"RaisingTheBar" news and stories

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 . . .

My wife wants to be a bartender.

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.

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.