Monthly Archives: May 2012

Barmoire

Three Sheets of Gray

If you’ve been following the growing cocktail scene in Dallas — or just listening to the gravelly-voiced tales of head barman Eddie “Lucky” Campbell — you probably know that the Chesterfield has seen its share of drama in its brief six months of life. On Monday, though, everything was chill as the Main Street gastropub said goodbye to Rookie of the Year bartender (if there were such a thing) Kevin Gray.

Gray didn’t expect to be working behind the bar anywhere, much less one of the city’s prime cocktail spots. For years he’s been the man behind CocktailEnthusiast.com, a blog devoted to spirit reviews and drinking culture. But such is his expertise that one of Campbell’s former bartenders asked Gray to help staff the newly opening Chesterfield late last year, and he couldn’t say no.

Now the enterprising and affable Plano native is off to join the Dallas operation of online lifestyle publication UrbanDaddy. For his last night at the Chesterfield, he ditched the ceremonial barman’s vest and poured pretty much bartender’s choice all evening for a growing crowd of well-wishers.

“As proud as we are, it’s a sad day for us,” said Campbell, among the city’s preeminent cocktail corps.

What has Gray learned in his six months on the job? That it’s harder than it looks, that customers can be condescending and stingy but more often understanding and gracious, that there’s a certain choreography to being one of multiple staff behind the bar.

What have we learned about him? That he’s talented enough to have eased into the formidable Chesterfield cocktail menu with little behind-the-bar experience going in. Also, that he’s a huge fan of Angostura bitters, the distinctive Trinidadian-based formula that’s a staple of classic cocktails like the Manhattan and Old-Fashioned.

Typically Angostura is used in small amounts — a dash here, a few there. But Gray’s favorite creation in the last six months is something he calls either Das Boot or Dark Water, a light-rum and Falernum mixture boldly infused with a full ounce of Angostura, as well as lime and sugar.

That’s some adventurous stuff. Delicious, too. Gray also poured Negronis punctuated with mezcal and grapefruit bitters, but as often as he could, he reached for the distinctive bitters bottle with the oversized label.

“Everything’s got Angostura tonight,” an observer remarked.

“As everything should,” Gray chirped.

Finally, Fernet found its way into the proceedings, and the funereal farewells were lost in festivity.

See you around, Kevin. Was great having you behind the bar.

Chesterfield’s head barman, Eddie “Lucky” Campbell, toasts the departing Gray.

— Marc Ramirez

Published 5-30-12

Cocktails, Negroni

Muh-muh-muh-my…. Negroni

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In the early stages of my ongoing evolutionary stumble toward cocktail geekdom, the Negroni was probably fourth or fifth. One at a time, I discovered certain drinks and clung onto them like handholds amid the fray as I felt my way around this dizzying new world beyond beer and simple mixed drinks — the Martini, the Vesper, the Aviation.

Somewhere along the way I found the Negroni,  a classic cocktail that remains entrenched in the pantheon of drinks I return to again and again at home and beyond, solid as an Iron Chef under the spotlight.

Campari is its heart — yes, Campari, the brilliant red Italian aperitif with the distinctively bitter character. For some, the familiar bottle conjures images of grandpa’s liquor shelf — the Negroni dates back to at least the 1950s — but I’m already sensitive enough about the white hairs starting to muscle their way into the thicket atop my head. You don’t need to compare me to Christopher Plummer.

This kinda sorta happened the other night when I popped into my local watering hole and considered the bartender’s offer to spice up my basic gin and tonic with a splash of Campari.

“Campari?” a woman nearby said. “Isn’t that an old man’s drink?”

I was aghast. You should be too. Call it bitter — hell, call me bitter — but don’t call it that.

The apertif’s forceful flavor is not for everyone, but it’s not mean like Grappa. It starts out smooth but develops into something far more edgy, the stylish guy who shows up at a party and destroys everyone at the pool table before disappearing into the night. Who was that guy? everyone asks. That was Campari.

You can top it with club soda, or you can mix it with wine or orange juice. Balanced with sweet vermouth and held at bay by club soda, it becomes an Americano.

For me, though, it’s the Negroni that captures Campari’s best qualities.

Consummate mixologist Gary Regan calls the Negroni one of the world’s finest drinks. While legend has it that around 1919, a certain Count Negroni asked an Italian bartender to make an Americano using gin for club soda, the earliest recipes Regan could find for it surface around 1955.

Equal parts Campari, gin and sweet vermouth, garnished with an orange twist, it’s one of the simplest drinks to make — and yet one of the easiest to spoil, a delicate dance of bitter and sweet that can easily come off as too much of one or the other.

