Written and conceived by B

Alcohol Resource, LLC

Module 1 - Spirits Basics
Spirits through the Ages
Alcohol is not new. It’s older than history and, for many historians, mankind’s story began when alcohol
was first brewed in the Fertile Crescent of western Asia, today referred to as the Middle East. The Middle
East was fertile 7,000 years ago, and they grew grains, the building blocks of agriculture and, by
extension, civilization. Some of those grains were ground up and baked into bread. But bread gets moldy,
even if it’s not stored in a plastic sack on top of your fridge. So farmers brewed the grains into beer and,
with alcohol’s assistance, the caloric, nutritional value of the grain lasted longer than the bread.

There aren’t records to tell us precisely when this happened, but by 4000 B.C. there was a lot of beer
being consumed throughout the Crescent. Thousands of miles to the east, rice farmers in China and
Southeast Asia were making beer as well. Rice (as the brewers at Budweiser can tell you) makes very
nice beer.

Most of this occurred long before historical records were kept. Many books on the subject of ancient
forms of alcohol insist that beer making was an accident. Ill-informed authors write that grains were
stored in dried clay amphorae, where moisture caused the grains to sprout and more water seeped in and,
as if by magic, alcohol was created. These stories do a great injustice to our ancestors for whom sheer
necessity ensured that they were in fact smarter than most of us today when it came to fashioning
drinkable and edible things from the world around them. In order to create beer from wet grains and
water, a brewer (even 6,000 years ago) had to be careful about cleanliness and had to boil the grains and
perhaps even add a few flowers (most brewers use hops flowers today) or even some tree bark to the
mixture to keep it from spoiling.

And, let’s not forget, brewing alcohol was about protecting something life-sustaining from spoilage.
Alcohol is a preservative. It inhibits oxygen’s slow destruction of many aromas, flavors, nutrients and
vitamins in foods and medicines. And people use alcohol topically because it kills pathogens and bacteria.
Moreover, it can do the same internally. Spoiled food can kill; but a dose of alcohol can kill the germs in
spoiled food before they kill the eater.

Think of Biblical times and you might recall the storied habit of mixing water with wine. It’s true. People
often consumed wine mixed with water. Wine’s central position in the Judeo-Christian traditions is
unquestioned. So adding water to wine wasn’t a scheme intended to dilute wine’s impact, though it did
that. Rather, water was dangerous, filled with bacteria and pathogens and as likely to harm as to help. But
humans need water to live and until about two centuries ago nobody knew why some water made people
sick and some water didn’t.
LE IPIRITS BASICS
Even 5,000 years ago, our ancestors knew that if you added wine to even the most suspicious water, that
water wouldn’t make people sick. Try it sometime. Say you’re in the wilds (those areas with crowds of
things called trees) and only brackish water is available. Mix equal parts of the scary water with wine
(with at least a 12 percent alcohol levels), wait about a half an hour, and the water becomes safe to drink.
Humans living in the cramped and concentrated confines of newly created towns thousands of years ago
didn’t have much fresh and clean water available. Now you know why people mixed wine with water.
Wine and beer were indispensable to human life, especially when those humans were residents of the new
cities and towns that would later become the sites of laws, rules, rulers, writers, musicians, artists,
religious leaders and, eventually, historians. Those early historians wrote about alcoholic beverages, and
today we can read about beers and wines grown not only in the Middle East and in China, but in northern
Africa (where the Egyptians invented straws to assist them in drinking their cloudy, viscous beers), in
Mexico and Latin America (home of pulque, about which we’ll hear later), in Turkey, in western Africa,
in Italy, in Greece, in Japan, in India and of course in the British Isles.

Nearly 5,000 years ago, the Orkney Islands in northern Scotland produced beers for religious purposes.
The beers used in the rituals of those ancient peoples contained poisonous plants and mushrooms, among
other ingredients. Visions were guaranteed, even if the priest drinking the beer might not return from that
particular beer crawl.

Beer and wine producers had learned that many different plants, seeds, flowers, trees, even minerals,
could increase their drink’s stability and longevity. Some of those additives made for religious, mystical
and even magical experiences. But eventually all those beers and wines would go bad. Even today, we
speak in hushed tones of certain bottles of wine that live twenty, thirty, even one hundred years. But that
kind of longevity requires a perfect wine cellar, filled with glass bottles closed with tight cork stoppers.
Those are recent inventions.

However, as the alcohol level rises, the longevity and purity increase. At some point, early civilizations
discovered how to make high-proof distilled spirit. A distilled spirit is far stouter in alcoholic strength and
purer than any wine or beer and, importantly, such concentrated alcohol is impervious to most of nature’s
challenges, whether from bacteria, pathogens, seasonal climate changes or even time.

But, like the discovery of beer or wine, there’s no way to be certain when and where the initial distillation
happened. As mixology historian and cocktail author David Wondrich, BAR’s “Historical Oracle,” likes
to note, getting the history of alcohol straight is pretty difficult, since you’re trying to collect the facts
from people who’ve been drinking. It might have happened anywhere. But there are tantalizing clues as to
distillation’s origins.

How to Distill
Why distil? The foremost reason is because you can. In fact, it’s surprisingly easy to turn beer or wine
into a purer, more powerful distilled spirit. The method is not at all obscure, at its root. If you have boiled
a kettle of water for tea or coffee in your life, you have begun the process of distillation. Boiling is the
action of turning a liquid into a gas. Water does that at 100° Celsius/212° Fahrenheit.

Distillation is, by definition, the purposeful application of intense heat to separate alcohol from water,
creating alcohol vapor, which is then cooled to turn the vapors back into higher-alcohol liquid through
condensation.

Here’s the key: while alcohol and water form a tight bond (otherwise they’d separate at room
temperature), if you apply energy in the form of heat to an alcohol-water mixture, that bond will break.
Since alcohol is lighter than water, it has a lower boiling point. So if you have a beer or a wine, the
alcohol level is probably at about 6 to 8 percent (if it’s a beer) or 10 to 12 percent (if it’s a wine—
remember, we’re talking about millennia ago, when winemaking still had a ways to go). But bring that
beer or wine up to about 78° C/173° F, and the alcohol, with its lower boiling point, will tear itself free
from the water molecules to which it is bound and change state from liquid into vapor. Meanwhile, the
water will remain in liquid form.
So, now you have vaporized only the alcohol. If you can figure out a way to collect this alcohol vapor
before it blows away and cool it to the point that it condenses back to liquid again, you will have
successfully separated alcohol from water. Now you can throw away the water and just drink the alcohol.
Just remember: HEAT-VAPOR-COOLINGCONDENSATION-LIQUID. Call the gang because it’s time
to parTAY.

Fermentation
BarSmarts isn’t a wine or beer course. Yet if all distilled spirits are made from wine or beer (and they
are), then we have to start by explaining a bit about wine and beer. Both fermented products are the
results of the actions of yeasts, invisible critters that (in a grossly simplified manner) chew up sugars and
expel alcohol, heat and carbon dioxide (CO2). In beer production, we hang on to that carbon dioxide and
the beer has, as a result, bubbles. Unless we’re making sparkling wine, we let the carbon dioxide dissipate
into the atmosphere when fermenting wine.

As we’ve cited earlier, beer making required that communities of people grow grain and have enough of it
that there were some leftovers. Thousands of years ago, folks figured out that if you make a sort of soup
out of water and recently sprouted grains, then boil it to remove impurities, the yeasts that live all around
us in the air and even on our bodies will do the rest.

Wine is even simpler. Instead of sprouting grains and making soup and boiling it and then waiting for the
yeasts to arrive courtesy of the wind, the yeasts usually live right on the grapes. They know what’s
coming and as soon as the grapes are squished, the natural yeasts can begin the job of converting sweet
grape juice into wine. It’s such a natural process that it took a mid-nineteenth century New Jersey
teetotaler and farmer named Thomas Bramwell Welch years of experimentation before he figured out
how to keep grape juice from turning into wine. His company, Welch’s, is still doing the same thing a
century and a half later.

In all probability, mankind’s first alcohol beverage was wine. Any hunter-gatherer who had eaten his or
her fill of grapes would have stuck the remaining grapes into a container with a lid so the bugs couldn’t
get to them. As soon as a few grapes were crushed inside the container, juice would have been let loose
and the fermentation process would have begun. Perhaps the primitive winemaker would have been
dumbstruck by the sight of the grape container gently shaking and the lid popping as the carbon dioxide
escaped from the container. Speaking for ourselves, we suspect eager anticipation would more likely have
been the feeling at the time.

Three, four, five days later, something else other than plain grape juice was in that jar. Okay, so it was not
Chateau Lafite, but it contained alcohol and, thousands of years ago, it would have been a welcome
respite from the daily rigors of the period. Maybe it was the perfect accompaniment to raw bison or
grilled ribs of warthog au jus.

Today, winemaking is little changed. The winemaker’s work is much the same, only now winemakers
agonize over things like the source of the grapes; when to pick the grapes; at what temperature to start the
fermentation; what sort of vessel they should choose for the fermentation (Stainless steel? Oak barrels?);
the temperature during the fermentation (remember that fermentation creates heat, so most fermenters
have glycol cooling jackets to control that heat); when to remove the grape skins from the wine or juice;
what sort of container to place the wine into for resting and maturation; where the container should be
stored (in a dark, cold cellar or in the sun, as with some fortified wines); and when it should be bottled
and sold. The rest is, well, to phrase it kindly, just marketing.

Now, people have long realized that wine and beer have something in them, some special essence, that
makes them different from plain water or fruit juice; something that might possibly be extracted and
concentrated. Aristotle hinted at this process in 327 B.C., but we have no hard proof that his fellow
Greeks employed it on any significant level. Nonetheless, he was the one who gave the name of “spirit” to
the product of distillation. He thought drinking a distilled beer or wine put “spirits” into the body of the
drinker.

But the good news about spirits is that they leave the body. Aristotle knew that. That’s exactly why he
said those were spirits: temporary visitors to each drinker’s mind and body. The human body is adept at
processing alcohol. Indeed, the body appears to have been created to process alcohol, in the stomach, in
the intestines, and, of course, in the liver. Humans have evolved, it would seem, in the presence of
alcohol. How convenient.

Distillation – The Pot Still

Every liquor—from vodka to Irish whiskey to cognac to tequila to (Heaven help us!) root-beer
schnapps—begins its life as some kind of wine or beer; in other words, as a fermented beverage.
Distillation cannot create alcohol; it merely concentrates it. In the process it leaves behind a lot of the
water (and now it’s bacteria-free water) as well as some other nutrients and flavors.

For most of history, the stills that did this concentrating were simple devices, consisting of some kind of
fireproof pot (a.k.a. kettle) to hold the “wash” (the alcohol-bearing liquid being distilled). Atop the pot
was a tight-fitting cover designed to capture the alcohol-rich vapor that rises from the wash when it’s
heated and allow it to cool off enough so that it will condense back into liquid form. This liquid is then
drawn off into a separate container, or holding vat.

One pot/kettle/still is, truth be told, pretty much like another. The condensing tops, however, are a
different matter. Historically, these vary in form depending on where and when they originated. There are
three basic kinds: the Indian, the Middle Eastern and the Chinese. The historical relationship between
them is murky, and questions such as which came first and how they influenced each other (if they did at
all) still lack definitive answers.

That said, if archaeological evidence, uncovered in the 1960s in a part of the Indian subcontinent that is
now Pakistan, is to be believed, the Indian style appears in all likelihood to be the oldest, dating back to
between 500 and 300 B.C. Also known as the “elephant’s head,” it takes the form of a large pottery bulb
with an opening in the bottom to fit over the mouth of the pot and a downward-slanting tube sticking out
of one side (hence the name). The vapor passes up into the bulbous head and begins to cool, moves
through the tube into another pot, this one most likely cooled by running water, and condenses back into
liquid. Archaeologists discovered facilities with large numbers of these set-ups, indicating distillation on a
commercial scale was going on in the centuries just before Christ.
ODULE I
The Middle Eastern style is similar to the Indian one, except the head is made large enough for it to
remain relatively cool when the pot is heated, so that the vapor will condense on its interior surface and
drip down the sides, where it is collected in an internal gutter and drawn off by a tube. First documented
among the Greeks living in Egypt at around the first century A.D., it’s possible that in late antiquity it was
used to distil wine, but if so it was a closely guarded secret, and the evidence for it remains ambiguous.

The Arabs, who adopted it after their conquest of Egypt in the 600s, used distillation not for concentrating
alcohol for consumption, but rather for the production of medicines and perfumes. The fact that
Mohammed and the Qur’an were explicitly clear on the notion that “the righteous man does not drink
wine” or any other kind of alcohol might have had something to do with this.
Nonetheless, prominent Muslim scholars/chemists/physicians of the A.D. 900-1100 era, in particular
Geber and Avicenna, did much experimenting with distilling technology and wrote about it frequently in
their books and essays, some of which exist to this day.

Finally, there’s the Chinese style, which may have been last out of the gate—it apparently dates to the
fifth century A.D.—but within a century or so it was being used to make spirits in commercial quantities,
based both on grapes and grains. In its basic form, the Chinese stillhead is merely a wok-shaped bowl that
seals to the top of the pot. When it is filled with cold water, the rising vapor will condense on its
underside and drip off of the lowest point. In the simplest versions, this is collected in a bowl placed on a
stand inside the pot. More sophisticated versions drain the bowl into a tube running out the side of the
still.

Very likely it wasn’t until the 1100s that distillation of alcohol began in Europe, most probably either
among educated Arabs living in Spain (the Islamic Moors occupied Spain from A.D. 711 to AD 1492) or
the community of Christian scholar-monks-physicians gathered at the southern Italian port of Salerno. We
don’t know what kind of still they used—it was probably the Middle Eastern one. At the time, Europe
was in contact with China, too. By the 1300s, we know that they were employing both the Middle Eastern
style still and an adaptation of it that brought it closer to the original, Indian style.

This last, an all-copper contraption, where the pot is topped by a bulbous head with a “swan’s neck”,
meaning a curved outflow tube, that is attached to a water-cooled copper coil (an Italian invention) to
condense the vapor, spread throughout Europe. Northern Europeans distilled grain based beers while
southern Europeans distilled grape and fruit wines.

By the 1500s, the Italians were using distillation to make herbal liqueurs (for medicinal purposes) and
brandies (for woo-hoo purposes), the French to make grape brandy, the Eastern Europeans to make
vodka, the Germans schnapps, the Irish and Scots whisk(e)y, and the Germans and Dutch juniper-flavored
genever. Indeed, give or take a little tinkering, this is the pot still, most made of copper, used today to
make cognac, single-malt Scotch and a host of other spirits.

There is one part of the Western world, however, where the Chinese-style still caught on: in the 1500s,
Philippine sailors working on Spanish ships introduced it to Mexico, where it was utilized to distil
coconut brandy and mezcal. In parts of Oaxaca, Chinese-style stills remain in use today, ancient clay-and-
bamboo affairs that look like an ill-timed stumble would crumble them to dust.

Distillation – The Continuous Still

Pot stills, or metal kettles, were all anyone required for successful distillation for most of human history.
And, in truth, prior to the eighteenth century, there wasn’t all that much spirit being distilled; you’ve got
to have large volumes of beer or wine left over before you’ll give it over to the stillman. It’s not unusual
to start with thirty-five or forty gallons of beer and end up with only a gallon of spirit.

It was not until the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries that human labor was being organized for
efficiency (the better to make money with, of course). The businessmen driving the Industrial Revolution
were bound to look at each and every activity in hopes of increasing output and generating more dollars
for the owners. And pot stills, by their very nature, are notoriously inefficient and labor-intensive. For
instance, should you want to create nearly pure alcohol, what is today called neutral spirit, it could take a
week’s worth of repeated distillations in a pot still to reach 95 percent alcohol. And each distillation
requires that someone get into the pot and clean the burnt scum and debris off the bottom, lest it damage
the still and impart nasty, burnt flavors to the spirit.
So several innovative people decided distillation needed to serve the masters of industrial efficiency.
Perhaps surprisingly, even with this process, one that happened little more than two centuries ago,
historians are not in agreement. Indeed, the question of who should receive credit for inventing the
“continuous still,” the term we use for this collection of rocket ship-shaped cylindrical stills that are the
dominant tool for distillers today, is hotly debated.

Was it Robert Stein, a Scotsman who dreamed up the idea of placing several pot stills one on top of the
other? In other words, he designed a cylinder that had many chambers inside. Each chamber was like a
little pot, only with perforations in the top and bottom, except for the very bottom chamber. Fill that one
with beer and then apply heat to it and the alcohol wafts into the chamber above it. While some of that
escapes into the chamber above that, most of it hits the perforated plate and turns back into a liquid,
rolling down to meet hot, steaming alcohol vapor rising back up. So, over and over again, the alcohol is
continuously distilled. Hence, the name.

