A Better Way To Make Ginger Syrup?

A Better Way to Make Ginger Syrup?

We're crankin' through the stuff...

I’ve scoured the internet from top to bottom in search of good recipes for ginger syrup. As you may or may not know, the trend is to steer away from ginger beer in a can and instead to make one’s own spicy concoction for cocktails. Most recipes that can be found involve simmering ginger root in a simple syrup to extract the flavor. This is fine for one-time use, but as Kaiser Penguin notes in his blog, there is always the age-old problem of degradation. Over time, the ginger flavor begins to fade (and when I say over time, I mean a matter of days) and the syrup becomes rather useless for drinks such as the Dark ‘n Stormy.

Another method is to press the ginger root, or puree it, and strain the juice into a fresh ginger concentrate. Small amounts of this will go a long way in a cocktail, but it too suffers as any fresh juice does; in a matter of days, it oxidizes. Not like citrus, but it certainly loses the zing. I came across a discussion thread on “A Mountain of Crushed Ice” that (supposedly) listed the method that The Violet Hour in Chicago uses for their ginger syrup, which is a mixture of 2 parts sugar to 1 part ginger juice. This is better, as the sugar helps as a preservative. But this can’t be ALL that they do. As Kaiser Penguin notes, there is a 122-year precedent of this problem.

After much experimentation, McGillionaire and I decided that instead of boiling the ginger, we would go with a puree. To counteract the ginger/sugar difficulties, and to make the syrup less sweet, we used lemon juice to help puree the ginger. Turns out, this messes with the pH of the mixture and helps keep the ginger from breaking down. After pureeing the ginger root, we strained the puree through a chinoise and then added the sugar. We made sure not to boil the syrup, as to not convert the sugar. We also added peppercorns and a tiny bit of clove, to help strengthen the spice. I also contemplated using a pinch of cayenne pepper, but I didn’t want to ruin a big batch of syrup.

The result is a thick, smooth syrup which can be mixed with soda water to instantly create ginger beer. Or, mixed with water and fresh lemon, could be bottled and fermented a la Jeffrey Morgenthaler’s ginger beer.

The syrup hasn’t lost its potency yet, and it’s been two weeks…

Come and get it.

East End Bitters Debut!

East End Bitters Debut!

East End Bitters will be available @ Congress & Maynards Market

Hotel Congress & Maynards Market proudly present our very own house-made bitters: East End Bitters.

Created by mixologist Aaron DeFeo, East End Bitters combines notes of lavender, grapefruit, & ginger with earthy tones and a bitter, floral backbone provided by cascade hops.

The bitters is ideal for gin, tequila, and whiskey-based cocktails.

The new Cup Cafe drink list, soft-debuting on Monday, August 2nd, features East End Bitters in two cocktails: The Pete Martinez and Dead Western Plains.

Dead Western Plains, named after the popular local band of the same name, invokes dusty, desert vegetal flavors while in balance with just the right amount of sweetness provided by Chartreuse and agave nectar. The East End Bitters helps to bring out and compliment the Chartreuse’s floral and spicy characteristics.

The Pete Martinez is a classically-inspired drink unlike any other. Featuring High West Silver whiskey from Park City, Utah, the Pete Martinez cocktail utilizes the malty character of the oat-based whiskey balanced with sweet blanc vermouth. It is truly the gem of the new signature cocktail menu.

East End Bitters will be available at Hotel Congress begining August 2nd, and at Maynards beginning August 10th.

Bad Lieutenant 3: Tales of the Cocktail New Orleans

Bad Lieutenant 3: Tales of the Cocktail, New Orleans

Congress allows its Ne’er-do-well night manager a chance to put on a full-scale theater follow-up to the Bad Lieutenant franchise, only without a theater and no affiliation with law enforcement… It’s still set in New Orleans, only this time it’s a cocktail convention. And this time, it’s personal.

I’m sure at this point anyone who drinks has heard of ”Bad Lieutenant.” And why shouldn’t they? Drinking and debauchery are the calling cards of independent film’s answer to Dirty Harry, first portrayed by Hollywood enigma Harvey Keitel and then, most recently, by Nicholas Cage (see: Con Air) in ”Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans”.

I’ll spare you the Redbox rental: it’s an awful movie. Nicolas Cage somehow finds a way to overact a character who is so over-the-top to begin with that any move he makes seems plausible. It was only natural, then, that when the Hotel Congress graciously allowed me to join hundreds of my fellow mixologists and operators at the industry’s premier conference in New Orleans that I thought immediately of Nick Cage’s escapades. ”Oh man, that’s gonna be me at the end of July: cavorting around the Vieux Carre with a host of drunken degenerates, sampling world class spirits by day and getting ejected from fine restaurants at night.”

