knows? The distillery also has a bourbon, rye and single malt whisky in the works.
“You think about how big the Shiner name is, but we really are a small operation,” Fiorenzi says. “We want to go in and make sure we do it right, and we’ll learn from that.”
Five years ago, Yangdup Lama and his business partner launched Sidecar in New Delhi; last year, the two-story neighborhood bar and speakeasy was named India’s best bar and came in at No. 67 in an annual ranking of the world’s best cocktail bars (and No. 18 in Asia) – the only establishment in India to make the global list . Meanwhile, Lama was named Travel + Leisure Asia’s 2022 Mixologist of the Year.
Not bad for an accidental bartender, as Lama likes to describe himself. Last week, the energetically elfin, 27-year industry vet purposely found himself in North Texas, where he’d been drafted to design the cocktail program at Sanjh, the posh, highly anticipated Indian restaurant recently opened in Irving.
At a pop-up event at Sanjh in Irving, Yangdup Lama of New Delhi’s Sidecar stirs up his namesake Old Fashioned.
For a long time, he says, bartenders in India looked to the West for inspiration as they crafted basic martinis and Manhattans in New Delhi’s fledgling cocktail scene. But with people around the globe increasingly warming to Indian flavors, Lama and others have proudly embraced the chance to showcase the country’s richness of flavors and culture in their own land and beyond.
In North Texas, such flavors have gone woefully underutilized in cocktails, which is why what Lama aims to do at Sanjh is so exciting.
From ‘accidental bartender’ to national industry icon
Lama, from the hill district of Darjeeling, joined Delhi’s Hyatt Regency in the 1990s with others who’d worked banquets and restaurants; having joined later than most of his colleagues, he said, he was assigned to the Hyatt’s chic Polo Lounge, where he had zero experience.
“I had no clue what I was doing,” he said. “But I started to enjoy the space. I realized you could be casual and build relationships with guests.”
He embraced the challenge. In short time, Lama was named India’s bartender of the year. Since then he’s won bartending competitions, worked as a brand ambassador, authored a cocktail book, started a bartending school and trained bartenders throughout India and beyond.
Lama’s Tea Tonic, built around a Darjeeling-tea-infused sweet vermouth, reflects his enthusiasm for featuring the flavors of his native India.
Pop-up showcases creations for Irving restaurant
Last week, Lama hosted a pop-up event in Sanjh’s second-floor lounge to showcase some of his creations for the restaurant, including a gimlet tinged with a Himalayan cherry tincture brought from India and a tea tonic boldly anchored by a Darjeeling-tea-infused sweet vermouth.
“Whenever I make a menu, there’s always one tea element,” he said.
His Jaam E Aam, featuring roasted cumin liqueur blended with gin, mango puree and chili tincture, is refreshingly lush while leaning on a rarely mined taste profile.
Then there’s the Chaat, named for the Indian street food typically laced with flavors spanning the spectrum of sweet, spicy, savory and salty with a bit of crunch. “It’s Hindi for ‘to lick,’” Lama said. “There’s something for everyone in a chaat.”
Yangdup Lama pours a pair of Jaam E Aams, featuring a roasted cumin liqueur with gin, mango puree and a chili tincture.
Lama built his eponymous cocktail on a base of tequila, lime and a syrup made from chaat masala, a spice mix whose range of variable ingredients can include amchoor, coriander, cumin, asefetida, ginger and chili powder. The silky, boldly flavorful drink was topped with a pepper-cilantro foam.
Lama said he hoped to not only tap the range of Indian food and culture but to inspire nostalgia as well, and he may have nailed it mostly with his Yang’s Old Fashioned. He mixed Buffalo Trace bourbon and Angostura bitters with a syrup made from betel nut.
“Every Indian at some point will have an experience with this,” he said, proffering a betel leaf, typically rolled with ground areca nut and slaked lime and chewed as a mouth freshener or snack. “For a lot of people it’s a habit. You can bite on it any time of day.”
Vijay Patel, at rear, a retired businessman attending the pop-up from Austin, waxed nostalgic over the betel nut flavor in Lama’s Yang’s Old Fashioned. “Dude,” he said. “That’s paan.”
