I've already expressed my unyielding love for the mint julep here on Slashfood. So I'm happy to announce that this years Tales of the Cocktail competition is based on none other than my beloved julep.
What's in it for you, bartenders? How about cash money and the honor of having your julep selected as the official cocktail of the 2009 Tales Of The Cocktail festival and published in the official recipe book by Mud Puddle books.
According to noted cocktail historian and one of the judges of the this competition, David Wondrich, bartenders should consider these definitions when creating their juleps:
- A Julep can be based on spirits, wine (or fortified wine) or a combination of the two. - It must be made in a tall (10-14 oz) glass with cracked or shaved ice. - It may contain citrus or other fruit juice, but only in a proportion not to exceed 1/8 of the total volume of liquid (not including ice). - It must include fresh mint. - It must contain sugar or some other sweetener.
For full rules and guidlines plus the entry form, follow this link to Cocktailtimes.com.
Oh, and if you haven't circled your calenders yet, this years Tales Of The Cocktail will be July 8 - 12th
Today is a special day for me. It is a special day for all spirit and cocktail enthusiasts throughout the state of Washington. For in a few hours, several of the nations premier absinthe producers and our own resident experts will gather downtown in a small artists loft for the first event produced by the Washington State Bartender's Guild.
This event will be the exclamation point on a long process that began last summer when I cornered Andrew Friedman, owner of a wonderful local bar named Liberty, and we began discussing how to form a collective of bartenders into a guild, similar to what the bartenders in Oregon had recently done. We recruited several talented bartenders and began laying the groundwork.
We started with a Mission Statement:
The WSBG exists as an organization of professionals and enthusiasts with an enduring mission to elevate the standard of bartending as a craft. The key to this goal is simple: we are a state- wide collaborative community dedicated to a heightened expectation of quality cocktails, spirits, wine and beer, the promotion and recognition of an excellence in service and an ongoing education of our membership.
Before we get started on the continuation of your goal of being a good bartender, I'd like to address publicly a great point brought up by one of our Slashfood readers.
Suzy pointed out in the comment field in the last post that as an alternative to becoming a barback, another way to get your foot in the door is as a cocktail waitress. Great point, and I'd elaborate that to include anybody in the restaurant business. If you're a server and your restaurant has a bar, try asking if you can step behind the bar and train. This is how I got into bartending. Now, ordinarily, this will mean you will be back there for free. Again, this is how I got in. I put in several volunteer hours until I was asked to cover a shift and until finally getting my own shifts. The point is, any way you can get yourself behind a bar and start learning, paid or not, do it.
In fact, I'll go so far as to say that starting as a server is probably the optimal way to go, though the process will take longer. As a barback, you'll get behind the bar quicker and your learning curve on how to work a bar will be shorter, but you'll be missing what I consider a key element of bartending, namely, service. Going through a server training program through a restaurant gives you an eye for the details of good service, an element I think is lacking in many bartenders today. A server in a restaurant would never skimp on the basics such as a) providing water for your guests, b) acknowledging new guests right away with menus and c) patiently explaining the product being offered if asked. I cannot tell you how many bars I go to that skip the bare minimums of good service, as if the bar were a rarefied plane of existence in which these standards don't apply. Good bartending means good service. Period.
Okay, stepping off my soap-box and moving right along . . .
Makes sense; we have a dream of opening our own cocktail lounge someday, so it'd be nice if she could step behind the bar with me and know what she's doing. Better yet if she could stand alone with her arsenal of cocktails and be known about town as a great bartender.
Seeing as how she is married to a one, I'm the obvious choice to begin her training. The question for me is, where to begin? How do you build a bartender from scratch? There is no real established training program or apprenticeship blueprint that I know of that doesn't either a) cost a bunch of money or b) get you physically involved behind a working bar, so I've decided to take a whack at coming up with my own.
In 1934, a former bootlegger opened a 27 seat bar on McFadden place in Hollywood, California. This tiny little bar launched the career of one of the world's greatest bartenders and set in motion an unprecedented 30 year fad that influenced music, fashion, restaurant and hotel design and, of course, drinking.
That bartender was Ernest Raymond Gantt, or as he was better known, Donn Beach. That bar, Don the Beachcomber's, ushered in the Tiki era and provided the template for every Tiki bar to follow.