Of course, as I sit here 30,000 feet in the air; approximately 40 minutes from the Big Easy, typing inventory into a spreadsheet, I’m a little less gung-ho. The reality that this is a work trip is setting in much more quickly than I had anticipated. Granted, this might have something to do with me forgoing sleep in order to arrive in time for some important midday seminars. Or maybe it’s that my superiors will be expecting more than just some gin-soaked stories out of this trip. Tales of the Cocktail is the equivalent of March Madness for the cocktailing world. Expert mixologists, bartenders, and spirits gurus from all across the world converge for one magic week to swap techniques, ideas, and business cards–all while experiencing the purported magic of the American Lazarus City: a place that continues to resurrect and reinvent itself, despite the economic and Act-of-God disasters that continue to befall its citizens. New Orleans apparently holds a special place in the hearts of many of its former residents and visitors. Our Cup Cafe General Manager, Steven Dunn, is probably cursing me right now for being back in his beloved city. My only experience with New Orleans is being menaced by a woman with a kitchen knife outside the hotel who happened to be a New Orleans native. Whatever. There are bad seeds everywhere. I posted an update on Facebook saying ”T-minus 12 hours until New Orleans.”. An old college friend responded, ”Hasn’t that city suffered enough?”

My arrival time of 11:35 am means I’ll miss one of the best seminars, ”Systems of the Industry’s Best Operators Revealed.”. But I will be able to catch a seminar on intellectual property rights, followed by ”The Fine Art of Negotiating a Deal.” After that, well, I guess I’ll probably try and catch up with Skybar’s Patrick O’Brien, have a drink at the carousel bar in the Hotel Monteleone, or maybe I’ll go on a hunt for some cool antique cocktail tools. Who knows? In New Orleans, anything is possible.

First Cocktail Class Recap

First Cocktail Class Recap

Each participant got the opportunity to taste and smell all eight of the herbs alongside ideal mixing spirits

I must admit, when we first began envisioning a cocktail class series back in the fall of ‘09, I was a little apprehensive. Anyone who’s ever seen the film Annie Hall probably remembers Woody Allen’s opening monologue, where he references the teachers at his elementary school: “You know, we had a saying, uh, that those who can’t do teach, and those who can’t teach, teach gym. And, uh, those who couldn’t do anything, I think, were assigned to our school.” Well, I never wanted to besomeone who couldn’t do. Management does that to a bartender sometimes… steals a little bit of that entreprenurial spirit and replaces it with company mantra, and the distance from being behind the stick can make you doubt your abilities. But this class ended up being an affirmation to me that A) I’m not incompetent, and B) There is a method to all of this mixology madness. It also helped re-inspire myself and my fantastic associates who were kind enough to help me out. There was Lars Fasel, our energetic Somm; Harold Garland, our stalwart manager and bartender from the Cup Cafe; Ciaran Wiese, the young, cocky, and talented bartender who has honed his skills with some of the best bartenders in the country; and last but not least, Patty O’Brien from Sky Bar… our “special guest.” All of them got a chance to work one-on-one with the participants behind our club and lobby bar with a smorgasbord of ingredients.

Sky Bar's Patty O'Brien helps a lovely gal understand the nuances of her herbal concoction

The class was the first in a series of six classes per year, geared at educating the general public about the craft of bartending, mixology, and spirits. Had it failed, we may have reconsidered having a six-part class series… but we had 19 attendees out of 20 spots filled (with some cancellations, so we would have actually been overbooked!). The ultimate goal for attendees will be to complete all six classes, and at least two major tasting events, to receive a diploma from the HC. This includes events such as Agavefest. Component Wine Tasting, Tucson Cocktail Classic etc.

The first part of the course was a brief overview of cocktail history (probably too brief, but that’s an extended subject for another time) and an explanation of five basic categories of cocktails. The history was mostly gleaned from various Dave Wondrich tomes (if you haven’t had an opportunity to read Imbibe! or Killer Cocktailsthen you absolutely must RUN not walk to either Borders or Amazon.com.) Then, after a tour of basic bar tools and bar techniques, we got to tasting, smelling, and experiencing the eight herbs we had to work with, along with two spirits that happen to go very well with them: gin and tequila.

Then we got behind the stick. Most of the participants were pleasantly surprised that they would actually be able to make cocktails in the class, and not just learn about them. Aren’t we the best?

Groups one and two take to the bar under the tutelage of Lars, Harold & Patrick

Two of the best liquors for herbal cocktails are tequila and gin, so naturally we encouraged everyone to use those as the base for their cocktails. There were still some vodka hold-outs, but… we can’t expect everyone to be a burgeoning Pegu Club prodigy. I do think that everyone that tried gin or tequila in their cocktails (some for the first time) were at least for the time being converted.

Guests had a blast getting their own chance "behind the stick"

We used four principle liquors: Gin (Plymouth), Tequila (Hornitos Plata), Bourbon (Beam), and Vodka (42 Below). Plymouth is great because of its toned-down juniper and stronger earthy notes. Hornitos Plata is a very neutral tequila, with all of the great agave characteristics but without the strong deliniation of place. Beam serves fine for experimental bourbon cocktails. And 42 Below is one of the most underrated vodkas on the market. Produced in New Zealand on the 42nd Latitude, 42 Below has sweet and sharp notes without being aggressive, and holds up well to potent mixers such as herbs and ginger. It also has the added benefit of being 84 proof, so the extra alcohol helps release herbal flavors (it is AMAZING with infusions).