Vijay Patel, a retired businessman visiting from Austin, was captivated from the first sip.
“Dude. This is paan,” Patel said, citing the name given the mixture throughout South Asia. “People snack on it in the afternoon. It’s like putting on a shirt, dude. It’s no big deal.”
Patel’s reaction infused the visiting bartender with no small amount of joy.
“The idea is to translate some of it, what people have done at home,” Lama smiled.
One of Lama’s spur-of-the-moment creations.
Sanjh, 5250 N. O’Connor Blvd., Ste. 146, Irving. Cocktails are priced at $16.
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.
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.
Forgiveness Before Permission: The mezcal- based cocktail, featuring passion fruit and aji amarillo –a Peruvian yellow pepper — is among a half-dozen South-American-influenced drinks on the pop-up menu.
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.
The Chicha Tu Madre’s sangria-like vibrancy comes from its namesake chicha morada, a beverage made from Peruvian purple corn.
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.”
Don’t cry for me: The Buenos Aires Menyul is a brilliantly bitter bit of cultural cocktail homage.
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!”
Among OTR’s collection in its early pre-partnership days: The Aviation, Cosmopolitan and Mango Daiquiri
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.
The OTR team: Milano, Halbert and Gill in a photo taken in 2016. (photo courtesy of On The Rocks)
“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.”
One might easily take the local hospitality community for granted, knowing how readily bartenders and spirits brand reps have stepped up in recent years for benefit events aiding abused kids, disaster relief or Trigger’s Toys, a nonprofit serving hospitalized kids and their families.
Now, in the midst of widespread shelter-in-place orders that have shut down area bars and restaurants because of coronavirus concerns, it’s their own community that needs the help – and a team of local BBQ pitmasters hopes to come to the rescue with a meaty effort dubbed The Great Texas Bar-BQ Pick-Up.
Led by Leo Morales of Barrel & Bones Craft Bar and Smokehouse in The Colony, the team — which includes Dallas’ Ferris Wheelers and Smoke Sessions of Royse City — plans to cook 250 briskets to anchor hundreds of meals whose sale will benefit struggling hospitality workers. The effort is being organized by Trigger’s Toys, which hopes to distribute proceeds to about a hundred area bartenders.
“They’ve always been there for Trigger’s, so Trigger’s is going to be there for them,” said Bryan Townsend, who co-founded the Dallas-based charity nearly a decade ago with wife Stacey.
It was the hospitality industry, Townsend said, that helped build Trigger’s Toys’ success, volunteering to staff the Ultimate Cocktail Experience, the agency’s annual event that has raised $1 million since 2012.
So when Morales approached him and Brian McCullough, both of whom often help put together bartender-driven benefit efforts, they were all in.
“Leo’s been part of the bar community,” McCullough says. “He knows this impacts all of our friends.”
Morales already had experience providing BBQ meals to local breweries that don’t have their own kitchens, so the infrastructure was in place.
For $50, you can buy a family meal — including two pounds of brisket, plus two sides — for your household and/or front-line workers such as nurses and police officers. Or you can simply make a donation to the effort.
“We’re really just trying to crush this thing from all angles,” Townsend says.
The meals will be available for pickup on April 27 at as many as 20 brewery locations throughout the Dallas area, and Townsend hopes to repeat the event if it’s successful. You can place your order here.
The effort comes a week after Cattleack Barbecue in Farmers Branch announced that it would give away 300 pounds of brisket and burnt ends to those in need of a meal.
Avocado: You may have heard of it. The current lord of the fruit kingdom is officially everywhere, the most visible (and notorious) sign of its cultural sway the dish known as avocado toast. So naturally, it was just a matter of time before someone created an avocado toast shot.
The Avocado Toast Shot at newly opened AvoEatery, at Trinity Groves.
It’s fitting that that someone is Faith Railey, beverage manager at recently opened AvoEatery in Trinity Groves, where the ubiquitous superfruit graces every dish in some way. The same goes for Railey’s 10-drink house cocktail lineup, and with this weekend’s launch of AvoEatery’s brunch menu, the avocado toast shot made its debut.