Walking into a Tiki bar at the height of its craze had to have been a surreal experience, as you moved straight from the Eisenhower era stylings of conservative suburbia into a darkened place draped in fisherman's nets, Polynesian masks, exotic music and most importantly, some of the craziest drinks ever invented.
If there is a more evocative spirit available behind the bar than that of rum, I'm not aware of it. Pour me a glass of rum and within the vapors rises a raucous and even romantic history of joy, tragedy and debauchery: tippling houses in Barbados in the early 1600's, where British settlers supped the earliest permutation of rum, which they referred to as "kill-devil"; jug wielding pirates careening through the streets of Port Royal in Jamaica, wildly spending their pieces of eight plundered from the Spanish and British empires; independence-minded American revolutionaries huddled in taverns drinking rum Flips and plotting their resistance against the heavy taxes imposed upon them by the British; Americans fleeing Prohibition downing Daiquiris and Swizzles in the jammed bars of Havana; opulent tiki palaces serving Mai Tais, flaming Scorpion bowls, Hurricanes and Fog Cutters to lei-festooned business-men and June Cleaveresque housewives. I think of Piña Coladas at the pool, mojitos in a sweaty nightclub, an authentic Daiquiri while laying on a Caribbean beach with the tropical sun dipping into the sea at the horizon line.
Rum is making a comeback, as it has throughout it's history. Whether it's taxation by the British, temperance loonies railing against "demon rum", the long national nightmare of prohibition or weird shifts in tastes toward vodka and synthetic flavoring, rum has always bounced back, and today traditional mixers are left behind. More and more behind the bar, connoisseurs are treating the premium rums with the same regard usually given to high-grade scotchs, bourbons, cognacs and tequilas.
After the jump, in alphabetical order, are a few of those premium rums we're sipping neat these days. It is a wonderful, intoxicating world of flavors I hope you can enjoy as much as I do:
Charles H. Baker Jr. (December 25, 1895 - November 11, 1987) was a true bon vivant who spent most of his adult life traveling the globe, collecting food and drink recipes, the most famous of which being his chronicles on cocktails. Many of those recipes found in this book are seeing new light today at some of the best bars in the world.
If the book only contained recipes, it'd still be an important work in the field of bar manuals. What sets it apart is his prose, at once exotic, irreverent, funny and deadly serious about accuracy. Baker's wonderfully evocative introductions to his drinks alone make it impossible for me not to reach for my cocktail shaker.
Here is his introduction to a drink now finding it's way onto classic cocktail bar menus:
REMEMBER the MAINE, a Hazy Memory of a Night in Havana during the Unpleasantness of 1933, when Each Swallow Was Punctuated with Bombs Going off on the Prado, or the Sound of 3" Shells Being Fired at the Hotel NACIONAL, then Haven for Certain Anti-Revolutionary Officers.
There is an ingredient listed on the cocktail menu at Union which receives more quizzical looks, more gasps of surprise when sampled and generates more chatter than anything else we do in the bar. The complexities of it's aroma and flavors are hard to pin down, though everyone tries. This witches brew of cocktail goodness is popping up in scratch cocktail bars all over the nation, and in the well-stocked homes of cocktail aficionados all over the globe.
I'm talking about falernum, the nectar of the tiki gods.
What falernum used to be and what it has become are totally different. Since the beginning of the tiki boom in the 1930's, falernum has been used as a sweetener used primarily in tropical and Caribbean cocktails. Produced commercially rather sporadically in Bermuda, Barbados and the U.S., it had been, until recently, hard to get consistently. Keeping in line with the notion that you crave the most what you can't get, frustrated bartenders and cocktail historians began tinkering with recipes to produce their own.
In August of last year, I became the luckiest guy in the world when Christine Nylin accepted my proposal for marriage. Being the dork I am, I set out to make up a cocktail symbolizing the event. I named it The Union, which not only highlights the joining of two into one, but also happens to be the name of the restaurant where I tend bar.
That cocktail has gotten a lot of play recently, the recipe popping up on different web sites, magazines and recipe collections. And now, it has another moment in the sun, for on a spectacularly beautiful August 3rd in Seattle, I became even luckier the luckiest guy in the world when Christine became my wife.
In that spirit, I offer up our recipe to share with you. Check it out after the jump.