In addition to the eight herbs (thyme, rosemary, mint, basil, thai basil, tarragon, sage, and dill) we also had a bunch of fresh fruit, because nothing goes well with herbs like nature’s sweetness.

Fresh fruit compliments herbs perfectly, but blueberries are a b*$#&h to muddle!

We divided the group into two skill sets: those who had a cocktail background and felt relatively comfortable with liquor, and those who had little to no experience, but a LOT of enthusiasm. I assigned Lars, Harold, and Patrick to the larger, more inexperienced group to make sure they got as much one-on-one instruction and hands-on bar time. The other, smaller group went with Ciaran to the lobby. Ciaran did a quick review of some basic bartending techniques and jumped right into it, guiding his peeps through classically-inspired herb cocktails.

Ciaran Wiese explains the textural nuances of each individual herb

In the end, most of the cocktails produced were fantastic. Though originally we didn’t encourage the use of other liqueurs and specialty syrups, we let everyone have a certain degree of flexibility and some people even started using more esoteric and obscure liqueurs such as Chartreuse, maraschino, and Solerno.

A delightful concoction with whiskey, sage & demerara syrup

Celebrity Mixologist Sighting: Brad Farran

Mr. Brad Farran

For those that don’t know him, Brad Farran is one of New York City’s finest mixologists. Known for being a meticulous perfectionist, Brad makes his home at the venerable Clover Club in NYC. The Clover Club was recently crowned as one of America’s Top Bars by Esquire Magazine (hmmm… sounds familiar ) and is known for being one of the best cocktail bars in the world. Most recently, I met Brad as he sipped on a Miller High Life here at our own Club Congress on a Saturday night. We’re lucky to have talent like him stopping by, and it’s a great chance for us to make an impression on those from the East Coast.

In honor of Mr. Farran, here’s one of his original creations, “Davy Jones’ Locker”.

2 oz. aged rum (Farran uses Appleton Reserve)
1 oz. fresh grapefruit juice
1/2 oz. cinnamon bark syrup (see below)
1/4 oz. Fernet Branca
1/4 oz. fresh lime juice
Ice cubes
Tools: shaker, strainer
Glass: sour
Garnish: lime wheel

Combine all ingredients and shake vigorously. Strain into a frozen sour glass and garnish.

Cinnamon Bark Syrup
In a glass jar, combine 1/3 tsp. of freshly ground cinnamon with 2 cups of simple syrup (1:1). Keep refrigerated and shake well before each use.

Brad Farran, Clover Club, Brooklyn, New York

Apparently when I saw him, Brad had been “sampling” drinks since 10 a.m…. a Man of my own heart. He wasn’t any worse for the wear. A nice chap, to boot. Brad will be doing seminars at the Manhattan Cocktail Classic in late May, and I look forward to getting very inebriated with him at Tales of the Cocktail in July.

Meattails

If you follow some of the more technical and in-depth cocktail blogs around the country, such as spiritsandcocktails.com (Jamie Bordeaux’s blog), Jeffrey Morgenthaler’s site (www.jeffreymorgenthaler.com), and various other tremendous homages to the art of drink, you will undoubtedly have stumbled across descriptions of the technique of “fat-washing”; a process of infusing melted fat into liquor and then freezing the mixture to solidify the fat for easy straining. Not to be outdone here in the Hotel Congress lab, my colleague Mike “McGillionaire” and I set out to duplicate—and perhaps surpass—the efforts of some of the foremost bar chefs and mixologists in the country.

Our first attempt was with vodka, and we decided to use bacon, since rendered bacon fat is fairly free of debris and doesn’t require laborious “hot straining”, which is essentially running the liquid hot fat through some sort of chinoise device. Here’s what we used:

(1) 1-Liter bottle of vodka (we used Kamchatka, just because if we screwed it up we didn’t want to lose a bottle of premium stuff. I strongly suggest using something at least of Smirnoff level… Stoli would work well. Stay away from Absolut.)

2 oz. Filtered Bacon fat, liquid (to do this, take a dollop of bacon fat and microwave it in a coffee cup). As long as there are no bacon bits left in the fat, filtering isn’t necessary.

(1) airtight glass or plastic container larger than 1 liter (I prefer glass)

(2) coffee filters… these are essential to the finished product

(1) Serving container

(1) Freezer

After warming the fat into a clear liquid, pour it into the airtight container with the vodka. Shake this mixture quickly and let sit at room temperature for 1-3 hours… two hours should be more than sufficient. Then place the mixture in the freezer. I recommend leaving it freezing overnight, just to be sure. When the mixture comes out of the freezer, you will notice that A) all or most of the fat has “pancaked” in the container, and B) the mixture has little to no discernable odor. Never fear, the odor will return once the liquid returns closer to room temperature, and with a vengeance. Before the liquid begins to warm up, use a pair of tongs to remove the chunks of fat. Then strain the liquid through a coffee filter into your serving container. You may have to change filters halfway through. The result is like this:

Mmmm... well vodka. With Bacon.