Some accounts claim that Stein never finished his proposed still. He eventually joined forces with an Irish
exciseman by the name of Aeneas Coffey, who brought the project to reality; a version called the Coffey
still. Indeed, like Stein, Coffey took out a patent on it—in fact, “patent still” became another term for
continuous still.

But, like we say, beverage alcohol history can be as murky as a glass full of dregs. About the same time—
the 1820s—a Frenchman named Jean-Edouard Adam had created his own version of this still and his was
also referred to as a patent still. In the 1880s in Sweden, Lars Olsson Smith built a similar contraption; at
the ripe old age of sixteen, he was using it to create a neutral grain spirit he called Absolut Brannt Vodka,
or completely pure vodka. Smith’s brand expressed his goal: by distilling to a higher proof than
previously possible in pot stills, he was creating a purer kind of spirit.

All of these variations worked basically the same way: cold wash drips in through the top of the column,
and as it drips down through a series of perforated plates, the steam rising from the heated bottom of the
column strips other more volatile compounds, which are in turn condensed as they rise by more cold wash
dripping down. The plates have raised rims around the holes so that they can catch the dripping liquid,
which is then drawn off through a tube in the side of the column.

In general, the column still allowed the distiller to turn beer into nearly pure alcohol. With mid-nineteenth
century innovations, the column still (a.k.a. continuous, patent, Coffey still) didn’t require the distiller to
stop and clean the still once a day. One could keep it running as long as one had more wash to pump in.
Thus, distillers were able to distill humungous volumes of spirit in column stills compared to the small,
individual batches delivered by pot stills.

These industrial improvements had as their goal a purer, higher-proof and—most importantly—cheaper
spirit. That doesn’t mean the spirits had improved in quality. As we shall see, greater purity is not
necessarily synonymous with greater quality. In fact, many traditional distillers were horrified that these
stills had become, by the end of the nineteenth century, the tool of choice, forever increasing the numbers
of their competitors. But those holdouts and their old-fashioned products were nearly drowned by the
flood of cheaper, higher-proof product that was brought to market.

In some countries, pot stills endured among the artisanal producers, some of whom were supported by the
wealthy or the nobility (for example, in Russia and Poland), some of whom simply labored in remote or
nearly forgotten regions (the Scottish Highlands and the Islands or in the secluded glens of Ireland). Even
today, the myth endures: that a spirit is superior because it has been distilled many times in a continuous
still, and therefore it is purer. The number of distillations has little to do with the quality of the product. It
is the quality of those distillations, no matter the type of still, that counts.
Distillation - Where Does Quality Originate?
Not surprisingly, quality in a spirit comes from attention to detail. Was the grain free from defects? Was
the wine without flaws? Was the fermentation efficient? Was the product that resulted kept from growing
wee beasties that add bizarre and off-putting aromas? Was the still clean and properly maintained? Was
the yeast used in fermentation pure? Was the water source uncontaminated? (Stills utilize lots of water.)

But the single most important factor in determining a spirit’s quality is determined by what distillers call
the “cut.” To explain: as the wine or beer begins to vaporize, the first few vapors that rise up are not
necessarily good, since they contain methyl alcohol (oh, Mama, not good) and hot, piercing aromas (even
worse). Once the temperature rises above the about 78° Celsius/173° Fahrenheit mark, the distillation is in
full roil, and most of the vapor represents the “heart” of the wine or beer, the very best or at least the most
representative aromas and flavors coming from that beer or wine (aside: you can see why the quality of
the beer or wine has a big influence).

Eventually, the alcohol will begin to be exhausted, leaving a number of heavier organic compounds,
including water, of course, but also a selection of oils and compounds. As a result, this tail end of the
distillation (indeed, many call this part the “tails”) can have aromas and flavors that are offensively
pungent. A skilled distiller will influence the quality of his or her spirit by making sure the wine or beer is
of good quality and in good condition by controlling the temperature of the distillation and, more
importantly, by making a skillful “cut,” or selection, between the “heads” and “tails”, keeping only the
heart (although often the heads are returned for further distillation, in the hope of extracting whatever
alcohol might be contained in them).

So, then, the number of times a product is distilled represents, gee, let’s see, what’s the word? Oh, yes:
marketing.
MODULE I
But the marketers aren’t completely wrong in talking about the number of distillations, though they’ve
recently overplayed their hand. Each time a product is distilled, whether in a pot still or a continuous still,
the stillman has a chance to cut heads and tails, and to purify the spirit further. Whether he or she does so
is a matter of personal integrity and skill, along with the cost a distillery is willing to accept for the
product. Each time you cut heads and tails, you are either throwing away or at least recycling (usually
back into the beer) hard spirit that could have otherwise been sold for cold, hard cash.

Each time a cut is made, flavors are removed. Those flavors represent all sorts of alcohol and lipids and
fatty acids and organic and inorganic compounds but we tend to collect them all together under the rubric
“congeners.” As we’ve explained, some of those flavors (or congeners) are bad, but some of them are
interesting, and others are even delicious.

So, the higher proof to which a product is distilled, the more likely it is that the spirit that comes out of
the other end of the still has fewer flavors and aromas. For that reason, the liquid that comes out of a
continuous still, at 190-proof or higher, is called “neutral grain spirit” if it is made from grain, and
“neutral grape spirit” if it is made from grapes. It’s neutral, or at least relatively so. Most of us just call it
vodka.

As long as we’re discussing how quality happens, let’s address the much-ballyhooed matter of the shape
of the still. Certain distillers place an almost-mystical faith in the power of little eccentricities in the shape
of a pot still to affect the spirit that it produces. Indeed, they can be practically as secretive about that as
gin producers tend to be about the particulars of the botanical recipe they’re using.
As crazy as it sounds, the shape of the pot still does have a profound effect on the spirit it produces, down
to the dents, dimples, and dings in the side of a copper still. When they are forced to replace it (copper
being a malleable metal, they do wear out), they’ll place the new still right next to the old one and
reproduce every little blemish they can, in the belief that to do otherwise would compromise the integrity
of their spirit. They’re not crazy. The shape and makeup of the still really matters, as do the temperature
of the water and even the proximity of the ocean and a million other obscure little environmental factors.

Whether you use a pot still or a continuous still, you might be trying to make something cheap or
something great. The real art comes in producing a spirit that is both inexpensive and delicious.

Maturation
The usual line about barrel maturation is that it was a serendipitous discovery that spirits improved when
aged in barrels. But as with the discovery of beer making, we do our ancestors a disservice to ignore their
familiarity with barrels and their effects. Since Roman times, specifically the third century A.D., barrels
have been used to transport materials, like coins, nails, olives/olive oil, wine, dried fruit, salted meats and
fish, because barrels protect their contents and can even be relied upon to float (at least for a while) if the
barrel should topple over the side of a pier, ski or barque.

Perhaps most important, barrels improved upon the existing containers, hardened clay and therefore
brittle amphorae, in their sturdiness and their ability to roll. A cylinder resting on a single point, a barrel
filled with whiskey may weigh over 200 kilos (440 pounds), yet one person can easily roll it, even uphill.
And the Romans also noted that some (please take note of that word some) drinks improved inside those
barrels, whether wines or beers.

If there is no 1,000-plus year tradition of barrel-aging for spirits, that may owe more to the lack of extra
available spirit than to any intention. For a long time, spirits were stored in anything that would hold
them. Since the virtue of high proof is that it’s impervious to most of what nature and time would throw
its way, the storage vessel didn’t matter greatly. It’s not until the advent of commerce with the New
World that there is a marked move toward oak barrels for long-term spirits storage.

Until the 1600s, most of the drinks boarded on a ship bound for the Americas were consumed long before
arrival. Eventually some spirits flowed in the other direction. The European powers quickly realized that
the great spice hoards they had sought by traveling west (remember, Columbus thought he was traveling
west to India and hence called the natives Indians) were still many thousands of miles farther across the
Pacific. They sought what riches they could find.

There were plenty of new and exciting foods, as well as some exotic captives to parade around the court
(oh, yes, and a little gold and silver, too). Eventually, an exciting and stimulating white powder joined
those products: sugar. When you have sugar, you have molasses; when you have molasses, you have rum.
It would be a while, though, before that most useful spirit was flowing back across the pond.

But the late 1500s, there was enough rum being made in Brazil, for instance, that the King of Portugal
slapped a massive tariff on imported rum. The same sort of preventive medicine would be applied in other
countries against their local spirits (by Napoleon against the Caribbean Islands or in Mexico with “Mezcal
Conyac,” as some merchants called it), for the colonial method has always been to take raw materials
back home, refashion them into something more expensive and sell them back to the colonies from which
the raw goods were taken in the first place.

The point being, there weren’t a lot of barrels being used for shipping spirits back to Europe. So despite
Scottish and Irish insistence that whisk(e)y as we know it (a barrel-aged, beer-based distillate) is an
invention of the British Isles, the Americas might in a bit of a stretch be able to claim as much
themselves.

While European settlers in the Americas busily created ports from which goods and materials could be
shipped back home, they were slower to move far inland. But when they did, barrels were the vessel of
choice for everything. Two of the larger scale trades were between the Caribbean Islands and the ports of
North and South America, and between the American interior and what would become the Atlantic
coastal communities of the United States. To some degree, the spirits that formed part of that trade remain
among the most famous of barrelaged spirits: aged Caribbean rum and bourbon whiskey.

The barrels used in spirits production were often leftover from the transport of wines or spirits from the
motherland. There were plenty of barrels and little reason not to use them (only in the last century have
straight bourbon and rye whiskeys been legally required to be aged in brand new charred American white
oak barrels). In fact, most early distillers were happy to lay their hands on any sort of barrel at all. Even
today, when dedicated industries (cooperages) have come into being to supply barrels just for spirits
making, a great many distillers rely instead on once-used bourbon barrels, available in plenty since the
bourbon producers aren’t allowed by law to reuse them.

Broadly speaking, there are two origins of oak barrels: Europe and America. The two harbor different
species of oaks, and that may be the smaller difference. Instead, it’s in the transformation of oak to barrel
where the two have differed most. In Europe, the tradition has been to split the broad-grained oak on its
grain, air-dry those split staves for two to three years, then assemble the staves and bind them with
hoops, using a small fire, perhaps some steam (and a bit of animal power) to ply the staves into a
cylindrical shape. These methods are ideal for wines, whether white or red, as well as for brandies.

American oaks are tighter-grained and therefore the cooper can saw the staves against the grain, as
needed, and they won’t leak. As a result, some people feel that American oak barrels (especially when
used for wine) exhibit a sawdust-like smell that shows up in wine, for better (think Zinfandel or Shiraz) or
worse (think Chardonnay).

Either the fast pace of American life or American know- how could be the culprit, but the tradition for
American oak was to age it briefly outside and then bake it inside a kiln, instead of waiting all those years
for air-drying. Drying the staves has two purposes: to get the moisture content of the barrels down to
about 12 percent, and to leach some of the harsher character of the oak’s tannins and lignins out of the
wood. Air-drying and exposure to the elements and seasons accomplishes both; kiln drying does not.

Today, American barrel producers are air-drying some of their barrels, especially those intended for wine,
for greater periods of time. But differences persist. And the greatest difference between European and
American barrel production is that American whiskey barrels are severely burnt (charred really) on the
inside. European barrels, and wine barrels in general, are not; they are lightly toasted. That’s right,
toasted, just like a piece of toast. Indeed, when you buy a wine barrel, you will specify toast levels of
light, medium or heavy, more or less the way you would set the little dial on your kitchen toaster.

There are some who think American whiskey barrels were traditionally burnt to sterilize them for re-use.
Since virtually all consumer goods were being transported by barrel, the barrel in which you were about
to pour your precious whiskey might previously have held tar or nails. Best to burn the inside and be sure
to remove any flavors.

On the other hand, a study of scientific journals in the early nineteenth century, when the American
whiskey industry was establishing its practices, discloses a good deal of discussion about the benefits of
charred barrels for storing both spirits and water, due to the interaction between the liquid and the layer of
purifying carbon thus produced. So it’s quite possible that American distillers, always a technologically
driven lot, were merely following the best industrial practices of the day. And indeed, the stereotypical
general store of America’s frontier always had a water barrel so that anybody could grab a cup and have a
drink of clean water. The inside of that barrel was charred, too. Today, your glass of bourbon has a
smoky, sooty, even burnt note because of the barrel in which it was aged.

So, the kind of barrel and the way it has been made are critical to determining the flavors that show up in
a whiskey. But just as important is the age of the barrel. A brand new barrel, legally required in bourbon
production, has a great deal of flavor to impart. A used barrel, less so, as the flavor impact fades with
every passing year until the barrel becomes a nearly neutral vessel. Not every barrel is made from oak, it
must be also noted. The Brazilians use native woods for their cachaças; Italian chestnut is less used today
than a half century ago, but you can still find it in Italy and also in Japan.

While we will wrap up this unit with a detailed module on the basics of spirits tasting, here we must note
that one of the least understood things about in aging spirits is how the barrel (especially when new) can
impart flavors of smoke, spice, caramel, butterscotch and vanilla, among a myriad of others after
extended contact. In Cognac, a new 400-liter barrel will absorb 12 liters of new spirit when eau-de-vie of
the pot still is pumped into the barrel. The process of wood and spirit mingling charts the direction for the
future of the evolving spirit and cannot be overestimated.

But if the very act of putting the spirit in a barrel imparts something to it, the amount of time in barrel
gives something else. A barrel is a porous environment and thus allows in oxygen which, in concert with
the oak itself and the many potential congeners found in the spirit, will substantially add to or alter that
spirit’s flavor and texture. Typically, the longer a spirit is aged in barrel, the more it will show
confectionery notes of chocolate, almond, walnut, prune, fig, date, raisin and the like. Storing the barrel in
a warm, humid environment can hasten these developments. A cooler, more temperate site, such as in
Scotland or Ireland, slows the maturation process down. Scottish master distillers routinely claim that
over 60 percent of a whisky’s flavor comes from the oak barrel.

Finally, too many people assume that the older the spirit is and the longer it has been aged in barrel, the
better it must be. True, if only because of evaporation and rarity, it’s very likely that the oldest spirit will
be the most expensive spirit you’ll see. A barrel, as noted above, is a porous vessel, and as much as 15
percent of the contents of that barrel might evaporate in a year’s time in tropical climates, while the figure
is usually much lower (2 to 5 percent) in temperate climates. Distillers relish calling this evaporation, the
“angel’s share”, though we would have thought that the loss of valuable spirit might have brought less
celestial thieves to mind.

But any drink, whether it’s wine, beer or spirits, and whether those spirits are aged or enjoyed more or
less straight from the still, ought to be judged on balance and on deliciousness. A balanced drink (as we
shall see) is one that has lots of aromatic and flavor notes, but allows the mind, nose and mouth to linger
over all of them, instead of being whacked over the head by one powerful note.

When a spirit comes off of the still, depending on its raw materials, it is likely to have various fruity,
earthy, vegetal, herbal, floral and even spicy aromas and flavors. Those should form part of the interest
for the drinker. A barrel adds more spice, but also nuttiness, caramel, butterscotch and the like. Time in a
barrel should make the spirit softer. In a great spirit, all of these elements intermingle. Any spirit, no
matter how great, will eventually lose that balance if left too long in the wood; indeed, all of its fruit will
fade away, only to be replaced by tannins from the barrel. In a spirit like that, the nose can be intriguing to
many people, but the mouth will be bitter, dusty and astringent.
How long is too long? As noted before, it depends upon the spirit, the barrel and where the aging is
happening. Some distillers will say that one year in a hot place like the Caribbean causes rapid aging, and
that it takes three years in cool Scotland or Ireland to equal that year. So there’s no formula, but an
important axiom to remember is this: the oldest spirit isn’t necessarily the best spirit.

Other Methods of Softening Spirits

If barrels were first utilized for transport, we know that people quickly figured out that they could soften
and deepen a spirit, making it more alluring and for many people easier to enjoy than the fiery stuff out of
the still. While many stills today are massive contraptions manned by personnel cloaked in white lab
smocks, ordinary people, like farmers and merchants who might as well have been moonshiners, made
most historical spirits. Readers of this manual are not expected to have tasted moonshine or true poteen
(aka in Ireland, poitin, potcheen), but your teachers have (in the spirit of research only) and can assure
you that “white dog,” as some call it, usually needs a bit of taming.

Barrels were one answer. But in many other instances, filtration was used. Moreover, the oldest of spirits
brands (Kummel, Benedictine, Chartreuse and the like) might have seen barrels, but relied more upon
flavorings, such as honey, to dampen their heat. In the next module, we’ll talk about liqueur production,
but sweetening and flavoring have been used since time immemorial to tone down the fire of distillate.
After all, what is a cocktail but a delicious and softened vehicle for alcohol consumption?