The boozefest that is Tales Of The Cocktail has been everything I thought it'd be, and I have to admit it's nice, for the moment, to be relatively sober. You see, you can't go very far in New Orleans without being tempted to have a drink. When you throw the world's biggest cocktail and spirit schmoozefest/symposium, it is definitely hard to hold on to your sobriety. Not that any of us want to, of course.
This is just a reminder of something I posted earlier, but should you be interested in following the goings-on at this fantastic event, there is a cocktail blog called, literally enough, Tales Blog. The contributors are bloggers like myself, and we'll be consistently updating the site with differing interpretations. Should this particular site fail to fully scratch the itch, each blogger will also be updating their personal sites, and I strongly encourage you to check them out. They are, in no particular order....
. . . and I know a few of you do during the dog days of summer, here's an alternative to that ubiquitous coconut libation.
The original Painkiller has its genesis in the wonderfully named Soggy Dollar Bar, on the island of Jost Van Dyke in the British Virgin Islands. Since there is no dock for sailors to tie up to, they are forced to swim to shore. Of course, the money gets wet so the proprietors had the novel idea of stringing up a clothesline to air-dry the money. So there you have it, the Soggy Dollar Bar. The owner, a British expat named Daphne Henderson, became locally famous for a cocktail she dubbed The Painkiller. Though it's recipe was kept secret, the rum she used has it's own interesting back-story.
I've got a bias against infusions. I admit it, and I feel so much better for having gotten that off my chest. Why the bias? I'm not sure. Maybe it has something to do with altering the integrity of a spirit. Maybe because everyone with a mason jar has got some science experiment going on behind the bar. Maybe I'd just rather taste the fresh flavors of the fruit/herb/vegetable rather than the vodka-soaked version.
Oh, I know. Most of them don't work. Up until about a month ago, I would have said none of them work. Then, I got to taste Tequila Por Mi Amante.
I have to thank and give credit to Paul Clarke for this one. Paul has introduced me to quite a few cocktails and cocktail ingredients, and I'm a better bartender for having read his site. He is, in my opinion, the best blogger on cocktails on the whole internet and one of the best writers on this topic in the world. Bookmark his site. Go ahead, I'll wait. . . .
Do you have a personal blog? Yes, I do. It's Movingatthespeedoflife.blogspot.com. Longest URL ever! I've been meaning to change it for a long time. I get carpal tunnel symptoms every time I type that thing in. What is your day job, or rather, what do you do when you're not drink blogging? I bartend at Union restaurant in Seattle. Ethan Stowell, the chef and owner, has recently been nominated for a James Beard award (Best NW Chef) and was named among the ten best new chefs of 2008 by Food and Wine magazine. It's an exciting time to be at the restaurant, that's for sure. He gives me freedom behind the bar, so I'm doing my best to offer cocktails that can stand up to all the hard work the kitchen guys are doing. So many restaurants/bartenders just mail it in when it comes to cocktail programs. I want Union to be different. How long have you been blogging with Slashfood and what is your favorite post? Been here since February, I think. Prior to that I blogged for AOL Drinks. My favorite post is the recent Mint Julep post, mostly because of all the beautiful quotes I pulled and that video link brings a tear to this old bartender's eye.
Do you have any non-food-related, non-blogging hobbies? Hobbies? Who has time for hobbies? Does reading count? Does going out on the town?
I know the Kentucky Derby was last month, and by some measures the venerable Mint Julep only crosses our radar then and then only. But when the day is hot and the thirst is mighty, I'd strongly suggest banging out a Julep. In continuing with the mint in cocktails theme, I'd like to cobble together a love letter of sorts to perhaps America's most iconic cocktail. . . an ode to the Mint Julep, in quotes and in a video link:
"They say that you may always know the grave of a Virginian as, from the quantity of julep he has drunk, mint invariably springs up where he has been buried." Frederick Marryat, 1839
"....that the mounds of ices, and the bowls of mint-julep and sherry cobbler they make in these latitudes, are refreshments never to be thought of afterwards, in summer, by those who would preserve contented minds." Charles Dickens, while traveling in America, 1842
"If the mark of a great cocktail is the number of unbreakable rules it generates, then the mint julep may be America's preeminent classic, edging out the martini in a photo finish. William Grimes, 'Straight Up Or On The Rocks'
Nothing signifies late spring/early summer better for me than to see a bartender muddling mint for a cocktail. The light, clean flavors of mint bring a certain delicacy and refreshing quality to a drink, whether it be in the iconic Mint Julep, the omnipresent Mojito or any number of classic or new creations. On a hot summer day, nothing beats a cocktail elevated with the crisp flavor of mint.