And once we had our bacon vodka, I had to find a medium of delivery. I settled finally on a traditional bloody mary… and the result is fantastic. But wait… for those looking for a savory martini, this is a good recipe:

2 oz. Bacon-infused vodka

½ oz Dry Vermouth

barspoon Maple syrup

Pinch of salt

Squeeze of lemon peel

Stir ingredients over cracked ice and strain into a chilled martini glass. Garnish with bacon, blue cheese, and red pepper-stuffed olives.

Now that we had perfected the bacon vodka, we wanted to follow in the footsteps of Don Lee from New York’s PDT and try our hand at bourbon. He invented the Benton Old Fashioned, which is essentially an old fashioned with maple syrup and Benton bacon-infused bourbon. Delicious. But we wanted to go even further. The Cup Café has this marvelous smoker which operates at all hours of the day, imparting delicious mesquite flavor to many of our fine meat dishes, like the BBQ Brisket.

Our chef, Travis Peters, was gracious enough to save me a pan of his brisket fat run-off, which smells heavenly but frankly looks dreadful.

It's so foul but so good!

Using the same process as the vodka, we fat-washed Maker’s Mark bourbon with the brisket fat. One problem we found was that the brisket fat contained a preponderance of herbs, spices, and charred bits of brisket which we should have strained first before the infusion. You live and you learn, I guess.

The result? A bourbon with the characteristic sweetness of Maker’s Mark (high wheat content) along with a strong herbal component and a brutal smokiness, almost akin to an Islay scotch. McGillionaire was so excited about the result that he immediately mixed a traditional sour:

Like meat heaven once it hits your lips.

The McGillionaire

2 oz. BBQ Brisket-infused Maker’s Mark

1 oz. Fresh lemon juice

1 oz. demerara syrup

1 egg white

Peychaud’s bitters

Dry shake egg whites and lemon juice. Add bourbon, demerara and ice. Shake vigorously. Strain into a chilled glass. Garnish with a dash of peychaud’s bitters on the resulting foam.

Money. Bartender Ciaran Wiese has been making some old fashioned cocktails with the stuff over at Maynards Market & Kitchen… come in and prepare to have your mind blown.

Keeping it Real...

The last few weeks have been extraordinarily exciting—and at the same time, frustrating. Our conversion to fresh juices has been fairly seamless, though we’re still working out the kinks with the production. We use between 250 oz. and 400 oz. of fresh juice on a busy night, which means cases of fruit must be squeezed many times a week. Who does this squeezing, you might ask? This guy:

McGillionaire

Mr. Mike McGill, AKA McGillionaire; our lowly bar assistant. In his work time, Mr. McGill handles our fresh juice, infusions, syrups and tinctures, and supply inventory. In his off time, he enjoys long walks on the beach and learning about muddling. If you see him running around the hotel in his cute little vest and tie, make sure to say hello. We don’t normally allow him out of his cocktail dungeon, so he’s lonely.

One of the newest additions to the Congress cocktail arsenal is REAL housemade grenadine. We feel that it’s important that our cocktails have the correct flavor profiles. We’ve always been lacking in the syrup department until recently, and grenadine was one of the biggest culprits. Most “grenadine” nowadays is made using high fructose corn syrup, red dye, and a bunch of flavors and preservatives… nothing natural. Our new grenadine? Pure pomegranate juice and simple syrup. This makes for an entirely new flavor experience. Even Shirley Temples taste delicious. It is impossible to quantify the difference that these changes make in your everyday drinks, like for instance the Tequila Sunrise. This college standard takes on a whole new life when it’s made with 100% agave tequila, fresh OJ and REAL grenadine.

To test our new toy, I had McGill make a drink he used to make when he was a humble barkeep at Barrio (RIP). He called it a Desert Sunset Margarita.

Desert Sunset in Bad Lighting

Desert Sunset Margarita

2 oz. Sauza Hornitos Plata

½ oz. Mathilde Orange Cognac Liqueur

1 oz. Fresh lime

½ oz. Agave Nectar

Real grenadine

Combine first four ingredients in a shaker with ice. Shake very vigorously. Strain into an old fashioned glass filled with ice. Drizzle approx. ¼ oz real grenadine on the top (it will sink, of course.) Garnish with a lime wheel.

Pretty good stuff. The same drink made with fake grenadine would be horrid and undrinkable swill, unless it was served at midnight in a college watering hole, probably chock-full of fake “sweet ‘n sour” mix.

I had a nice lunch meeting today with Regan O’Kon from Maker’s Mark. She’s a real smart cookie; apparently she is also a professor of Italian at Arizona State University. A woman with smarts and a taste for alcohol? Isn’t that every cocktailian’s dream? But I digress… We got to talking about using Maker’s Mark during Kentucky Derby season in the most sacred of bourbon cocktails, the Julep. The traditional mint julep, in its somewhat modern definition, is made with bourbon, mint, and some form of sugar (simple syrup works better than granulated, and I especially like demerara). Kentuckians literally drink thousands of these during a three-day stretch leading up to that magical first day of May, when a few really bizarre rich people pay life-choice-challenged dwarfs to frantically whip their equestrian slaves around a dirt track for about a minute. This creates a mob scene in Louisville, and pretty much everywhere in the state, for that matter, and the drink of choice is the ol’ standby, the Mint Julep

All the talk of bourbon and mint got me to thinking about a completely different cocktail I’ve been toying around with for a while. I wanted to deconstruct the disgusting “Georgia Peach” drink and make a real peach-flavored cocktail I could be proud of. What’s more southern than bourbon? And although it’s not made in Georgia, I thought it would blend well with the peach flavor I intended to use: namely, Sathenay Crème De Peche liqueur. This unbelievably tasty resurrection of a forgotten liqueur is made in one of France’s finest wine regions, so naturally it carries with it more cachet than, say, crème de banana.