Railey’s $5 shot is a mini-smoothie mix of avocado-infused Prairie vodka, spinach syrup, lime and a rim coated with a mix of salt, cayenne and panko breadcrumbs. It’s tasty enough to enjoy as a sipper, savoring every bit of crisp from that clever rim.
Avocados are no stranger to cocktails in the occasional sense, typically muddled or infused; their flesh offers velvety texture without the cloying sweetness of banana and a Grinch-green shade that’s visually arresting. Rich in healthy fats that are the current craze, avocado appeals in cocktails, too: “It’s like blending in butter to your coffee,” New York City’s Ariel Arce told Vogue in 2016. “It adds a deep, creamy and rich flavor while still keeping the drink light.”
The Lemon Blossom cocktail at AvoEatery incorporates avocado honey for a bourbon spin on the classic Bee’s Knees.
In Dallas, Meso Maya’s tasty avocado margarita capitalizes on the fruit’s sweet muddled creaminess, while the since-departed avocado gimlet at Moxie’s gleaned the fruit’s savory flavor into rosemary-and-infused gin. But a full-on cocktail lineup forged from avocado? Railey, formerly of Republic Texas Tavern in North Dallas, took it as a challenge, putting simple but crafty avocado spins on established classics.
“We tried to use the entire tree, not just the fruit,” she says. “I think we used everything except for the bark. And the pits.”
Suddenly, the pink neon sign screaming from one side of AvoEatery makes sense. “Be Anything But Predictable,” it says in words you might imagine coming straight from an avocado itself (if an avocado could talk). It’s like, “Y’all! I can do anything!”
Yes, little avocado. Yes you can.
Until she joined AvoEatery, Railey’s avocado interest had been minimal. “I’ve always liked avocados,” she says. “But I would just eat them for breakfast.”
Faith Railey, AvoEatery’s beverage director, spun a 10-drink lineup of avocado-influenced cocktails.
Now, ‘cados are her avocation, and you’ll find ingredients on the menu like an “avocado elixir” – a slightly sweet, amber-colored tea made from steeped avocado leaves – which flavors the Pinkies Up, a vodka sour variation. Or the avocado syrup (“my baby,” she says) that adds a light touch to the Avo Colada.
Naturally, there’s an Avo ‘Rita, and it’s a winner, livened up with melon liqueur and a rim of hibiscus salt. The Lemon Blossom employs floral avocado honey in a bourbon variation of the gin-based Bee’s Knees. Meanwhile, the formidable Avo Old Fashioned hews close to the traditional cocktail with the addition of Railey’s avocado-chocolate bitters, which like her “elixir” is crafted from the leaves of the avocado tree.
“We wanted to make sure we paid respect to the cocktail movement and how far it’s progressed,” says James Hamous, AvoEatery’s operations manager. “But we have to make it approachable.”
Railey’s When The Smoke Hits is a margarita with mezcal and a rim of spicy Tajin.
The oddball of the group is the Let It Go, which really isn’t a cocktail at all, just a pour of tequila lapped around an avocado iceberg. The short glass promotes sipping, because you’ll want to give the frozen avocado time to melt – or will you?
A wooden spoon served with the drink makes it an interactive experience: You can coax the cube around the glass, chip avo-nibbles out of it or break it into chunks. Either way, the melting avocado cube gradually adds savory silkiness to the tequila, testing your will with its ever more murky green tint.
Whatever drink you choose, you might want to offer a toast to the once lowly, lumpy avocado, which now rules the land. As Railey now says, “it’s more than just a fruit.”
Updated Jan. 21: Revised to add Goodfriend as site where Malort is available.
The Chicago-based curiosity known as Malort can be described in many ways, some of them actually printable: “I grew up on that stuff,” says Chicago-bred bartender Joe Mendoza of Cosmo’s in Lakewood. “It’s like gasoline mixed with turpentine — and the screams of Guatemalan orphans.”