Filtration is a newer method for softening the fiery potion, at least in comparison to flavoring. Lots of
producers have done so. The Russians and Poles elevated filtration to an art for neutral grain spirits. To
some degree, the definition of vodka is that it is a neutral grain spirit, distilled to remove as many
impurities—good and bad—as possible, then further filtered to remove the last traces of them. In the
vodka tasting, we’ll notice that flavors and aromas remain nonetheless. Filters still in use include
gunnysacks, earth, pressed paper, glass, sand, quartz, silver, diamond dust and, yes, charcoal (especially
birch and maple). Each has its adherents and some postulate that each has its own residual flavors to
impart.

Fundamentals of Tasting
First, stop expecting your taste to be the same as everyone else’s. Taste is as personal when it comes to
spirits and cocktails as it is with food. Nobody complains that you like Brussels sprouts about as much as
a body-covering rash. We take it for granted that we will have differences of opinion about food. But
admit to liking “blush” wines, and you’re immediately labeled a bumpkin. Taste is nothing more than,
well, a matter of personal taste.

Yes, there do exist objective—more or less—observations that make it possible for people to compare and
contrast various beverages, styles and even brands. But in order to do that, we have to collectively decide
what words we’re going to use to describe beverages. And then we’ll have to decide which words are
most appropriate to specific beverages; that will require that people taste everything they can, because in
the end, it’s broad firsthand experience that allows that comparison.

We at BAR believe strongly that blind tasting is the only way to taste honestly. Blind tasting concentrates
your senses. When you have a lot of experience and when you know what a product is, you immediately
know how it’s supposed to taste. The problem then is that most of us are human and we tend to use words
we have traditionally used to describe that beverage or brand, because to do otherwise would be to admit
that we are being inconsistent tasters.

If you taste with the label facing you, you’ll know the identity of the beverage but you won’t learn
anywhere near as much as if you weren’t aware of the identity. Nuances, differences, even large-scale
changes in production methods will mostly go unnoticed because your senses won’t be as keenly focused.
Even the best taster is subject to prejudice. The only way to be sure is to taste under blind conditions.

Once you have tasted three or four top gin brands, when any new brand is offered, your best course is to
taste it alongside one or two of the brands you already know. In that way, you’ll have a quick frame of
reference to tell a customer that Plymouth gin is, perhaps, more citrusy than Hendrick’s, or less juniper-
intense than Tanqueray. Perhaps even more importantly, you can guide yourself and your colleagues
when it comes time to create a cocktail from the gin. After all, bartenders are supposed to be the creative
kind of people who know how to adjust a recipe to suit a customer or to suit the brand.

The Nose Knows

Smell is our most primal sense. It’s the only one of our senses, for instance, that instigates the strangely
compelling feeling of déjà vu. Two moist membranes located on either side of the nose beneath our
cheeks collect data from aromatic molecules that land on them when we inhale the aromas of beverage
alcohol, or anything, for that matter. These sticky membranes/organs have about 350 sensors that send
data directly to our brain.

Not surprisingly, here’s the biggest secret of tasting: it’s not really tasting as much as it is smelling. Over
two thirds of the characteristic aromas and flavors of any brand are all in the nose. In wine tasting, we
could probably state that almost all of it is in the nose, but one of the strong differences between differing
spirits is the alcohol level. You can smell that difference, but you can’t really discover if the spirit is
poorly cut and hot, or well cut and rich and textured, and you won’t know if the spirit is in balance,
without putting some in your mouth and rolling it around.

We know that some of you are saying, “I can’t taste. I don’t have a good enough palate.” Really? You
didn’t know after that steak was served to you last night if it was good or not? You don’t really care
which beer you have at the end of shift because they all taste the same? You’ll gladly accept a bruised old
apple in place of a crisp, snappy one because you can’t tell the difference? Of course not. You are a good
taster. You, like all of us with any discipline, just need a bit of guidance in expressing your skill. Most
people simply haven’t had to apply words to the task yet. So start by putting two spirits next to each
other. Start slowly by trying a gin next to a white rum. Take a whiff, and by going back and forth, look
for the following attributes:

•   Vanilla
•   Citrus (which citrus?)
•   Lemon
•   Lime
•   Orange
•   Herbs
•   Coconut
•   Molasses
•   Nuts
•   Flowers
•   Pepper (they both have that)
•   Pine

Depending upon how sensitive you are to various flavors and aromas, you might find that both are very
peppery and both have some herbal aromas. In all likelihood, the rum will have the more dominant notes
of vanilla, coconut, molasses and perhaps even nuttiness. The gin should express aromas of pine or
evergreen, citrus, floral notes, herbs and perhaps many others things: most gins have at least a dozen
botanicals (such as flowers, spices, fruits, bark, that sort of thing) added to them.

But each person’s experience will be slightly different because, in addition to having different preferences
and different histories, we actually have different sensitivities to many flavors and aromas. So, we’re
supposed to taste things differently and like different things. The trick is, as professionals, we ought to be
able to tell our customers and colleagues how a brand is likely to compare to other brands. In order to do
that, you’ve got to have experience across a broad spectrum, and we suggest that you liberally collect
other people’s ideas as you go, so that you can learn to convey to other people what you are tasting in
understandable terminology. Let’s get started.

Tasting: Diluted or Straight?

Most professionals prefer to taste spirits just as they come from the bottle, full strength; others like to cut
the bottle strength in half with water. Our early experience with most of these spirits was behind a bar and
if we were going to know how they smelled and tasted, mixing them with water would at a minimum take
too much time. So, taste first at bottle proof. Once you’ve determined how they smell and taste when
poured straight from the bottle, then you can sort out what mixing does to them.

Words’ Worth: Describing What You Smell and Taste

The words you choose can be your own, of course, but if they’re too personal, then others aren’t going to
know what you mean, are they? And the whole point of having words to use when describing flavors and
aromas is so that you can communicate how a given drink will smell and taste. That way, your customers
will know if they want to order some.

In each of the spirit categories, we will provide you with some ideas for general descriptors that you
should look for when you taste different brands in those categories.

Tasting Flight #1:

Spirits’ Wide Range of Aromas, Textures, and Flavors
The purpose of this initial tasting is for you to start to become accustomed to the broad spectrum of
fragrances and flavors in various spirits categories in undiluted form. Reason? The more you know about
what goes into the making of spirits and how they taste, the better mixologist you will become.

PLEASE NOTE: The spirits brands that we are recommending for the tasting flights are just directional.
They were chosen because they are either the best representation of that spirits category, or they
exemplify the difference and nuances of flavors within each category. You can use whatever brands you
have available at your disposal. It is not mandatory that you purchase these specific brands. We just
recommend that you sample brands in each category.

#1 Absolut Vodka
#2 Beefeater Gin
#3 Cruzan Light Rum
#4 Tequila Avion Silver
#5 Jameson Irish Whiskey
#6 Chivas Regal 12 Blended Scotch
#7 The Glenlivet 12 Single-Malt Scotch
#8 Four Roses Bourbon
#9 Martell VSOP
The Five fundamental flavors
• Sweet
• Salt
• Sour
• Bitter (most of us are the most sensitive to this fundamental taste)
• Umami ( a savory sensation that’s best demonstrated by things such as parmesan cheese, soy sauce,
shiitake mushrooms)

Basic textures
• Astringent
• Hot
• Cold
• Spicy
• Soft
• Bland
• Light
• Delicate
• Rich
• Full-bodied
• Velvety
• Powerful

The intangibles
• Complexity
• Balance
• Length
Module 2 - Spirits and Liqueurs ODULE II
WHITE SPIRITS – Why do we call them white spirits? We do so because they appear to have gone
straight from the still to the bottle, without any time in the barrel. As we’ll read below, there are
exceptions, but, in general, white spirits don’t see time in barrels and so they are transparent or “white.”

Gin –What
Gin is a spirit that is typically triple distilled, based upon neutral grain spirits, and cut with distilled water.
In most cases, the grain spirits have been created through a double or triple column still distillation. Then
the grain spirit is distilled a final time in a pot still with botanicals including juniper, oil of juniper,
coriander, orange peel, lemon peel, anise, cassia, bitter almonds, caraway, cocoa, angelica root, orris root
and many other ingredients. For proprietary reasons, producers zealously guard their botanical recipes.

Nonetheless, it is possible to learn a great deal about any gin and its recipe from the flavors and aromas.
Juniper is distinctly peppery and herbal. If it smells like a Christmas tree, it’s because juniper berries
grow on evergreen bushes. Some of the most highly prized juniper berries are grown and aged for several
years in Tuscany.

Citrus peel adds lemon, orange and lime elements; that seems obvious. Coriander, the seed of the cilantro
plant, adds an herbal aroma, but also brings a tart, even grapefruit-like flavor to the gin. Cassia brings a
somewhat bitter note, something like tonic water. Other ingredients may offer floral notes, vegetal notes,
even tea flavors; flowers, vegetables and tea might also be a part of the recipe.

Gin –Where
Gin can be made anywhere that distillation occurs. Still, there are four approximate types of gins, and
those gin types tend to come from certain places.

•   For more than a century, gin producers around the world have looked to London Dry Gin as the
benchmark gin style. While it can be made anywhere—it needn’t come from London—the style
is nonetheless still strongly associated with Great Britain. Juniper and/or citrus tend to dominate
the botanical profile. Alcohol range is from 37.5 to 55 percent by volume; the traditional strength
is 47 percent.
•   Genever or Hollands gin is produced in the Netherlands, Belgium and small parts of France and
Germany. It has some yellowish color, may be distinctly sweet, in opposition to London Dry, and
can be powerful and oily. Made mostly from the pot-stilled barley/rye distillate known as “malt
wine,” usually with neutral grain spirits blended in, it’s always more malty/grainy/cereally than
herbal or fruity/spicy. Alcohol range is from 35 to 50 percent by volume.
•   Plymouth, England is home to a single gin distillery, Blackfriars, and a distinctive style called
Plymouth. Plymouth Gin is lower in alcohol than London Dry varieties but owns an earthy
richness that is unique. Alcohol is 41.2 percent.
•   So-called “New” or “International Style” gins are as diverse as the many places from which they
derive. Alcohol range is from 40 to 55 percent by volume. Typically, other botanicals than juniper
tend to dominate.

Gin –When
If gin is a juniper flavored grain-based spirit (and it is), then there would be nothing wrong with
proclaiming Arnaud de Villanova as gin’s inventor. He is credited with developing the European practice
of distillation in the thirteenth century A.D., perhaps acquiring the skills developed centuries earlier by
Muslim scholars, Geber and Avicenna. Importantly, his first products were grain spirits distilled with
juniper berries. Why? Juniper has long been known to possess healthful properties (that’s why we drink
gin now, right?). Masks made of juniper were believed by some to offer protection from the plague.
Juniper is likewise believed to aid when ailments of the kidneys strike.

But Villanova’s gin was more or less a one-off. In the end, it was the Dutch who invented the spirit we
know as gin. The word is theirs, as well. They call juniper genever in Dutch; the British turned that word
into “geneva” and then abbreviated it to “gin.” For the Dutch, alcohol’s preservative abilities were ideally
suited to retain the character of the spices and fruits they were trading.

Throughout much of the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries, the Dutch were masters of the
high seas and, as such, pioneered and dominated international trade and commerce. All the major
European powers, namely, the British, Spanish, Portuguese and Dutch, vied to create the fastest and most
direct route to the spice regions of eastern Asia. The stories of their competitions and subsequent ruthless
methods once they arrived in places like the Moluccas (where cloves grow) have filled bookshelves. The
Dutch East India Company was particularly successful.

While Dutch ships entered the port of Rotterdam, much of their cargo was loaded to an upriver suburb
called Schiedam. Consequently, Schiedam’s warehouses were bulging with fruits, spices and other raw
goods and materials. By the seventeenth century, four hundred pot stills were in use to convert those
goods into something with a bit more longevity. Juniper was a prime ingredient for their genever, but
many other ingredients found their way into the increasingly complex brew. Genever was reportedly
healthful and, man, it was potent. The British called the drink Dutch Courage because they frequently
hired Dutch mercenaries to do some of their military dirty work. The Dutch mercenaries were known to
drink copious amounts of genever and were notoriously effective in their ferocity.

But the British and many of Continental Europe’s monarchs did not get along in the late 1600s. So, the
English Crown decreed that any British subject could distill this so-called Dutch Courage, in the hope that
the increasingly thirsty British people would stop buying French brandy and that perhaps Holland’s
genever might be supplanted as well. As history depicts, the plan worked.

By the early 1700s, Dutch Courage had become “Mother’s Ruin.” The ravages and dislocations of the
Industrial Revolution were at least partially blamed on gin, which had swept through England’s
burgeoning cities like liquid crack. Gin was accused of being evil. With distilleries working in seemingly
half the back rooms of London churning out inexpensive, semi-poisonous spirit from the cheapest
materials available, that description wasn’t far-fetched.

After the “Gin Craze” burnt itself out in England, gin became celebrated as something essentially British.
England shut down home distilling through Parliamentary laws and built beautiful gin palaces to lure the
populace into a more controlled—and taxable—setting. Gin Punch became one of the sporting drinks of
the upper class at home while for the protectors of the Empire in the far-flung tropical regions of India
and Africa gin and quinine-water became the tonic drink (as in, medicinal) of choice.

By the early 1800s, English gin’s style had distinguished itself from the malty, rich Dutch style. Where
the Dutch worked to make the best, most flavorful (pot-still) base spirit they could and then flavored it
simply with juniper and small amounts of other spices, the English relied on a base spirit that was
rectified—that is, redistilled and filtered to remove as many traces of the base material as possible—
which was then flavored with a complex mix of botanicals and then, usually, sweetened. This style was
known as Old Tom gin.

In the 1830s, Charles Tanqueray created the distinct style of London Dry Gin, altogether crisper and
lighter than the genevers and even the hitherto-dominant Old Tom gins. With the introduction of
continuous stills, the distilleries in the Lowlands of Scotland were fired up. Ironically, much of the grain
whisky they made (and still make) wasn’t intended for Scotch whisky but instead for the gin distilleries of
England. With the help of the neutral spirit they provided, London Dry Gin had become by the end of the
nineteenth century the preeminent, defining style, produced by dozens of distilleries, each with its own
proprietary blend of botanicals.

This explosion wasn’t occurring just in Britain. In the U.S., distillers began making the new London Dry
style, which was much cheaper to produce than the malt-rich Dutch style. In Ireland, Cork’s Watercourse
Distillery had a tradition of gin-making dating back to 1798, with its own special botanical formula, but
didn’t launch its Cork Dry Gin, or “C.D.C. Gin” (so called after its maker, the Cork Distilleries
Company), until 1941, when the distillery installed a column still that enabled it to make a true dry gin.

After a century of widespread popularity, gin has struggled since the explosion of vodka in the 1970s. In
the last decade though, gin, perhaps sensing imminent doom, has begun to revisit its roots. Now, after
three decades of decline, there are suddenly dozens of new brands. Some of the gins in the market are
rootier, more idiosyncratic, and Plymouth Gin, an icon among English gins that almost disappeared, is
reborn. Genever is coming back to the world stage after a century of eclipse (naval embargos during the
first World War and German occupation during the second effectively destroyed its foreign markets).
While finding a bottle sometimes requires an exhaustive search, there is good news from Bols, which has
recently reintroduced their classic genever to the global market. There are even contemporary versions of
Old Tom Gin available again, if with limited distribution. Bottom line is: gin is back!

The Gin Rules

With the recent explosion of Gin as a category, there seems to be a certain amount of misinformation
about the regulations regarding it, so let’s set the record straight. First, since gin is originally a European
product, these are the EU rules, and as such, American gins do not necessarily need to follow these rules.
That said, most American distillers seem to have embraced these regulations as their own, perhaps out of
respect for their forebears or perhaps because they hope to sell some spirit in the European Community.

Today, we classify Gin by both geographic origin and style. It should be pointed out that although
London Gins began as products of that city, today, the name London Gin, or London Dry Gin, is a style
that can be made anywhere, as long as the producer adheres to some very strict rules. This is contrary to
the regulations for Plymouth Gin, which must be made in the town of Plymouth, England, and
Genever/Genievre/Jenever, which must be made in The Netherlands or Belgium, and as such are
considered PDOs, or Geographic Indications of Origin, and have their own sets of rules and regulations.
There are currently nine other PDOs for Gin in the EU: two of which are German, one each from Spain
and Lithuania, and the remaining five from Slovakia.