I named the drink the “Decatur” after the hometown of a very lovely lady from that very state, and as I served it to her, I hoped it would encompass all of the flavors and sensations I wanted to capture; I wanted to re-create the spirit of the South in a glass. Which is difficult, mainly because I’ve never been to the South. So I am completely full of it.

Give It Up For The Dirty South

Decatur

2 oz. Maker’s Mark Bourbon

½ oz. Sathenay Crème De Peche

¼ oz. Lavender Honey Syrup

2 sprigs Fresh mint

Dash Fee’s Peach bitters

Gently muddle approx. 10 mint leaves in a mixing glass with the lavender honey syrup. Add bourbon, Crème de Peche, and ice. Stir vigorously. Strain into an old fashioned glass filled with CRUSHED ice.

What a lovely surprise this drink is. The high wheat content of the Maker’s makes it smoother and sweeter than, say, Bulleit bourbon, so it meshes well with the drink. For those who like less sweet, I recommend replacing 1 oz. of Maker’s with a high-proof rye whiskey like Rittenhouse or Sazerac.

The Nightclub & Bar Convention & Tradeshow is Decadent and Depraved

The Nightclub & Bar Convention & Tradeshow is Decadent & Depraved

A Report from One of The Industry’s Biggest Professional Events

Only a fool would turn down an opportunity to stroll into quiet, quaint Las Vegas and hob-knob with industry bigwigs, up-and-coming mixologists, and nightclub gurus from some of the world’s most successful on-premise operations in a 30,000 square foot exhibition hall filled with booze. So naturally I was among the attendees when the doors opened last Tuesday; dull-eyed and fuzzy from a two nights’ worth of good ole fashioned Hard Drinking on the Strip. It was my first time at the fabled event, and it was advertised as more than just an ordinary convention: it was the 25^th anniversary of the event, and the website promised a menagerie of extraordinary parties, seminars, and networking events.

But the reality was that while it was a fun experience, I spent three days trying to find my niche (unsuccessfully, I might add) alongside throngs of men who seemed to be rejects from The Jersey Shore; their eyes beady and desperate, over-muscled with fake tans, foaming at the mouth and clawing frantically at anything wearing a skirt.

The exhibit hall was a nightmarish labyrinth of ill-conceived fledgling brands of vodka, unconvincing social networking services, and print shops hawking all manner of branded apparel. The first merchant I saw upon entering was a monstrous Ed Hardy/Christian Audigier disaster flanked on both sides by small tiki booths pushing some energy drink named Wave. Wave, in case you have yet to try it, is a blue-colored energy drink from North Carolina that touts lower caffeine and higher B-Vitamins. It tastes a little like what would happen if you dumped a packet of Hot Rocks into a Sonic Drive-Thru Ocean Water drink. Not good for a sour stomach, let me tell you.

In the course of five hours I was able to accumulate seventy or so brochures, catalogs, and business cards from people whose services I did not need or want. For instance, why would I want a device that hooks onto a Corona beer and functions solely as an additional place to hang a lime? Apparently someone wants this product… I just know it won’t be me… at least until I give up on trying to be a cocktailer and open a Mexican resort-style eatery with horrid mini-chimis and buckets of Coronitas.

I couldn’t fathom why certain businesses would waste their time & money with a booth… take, for example, Inada Industries – Maker of the #1 Luxury Massage Chair In the World (according to their website):

With a quality unparalleled and a technical expertise uncharted by competitors, INADA massage chairs deliver the most premium and exquisite luxury massage experience on the market. Consciously constructed with the ancient knowledge of the body’s shiatsu points, the INADA massage chair works you over like a team of shiatsu healing masters. The result? A massage chair that feels superior to anything else on the market today.

And I ask again: What the *%&$ does this have to do with nightclubs and bars? I guess any bit of exposure helps, but isn’t there someone who works for the convention doing vendor screening? Do they really see a need for five or ten different fashion booths, or a booth dedicated to disposable insoles made for vending machines?

I did discover one fascinating technology, however: A device that pumps nitrogen bubbles into a drink, forcing the drink to become instantly cold and to “smoke” much like dry ice does, but without the potentially dangerous side effects of swallowing a large chunk. Apparently this machine is one of a kind, but it carries a hefty price tag: $5000. Maybe a little too rich and gimmicky for my blood, but I had a mini-fantasy for about two seconds about pumping out nitrogen-cooled Sazeracs to a swarm of thirsty customers. How cool, indeed.