Given its fragility, mint is an easy herb to abuse. I've been to a number of bars and home parties where the bartender or host absolutely punish the mint, leaving a bitter, limp cocktail that loses all its intended charm. Truth be told, a great Julep or Mojito is harder than you'd think. Personally, I struggled for a long time with mint cocktails, simply because, like most people, I didn't understand what I was dealing with.
Even though the crust of your pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving turned out flaky and buttery, consider everyone "pie"-ed out. Try these non-pie ways to use up leftover disk of dough.
I've already expressed my unyielding love for the mint julep here on Slashfood. So I'm happy to announce that this years Tales of the Cocktail competition is based on none other than my beloved julep.
Today is a special day for me. It is a special day for all spirit and cocktail enthusiasts throughout the state of Washington. For in a few hours, several of the nations premier absinthe producers and our own resident experts will gather downtown in a small artists loft for the first event produced by the Washington State Bartender's Guild. 
Before we get started on the continuation of your goal of being a good bartender, I'd like to address publicly a great point brought up by one of our Slashfood readers.
My wife wants to be a bartender.
In 1934, a former bootlegger opened a 27 seat bar on McFadden place in Hollywood, California. This tiny little bar launched the career of one of the world's greatest bartenders and set in motion an unprecedented 30 year fad that influenced music, fashion, restaurant and hotel design and, of course, drinking.
If there is a more evocative spirit available behind the bar than that of rum, I'm not aware of it. Pour me a glass of rum and within the vapors rises a raucous and even romantic history of joy, tragedy and debauchery: tippling houses in Barbados in the early 1600's, where British settlers supped the earliest permutation of rum, which they referred to as "kill-devil"; jug wielding pirates careening through the streets of Port Royal in Jamaica, wildly spending their pieces of eight plundered from the Spanish and British empires; independence-minded American revolutionaries huddled in taverns drinking rum Flips and plotting their resistance against the heavy taxes imposed upon them by the British; Americans fleeing Prohibition downing Daiquiris and Swizzles in the jammed bars of Havana; opulent tiki palaces serving Mai Tais, flaming Scorpion bowls, Hurricanes and Fog Cutters to lei-festooned business-men and June Cleaveresque housewives. I think of Piña Coladas at the pool, mojitos in a sweaty nightclub, an authentic Daiquiri while laying on a Caribbean beach with the tropical sun dipping into the sea at the horizon line.
Long before there was a 
There is an ingredient listed on the cocktail menu at Union which receives more quizzical looks, more gasps of surprise when sampled and generates more chatter than anything else we do in the bar. The complexities of it's aroma and flavors are hard to pin down, though everyone tries. This witches brew of cocktail goodness is popping up in scratch cocktail bars all over the nation, and in the well-stocked homes of cocktail aficionados all over the globe.
In August of last year, I became the luckiest guy in the world when Christine Nylin accepted my proposal for marriage. Being the dork I am, I set out to make up a cocktail symbolizing the event. I named it The Union, which not only highlights the joining of two into one, but also happens to be the name of the restaurant where I tend bar.
The boozefest that is Tales Of The Cocktail has been everything I thought it'd be, and I have to admit it's nice, for the moment, to be relatively sober. You see, you can't go very far in New Orleans without being tempted to have a drink. When you throw the world's biggest cocktail and spirit schmoozefest/symposium, it is definitely hard to hold on to your sobriety. Not that any of us want to, of course.
. . . and I know a few of you do during the dog days of summer, here's an alternative to that ubiquitous coconut libation.
Do you have a personal blog? Yes, I do. It's 
Nothing signifies late spring/early summer better for me than to see a bartender muddling mint for a cocktail. The light, clean flavors of mint bring a certain delicacy and refreshing quality to a drink, whether it be in the iconic Mint Julep, the omnipresent Mojito or any number of classic or new creations. On a hot summer day, nothing beats a cocktail elevated with the crisp flavor of mint.
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