Jonathan Maslyk, of soon-to-open Greenville Avenue bar Swizzle, compares its flavor to “pencil eraser” or “hangover mouth,” while Chicago native Susie Geissler, who writes for Fort Worth Weekly, says: “It tastes like falling off a bike feels.”
Jeppson’s Malort: Try it if you dare.
It may never be known whether the makers of Malort (rhymes with “cavort”) truly enjoy its bitter, piney, aggressively earthy taste, or whether it’s simply the cruelest prank ever perpetrated in the history of liquor production. But improbably, the Swedish-style liqueur is growing in popularity in Texas, with last year’s sales 29 percent higher than in 2018.
Its taste has been likened to grapefruit rind, red cabbage, tree bark, sweaty socks, even the drippings from a set of peeled-out tires or, as one scarred Fort Worth resident put it, “the ghost of an 18th-century whore.”
And yet, the number of places you can now find Malort throughout DFW is at least 17 and growing. Most are casual spots like LG Taps on Greenville, O.E. Penguin downtown and Eastbound and Down on Ross. But you’ll also find it at fancier digs like Origin in Knox-Henderson, Local Traveler in East Dallas and The Usual in Fort Worth, where bartenders have sought to craft palatable cocktails from the stuff.
“What it does to your palate is shocking and interesting,” Local Traveler’s Tommy Fogle says. Yes, in the same at-first-intriguing-then-utterly-horrific manner of Jack Nicholson’s Room 237 kiss in The Shining.
It’s not just that Malort is, well…. challenging. It’s that the taste lingers like an unwelcome guest who won’t go away. “It’s feisty,” says veteran Dallas barman Charlie Papaceno. “And it hangs around.”
**
OK, by now you’re probably wondering: What the heck is Malort? Technically speaking, it’s a besk brannvin, a bitter version of Swedish-style liquor distilled from potatoes or grain – but Malort (the Swedish word for wormwood) ups the ante by adding dandelion to its namesake ingredient.
It’s unlikely anyone in DFW has experimented with more Malort cocktails than Tommy Fogle, here pouring his bubbles-based All That Jazz cocktail at Local Traveler.
An article last year in The Ringer detailed how Carl Jeppson, who’d left Sweden for Chicago in the late 1800s, created Malort in the fashion of his native country’s bitter spirits, which often used wormwood for the stomach-soothing qualities the herb purportedly had. (Supposedly, Jeppson’s tongue was so thrashed by his beloved cigars that Malort was one of the few things he could actually taste.)
George Brode, a Chicago lawyer, purchased Jeppson’s distillery in 1945 and ultimately formed Carl Jeppson Co. to produce it. Eventually, Brode’s secretary would take over the business after he died in 1999, continuing to make Malort even though it was barely profitable.
Then came the ongoing craft-cocktail renaissance.
Palates broadened, and tastes grew for more exotic and interesting spirits and liqueurs. Suddenly, Malort sales went from 1600 cases in 1999 to twice that in 2012 – and more than 10,000 in 2017.
Two years ago, the business was sold to CH Distillery in Chicago, where Malort has been a sort of initiation for years. Ask for a “Chicago handshake” at divey bars like Sportsman’s Club (cash only!) and you’ll get a shot of the stuff along with a cheap Midwestern lager.
“Malort is the quintessential Chicago spirit,” says Sportsman’s Club bartender Joe Schmeling. “Maybe there’s an element of self-hate, because of the weather.”
Chicago resident Matt Herlihy goes so far to say Malort is “kind of a joke.”
At Sportsman’s Club in Chicago’s Ukrainian Village, the so-called ‘Chicago Handshake:’ Cheap Midwestern beer and a shot of Malort.
“I mean, nobody legitimately likes it,” he says over a burger at Chicago’s classic Au Cheval. “But sometimes when you’re feeling really Chicago, somebody will order a round, and you just kind of suck it up.”
The company thrives on that reputation, with ad posters bearing catchphrases like “Malort: When you want to unfriend someone… in person” or “Malort: Tonight’s the night you fight your dad.”