I should mention that most of these observations came under the influence of our good friend alcohol. I certainly wasn’t completely sober as I roamed the aisles, checking out prices on building my own Irish Pub. One highlight included myself and a friend convincing master mixologist Bobby Gleason at the Beam Global booth to make us two sazeracs with Fee’s Aztec chocolate bitters, even though he was only serving small samples. He actually seemed incredulous that this would be a good combination… which prompted me to do a haphazard victory dance in the wake of his discovery that the drink was not only palatable, but quite delicious.

What excited me most were the three seminars I attended on my last morning there. The first was a keynote speech by none other than Dan Ackroyd, Ghostbuster-cum-Liquor Mogul, who now touts his designer “Crystal Head Vodka”. I was never a fan of the Blues Brothers, and predictably he employed a smattering jokes referencing the movie… which drew a few chuckles from the crowd, but not from me. However I can’t completely discount what he had to say. He spoke very warmly and with passion about the beverage industry and it quickly became clear to me that we need more public figures reaching out to legitimize our profession for a change, instead of demonizing it. But let’s face it: Crystal Head Vodka is ridiculous.

"Taste The Legend"

Do we really need another vodka, especially one in a bottle that is awkward and impossible for bartenders to serve with correctly? I tasted the contents of Ackroyd’s mystical creation… it’s vodka, folks. Anything past Smirnoff that is still 80 proof pretty much tastes the same as long as it’s distilled from the same product. So in conclusion, I’m sorry Dan, as much as you are doing great stuff for the industry, your product is overpriced and mediocre (P.S. Dan Ackroyd, if you are reading this, I will TOTALLY rescind everything I said and become your brand ambassador.)

I also attended a panel discussion led by Simon Ford, Director of Brand Education for Pernod Ricard; Max Warner, Global Band Ambassador for Chivas Regal and Plymouth Gin, and Jim Meehan of PDT in New York. The subject was “Emerging Cocktail Trends” and while we listened to those fine gentlemen regale us with their experiences, Jim’s helpers served a cocktail of his design. I forget the name, but here was the recipe:

1.5 oz. Plymouth Gin

.5 oz. Plymouth Sloe Gin

.5 oz. Nocino (ß this is a green walnut liqueur which PDT tends to make in-house. If you can’t find this, you might substitute Nux Alpina Walnut Liqueur, which is available from major distributors.

It was well-balanced and tasted a lot like an Italian vermouth. Very aromatic, with a darker sweet character that is immediately cut with some dry element… in this case, a combination of the gin and the backend of the nocino’s green walnut bitterness.

Jim & Co. had some interesting, pertinent things to say. Obviously at the forefront were suggestions like: revisit the classic cocktail, employ proper technique, use all fresh ingredients, employ balance, and limit cocktails to four, maybe five ingredients. This reaffirmed most of what I’d been stewing over for a while, and a couple times a light bulb went off in the old noggin.

Speaking of fresh ingredients… my final presentation, only two hours before I had to be on a plane back to Tucson, was with two of my personal heroes… Tony Abou-Ganim, former head of beverage at the Bellagio and author of the new book, “The Modern Mixologist”; and Dale DeGroff, the guy who built the Rainbow Room in NYC to prominence and wrote one of the most fantastic books on the mixed drink ever (if not the best) called “Craft of the Cocktail”. The subject of the seminar was how to convert a high-volume operation (like Congress) to fresh-squeezed juice. We were already 9/10^ths of the way there… I just needed this final push to make the last changes. So when you come into the Cup Café or Club Congress, expect your drinks to have fresh-squeezed lemon and lime juice. No more “sweet ‘n sour” on the gun.

In celebration of our fresh juice program’s humble beginning, I made one of our regulars two different drinks: a vodka sour made the way he is accustomed to drinking it (sweet and sour from the soda gun behind the bar) and a vodka sour with vodka, fresh lemon, real simple syrup, and just a touch of angostura bitters.

Fresh Vodka Sour

1.25 oz. Vodka

.75 oz. Fresh Lemon Juice

.75 oz homemade simple syrup (equal parts sugar and water)

Egg white (optional, rarely used unless requested)

Dash of Angostura bitters

Combine ingredients in a mixing glass and shake very hard until metal tin becomes ice cold to the touch. Sometimes it is necessary to shake the ingredients and egg white together without ice to achieve desired level of froth. Strain ice cold mixture into either a chilled old-fashioned glass, cocktail coupe, or on ice in an old-fashioned glass. Dash bitters on top of the drink.

Guess which way he liked it better? It’s not even close…

The Belgian Mare

A Fine, Upstanding Barkeep of the Sporting Persuasion

I consider myself lucky to have as talented a staff as I do between the two properties (Maynards and Congress). I think that, for the most part, we’re almost like a family. Granted, a dysfunctional one at that, and if I am going to continue with that analogy, then that would ultimately make me the creepy, drunk uncle who rants and raves from the couch and occasionally scares everyone straight by delivering an inebriated, impassioned speech on the front porch at 3 a.m. while holding a shotgun. Trust me, this has happened more times than you know.