There are also classifications for the use of the word Gin, which are, in ascending order of specificity,
from just calling it Gin, to Distilled Gin, to London Distilled Gin (insert the word Dry as preferred),
which is a type of Distilled Gin, that must be distilled to a minimum of 70 percent, then redistilled in a
traditional (pot) still with botanicals that are all natural plant materials, of which the juniper must be
predominant.

New Western Dry Gins are basically defined, according to Ryan Magarian’s thesis on the subject of Gin
and its style sub-categories, as Gins that, while embracing Juniper, focus as much or more on their
complement of other botanicals, although no specific rules or legislation has yet been universally
approved for this designation.

Gin – Applications
While we can argue about the origins of the Martini, there is no argument that it was originally a gin
drink. In the nineteenth century, the gin most Americans imbibed was Hollands, not Old Tom or London
Dry. But in the last quarter of the 1800s, the trend was toward lighter, dryer drinks. Old Tom gin began to
edge out genever. Mix Old Tom with vermouth and you have a Martini. Make that vermouth dry and
switch the Old Tom for Plymouth or London dry gin, and you have a dry Martini, which was introduced
in the 1890s. We’re still drinking it now.

In America, during the manmade drought of Prohibition (1919- 1933), aged spirits were very expensive,
if not downright unavailable. But homemade bathtub gin was as popular as the Charleston. It’s not hard to
explain why that dance was all the rage, but gin was only a quick step away from moonshine. Gin
demanded no long barrel aging and no exotic ingredients—just bootleg moonshine and some juniper
extract purchased from Sears Roebuck’s, J.C. Penney’s or Montgomery Ward’s mail-order catalogues (all
ranked such juniper products amongst their top ten sellers). Dozens of gin-based cocktails date from these
years and have become classics. But gin’s spicy, ever-changing aromas and flavors are still too much for
some drinkers and may provide too much of a challenge for lazy bartenders who find it easier to throw
some juice together with vodka and call it a new classic. A shame and a wasted opportunity.
MODULE II
Principal Gin Cocktails (London Dry Gin/Plymouth Gin)
• Dry Martini
• Tom Collins
• Gin Rickey
• Gimlet
• Gin & Tonic

Principal Gin Cocktails (Holland Gin)

• John Collins
• Gin Punch
• Old-Fashioned Gin Cocktail

Tasting Gin
Unlike vodka, gin is all about the aromas and flavors that are derived from botanicals. Compared to
tasting vodka, gin is easy and straightforward. You smell it and you look for spices, fruits, vegetables and
anything else you can think of, and if it’s an interesting gin, you’ll find a lot of each present.

But as with vodka, a good taster looks to the base spirit. Is it rich, smooth, textured, or oily (in a good
way)? Or is it hot, spiky and bitter? Some distillers, as if they were still making bathtub gin, figure that
the botanicals will cover up lazy distillation. They won’t. The best way to find flavor and identify
differences is to put a few gins next to each other. Smell, taste and compare them. While putting words to
the differences still requires some artistic license, you will definitely find differences.

You’ll taste them to see if they are:

• Clean or dirty
• Dry or slightly sweet
• Smooth or aggressive
• Gentle or powerful
• Fruity, floral, vegetal, earthy and/or herbal
• Rich or thin
• Soft, sharp or burning

Gin should be clean and dry and not bitter and not sweet, unless it is a genever or genever-styled gin. A
good genever seems sweet from its powerfully malty character, and can indeed be gently sweet.
Tasting Flight #2 – Gin
#1 Aviation – aromatic, lavender, citrus, juniper
#2 Hendrick’s – light-bodied, coriander, light rose, vegetal
#3 Seagram’s Extra Dry Gin – light-bodied, sweetish, earthy
#4 Beefeater – light-bodied, impeccably clean, floral, piney
#5 Plymouth – spicy, medium-bodied, smooth, piney/cedary
#6 Tanqueray – full-bodied, fruity, oily, dry, juniper dominant
#7 Beefeater 24 – complex, juniper, dry tea, citrus-coriander

Vodka –Where
Vodka is a type of distillate (as mentioned in Module I) that’s most synonymous with neutral grain spirit
since it has been distilled to such a high proof that very few congeners, fusel oils, aromas and flavors
remain. You can find vodka made anywhere and made from virtually anything. Russia and Poland were
the most renowned and historically important early producers of vodka in large volumes. Russian and
Polish filtration techniques, adopted in the late 1800s and early 1900s, has a great influence on the
world’s other vodka producers, even if not practiced as rigorously in most other countries.

Vodka –What
Vodka is a spirit that has generally been distilled to higher than 95 percent alcohol by volume and then
filtered. According to some ill-informed people, including the U.S. Government, this renders vodka an
aroma-less and flavorless distilled spirit, which it is not. It is usually clear and colorless, although a few
exceptions exist.

This rough definition does not necessarily contradict the category of flavored vodka, which has been
gaining market share for a decade or more. Flavored vodkas are neutral spirits that have been flavored,
usually through the addition of flavor extracts purchased from a synthetic flavor and aroma manufacturer.
Few producers use the real ingredients pictured on the label to gain their flavors and aromas because it is
more challenging to produce a quality flavored vodka from natural ingredients than by procuring a vial of
concentrated flavor. Natural ingredients are more expensive.

There are no limits on the raw materials that can be utilized to make vodka. Most people use common
grains, like corn, rye and wheat, as well as vegetables and fruits, including potatoes, grapes and sugar
beets, to distil to a very high proof (often 195-proof) and then cut the distillate with distilled water to 80-
proof, or 40 percent alcohol by volume. Lately, higher proof vodkas are emerging in some markets. Their
greater weight and intensity offers a talented bartender a chance to create more textured cocktails while
retaining the sleek, congener-light character that was vodka’s original reason to exist.

Filtration is part of the lore of vodka distillation. Some of it is real; some of it is sleight-of-hand.
Gunnysacks, diamonds, silver, quartz, sand, paper, tightly woven cloth and, of course, charcoal (maple,
birch) filters are often utilized to filter the distillate in an attempt to mellow or shape it, or for some
merely an attempt to offer the marketing group more talking points in a sales meeting. Bear this in mind:
the more distillations and filtrations, the more the characteristics of the base materials are stripped away.

Vodka –When
Trying to figure out precisely when most spirits were created is more like a game of cards than it is a
serious historical pursuit. Vodka is particularly elusive since the moment of origin (and its place of origin
as well) depends upon how one defines it. Vodka, the word, appears to be a Russian diminutive of a
Polish phrase, woda życia, which means “water of life”. But the term vodka isn’t in usage until the late
eighteenth century; distillation by then was commonplace and smartly practiced throughout Eastern
Europe, but particularly in Russia and Poland. The earliest records in those countries date back to the 13th
or even 12th centuries (though some believe distillation was happening centuries before); those distillates
were made for medicines not beverages. Terms to describe the drinking beverage included gorzałka (from
the Old Polish term gorzeć, meaning ‘to burn’), okowita’ (derived from 'aqua vitae’ or “water of life’); the
Russian terms translate as “burning wine” or “hot wine”. The records show that the nobility (who made
the stuff for which some records were kept) initially distilled their vodka out of grapes or wine. That was
a foolishly expensive way to make vodka when grains were widely available for the sustenance of their
peoples and lands.

The term “water of life” appears over and over again in the history of spirits: Eau de Vie (in French),
Akvavit (in Danish), aqua vitae (in Latin) and even in the word “whiskey,” which derives from a Celtic
term, uisce beatha. That “uisce” word was eventually slurred by English-speakers into the word
“whiskey,” but remains an echo of the earlier “water of life”. The idea was that spirit or “water of life”
was a purified form of water and, as we saw in Module I, it was safer to drink than most of the communal
water. The Poles may have created vodka before the Russians, since the Russian word for it is a derivative
of a Polish word, but you could probably be sent to Siberia for saying that. Indeed, Scandinavian
producers may have participated in vodka’s earliest stages, as well, though fissionable materials will be
dropped in your vodka tonic for repeating this story. Best to change the subject.

In Russia, vodka remains a vital force and countless Russian leaders have utilized that power for political
purposes. Ivan the Great nationalized all distilleries in 1474; Ivan the Terrible went further still and
nationalized the bars where vodka was served in 1553. Why again is he considered great? Private
distilleries persisted, but only amongst the wealthy and powerful. After the Russian Revolution, these
distilleries were nationalized. Once Communism fell, President Boris Yeltsin was known to nip a glass or
two but, most importantly, private enterprise returned to the business. Now, there is a profusion of new
brands coming from the former Soviet Union, mostly owned by wealthy and powerful entrepreneurs.

Suffice it to say that for centuries vodka has represented Russian and Scandinavian culture, whether
among the moneyed and powerful, or within the impoverished working classes. As an export product,
vodka is relatively new. While some European bars, particularly in Paris, stocked it in the late nineteenth
and early twentieth centuries, American bars barely knew what it was. Charles Baker’s Gentleman’s
Companion, one of the most popular drink books of the 1930s, opined that “vodka is not necessary to a
small or medium sized bar.”

Vodka began seeping into the global mainstream first through Bohemian circles in Paris, London and
New York, among which it had been growing in popularity since the turn of the twentieth century. In the
1940s, however, the exotic eastern European firewater captured the imagination of the Hollywood set and
the rest is history. The stars had vodka parties, the Jet Set attended, and vodka became chic.

In the mid-1950s, John Martin of Heublein, a major beverage supplier/distiller based in Connecticut,
pushed vodka forward in the U. S. with Smirnoff Vodka, which was originally Russian. One of the most
successful campaigns for their brand was, “Smirnoff...it will leave you breathless.” In the era of the three-
martini lunch, this was a good thing if you planned to go back to work that afternoon.

By the late 1950s, the Bloody Mary was a standard eye- opener (back when eye-openers were standard
fare), the Screwdriver was a typical afternoon refresher, and those James Bond martinis were becoming
cool to drink. By 1967, vodka surpassed gin to become the number one white spirit in the U.S. In 1976,
vodka became the number one spirit, white or brown. By the 1980s, what had happened in America was
happening globally: vodka was edging out many of the traditional, local spirits.

Why? Not because it leaves you breathless, but because it’s not supposed to have the kick and character
of most other spirits, so you can have a drink without being bothered by flavor. While we’re not sure
where the advantage in that is, that’s because we’ve learned to acquire the taste for those traditional
spirits. For young drinkers who haven’t, vodka was and is tremendously alluring. No muss, no fuss, put it
in a soft drink and boom, you’ve got booze! Manufacturers have been happy to encourage this trend,
since vodka is far cheaper to produce than cognac, malt whiskey, rye, rhum agricole, oude genever, gin or
any other traditional spirit.

Principal Vodka Cocktails

• Vodka Martini
• Cosmopolitan
• Bloody Mary
• Screwdriver
• Vodka & Tonic

Tasting Vodka
Though vodka is a neutral spirit, one of the more remarkable aspects about tasting vodka is that, though as
much flavor has been removed as possible, we tasters still find flavors. Having removed everything else,
what should be left is yeast, water and the grain or other material from
which the vodka is made.

Vodka presents one of the greatest challenges you’ll have as a taster. But before you despair, put a few
vodkas next to each other. Smell, taste and compare them. While putting words to the differences requires
some artistic license, you will definitely find those differences.

You’ll taste them to see if they are:

• Clean or dirty
• Dry or slightly sweet
• Smooth or aggressive
• Gentle or powerful
• Oily, grainy or soapy
• Rich or thin
• Soft, sharp or burning
MODULE II
It should taste like its ingredients, and that means it may smell and taste of bread dough (yeast, grain,
nuttiness). It may taste even of minerals or of earthiness.

Tasting Flight #3 – Vodka

#1 Tito’s – light bodied, slight breadiness, alcohol
#2 Absolut – light-bodied, clean, neutral
#3 Ciroc – clean, slight yeastiness, sweet on the palate
#4 Belvedere – vanilla, cream, full flavor
#5 Luksusowa – clear, grassy, vanilla, full flavor
#6 Ketel One – medium-bodied, fruity, oily, flowery
#7 Absolut Elyx – silken texture, citrus and almond aroma, grain, long finish

Rum and Cachaça –What

Rum is any distilled spirit created from sugarcane. The vast majority of rums, approximately 90 percent,
are produced from molasses, the deep brown, soupy, and high-in-sugar liquid derived when sugarcane is
transformed into raw sugar. The minority, principally cachaça from Brazil and rhum agricole from the
French West Indies islands, are produced from the fresh juice of sugarcane after it’s pressed. Molasses is
used to make light, soft rums, such as those pioneered in Puerto Rico, and dark, pungent rums, like
Jamaica and Barbados whose reputations evolved due to their more robust styles, as well as everything in
between.

The variables that can differentiate one style from another include such obvious factors as the time spent
in oak barrels; the variety of wood (i.e. American white oak - Quercus alba, French oak - Quercus robur,
or other indigenous woods as those Brazilian types used in the aging of cachaça); whether pot stills or
continuous stills are employed; whether flavors or spice are added; and perhaps less obviously, whether
molasses, cane syrup or the freshly extracted juice of the sugarcane is used to create a fermented liquid.
Techniques and styles vary not only from country to country, but often within counties. For example,
Jamaica is known for dark and heavy rums. But, in fact, the most popular rum in Jamaica is a white rum
with a high proof, 126 degrees, called Wray & Nephew Overproof.

In the rundown that follows, you’ll note that the decision to use molasses, cane juice or syrup might be
the most important factor in the style of rum.

Rum and Cachaça- Where

Rum is made anywhere sugarcane is grown. Today, more than 100 sub-tropical and tropic zone countries
cultivate sugarcane, with most of them making rum. Interestingly, you don’t need to grow cane to make
rum. Two hundred and fifty years ago, rum was widely produced both in England and New England –
hardly tropical zone nations -, all from molasses imported from the Caribbean region. Even today, much
of the molasses that Caribbean and other countries utilize for rum production is supplied by Brazil, the
world’s largest sugarcane producer.

Most consumers believe that rum is solely a product of the Caribbean, and indeed many of the more
famous names in rum are island-based. But quality rums are produced on every continent (well, okay, not
Antarctica) and in a myriad of styles.

Moreover, the sugarcane grass genus, saccharum officinarum, didn’t originate in the Caribbean, as most
people erroneously believe, but hails from somewhere in Southeast Asia, most likely, New Guinea,
according to botanists. Sugarcane shares the same tall grass family as rice, wheat, corn, and sorghum. One
hectare (2.47 acres) of farmed sugarcane yields up to 125 tonnes, or 275,500 pounds, of sugar, which
accounts for 1,600 liters of blackstrap molasses. A distilled spirit from sugarcane may even have been the
basis for what is the earliest known large scale distilling that took place in what is now modern-day
Pakistan over 2,500 years ago.

Cachaça, a close cousin of rum, is made from sugarcane juice and comes only from Brazil. It is bottled
from between 38 percent and 51 percent alcohol and is produced by as many as 30,000 small distillers.
An incredible 98 percent of all cachaça is consumed in Brazil. Cachaça comes in a trio of classifications:
unaged (1 year in wood), aged (2 to 12 years in wood), and yellow (immature spirits that have caramel or
wood extracts added so they can appear older).

Rum and Cachaça- When

The rum we know today probably had its origins in the throes of desperation. Early Spanish and
Portuguese settlers in Central and South America, as well as the Caribbean, had no wine and needed
alcohol. We don’t exactly know how and when but early distillers were creating a rudimentary distillate
from molasses within a few decades of the founding of sugarcane plantations that were supplying refined
sugar to Europe. Once again, there is no “ah-hah!” moment to declare New World rum’s time of birth.
But the pangs are evident in the nicknames chosen to depict the fiery spirit: “kill-devil”, “demon rum,
“rumbullion” and “rumbustion”, the latter two terms used to connote mayhem.
One of the first written descriptions of rum originates from a visitor to Barbados in 1651, who woefully
reported, “The chiefe fuddling they make in the Island (Barbados) is Rumbullion, alias Kill-Devill, and
this is made of sugar cane distilled, a hot, hellish and terrible liquor.” The popular image of so-called
“pirate juice” is closer to the truth than any other widespread image. Rums were distilled from molasses
that might have been left to spoil in the tropical heat and humidity for weeks, and then fermented. Straight
from the still, these rums were either consumed on the spot or went into barrels or ceramic jugs and then
on to ships for transport. The barrels were probably nearly empty before a few weeks passed due to severe
evaporation in the tropical heat and, more likely, the sailors’ thirst.

From the sixteenth to the eighteenth centuries, lots of rum was being distilled in New England,
particularly in Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island because they were home to the commercial
shipping major ports of Boston, Newport, and New London. Ships laden with sugarcane, only recently
arrived from the Caribbean or America’s Southeast, wouldn’t transport it back to England. Instead
captains would drop their loads in New England and take back a far more concentrated form of
sugarcane: raw sugar.