“The balance is of primary importance in a Negroni,” Regan writes in The Joy of Mixology. “Using equal part of each ingredient is absolutely necessary to achieve perfection.”

It’s one of the drinks I’ll order when trying out a new bar — or specifically, a new bartender. While variations exist — Dallas’ Private/Social makes a luscious one with a fantastically delicious, prime-quality vermouth — I believe Campari is its essence.

As my friend Ryan, a fellow cocktail enthusiast, pointed out the other day, Liquor.com carried a recipe for something called an “East Indian Negroni.” It subbed rum for gin, sherry for vermouth and Luxardo bitter liqueur for Campari. Is that still a Negroni? More like a Ne-phony, if you ask me.

J.W. Tate, the guy behind the craft cocktail program at Tate’s in Dallas, calls the Negroni “the essence of life.” “It’s not obnoxiously strong,” he says. “There’s a lot of layers there. It’s the best drink there is.”

— Marc Ramirez
Spirits and liqueurs

Long Cool Woman in a Red Dress

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Yeah, it’s true: Gin is my longtime BFF. But lately… well, there’s a certain lady in red who’s gotten under my skin.Her name is Hum. She’s like no dame I ever met before. She’s the Jessica Rabbit of liqueurs.

Some say she’s hard to get along with. I gotta say: She does dominate a room. One-on-one, though — oh yeah, she’s something special. I’ll never forget the first time I met her….

It was Rocco who turned my world upside down. Rocco Milano, the head barman at Private/Social. Rocco knows a lot of characters. Rocco gets around. And he ain’t shy about introducing them to his friends.

In January, Rocco was working his usual artistry behind the bar when he saw me grab a stool with a look that said I needed some excitement in my life. That’s what I’m guessing, anyway, because the first thing he did was grab a shot glass and pull a tap and slide the first step toward madness under my nose.

“Try this,” he said. “It is amazing.”

I should have noticed then that Rocco had slipped off the rails himself. He and Hum first got acquainted at Victory in New Orleans, and then he realized he couldn’t get her out of his mind.

I should have noticed it, but I didn’t. I was too mesmerized by the foxy gal in front of me — a lush burst of magenta with a body that spoke volumes.

I picked her up and right away I knew I was in over my head. The pungency of ginger swaddled in fruity spice and the red blaze of hibiscus. I raised her to my lips and felt her syrupy hello. And then, the bite — tangy, stinging the tongue, then settling into a floral embrace. This Hum wasn’t gonna be no pushover.

Hum’s creators, Chicago’s Adam Seger and London’s Joe McCanta, in the spirit of Italian Amaros, infuse pot still rhum with hibiscus, ginger root, green cardamom and kaffir lime — a blend inspired by the French Caribbean.

* * *

You heard right. Rocco had her on tap. He had captured the red queen — a savvy play made when Hum Spirits contacted him after they heard he’d been looking for her. His Fernet — also on tap — had just run out, and he saw an opportunity.

But he’d also found a way to get Hum to play well with others. Things That Make You Go Hum, he called it — a sublime, frothy mix of Hum, Strega, lemon, simple and egg white, with a touch of absinthe.

Hum has made a huge push here in Dallas in the last few months, and she’s starting to appear in the mix at headier cocktail spots, even if some bartenders aren’t quite sure what to do with her. People’s Last Stand uses it in the vodka-based Lying Beauty, but the first version — later corrected, at my behest — barely let the genie out of the bottle.

At The Cedars Social, Mike Steele craftily partnered her with Buffalo Trace bourbon, grapefruit, honey and Strega. The bourbon proved a worthy partner, letting Hum shine without coming on too strong.

And last month, at The Usual in Fort Worth — I’m obsessed, I tell you — resident genius Juan Solis pulled Hum off the back shelf when I picked her out of the crowd.

He gave the hummingbird-logo’d bottle a good look-over. I was supposed to try this a week ago, he said.

He poured a shot and sipped, then grimaced. What’s in that? he asked.

Juan eyed the ingredients, then tasted it again. I have some ideas, he said. He poured a little of this and that and poked around a smattering of tiny bottles on the counter.

His solution doted on on Hum’s Caribbean flavor: Hum, light rum, lime and simple syrup, with coconut extract and a sprig of mint. It was damn good.

Now, just suppose you’re at my place and you meet a lovely stranger in red. Actually, supposin’s as far as you get: Go buy your own bottle.

— Marc Ramirez