I am especially lucky to have added nationally-recognized mixologist Ciaran Wiese to our Manson-esque family. For those of you out there who aren’t familiar with Mr. Wiese, he’s a young Tucson native who had the good fortune to get the hell out of this wasteland for a couple of years and experience the bright lights of the Big Apple for a few years; cavorting around with leading mixologists from Jack the Horse Tavern, Death & Co. and more. Eventually he returned to Tucson, where he set up shop at Barrio Restaurant (R.I.P. Barrio, ye ain’t what ye used to be) handcrafting cocktails in a classic fashion. I was lucky enough to spend some time observing him and tasting his fantastic libations, and man was I impressed… which is saying something. The times I’ve been impressed by someone’s cocktailing in this town have been few and far between, though I will also mention as an aside that I am also quite fond of Patrick O’Brien (also formerly of Barrio) and his cocktail program over at Sky Bar–he’s doing some good things, as well–but in general, the drinks I get are invariably pedestrian, and half the time the bars don’t even have real ginger ale so I stick to hoppy beers that make me constantly feel like a gaseous toddler.

But anyway… it just so happened that I had some open shifts for someone who was cocktail-inclined, and Ciaran made the huge mistake of accepting my offer and is now roped into a form of indentured servitude that makes Ancient Egypt look like a Royal Caribbean Cruise. As an added bonus: in addition to his expertise behind the stick, Ciaran also has a wealth of original cocktail recipes that he has so foolishly shared with me. One such recipe is for a drink that Ciaran calls “The Fat Monk”: a beguiling blend of incongruous ingredients, and yet…

The Fat Monk

2 oz. Anjou Pear-infused Herradura Blanco

.75 oz. Franziskaner Heffe Weisse Syrup

.75 oz. Fresh Lemon Juice

dash Regan’s No. 6 Orange Bitters

Egg White

Dry-shake Whites and lemon juice, then add additional ingredients. Dry-shake once more, add ice, continue to shake, strain into a chilled coupe with a pear slice garnish.

This drink ends up tasting much like a Belgian-style sweet ale with hints of pear. In the version presented to me, I do believe he added a touch of sparkling wine (which he assured me would “…make the egg whites go crazy!”) and the drink indeed mimicked a thick-headed ale. To me, the drink was a revelation, and I set about doing some mimicking of my own.

First thing was first: I had to re-create his Hefe Weisse syrup. But I didn’t want to waste any bottles of Franziskaner for my test run, so I went with a much-maligned substitute: Shock Top Belgian White. For those who don’t know about Shock Top, it is a Belgian Whit-style beer produced by Michelob Brewing under the auspices of the Anheuser-Busch/ImBev empire… so you can imagine that it’s not exactly the pinnacle of craft beers. Still, it IS enormously drinkable, and beats the pants off of its chief rival, Blue Moon. I keep it on tap because invariably customers want an easy-drinking hef without the clove or banana profile, and will request it with an orange, anyway. Also, my assistant manager single-handedly drinks the Fry’s on Grant and 1st dry of Shock Top on his off nights, so I am inclined to favor a Shock Top now and again myself.

I poured a pitcher of Shock Top into a pan, and following Ciaran’s advice I let it settle for a few hours. Then I used a whisk to literally beat the carbonation out of the thing for another few hours before setting it on the stove and bringing it to a boil. Then I let it simmer until I had reduced it to approximately less than a third of its orginal volume. It was time to add the sweetening/thickening agent: Sugar in the Raw, or Demerara. I added approximately eight ounces of Sugar in the Raw and after it was completely dissolved I simmered some more.

The result was a syrup that was entirely too sweet and without the clove and spice hints that made the Franziskaner so effective. But it wasn’t a complete loss… Unlike with Ciaran’s recipe, my copycat recipe was supposed to rely heavily on cognac, so I figured with the right amount of balance I could thin out the sweetness. I shelved the syrup late on a Sunday night and decided to return a few days later to experiment.

When I came back to work on Tuesday I discovered that someone had removed the cork to my bottle of syrup. I was furious. I found a replacement, and put the syrup back on the shelf. Things got busy with a show and I didn’t have time to play around with my version of the Fat Monk.

On Thursday, the cork was once again missing. I became enraged until I examined the liquid inside. It had formed a thick, foamy head and had tiny bubbles coursing all throughout it. My syrup had re-fermented.

I was an excited, jabbering mess when I found Ciaran at the bar. After explaining what had happened, I poured him a small taste in an old fashioned glass. His eyes lit up.

“Dude, it’s mead. You made mead.”

Mead, for those unfamiliar, is a traditional alcoholic beverage made from mixing honey and water with fermenting yeast. The result is a sweet, syrupy beverage with a high alcohol content.

While I had not made mead, I accidentally had made something similar. I let the mixture rest for an additional 9 days before refrigerating it and serving it. And this was the result:

"The Belgian Mare"

Rich, velvety, sweet, & seriously alcoholic. There were elegant notes from the demerara, but also a pumpkin quality and some very fruity and floral notes on the nose. I would estimate the end result to be at least 8% alcohol, but it tasted more like a very hot wine (14.5%)

The Belgian Mare

64 oz. Shock Top Belgian White

Reduce to approx. 20 oz. after settling/beating/removing carbonation

Add 5 oz. Sugar in the Raw (this is less than I used, but that’s probably a good thing. Maybe 6 oz.)