With all the leftover molasses, the early American colonials made their own kind of rum, but it too must
have tasted like the same hot, unpalatable liquid that the pirates were drinking. Meanwhile, back in the
mother country, connoisseurs of Punch were developing a taste for rum and initiating the process that led
to the taming of the fiery spirits. To soften rum’s heat, you either need a selective distillation (nobody’s
throwing out perfectly good pirate juice!), filtration (that’s a late nineteenth century innovation) or long
barrel aging.

Originally, no one was willing to wait for it to age in barrel long enough for the spirit to soften. That
would change: as one English epicure noted in 1737, “…in order to make Rum palatable to any Person of
nice Taste, it must be carefully kept in a good Cellar for several years.”

Thus, aged rum was becoming increasingly available. In Barbados in the seventeenth century, so much
rum was being produced that plenty of it was reportedly for sale elsewhere. Some of the Bajan barrels
sent off for transport took on characteristics of what we know today as well-aged rum: honey, caramel,
and vanilla, as well as a gentler, mellower nature. The rums from Barbados became so coveted that
George Washington insisted to his handlers that they buy a barrel for his inauguration celebration.

Other Caribbean region islands and nations saw similar growth in reputation. Jamaican distillers started
their fermentations with molasses from a previous fermentation to more rapidly initiate the fermentation
in a batch of fresh molasses. The results were rums that were aromatically far funkier and pleasantly
pungent. The Jamaicans, too, learned to mature their rums in barrels as long as possible to smooth them
out. In some cases, they added spices (cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla, clove) and other flavorings, as did most
of the Caribbean region distillers to at least a portion of their rums.

The Demerara river region of British Guyana in northern South America was noted for its Jamaican-style
rums, as well. It didn’t hurt that the British Royal Navy was issuing its sailors a daily portion of rum (288
ml that equals about 1 pint, to be precise), blended from Jamaican and Demerara sources, a practice that
lasted until July 31, 1970.

The French Islands used only cane juice since Napoleon owned sugar beet factories in France capable of
producing raw sugar. With no home market for refined sugar, the French Islands were free to use their
juice itself. As a result, the rums produced on Martinique, Marie Galante, and Guadeloupe, as well as
other French colonies such as Haiti, were different from molasses-based rums. Cane juice rums tend to be
more herbal and vegetal, but also more tropical in fruit character. Today, not all rhums (that’s how the
French spell it) are made from cane juice, but the best are. They’re referred to as rhum agricole, or
“agricultural rum” (as opposed to rhum industriel, or “industrial rum”, which is made from molasses).

Enter Cuba, the largest of the West Indies islands, into the New World history of sugarcane cultivation
and, by extension, rum production. As a colony of Spain, Cuba by the end of the eighteenth century, later
than competing islands, was transformed into a major producer of sugarcane after the King of Spain
legalized slavery. He did so to maintain the supply of manual labor required to keep the Cuban plantations
operating.

As the number of sugarcane plantations exploded in Cuba in the late 1700s, so did the volumes of rum.
By 1778, Cuba was annually exporting almost 50,000 gallons of raw spirit to Spain but, by 1800, that
figure mushroomed to an astounding 1,000,000 gallons. By 1861, it is reported that there were 125 rum
distilleries operating on the island as Cuba, which was then the third largest supplier of sugarcane in the
world.

The huge volume of refined sugar supplied enormous amounts of molasses that was, in turn, fermented
and distilled into generally crude and unappetizing local rums, barely fit for consumption. Consequently
for well over a century, Cuban rum wasn’t noted for its sophistication like those from rival Barbados,
Jamaica, Martinique, or Guyana.

In the 1850s and 1860s, a critical wave of social change swept across Cuba as more cultured Spaniards
emigrated from the Iberian Peninsula to seek their fortunes. Among those was Don Facundo Bacardi-
Masso. Don Facundo followed his brothers to Cuba in 1844 and founded his own mercantile emporium,
where he sold among other things wine and rum. Later on after surviving a rash of difficulties, from
illness to financial woes, Don Facundo established a rum distillery and was among the first entrepreneurs
in the New World to utilize the newly discovered style of distillation, continuous distillation. He also
started filtering his rums to make them more palatable, smooth, and light. He and other distillers thus
created what is known today as the Spanish style of rum, which features a lighter, slightly sweeter, leaner
character.

During Prohibition, Cuba became a major resort attraction to well-heeled Americans and it was during
this period that Cuba became synonymous with rum cocktails. Indeed, no other Caribbean island became
as fertile a source for rum cocktails as Cuba as bold name authors, politicians, mobsters, and movie stars
flocked from California and New York to Havana to guzzle Daiquiris, Mojitos and Cuba Libres. Trendy
Cuban nightclubs and bars, most notably the El Floridita, bristled with Americans, imbibing light,
fashionable Cuban rums served in fruity, tart cocktails.

After World War Two, Cuban rum brands like Havana Club, Santiago de Cuba, Ron Cubay, and
Matusalem turned into iconic rums that touted the irresistible Cuban myth of infectiously loud music,
sweaty dancing, old Chevys, and cocktails with paper umbrellas. Ernest “Papa” Hemingway, the
twentieth century’s most iconic author, helped to perpetuate the Cuban mystique through the 1950s until
the socialist revolution shutdown the casinos, nightclubs, and forced the American-leaning Bacardi family
to Puerto Rico, where they remain today, making rum.

Today, with the long overdue normalization of relations between the United States and Cuba, the Cuban
rum industry, led by the legendary flagship Havana Club brand, is poised to make an enormous splash in
the world’s largest and most vigorous spirits market, Cuba’s neighbor to the north.

But rum’s resurgence in the last decade has been tied more to its distinctive, deep flavors rather than some
brands’ ability to seem like vodka. Consumers nowadays want bigger flavor challenges. The cocktails that
have epitomized rum drinks: Rum and Coke, Piña Colada, Daiquiri, and more might be ideal for the
neutral style of rum, but two of the cocktails that have brought rum back to the cool side of the pool are
the Caipirinha, made with cachaça, and the Mojito, made with rum. Both demand that bartenders re-learn
the old-fashioned practice of muddling.

Here’s the deal about Cuban rum: once ignored due to geopolitical hassles that had little to do with
common sense, Cuba is now poised to roll into the third millennium with its rum leading the way.

Certainly, one of the largest selling and most important segments of rum is the flavored rum category.
Rums such as Malibu (created in Barbados in 1980), Cruzan and Captain Morgan have revolutionized and
revitalized the industry. Most popular flavors include coconut, mango, passion fruit, spiced, vanilla, citrus
and others.

And a Caipirinha requires cachaça, a Brazilian rum made only from cane juice which is frequently
matured in unusual indigenous woods, like freijo, cedar, imburana, cherry, and jequitiba. Those barrels
smell as different as they sound, but the exotic, tropical, herbal notes of cachaça add funk and excitement
to the smell of a well-made Caipirinha.

Principal Rum and Cachaça Cocktails

• Daiquiri
• Mai Tai
• Rum Punch
• Cuba Libre
• Piña Colada
• Caipirnha
• Mojito

Tasting Rum and Cachaça

As usual, the best way to find flavor and identify differences is to put several rums next to each other. But
the amazing variety of rums means that three aren’t enough. Instead, place one rum from each of the
dominant styles next to each other: spiced, flavored, Jamaican, Puerto Rican or Cuban when they become
available, cachaça, Barbados, and Martinique (to name only a few). Smell, taste and compare them. Now
add in some of the others that are out there – and see if they seem similar to one of the dominant styles.
Try several brands all in the same style – differences can be discernable here, too.

You’ll taste them to detect if they are:

• Clean or dirty
• Dry or slightly sweet
• Smooth or aggressive
• Gentle or powerful
• Oily, grainy or soapy
• Rich or thin
• Soft, sharp or burning

The rums in question should be clean and dry and neither bitter nor sweet, unless it is a sweetened and/or
flavored rum.

Tasting Flight #4 – Rum and Cachaça

#1 Brugal Silver – vanilla, acetone, clove, light body
#2 El Dorado 12 Year – rich and full, carmel, vanilla, some banana
#3 Appleton Jamaican – lighter bodied, banana, orange peel, molasses
#4 Ron Zacapa Centenario Solera Grand Reserve – sweet, nuts, honey, chocolate
#5 Rhum Clement Premiere Cane – grassy, bright, funky, lighter bodied
#6 Avuá Prata Cachaça (unaged) - Grassy, citrus, yeast, orchard fruit

Tequila and Mezcal –What

Both Tequila and Mezcal are distilled spirits made from the agave plant. Both terms are tightly defined
and controlled by the Mexican government. Most major countries honor and protect these regulations and
definitions, with the sole exception of the United States—which is unfortunately the largest foreign
market for these spirits.

Tequila is sold in six styles, mostly based upon the aging of the spirit. Gold, or joven abacado, is a
sweetened and caramel-tinged spirit; it’s the cheap stuff. It is usually made from a blend of sugars from
agave and molasses from sugarcane, so it’s called mixto. By law, a mixto must derive no more than 49
percent of its sugars from anything other than agave, though as we have noted above, the U.S.
government is unconcerned with enforcing these laws.

If a Tequila is not a mixto, then it will be made from agave only. Some Tequila producers will label their
product “100 percent Agave” and some will state “100% Blue Agave” or “100% Puro de Agave”. Blue
Agave is one of the hundreds of types of agave growing around the world, and it thrives in tequila
country. But if you’re seeking quality, “100% agave” ought to be good enough. Most, but not all, mixtos
are forgettable, at best; many 100% agave tequilas are unforgettable.

Tequila that has aged no more than two months is called blanco or silver. Tequila that has aged for two to
twelve months in any sized oak container is called reposado, or “rested.” Añejo means that the tequila has
aged in small (600 liter) oak barrel for one to three years. Extra Añejo connotes that the tequila has stayed
inside a small oak barrel for at least three years.

Tequila and Mezcal –Where

Tequila is produced in the five Mexican states of Jalisco (where the town of Tequila lies), Nayarit,
Guanajuato, Michoacan and Tamaulipas. By law, a distillate made elsewhere in Mexico the same way and
from the exact same materials cannot be called Tequila. Mezcal is primarily made in Oaxaca, but seven
other states have also earned a Denomination of Origin: Guerrero, Durango, San Luis Potosí, Zacatecas,
Guanajuato, Tamaulipas and Michoacan. Other agave spirits with official Mexican DOs include Bacanora
from Sonora; Raicilla from the area around Puerto Vallarta, Jalisco; Tuxca from Tuxcacuesco, Jalisco;
Comiteco from Comitan, Chiapas; and Sotol from Chihuahua.

One hundred percent agave tequila is usually made from the blue agave, otherwise known as “tequilana
weber, subvariety azul.” Mezcal can be made from espadin, cirial, cupreata, arroqueño, tobala, salmiana,
tepestate, tobaziche and other agave varieties. But that’s not the only thing that separates it from tequila.
Another key difference between tequila and mezcal is how the agave hearts are cooked.

In Tequila, the halved agave hearts (called piñas) are steamed in autoclaves (these are stainless- steel
pressure cookers used for the cheap stuff) or baked in ovens, or hornos. Baked is better. Piñas, so-called
because they resemble large pineapples, can weigh 25 to 50 kilos.

With mezcal, the past is still present. The traditional way to cook agave hearts is to dig a pit and fill it
with hot rocks as well as the fronds (pencas) of the agave plants and the agave hearts. These will roast
(and smoke) for days, if not weeks. The resulting spirit is very smoky and earthy, compared to the tidier
baked notes of tequila.
Tequila and Mezcal – How
It is a common misconception that the agave is a cactus. It is not, rather, it is but one of a family of
succulents from the lily family, with more than 400 species. Agave’s botanical family name is agavacea,
the Greek word for royalty, and at maturity (minimum of five to six years) develops a sap called aguamiel
within its piña.

Some books erroneously state that aguamiel is fermented into a kind of milky beer called pulque and then
is distilled. WRONNNNNGGG. Pulque cannot be distilled, since it turns into something like gum in the
pot still.

To make tequila or mezcal, the agave hearts are cooked and shredded (or sometimes shredded then
cooked), but they must be cooked before fermentation. The juice of the agave hearts is pressed out and
then fermented; now the fermented juice can be distilled.

Tequila and mezcal may be distilled either in continuous stills or pot stills. Most of the best are made only
in pot stills or small hybrid stills. They come out of those stills at fairly low proof, compared to spirits
such as vodka and even whiskey. As a result, tequila has a lot of flavors and aromas and seems very
intense to most people. Nonetheless, well made tequila can finish with a gentler, tart and almost mild
character, despite its assertive aromas.

Some mezcals are distilled in ancient, even primitive, clay pot stills. These medieval contraptions
probably enhance the smoky flavor, but mezcals can be no less seductive than tequilas in their finish,
even if the first flavors are wild and crazy.

Tequila and Mezcal –When

Although Tequila is a truly Mexican spirit, it is accurate to describe it as a Spanish invention. The
heritage and history associated with this elixir dates back over a thousand years. Before the Spaniards
brought the art of distillation to Mexico in the early 1500s, the Aztecs consumed a wine-like liquid called
pulque, made from the fermented syrup extracted from the heart of agaves plants. Spaniards called it Vino
de Mezcal. Though consumption of pulque was reserved almost exclusively for religious rites, the agave
plant (aka, maguey) was utilized by Mexico’s native peoples for everything from food and drink to shoes,
soap, building supplies, rope and even medicine.

Tequila’s fame rose north of the border more slowly. While a handful of border U.S. states—Arizona,
Texas, New Mexico, California—joined in, the rest of the U.S. was ignorant of tequila’s charms until
Prohibition. During that time, any spirit was good spirit, and tequila gained some notoriety, at least in
gossip and print.

It’s erroneous to assume that only the Margarita put tequila on the world consumer’s map, but it did a lot
to popularize the strange Mexican spirit. Lots of people have claimed credit for the drink’s creation. In the
late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the Daisy was a standard bar drink, with citrus juice, a syrup
or liqueur sweetener (such as orange curaçao) and a spirit base. In the 1920s and 1930s, a drink called the
Tequila Daisy was popular in the bars of Tijuana and elsewhere in Mexico.

Before we let Margarite Sames take all the credit for inventing the drink (that’s just one of many stories),
we should note that the Spanish word for “daisy” is margarita. In any case, the Hollywood set of the
1930s partied heartily with Tequila Daisies or, if you prefer, Margaritas. Even today, the Margarita is the
single most popular cocktail in the United States. It’s done a lot for tequila, even if some Margaritas seem
to have very little tequila in them.
Despite U.S. intransigence in protecting the name, more than three quarters of tequila and mezcal exports
are sold in this country. And tequila and mezcal dollar sales growth here outstrips any other category over
the last decade, at least by percentage.

It took a little longer for tequila to conquer the rest of the world, although it’s worth noting that the 1937
Café Royal Cocktail Book, from London, contains ten recipes for tequila drinks. But it really wasn’t until
the 1970s that tequila began making inroads in European markets, where its growth was driven in no
small part by the association that it had acquired with the counterculture and the rock-and-roll lifestyle.

Principal Tequila Cocktails

• Margarita
• Tequila Sunrise
• Paloma

Tasting Tequila and Mezcal

As usual, the best way to find flavor and identify differences is to put several tequilas and mezcals next to
each other. Mezcal should be readily identifiable by its characteristic smoky smells. Blanco, reposado,
añejo and extra añejo will often be easy to spot by color alone, with añejo and extra añejo being deeper in
color. So turn the lights down a bit and see if you can smell the differences.

One of the most interesting distinctions to agave spirits is that the site where the agave is grown seems to
be expressed in many Tequilas and Mezcals,. It’s especially noticeable in blancos and reposados, before
the barrel has a chance to cover up more subtle differences. High elevation tequilas are often more citrusy
in the mouth and nose (lemon, lime and grapefruit) and can have a smell that some people call “wet
sidewalk” or “wet cement.”

You’ll taste them to see if they are:

• Clean or dirty
• Dry, salty, tart or slightly sweet
• Smooth, spicy or aggressive
• Gentle or powerful
• Fruity, floral, vegetal, earthy and/or herbal
• Rich or thin
• Soft, sharp or burning

If they are aged in oak, they can have all of the above flavors as well as spices, coconut, vanilla,
chocolate, ash and other barrel/woody smells. Tequila can be very complex and powerful but it should be
clean and dry and not bitter and not sweet.