A famously un-aired Malort commercial features an increasingly tipsy Carl Jeppson IV shooting a devolving succession of takes in which he swallows a grimacing shot of Malort and attempts to deliver the company spiel; by ad’s end he no longer seems to mind. He is also barely standing.
The company’s approach seems to be working, with national sales trending upward. Meanwhile, Milwaukee held its first Malort festival in July, while in North Texas, Wade Sanders of Virtuoso Wine & Spirits reports that the regional rise in sales matched those of Texas overall.
**
If a culprit you seek for all this local madness, then Zach Anderson of Lee Harvey’s in The Cedars is your man. First introduced to the stuff during a Chicago visit, the longtime barman, then working at Parker & Barrows in Bishop Arts, was eventually able to convince his Dallas distributor to order some for him.
Of the taste, he says: “It’s like a yeast infection got drunk on an IPA and threw up in my mouth.”
At Scofflaw in Chicago, The Morty cocktail cleverly tempers Malort with plum sake, creme de cacao and Manzanillo sherry.
Among those excited about Malort’s arrival was bartender Torre Beaurline, who’d briefly lived in Chicago some years ago. “As soon as someone found out I was from Texas, they would buy me a shot of Malort,” she says. “I had to get that thick skin, to where I would take it and just dead-eye ‘em.”
Now, she says: “Malort’s the best.” Having worked alongside Anderson at Parker Barrow’s, Beaurline has become one of Malort’s most fervent Dallas-area disciples, pushing it at the bars where she currently works, LG Taps in Lower Greenville and Mike’s Gemini Twin south of downtown.
“She guilts people into it,” says Gemini Twin bartender Chase Burns. “Like, one person will try it and she’ll be, like, ‘Hey! Are you gonna let him do that alone?’ ”
At Lee Harvey’s, Anderson says he loves to save Malort for those who approach him with requests like, “It’s my birthday! Can I have a free shot?” “And I’ll be, like, ‘Oh, have I got a shot for you.’ ”
A shot is the purest way to experience Malort, but for those fearful of going all-in or ready to move on to something different, here are four cocktails around the DFW area that utilize it with success.
River Runs Backward (Jason Pollard, The Usual)
At The Usual in Fort Worth, bar manager Jason Pollard punches gin with a quarter-ounce of Malort, offset by an equally potent splash of Green Chartreuse and a bit of dry vermouth. The result is dry and floral before it dips into the essence of worn boot, leathery and earthy with hints of caraway. The name refers to Chicago’s feat of engineering more than a century ago that reversed the Illinois River’s flow to keep waste and sewage from collecting in Lake Michigan.
Oh Ma’Lort! (Chris Heinen, Origin)
With its stylish, seasonal cuisine, Knox-Henderson’s Origin might seem improbable habitat for Malort, but manager Chris Heinen succumbed to the challenge of putting lipstick on this liquid swine. His bourbon-based cocktail spices Malort with a ginger-infusion, then adds pineapple liqueur to subdue the beast; the drink’s sweetness collapses under a current of wood chips. “It was a challenge,” he says. “This stuff is a bit of a dragon, so I thought taming it would be good. It’s like a Manhattan.”
All That Jazz (Tommy Fogle, Local Traveler)
It’s doubtful that any bartender in DFW has experimented with more Malort cocktails than Local Traveler’s Fogle, who has produced Malort variations on the Margarita and various tiki classics at places like Industry Alley, Small Brewpub, The Usual and now Local Traveler. “It’s slightly masochistic, but I like it,” he says. His latest, All That Jazz, drops Malort into a sparkling wine base with a wise dose of strawberry-hibiscus sweetness.
Chicago Negroni (Zach Anderson, Parker & Barrow’s)
Zach Anderson’s Chicago Negroni.
Zach Anderson, now at Lee Harvey’s, may have left this Bishop Arts joint but his legacy remains with this twist on the classic Negroni – typically a mix of gin, sweet vermouth and bitter Campari.
His Chicago Negroni subs Malort for half the Campari to surprisingly good effect.
That’s not all Anderson left behind, either: Look up Parker & Barrow’s web site and you’ll find… a bottle of Malort.
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)
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