Pour results (should be about 750 ml) into a large container with a semi-closed top (so that CO2 can escape.) Add 1 oz Shocktop to ensure that yeast is still active and isn’t killed in boiling process.

Let sit for approx. 2 weeks. You should notice the fermentation. Chill and serve.

I’m really big on names… the “Belgian Mare” comes from a character in James Michener’s Alaska: a tough-minded Dawson City prostitute. Somehow I feel the name is fitting.

Reconstructing a Drink from my Past... the Right Way

Even to this day, I am still shocked when I add a dash or two of “bitters” to virtually any cocktail and immediately the drink improves. I think bitters is a cocktail ingredient that remains largely misunderstood by most of the drinking public… which is not surprising, because the drinking public of today is not a very well-informed body. Years of being force-fed hideous drinks such as the Mudslide, Sex on the Beach, and other abominations named after various sex acts has deprived us of our rich cocktail history, and we have yet to fully reclaim it.

Fortunately, bar geniuses touting the virtues of classic cocktails, fresh ingredients, balance, & complex flavor profiles such as Dale DeGroff, Gary Regan, Audrey Saunders, Eben Freeman, Eben Klemm (wow, two Ebens… jesus) and the whole crew over at Death & Co. in NYC, have reintroduced a whole generation of imbibers to what real drinking is. To think: only a few short years ago I was mixing flavored rum with puckers and pineapple juice from the gun and calling it my masterpiece… the “Time Bomb”.

Time Bomb (original, circa 2003/04)

1 oz. Bacardi Orange Rum

1 oz. DeKuyper Island Blue Pucker

1 oz. pineapple juice (from the gun)

Shaken with ice and strained into a small rocks glass. Garnished with a stemless maraschino cherry at the bottom of the glass.

I would sell hundreds of these every weekend to my little college boys and girls who wanted to get wasted and wake up with earth-shaking hangovers the next day. And, yeah, I drank them too. And I, too, suffered the ill-effects of this concoction. The name ”Time Bomb” is reference to the 30-minute time frame which the imbiber would have before the syrupy-sweet liqueurs found in said libation would cloud all judgment and reduce him/her to a blubbering, weeping mess; forcing the consumer to cling desperately to any sturdy monument in the bar for balance, be it a bar rail or a large Captain Morgan statue.

The years have passed and my understanding of cocktail balance has grown, and I now realize that not only is this drink foul and offensive, but in a sick, perverse way I actually still like it. But I cannot bring myself to order DeKuyper products for our bar here at the hotel. Here’s what Colleen Graham from About.com Cocktails had to say about my old friend Island Blue Pucker:

“There is not much to be said for DeKuyper Island Blue Pucker except that it should be avoided if you have any taste buds…Where many of the other Puckers produced by the brand that I’ve tried have a purpose in at least one or two cocktails (as novel as those may be), there was not one mix I tried where Island Blue Pucker didn’t completely destroy the drink.”

She goes on to suggest other blue liqueurs such as Hypnotiq, one of my other guilty pleasures (a story for another time). Also not going to be purchased for the hotel.

So I knew if I was to resurrect this drink, I would have to use a little creativity. Since the Island Blue Pucker provides absolutely no clues as to its fruits of origin, I would have to blindly pick some options and taste to determine whether or not they will recreate the profile.

Time Bomb #2

1 oz. 10 Cane First-Press Rum

.5 oz Patron Citronge

.5 oz Simple Syrup

.25 oz Pineapple juice

.25 oz Lemon Juice

.25 oz Blue Curacao

dash Orange Bitters

dash Peach Bitters

Combine ingredients in a mixing glass with ice. Shake vigorously and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Here was my thought process: Since I wanted to preserve the integrity of the rum aspect, I wanted a flavorful light rum (not Bacardi) so I chose 10 Cane, because the fact of the matter is that it is freakin’ delicious. With the 10 Cane base in place, I knew I had to get that orange profile as well. Patron Citronge was a no-brainer here… it has a clean, crisp orange taste at half the price of Cointreau. Choosing cointreau as my secondary (or complimentary) liqueur automatically meant that the alcohol content of this drink will really stand out, since both liquors are around 80-proof. So I added some tartness and acidity to mask the alcohol bite. And, of course, I had to leave the pineapple juice… but this time I used real pineapple juice.

Then there was the Island Blue Pucker. To recreate a “tropical” fruit flavor, I used passion fruit concentrate (there are some pretty good ones out there. I used Perfect Puree… they also make a terrific blood orange concentrate) and Blue Curacao (blue color and complimentary orange flavor).

To round this drink off, I used both Regan’s No. 6 orange bitters and Fee’s Peach Bitters… the peach bitters does little more than add a sweeter nose to this drink, and the orange bitters adds complexity… but I wonder if I should have used good ol’ Angostura instead… Angostura has a spicy quality that pairs excellently with rum.

In short, this is a much, much, much better drink… but in the end, I’m still nostalgic for my original high-fructose collegiate masterpiece.

A side note: the original Time Bomb is still available at both Maloney’s on 4th and O’Malley’s on 4th.