Tasting Flight #5 – Tequila

#1 Sauza Gold – acetone, unpleasant rotting grass, sour
#2 Olmeca Altos Plata – roasted agave, rich flavor, long finish, light mouth feel
#3 Avion Reposado – full-bodied, roasted agave and vanilla, long finish
#4 Partita Añejo – full-bodied, sweet, rich, heavy-textured, brown
#5 Chinaco “Negro” Extra Añejo – dark, vanilla and toffee, agave, chocolate, spice
#6 Del Maguey Vida Mezcal – roasted tropical fruit, smoke, agave, long finish
Whisk(e)y –What
Earlier we wrote that the word whiskey is derived from the Gaelic term “uisce beatha”, which means
“water of life.” But the term whiskey, as it’s spelled both in Ireland and the U.S. (“whisky’, if you’re in
Scotland, Canada or Japan— although it’s worth noting that this convention is recent and completely
arbitrary) connotes that a grain spirit has been aged in oak long enough to take on new aromas and
flavors, most of which come from the barrel itself. These smoky, spicy notes define the taste of whiskey
(the generic spelling we’ll use for convenience) for most people.

As so often with rules, the time required in barrel for a grain spirit to earn the title of “whiskey” varies
from country to country. While differences other than barrel aging requirements exist among the world’s
many whiskeys, it is a whiskey’s time in barrel that does the most to define it. Most whiskey distillers
postulate that up to 70 percent of the flavor of their whiskey comes from the barrel in which it is matured.

We’ll also address the issue of where the barrel has been aged, but for the moment, it’s enough to state
upfront that every whiskey in the world is made from only three easily obtained ingredients: grain, water
and yeast.

Whiskey is a grain spirit that has been distilled in continuous and/or pot stills and that is aged in barrels
for some specified period of time. In its essence, it is a beer that has been distilled to high proof and then
aged in oak. A recent trend in the U.S. involves small, artisanal (as they identify themselves, often
accurately) distilleries marketing white or unaged whiskey. To date, there has been no breakthrough
product of this description, but it bears observing.

Whisk(e)y –Where
Whiskey is made all over the world. One way to think of whiskey production is that anywhere that beer is
made, whiskey can be made.

In the U.S., North American blended whiskey (see below) is the number one category of whiskey in sales
volume; Canadian whisky is close behind. However, in the U.S., the fastest growing spirit category of all
since 2000 has been Irish whiskey. In 2009, Irish whiskey again enjoyed double-digit growth, from San
Francisco to Boston. In Scotch whisky, single-malt whisky sales remain strong while blended whisky
sales (see below for definitions) are stable. Bourbon and Tennessee whiskey sales are robust, though
bourbon is only now gaining the dominance and reputation it so surely deserves.

In Great Britain, Scotch whisky dominates the market, as it does in much of the world. In Ireland, though,
it is of course Irish whiskey that rules as this dynamic industry expands. The addition of a fourth whiskey
distillery, Kilbeggan, brings new hope and inspiration to Irish whiskey’s international audience.

Other, non-English speaking countries also produce whiskey; none are more deserving of our attention
than Japan, though Japanese whisky (as they spell it) will remain little known for the foreseeable future.
There are also quality whiskeys from Brittany in France (a Celtic area), Germany, Sweden, Austria,
Australia and India.

Of the major whiskey-making countries, only Scotland makes a big noise about the particular district or
area where a distillery sits. Why? Because with all but a handful of other spirits (cognac, armagnac,
tequila and mezcal), where a spirit is distilled doesn’t have a profound impact upon the flavors in that
spirit. Indeed, with Tequila and mezcal the region where the agaves are grown is far more important than
the particular location of the distillery.

In Scotland, though, the distillery’s address has something to do with the flavors in the whisky. We can
argue as to why. Is it the water they use? Is it the temperature of the water they use? Is it the proximity to
the ocean and the preponderance of the salty, briny sea air on some islands? These are no small details
because they impact the character of many blended and single-malt Scotch whiskies. In other words, the
whiskies from The Glenlivet Distillery in Speyside are unique and emblematic of that particular place in
the Scottish Highlands.

Some outdated books divide Scotland’s distillery regions into groups such as Speyside (a classic area
around the Spey River in east-central Scotland), the Lowlands (where all those grain whiskies are made),
the Western Highlands (some of them are fairly fruity, but isn’t that from the old wine barrels they use?),
the Islands (with their briny, salty, sea air derived intensity) and Campbeltown (with a touch of everything
to it).

Paul Pacult, one of BAR’s partners, knows a good deal more about these things than most other living
humans, and he no longer buys into such a fragmentation. For Paul, it’s as simple as talking about inland
distilleries (they tend to be a bit more elegant and often show the peppery floral note redolent of heather
flowers and other vegetation) and the maritime distilleries that so often burst with the aromas of the
ocean. Everything else is due to something other than location.

Whisk(e)y – When
If Scotch whisky is viewed as a benchmark of whiskey making, it’s worth noting that a century ago, Irish
whiskey was king. That’s not to say that whiskey in Ireland necessarily preceded whisky in Scotland
since the actual history of each is sketchy. There are lots of hints at spirit production in Ireland possibly as
early as the twelfth century A.D. and in Scotland by the thirteenth century, but the first irrefutable proof is
a Scottish tax record from A.D.1494: “To Friar John Cor, by the order of the King, to make aqua vitae,
eight bolls of malt.” The good friar wasn’t cooking up a little medicine for scrapes and cuts; eight bolls is
the equivalent of over 1,100 pounds of malted barley. Somebody was thirsty.

Consequently, bits of circumstantial evidence point to the leap of faith that there must have been
substantial distillation happening prior to that record, albeit smaller, less commercial endeavors. Some
historians believe that Irish Celtic monks visited the Iberian Peninsula (Spain and Portugal) some years
before Friar John was filling his still and brought back with them the secrets of boiling fermented liquids.
The Muslim rulers of Spain and Portugal were well versed in the distilling arts, and their alchemists made
medicines and perfumes in their stills.

It stands to reason with current knowledge that Irish travelers, perhaps clergy, brought the concept back to
Eire, where monasteries were the sites of large-scale beer brewing (as well as cheese making and other
necessities of life). At some point, monks began distilling their beers. Many historians, including BAR’s
resident whiskey maven Pacult, believe that the Irish brought the concept of distillation to the Scots,
possibly in either the thirteenth or fourteenth century.

In any case, by the middle of the 1500s, when it was still something of a rarity in Scotland, whiskey was
so well established as the drink of the Irish people that the English occupying authorities felt the need to
pass regulations against its excessive use. Eventually, the English wised up to the revenue potential of this
new industry. That fact goes a long way toward explaining how until recently distillation was a cottage
industry in both Ireland and Scotland. The health and vigor of both countries’ spirits industries were
purposefully hampered by British tax laws. As little more than colonies of England, the two were not
supposed to offer any competition to England’s wares. Taxes and tariffs saw to that.

One notable Scottish exception is Ferintosh, a distillery along the Scotland’s eastern coast. During one of
Scotland’s many brief and bloody rebellions, the owners of Ferintosh threw their lot in with the English
Crown. From 1690 to 1784, when the excise law was changed, Ferintosh was alone in being allowed to
export its Scotch whisky to England. The rest were welcome to consume their whisky and to trade it with
their neighbors, so long as they paid an onerous tax upon every drop they distilled. But they were never to
export it to the outside world, unless they first paid taxes and then sold it to an English middleman, who
would earn all the profits.

In the years before the laws were changed in the first quarter of the nineteenth century, thousands of Scots
were imprisoned for producing and/or smuggling spirit to England and Europe by land or sea. By 1824,
much of the illegal activity was quelled by changes in Parliamentary legislation that made it easier and
cheaper to become fully licensed. Unsurprisingly, smuggling convictions plummeted by the 1840s.

Not everyone was happy with the new rules. In order to produce whisky, a distillery had to purchase a
license, and the license came with some strings. For one, you had to house and feed an exciseman (tax
collector) on your premises so that the Crown could be assured that you weren’t playing any games with
those rules. That was bad enough. But housing a government man on your property meant that all your
neighbors had to either go legal and buy a permit (and house a revenue man of their very own) or give up
distilling illegally, as some had been doing for centuries.

George Smith, proprietor of The Glenlivet Distillery, so angered his fellow Speyside distillers that he
traveled (and even slept) with a pair of pistols at his side. It wasn’t bluster; some of his neighbors swore
bloody revenge for bringing the government into their midst along the river Livet. The pistols came in
handy; there are two well-known episodes during which they saved his life.

But Parliament had finally ended most illegal distillation in Scotland and planted the seeds of a mighty
global industry. Still, Scotch whisky was more or less a small cottage industry until the development of
continuous stills. Those stills were fired up and cranking out neutral grain spirit in the Lowlands, and it
only took a few enterprising individuals to utilize the cheaper, neutral spirit in the pursuit of a cheaper,
easier way to sell spirit.

Their names are still common today: Andrew Usher, Chivas, Johnnie Walker, Ballantine, Dewar,
Buchanan and a number of other grocer/merchants who simply wanted to blend their purchased single-
malt whisky barrels into something very consistent, affordable, large scale and, well, brand-able. In other
words, they could create a whisky, put their names on it and never have to do anything other than go
shopping.

Clearly, it worked. In 1901 a British court decided that any whisky created in Scotland could theoretically
be called Scotch whisky, regardless of whether it was made in a pot still (like single malt) or a continuous
still (like grain whisky). Since then, blended Scotch whisky sales have crushed the sales of single malts,
and today dwarf the whisky sales of any other country’s output.

Meanwhile, in Ireland, things developed rather differently, to the point that, thirty years ago, the industry
was dying. After a wildly prosperous nineteenth century, when the distilleries of Dublin, Belfast and Cork
turned out vast quantities of high-quality pure pot-still whiskey, both to supply a massive domestic
market for export to America and all corners of the British Empire, the twentieth century hit the Irish
distillers like a sock full of shillings—the Irish Rebellion of 1916, Prohibition in America, two world
wars, a worldwide depression, the Troubles in the North, heavy emigration from the Republic and a
domestic shift away from whiskey to the cheaper beer. The list of commercial disasters and misfortunes is
a long one.

By 1980, the thirty working distilleries that the island had supported in 1900 had been culled to just two,
both of them owned by the same company: Bushmills in Northern Ireland, which made Old Bushmills,
and the Midleton Distillery in County Cork in the Irish Republic, which made everything else, from
Jameson’s to Power’s to Paddy to Redbreast. Long-established distilleries such as Locke in Kilbeggan,
which had been in operation since the mid-eighteenth century, were closed and silent.

Neither of the working distilleries was much interested in the kinds of well-aged top-shelf bottlings that
appeal to whiskey connoisseurs. They focused instead on lighter, younger blended whiskeys that were
priced to compete with Johnnie Walker Red Label, White Horse, Dewars and all the other Scotch blends
that had dominated the world market for Celtic whiskey since the turn of the century. Now, there’s
nothing wrong with blended whiskeys, per se. But there is an irony here: the whole reason the Scots
turned to making them in the first place, back in the mid-nineteenth century, was to have something more
like what their cousins across the Irish Sea were selling.

Traditional Scotch whisky, as we’ve seen, was the sort of thing that those who loved it loved well, but it
definitely wasn’t for everybody. The solution Scotland’s whisky-merchants hit upon was blending. The
Irish, on the other hand, had no need to monkey around with blending and column stills (while column
stills were in operation, particularly in Ulster, their product was marked for export and didn’t find its way
into Irish whiskey until the mid-twentieth century).

Irish distilling boasted a number of differences from the Scots in the way they did things such as much
larger pot stills, which yield a lighter spirit and triple distillation (likewise), and the use of hot air rather
than peat smoke to dry their malt also made for a whiskey that was smoother and cleaner-tasting (and
cheaper to make) than Scottish pot-still whisky. Yet, Irish whiskeys had far more body and flavor than the
insipid grain whiskey—particularly since Irish distillers generally mixed their malted barley with raw
barley, oats and rye, which gave it a pleasing, spicy graininess. On the strength of this, Irish distillers
were able to resist the economic advantages of blending until the late 1930s, when they were finally
forced to install continuous stills.

Whisk(e)y – How
Rules and traditions vary from country to country, so it’s best to take whiskey data one country at a time
in this order: Scotland, Ireland, United States and Canada.

Whisky – Scotland
Scotland is justly viewed as the epicenter of whisky making in the world. Walk into a bar anywhere
(outside of the U.S. and Ireland) and if you ask for a whisky, the bartender will point at a wall of Scotch
bottles. What precisely are they showing you?

Scotch is a distilled and aged in wood grain spirit: distilled either from relatively inexpensive grains (such
as corn or wheat) or from malted barley. If you’ve double- (or occasionally triple-) distilled the barley
beer in pot stills at a single distillery, the whisky you make from that malted barley beer is called a single-
malt whisky.

If you’re using corn or wheat, you’re probably using continuous stills and distilling to neutral grain spirit
levels (say 190-proof or so). In other words, you’re starting to close in on vodka territory. But regardless,
if you aged that spirit into a whisky, you would call that whisky a grain whisky because you made it from
a grain, and not from malted barley or “malt.”

Back in the production module, we discussed how beer was made: grains were allowed to become warm
and wet, and they would sprout, believing spring to be at hand. As they prepared to sprout, latent starches
would be converted into sugars. The brewmaster would roast the grains at that very moment, in order to
halt the sprouting process and capture those sugars. The grains would then be ground up and boiling water
added, and the sugary cereal/soup would be ready for yeasts to convert those sugars into alcohol.
In beer production, the amount of time the grains are roasted helps determine the style of beer. Dark beers
such as Guinness have been roasted until they are dark and chocolaty. In Scotch production, the roasting
can be equally influential. Here’s why: for much of Scotland’s history, the only fuel they had available
was peat; coal was too expensive and forests were cleared for farming by the time the Romans invaded
Britain in the first century B.C. Peat is compressed vegetation that’s halfway to becoming coal. Damp, it’s
cut from the ground and allowed to dry. When you burn it, it’s intensely smoky.

So malted barley used for Scotch has traditionally been roasted over smoky fires, and the resultant whisky
smells smoky. There’s no other word for it, though we spirits writers like to talk about the brine and the
salt and the earth and the leather and the smell of the sea. But we’re mostly just talking about the
smokiness imparted to the grain during the roasting. It’s important to bear in mind, however, that not all
Scotch whisky is made from peat-smoked barley.

Scotch production regulations are particular about the grains you use. When the semi-sprouted and
roasted grain is barley, it’s referred to as malted barley; in Scotland, a “malt whisky” can be made only
from malted barley. If any other grains are used, it must be called “grain whisky.” If the malt whisky
comes from a single distillery (as opposed to blends from several distilleries), it’s called a “single-malt
whisky”.

The vast majority of Scotch whiskies (95 percent) sold in the U.S. and the rest of the world are not single
malt whiskies. They are “blended Scotch whiskies.” A blended Scotch whisky comprises at least one
single-malt whisky and a large dose of grain whisky.

This may seem confusing, so hang on. You already know what a single-malt whisky is. Great blended
Scotch whiskies have many single malt whiskies blended into them; the idea is to capture as much
complexity as possible by adding a bit from some of the best distilleries around Scotland, from legendary
places such as Speyside, Campbeltown and the islands. But almost all of the blended Scotch whiskies
have far more grain whisky than single-malt whisky in them. So a very serious blended whisky may be
comprised of 40 percent single malts (from a bunch of places, to gain complexity) and 60 percent grain
whisky. A blended Scotch whisky intended for the well in someone’s bar probably has only 10 or 20
percent single malt-whisky in it.

So the grain whisky is a huge factor in blended Scotch whisky. And most grain whiskies are distilled to
the sort of proof that we associate with vodka. In other words, most grain whiskies don’t have a lot of
flavors and aromas, at least not compared to single-malt whiskies. That said, without the filtration and
multiple distillations that vodka undergoes, they still manage to retain some grain flavor.

But here’s the kicker, single-malt whiskies have too much flavor for a lot of people. One hundred and
fifty years ago, there were few blended Scotch whiskies, and few people outside of Great Britain drank
Scotch. Once distillers began dumping grain whisky into those powerful and flavorful single malt
whiskies, well, then sales started to really take off. Blended Scotch, it can be stated, turned Scotch
whisky into a national industry with global implications.

And if single-malt whiskies are much sought after for their often intense personalities, it’s worth
remembering that a great blended whisky contains a lot of those personalities, softened with a dose of
grain whisky. Sure, the single malt might be more singular, but the community of personalities contained
in a great blended whisky is likely to be far more complex than a single malt. Don’t be a whisky snob!
So the categories of Scotch whisky are:

•   Single Malt-Whisky: a whisky made of malted barley, double distilled in pot stills (only one malt
distillery, Auchentoshan in the Scottish Lowlands, triple distills) at one distillery, distilled no
higher than 70 percent abv, and aged in oak barrels for a legal minimum of three years. At present
there are about 100 malt distilleries operating around Scotland.
•   Blended Scotch Whisky: a whisky made of malt whisky (double distilled in pot stills) and grain
whisky (probably distilled in continuous stills to a very high proof) and aged in oak barrels for a
legal minimum of three years.
•   Blended Malt Whisky (formerly known as Vatted Malt Whisky): a blend composed only of at
least two single-malt whiskies, instead of products of only one (single) distillery, and aged in oak
barrels for a legal minimum of three years.
•   Grain Whisky: a whisky distilled from any grain (typically either wheat or corn), usually in
continuous stills, and aged in oak barrels for a legal minimum of three years. There are around
eight grain distilleries in Scotland.

Barrel usage and selection are crucial. You will most frequently see used bourbon barrels, but there are
many producers who love to add the dried fruit characteristics that can be leached out of used sherry
barrels. In truth, sherry barrels were adopted a century ago, because all sherry was once shipped to
England in barrels (not in bottles as is legally required today) and the empty barrels were cheap and
plentiful. While used bourbon barrels are still relatively cheap, used sherry barrels are not. Sherry
producers no longer ship their product in barrels and typically don’t want new barrel aromas and flavors;
they’re perfectly content to keep using the old barrels until they break.

By law, all whiskies made in Scotland must be aged in wood barrels for a minimum of three years, though
most are aged for much longer. So Scotch producers have to buy the barrels new and loan them to the
sherry makers, who will hand them over after a decade or two of use. Just for the record, they make the
Scotch producers pay for shipping too. Not a bad deal.

Also, two other salient points regarding Scotch whisky. One, the age statement on the bottle (18 Years
Old, 21Years Old, for example) is the age of the youngest whisky used in that particular bottling, no
matter the type of Scotch whisky. Two, in addition to the normal bottlings of single malts issued directly
by distilleries, there is, of late, another type of single-malt offering, called merchant bottlings. These are
whiskies that have been purchased by the barrel from brokers or malt distilleries and then aged and
bottled by independent merchants/agents, such as Gordon & MacPhail, Duncan Taylor, Scott’s
Selections, Cadenhead’s, Compass Box, Murray McDavid and many others. What makes these offerings
intriguing is whether or not they mirror the established style of the distillery. Anyway, be aware of them
for your customers’ education.

Whiskey–Ireland
Whiskey has been produced in Ireland perhaps since the twelfth century A.D., and certainly since the
fifteenth. Many historians espouse the concept of Christian monks trained either in Salerno, Italy or in
Spain as the prime movers of distillation in Ireland. English invading forces are said to have reported back
to King Henry II in the 1170s about how the Scots- Gaels produced a potent liquid made from “boiling”,
which carries the clear implication of distillation. Whether or not it was beer or wine that they were
boiling will never be known. That said, it appears likely that in twelfth century Ireland, the distillation of
liquids occurred. After great success and then a great crash, detailed above, the Irish whiskey industry is
showing great signs of resurgence.

Before World War I there were hundreds of whiskey distilleries dotted across Ireland. Two world wars,
the Irish Civil War, the Great Depression and the U.S. Prohibition drastically changed forever the
landscape of Irish distilling. Right now, there are only four distilleries running in Ireland, Jameson-
Midleton in County Cork (Republic of Ireland), Old Bushmills in County Antrim (Northern Ireland),
Kilbeggan Distillery in County Westmeath (Republic of Ireland), and Cooley Distillery in County Louth
(Republic of Ireland).

But that’s double the number there were twenty years ago, and Irish whiskey is the fastest growing spirits
category in U.S. and several other global markets, more than doubling in the past five years. Irish
whiskey’s natural mixability accounts for much of this dramatic growth. What’s more, many new
bottlings of fine, well-aged whiskey are available, and whiskey connoisseurs are rapidly coming to
understand and acknowledge that some of the finest whiskeys made in the British Isles and indeed the
world hail from the Emerald Isle.

Some whiskey books foolishly claim that all Irish whiskey is triple distilled with unmalted and malted
barley in pot stills. That’s false. Midleton, Bushmills and Cooley all make whiskeys that are triple
distilled from 100 percent malted barley, while Jameson, the leading Irish whiskey in the world and
unquestionably a more representative Irish whiskey than any other, is based not only upon pot-still barley
whiskey, but also upon corn or wheat “grain whiskeys”
that have been distilled to a higher proof in continuous stills. Again, as with blended Scotch whisky,
adding some grain whiskey to the blend makes for a milder, easier-to-drink spirit. Less aggressive flavor
and easy drinkability aren’t negatives, especially when you’re trying to compete with the vodka monster.

If the Scots, to some cynical observers, have been annoyingly specific about which grain you can use and
which kind of still is to be used, the Irish have been less vocal about their industry’s standards. They
allow both pot stills and continuous stills into their production methods, and they allow malted barley and
unmalted barley, as well as any other grain you like (they used to use a lot of oats and rye, but now they
use wheat and corn almost exclusively), and you can use any sort of barrel you like. Occasionally, the
malt is peated, as with many Scotch whiskies, but in general it is not.

Like whiskey producers the world over, used bourbon barrels are the most common aging vessels in
Ireland. Bourbon producers are required by law to use brand new white oak barrels for all new spirits, so
there are a lot of used barrels hanging around the yard. And much as their Scottish neighbors across the
Irish sea are, the Irish are now playing with not only used sherry barrels, but also used port and Madeira
barrels, used wine barrels, and anything else that sounds interesting and can be bought reasonably. The
Scots too have expanded their barrel selection to these and other kinds of oaks. Like Scotch, Irish
whiskeys must be matured in barrels for a three-year minimum.

Also, small pot stills in Ireland are usually larger than the biggest pot still in Scotland. Why is that
important? Because big pot stills, like those at Midleton Distillery that produces Redbreast, allow for the
distillation process to happen many times inside the large pot; it’s a little like a continuous still in which a
series of chambers allows a succession of individual pot distillations to happen. Instead, the massive Irish
pot stills allow the vaporized spirit to knock about inside the pot, often re-condensing on the still’s sides
and sliding back down to be vaporized yet again.

That means the spirit that comes out of a big still tends to be cleaner, lighter and less heavily aromatic
than the spirit that comes out of a small still. Between the lack of smoke and the bigger stills, Irish
whiskey justifiably has a reputation for being softer and milder than most single-malt Scotch whiskies.

There are four fundamental kinds of Irish whiskey:

•   Single-malt whiskey: made from 100 percent malted barley in a pot still in a single distillery.
Bushmills leads the way in this category, but Midleton and Cooley also make some.
 •   Grain whiskey: continuous stills make this light whiskey of wheat or corn.
•   Pure Pot-Still whiskey: made from malted and unmalted barley in a pot still. Redbreast is the
classic.
•   Blended Whiskey: A marriage of single-malt and/or single pot-still and grain whiskeys. Jameson
and John Powers are examples of single pot-still and grain whiskey blends, while Bushmills’
blends are single malt and grain whiskey. Paddy and Tullamore Dew are blends of single pot-still,
single-malt and grain whiskeys.

Makers of Irish whiskey, unlike Scotch whisky, typically do not use peat to roast their grains. As a result,
the smoky/ash-like note so evident in Scotch is rarely present in Irish whiskeys, though there are a couple
of exceptions from Cooley Distillery.

Whiskey: Bourbon and Tennessee – USA

Some people might complain that we’ve lumped these two great whiskeys together, but only a few details
separate one from the other, and it makes complete sense to address both varieties simultaneously. Both
bourbon and Tennessee whiskeys, the greatest whiskeys made in America, require that the producer use
only brand-new charred oak barrels for aging (customarily, these are made from American white oak).
Both utilize corn as the dominant grain in the mashbill (the recipe that contains the grain ratios), along
with a little bit of barley and either wheat or rye in similarly small amounts. Both whiskey types carry the
sweet character of corn, along with the burnt and smoky wood-like notes of charred barrels. Both must be
aged in in new, charred American oak "packages" (in reality, that translates to barrels, although boxes
could legally be used if anyone was eccentric enough to try that). There is no legal minimum age,
although they can't be called "straight" bourbon or Tennessee whiskey until they have spent at least two
years in oak; at under four years,they has to say how long they have been aged on the bottle. (If a four-
year-old whiskey is bottled at 50% abv and it was all distilled in the same place during the same season, it
becomes "bonded.") Most major-distillery bourbons and Tennessee whiskeys are at least four years old,
and these days we’re seeing them sold with eight, ten, 18 or even 21 years of aging. Both may be distilled
to no higher than 160 proof (80 percent alcohol) and must not be bottled at below 80 proof (40 percent
alcohol).

While Kentucky is the state most identified with bourbon, bourbon can legally come from any state in
America. Virginia has long been a whiskey distilling stronghold. Ironically, Bourbon County, Kentucky,
the birthplace of bourbon two centuries ago, has no working distilleries at this time. The majority of
bourbons are products of continuous distillation first and then a second distillation in a kettle-like still
called a “doubler” or “thumper”.

Tennessee sour mash whiskey is made only in Tennessee. And Tennessee whiskey production has one
more little wrinkle. In the mid- 800s, the founder of Jack Daniel Distillery, Alfred Eaton, introduced a
filtration step, utilizing little cubes of charcoal made from the local sugar maple trees. The “Lincoln
County Process” requires only that the spirit be filtered through sugar maple charcoal prior to aging,
though the two Tennessee distilleries (Jack Daniels and George Dickel) each employ huge round vats
through which the unaged spirit is gently dripped, or in which the spirit soaks. The idea is to remove a
few more congeners and render the spirit smoother, but some people think the Lincoln County Process
adds a charcoal note to Tennessee whiskey as well.

Otherwise, bourbon and Tennessee whiskeys have much the same flavors and aromas. Another small
detail: bourbon requires at least 51 percent corn in the mashbill, though there may be as much as 80
percent; Tennessee has the same minimum of corn but demands that corn fill no more than 79 percent,
perhaps in hopes that the small grains (as they call wheat and rye) will produce a slightly lighter, gentler
whiskey.
Last, both of these varieties of American whiskey are considered “sour mash” whiskeys, or whiskeys in
which a small portion of each fermentation (the “backset”) is held back and then added to the next mash.
This innovation was created and promoted by Dr. James Crow in the 1830s and remains a staple
production step to this day. The sour mash concept ensures a large measure of character, continuity and
consistency from batch to batch.

Rye Whiskey – USA

Rye whiskey was the favored spirit of colonial America since rye was the grain of choice in the
eighteenth century. Just a few years ago, mainstream rye brands were hard to find, but cheap if you found
them. Rye whiskey is the hottest thing flowing across American whiskey bars right now, fueled by
cocktail geeks who have noted that the classic Manhattan recipe (among others) calls for rye whiskey, not
bourbon. Today, rye is hard to find because of demand and thus is ever more expensive. Whiskey
producers aren’t stupid, but the process of making whiskey is slow, so until there are more rye whiskeys
on the market, the prices for those that are available will keep going up.

The rules for rye whiskey are exactly the same as for bourbon and Tennessee whiskeys, except that the
mashbill now requires a minimum of 51 percent rye (though it’s usually more), while corn and barley
make up the remainder.

Bartenders are learning that rye offers another desirable weapon behind bars; instead of the sweet
ponderousness of corn, there is a lighter, spicier character to rye. Cocktails made with rye can seem
crisper and more peppery than those made with corn. Rye whiskey sales are growing at nearly 50 percent
annually over the last two years, making it one of the hottest spirits categories in North America.

Bonded Whiskey – USA

The old-timers still buy these, but Bonded Whiskeys are fewer in number and farther between sightings.
Not long ago, producers created whiskeys bottled in bond; the tax on the whiskey wouldn’t be paid until
the whiskey was sold and “released from bond”. It would (and still must) come from a single distillery
and needs at least four years of barrel aging. But all that is less important than the tradition of selling that
bonded whiskey at 100 proof. So when you see a whiskey bottle that says “Bottled in Bond” or “Bonded
Whiskey”, you’re looking at a 100 proof (50 percent alcohol) whiskey, which is a couple more gears on
the crankshaft than the usual 80 proof that fills most whiskey bottles. Use with respect, but expect a
gutsier, more intense whiskey.

Straight Whiskey – USA

Not to confuse the issue, but the term “Straight Whiskey” applies to any whiskey that has been distilled to
no higher than 160 proof and bottled at no less than 80 proof, contains at least 51 percent of one type of
grain in the mashbill, and has been matured in barrels for the legal minimum of two years. So straight
whiskeys include bourbon, Tennessee, corn and rye. It’s similar to what we will cover in the Brandy
module: Brandy is a kind of distillate made from wine and a spirit category. Cognac and armagnac are
types of brandies.

Corn Whiskey – USA

You don’t see much of this category anymore. A corn whiskey follows all the same production rules as
Tennessee, bourbon and rye except that, if aged in wood at all, it must be placed in previously used
charred oak barrels or uncharred new ones, and a mashbill with a minimum of 80 percent corn is
necessary.

Whisky – Canada
Grain distilling in Canada is almost as old as grain distilling in the United States, dating to the late 1700s.
At first, the whiskey being made in England’s Canadian colonies was indistinguishable from what was
being made in Pennsylvania or Maryland or any of the other colonies that would become the United
States. Pot stilled, rye-heavy, rough and unaged. In the early and mid-nineteenth century, however, under
the impetus of pioneers such as Thomas Molson, William Gooderham, James Worts, Henry Corby and
Joseph Seagram, Canadian whisky (note the preferred spelling) began taking on an identity of its own. It’s
worth noting that all of those men were all Englishmen, as opposed to the Germans, Scotsmen and
Irishmen who dominated the industry south of the border, and they set up their distilleries in an English
way—they tended to be large, technically advanced and with a preference for clean, pure spirits to rough,
funky ones (the majority of England’s distillers were actually rectifiers, who took raw spirits from
elsewhere and redistilled them into things like gin and “British brandy,” a rectified grain spirit flavored to
resemble brandy).

In any case, in the early nineteenth century Canadian distillers such as Molson and Gooderham & Worts
were making two main types of whiskey, a pure barley-malt whiskey for export to Britain and American
style rye and corn (and also wheat) whiskeys for local consumption. As yet, there was little market for
either of these products in the United States. That changed with the American Civil War, when Canadian
whiskies flooded in to make up for the shortfalls the war caused in domestic production. By the end of the
century, the firms led by Harry Corby and Hiram Walker (an American, ironically, who for most of his
life commuted every day to his Canadian distillery and offices by taking a boat across the Detroit River
from his home on the American side) were exporting considerable amounts of a new kind of Canadian
blended whisky to the United States and indeed to markets around the world. This new whisky, a
Canadian version of the blended whiskies that were turning Scotch into a global spirit, was basically what
we think of when we think of Canadian whisky today: a fairly light, mellow and well-aged product made
by blending a base whisky—essentially a Canadian version of the grain whisky used in Scotland—and
one or more “flavoring” whiskies. Where in Scotland the flavoring whiskies were single malts, though, in
Canada they were American straight whiskeys, much like they were made south of the Canadian border.
Brands such as Hiram Walker’s Canadian Club, Seagram’s and Gooderham & Worts’ G&W Special were
making inroads into the American market and widely available, at least in the northern states.

Prohibition shuttered many an American winery, brewery and distillery and created a criminal class that
still bedevils American life today. But its effects upon Canada were demonstrably kinder. The second
year of Prohibition saw a 400 percent increase in Canadian whisky sales, most of that delivered via the
Great Lakes or a (recently discovered) pipeline across the Detroit River. In worldwide export markets, the
suddenly unavailable whiskeys from the United States were soon replaced by brands such as Canadian
Club, Corby’s Royal Reserve and Wiser’s Old Rye.

After Repeal, Canadian whisky had gained such a strong position in the United States market that to this
day it remains one of the highest selling categories of spirits in the country: in 2013, 16.5 million cases of
Canadian whisky were sold, versus 18 million of bourbon, rye and Tennessee whiskey.

Canadian Whisky Today

The twentieth century subjected the Canadian whisky industry to the same pressures that affected
American distillers. Consolidation and standardization shrank the number of distilleries, greatly expanded
them in size, and limited the number and variety of products they were making. At the same time, heavy
capital investment and a lack of regulations limiting distillers to traditional methods allowed the
Canadians to build the most technologically advanced whisky industry in the world. Today, there are
eight main distilleries making Canadian “rye,” as the whisky is known in Canada (the name is traditional
rather than descriptive: it’s entirely possible, and indeed common, for a Canadian whisky made from
100% corn to be labeled “rye”); all are owned by large multinational corporations.

The Hiram Walker & Sons distillery in Windsor, Ontario (across the river from Detroit) is owned by
Pernod-Ricard Ltd and makes Wiser’s and Corby whiskies, among others, for Pernod-Ricard and contract
distills Canadian Club for Beam-Suntory. It is the largest distillery in North America. Also in Ontario is
Brown-Forman’s Collingwood distillery, home of Canadian Mist and Collingwood and Campari’s
Kittling Ridge distillery, where Forty Creek is made. Diageo makes Crown Royal and several other
brands at distilleries at Gimli, Winnipeg and Valleyfield, Quebec. There are three distilleries in Alberta,
Beam-Suntory’s Alberta Distillers in Calgary, home of Alberta Prime and a few other brands,
Constellation Brands’ Palliser distillery in Lethbridge, home of Black Velvet, and the small Highwood
plant in High River, which makes a variety of niche brands. Beyond these, there are a number of micro
distilleries making malt and other international styles of whisk(e)y.

While there are detail differences between the processes used in these eight distilleries, they agree on
general principles. Most of the whiskies they make are blended from a base whisky and one or more
flavoring whiskies, although occasionally they will release one of the flavoring whiskies or, rarely, the
base whisky by itself. Let’s look at these two styles of whisky in a little more detail.

The base whisky. This is generally made from 100% corn, with enzymes derived from the aspergillum
mold used to start fermentation (instead of the small proportion of barley malt used in other countries). It
is distilled in large column stills to 94.5% alcohol (the same proof used in Scotland for grain whisky). It
then goes into used American oak barrels to age for a minimum of three years. The result is a light and
very clean but by no means flavorless spirit. Depending on the amount of aging and the number of
previous times the barrel has been refilled, this can be a surprisingly rich spirit (a fine example is Wiser’s
Red Letter, pure base whisky aged in a first-fill bourbon barrel for ten years).

The flavoring whiskies. If the base whisky recalls Scotland, the Flavoring whiskies are pure America.
There is a great deal of variation here between distilleries, but the basic products fall into three or four
general categories. There’s rye whiskey, which is either made from 100% rye (some or all of which may
be malted), 90% rye and 10% (roughly) barley malt (as many Pennsylvania and Maryland ryes were
formerly made) or a mashbill like contemporary American ryes, with 5-15 % barley, a portion of corn and
a larger portion of rye. These are distilled to around 65% alcohol, often by running them once through a
column still and another time through a large pot still (that, for instance, is how the flavoring whiskies for
Wiser’s and Corby are made). Then there’s corn whiskey, made from a similar mashbill to an American
bourbon by the same process as the rye. Finally there are wheat and barley whiskies, often single-grain,
also made like the rye.

These flavoring whiskies tend to be lighter and dryer than their American counterparts, where they have
one. Lately, American entrepreneurs have been buying older barrels of Canadian blending rye and
bottling it as rye whiskey, to mixed reviews.

Blending. Canadian distilling companies don’t share blending stock. Each blends with its own products.
For the cheaper blends, a large proportion of base whisky will be combined with one or more flavoring
whiskies. It will be rare for anything in the blend to be older than the minimum. For the more expensive
blends such as the Wiser’s 18, the process can be much more complex, with multiple, well-aged flavoring
whiskies blended together and then mixed with a much smaller portion of base whiskey, also well aged.
While the most common blending profile is to use a large proportion of base whisky with a small amount
of rye whisky for flavoring, there are many other proprietary combinations on the market, often with a
high percentage of flavoring whisky (the law does not regulate base whisky-flavoring whisky ratios in
any way and there is no requirement to use flavoring whisky at all).

Adjustments for the American market. Some bottom-shelf Canadian blends made for the American
market have in the past been blended with up to 9.09% neutral spirits made from American oranges or
wines. This gave the brands substantial tax relief in the US, enabling them to better compete against
American blended whiskeys, which are made of straight whiskeys blended with (cheap) neutral spirits
and not (relatively expensive) base whisky. Only a few distillers took advantage of this provision and
only for their cheapest blends. It’s unclear if they still do. Under the Canadian Food and Drug Act of
1993, which for the first time defined the parameters of Canadian whisky, it may unlike American
bourbon or rye, may contain caramel and flavoring, although that flavoring has to be either a wine or a
distilled spirit aged at least two years in small wood. This means that things such as prune juice, formerly
added, are now forbidden. The regulation does allow blenders to add things like sherry and brandy to their
blends, although they are rarely used and never in large quantity.

The state of the industry. After years of basically ignoring it, Canadian distillers are beginning to pay
attention to the premiumization trend that has brought forth so many great bottlings in Scotland, Ireland,
the United States and Japan. Canadian distilleries, however, are vast and industrial and difficult to visit
and Canadian distillers can be reticent about their products and secretive about their processes. All of that
hinders the flow of information that drives premiumization. Fortunately, with figures such as Don
Livermore, master blender at the Hiram Walker distillery for Wiser’s and Corby’s and Crown Royal’s
master blender Andy Mackay, who are willing to speak out with pride about their products and reach out
to educate journalists, consumers and spirits industry people, we can expect more light cast on this
fascinating, little-known corner of the whisk(e)y world.

Blended Whiskey – North America

You might wonder why we left this category for the end. For this reason: while there are good American
Blended whiskeys, most are intended to imitate Canadian whisky’s blended smoothness, and most are far
less successful at it than Canada. While North American blended whiskey (Seagram’s VO and Seagram’s
7 Crown) remains the largest single category of whiskey sales in the U.S., those numbers have been
falling for years, in favor of whiskeys with more individual character. The rules are pretty loose: additives
are allowed (see Canadian whisky above), and there must be at least 50 percent neutral grain spirit in the
blend. There is always more than that. Trust us.

Principal Whisk(e)y Cocktails

• Rob Roy (Scotch)
• Blood & Sand (Scotch)
• Hot Toddy/Whiskey (any whisky/whiskey)
• Scotch Highball (Scotch)
• Irish Coffee (Irish)
• Blackthorn (Irish)
• Manhattan (Bourbon/Rye)
• Old-Fashioned (Bourbon)
• Whiskey Sour (Bourbon)
• Sazerac (Rye)
• Highball (Bourbon/Rye)

Tasting Whisk(e)y
As usual, the best way to find flavor and identify differences is to put several whiskeys next to each other.
If you taste a Scotch next to a bourbon, or a bourbon next to a Canadian, or an Irish next to a Scotch, it’s a
heck of a lot easier to figure out how they differ than if you just drink one at a time and wonder.

So we’ll try it in our instructive flight. And once you’ve settled on those differences, put a few island
whiskies next to some inland whiskies. Or place a higher-proof single-barrel bourbon up against a more
common whiskey and see what makes each one tick. Again, it’s a lot easier to spot flavors when there are
identifiable differences between each whisky or whiskey in front of you.

You’ll taste them to see if they are:

• Clean, dirty or hot
• Dry, salty, tangy or slightly sweet
• Smooth, spicy or aggressive
• Gentle, powerful, briny or earthy
• Fruity, floral, vegetal and/or herbal
• Rich or thin
• Soft, sharp or burning

It should be clean and dry and not bitter and not sweet.

Tasting flight #6 – Ireland & Scotland

#1 Jameson 12 – medium-bodied, crisp, fruity, floral
#2 Bushmills Black Bush – balanced, grainy, breakfast cereal-like
#3 Redbreast 12 – rich aroma, butterscotch, toffee, oak
#4 Chivas Regal 18 – balanced, smooth, substantial, classical
#5 Glenfiddich 12 – light, floral, some spice
#6 The Glenlivet 18 – deep in flavor, oily, marshmallow, toffee

2.45 Tasting flight #7 – North America

#1 Jack Daniel’s – harsh, thin, grainy
#2 Jim Beam White Label – sweet corn, popcorn, wood resin
#3 Four Roses Yellow Label Bourbon – corn-forward, spice, vanilla, oak
#4 Templeton Rye – full nose, pickle brine, oak, spice
#5 Lot 40 – caramel, spice, white chocolate, baked apple
#6 Pike Creek – baked apple, spice, graham cracker

Brandy –What
The term “brandy” is derived from the Dutch word for “burnt wine,” brandiwijn. Simply put, brandy is
wine that has been distilled into a spirit and then aged in barrels. But, with centuries of human toil beside
the still, brandy is a many-splendored thing. Brandy might be a very special old spirit, aged for decades in
a place called Cognac, in western, coastal France. It might be a clear spirit often made from Muscat
grapes in Peru near a seaside town called Pisco. It might be a clear distillate, called “eau de vie” (that’s
“water of life”, if you’ve been paying attention, or even if you haven’t), made from raspberries, pears or
cherries produced in Central and Western Europe.

Additionally, in the U.S. and some other countries, the word brandy can be used to describe a low-proof,
sweetened and flavored spirit, often based upon neutral grain spirit and artificial flavoring—for example,
“cherry brandy” or “apricot brandy” (historically, these would have had a brandy base).

But for this module, we’ll focus on the good stuff. Moreover, we’ll break them all into two rough groups:
unaged grape spirits and aged grape spirits. Unaged grape spirits include eaux-de-vie, grappa and marc
(more about those below).

Aged grape spirits include the basic category we call brandy, referring to a distilled wine that has been
aged in oak for a specified time, usually at least six months or longer. These matured kinds include
cognac (an area in central western France), armagnac (Gascony is another area in southwestern France)
and calvados. Calvados is yet another area in France (Normandy in the northwest), but this one doesn’t
use grapes to make its wine; it uses apples with a few pears thrown in for good measure.

Brandy – How
If you can ferment wine and boil it, you can make brandy, and perhaps some old-school grappas may
remind some people of a drink that is that basic. But a smart distiller knows that the grapes or the juice
from which a brandy is made has to be in great shape.
Unaged (Usually) International Wine Distillates
Grappa –What
Grappa used to be hot, fiery stuff; we will admit that. But a few decades ago, a handful of smart distillers
began producing high quality, delicious grappa, because they were careful with the grapes they used. In
the past, grappa was something you distilled from “pomace,” which is the leftovers of winemaking. Most
grappa distillers took grapes that had been dumped out of a fermenter after their juice had been made into
wine, sprayed some water on them and threw the gooey mess—often with stems, seeds and all—into a
still, usually after a couple of months of other sundry winery work. It’s not surprising that old-style
grappa was coarse and weird.

But a dynamic group of innovative distillers—Jacopo Poli, Antonella Bocchino, and Benito and Giannola
Nonino come to mind—studied every aspect of grappa production in the 1970s to see if they could
improve grappa production. The most important innovation they introduced was to rush the grape skins
into the still as soon as they were removed from the fermenter. This change of tactic makes all the
difference in the world; it produces grappas that taste remarkable fresh. And like skillful distillers the
world over, they also carefully cut heads and tails, reserving the heart for bottling. The top grappas are
expensive, it is true, but they are difficult and expensive to make correctly. This new generation of grappa
producers has turned this once-ridiculed spirit into a world-class distillate category.

Pisco –What
As mentioned above, pisco is a distillate made from grapes and made in Chile or Peru. Each country has
its own set of grapes from which they ferment wine and then distill pisco, but Peru definitely has the
historical lead and a heck of a lot more material (different kinds of grapes) from which to distill.
Peruvians also prefer the pot still while the Chileans lean toward continuous-still distillation. Pisco is far
smoother than most grappas, because it is almost always made from distilled wine, and not from distilled
grape-pomace.

Marc –What
Marc is a French spirit, a kind of grappa or pomace brandy made from leftover grapes and grape skins,
only this time it’s made in France, much of it in the Burgundy region. There are other names the French
use; ratafia is a common grappa-like spirit made in the Champagne region.

Aged Wine distillates, France: Cognac, Armagnac and Calvados

Cognac –What
Cognac is a wine based brandy, made from Ugni Blanc grapes (there are very few other grape types
grown in Cognac), twice distilled only in pot stills (a.k.a. alembic Charentais) and aged in Limousin
(French) oak barrels for a minimum of two years. Even more importantly, Cognac is a place, where all
these grapes must be grown and where this brandy must be aged. Cognac’s six demarcated growing
districts are, in order of importance, Grande Champagne, Petite Champagne, Borderies, Fins Bois, Bons
Bois and Bois à Terroirs. The two Champagnes are renowned for their chalky/limestone soil and account
for what are the two longest-lived types of cognac, brandies that are especially deep and flavorful.

The Ugni Blanc grape might be unfamiliar to you, but it’s Italy’s most widely grown grape, Trebbiano. It
doesn’t have much flavor (try a Trebbiano from Italy and you’ll see what we mean) but it hangs on to its
acidity and even after distillation can hang on to its fruit flavors. Indeed the chalky, limestone soils of the
Cognac region are such that the brandies made from Cognac’s grapes continue to show fruitiness even
after decades in bottle. Though there are lots of reasons why cognac can be truly great, the limestone soils
are the chief reason that cognac ages so remarkably well.
Cognac, like many things having to do with the vine, can get really complicated when it comes to legal
classifications. But remember that the main reason French wine (and cognac) has so many rules,
regulations and titles is to make a consistent, trustworthy product and then to convince someone that it’s
worth paying a lot of money for that. So a category of cognac such as XO, which stands for Extra Old, is
controlled to the extent that customers around the world like to believe that any XO cognac they see is old
and venerable. Sometimes it’s even true.

The categories of cognac are VS (Very Special) or Three Star (aged at least two years in French oak
barrels); VSOP (Very Superior Old Pale) or Five Star (aged at least four years in French oak barrels); and
XO (Extra Old), Napoleon, Extra and Hors d’Age. This latter group has been aged in French oak barrels
for at least six years.

Isn’t it funny that they use English words (Very Special and the like) to name these very French brandies?
Yeah, well, they know exactly to whom they are selling.

Armagnac –What
The balmy, rural and hilly Armagnac district (a.k.a. Gascogne) is southeast of Bordeaux. The
Armagnaçais make their brandies differently than their peers in Cognac do, preferring to employ unique,
hybrid two-column stills, some of which are attached to flatbeds and driven around the countryside by so-
called “roving distillers.” Distillation range is from 52-72 percent alcohol by volume. Some smaller
producers use pot stills only, while others use a combination of both styles of stills.

They mostly use the prolific-growing, thick-canopied Ugni Blanc grape variety, along with far lesser
amounts of Folle Blanche, Colombard and Baco. And they have minimum aging requirements in French
oak barrels (black oak from the Monlezun forest), just like they do in Cognac. However, there are both
continuous and pot stills in use in Armagnac, and many armagnac bottlings can seem a bit more rustic
(and some would say interesting) than run-of- the-mill cognac.

Some commercial armagnacs are made in similar fashion to cognac. Most are not, and these tend to be the
more expensive versions. They can be a more herbal, a little citrusy and a lot less smooth than great
cognac. But some people think smooth is boring.

As with cognac, Armagnac has minimum aging requirements: for them, VS (Very Special) or Three Star
is aged at least two years in French oak barrels; VSOP (Very Superior Old Pale) or Five Star is aged at
least five years in French oak barrels); and XO (Extra Old), Napoleon or Extra is aged at least six years in
French oak. Hors d’Age Armagnac is a special category in Armagnac: it has slumbered in French oak
barrels for at least ten years. As with cognac, the best producers exceed these minimum aging
requirements by many years.

One last note: don’t be fooled by people who tell you that the oldest armagnac (or cognac, for that matter)
is the best. It depends upon your taste, and frankly, it depends upon the brandy. Some brandies taste
wonderful when they’ve slept for twelve or fifteen years in a barrel. Some need twenty years to come to
the loveliest balance of the fruit in the spirit and the spice and confection that comes from the barrel and
the aging. Others break down chemically with excessive barrel aging. Just because it’s expensive and old
doesn’t automatically mean that it’s legendary.

Calvados –What
Calvados, from northwest France, shares much of the same aging nomenclature: Fine, Three Star or
Original Calvados must be aged in French oak casks for at least two years. Vieux or Réserve Calvados are
aged in French oak casks for at least three years. Vieux Réserve, VO or VSOP Calvados are aged in
French oak casks for at least four years. And the special categories of Hors d’Age, Extra, XO or Age
Inconnu are aged in French oak casks for a minimum of six years.

Cognac, Armagnac, Calvados – Where

While most brandies could come from anywhere that grapes are grown and wine is made, the top brandies
such as cognac, armagnac and calvados don’t seem to be vulnerable to imitation. There seems to be
something unique that each region brings to the brandy they make, and each region prizes certain sub-
zones far above others, though each is a part of the protected names embodied in the words cognac,
armagnac and calvados.

Cognac is divided into six sub-zones, called Bois à Terroirs, Bons Bois, Fins Bois, Borderies, Petite
Champagne and Grand Champagne. Other than a small strip of land in the Fins Bois, the best cognacs are
produced in the latter three regions, where the limestone is the oldest and the chalk content is the highest.

Most cognac labels won’t list any particular region, but some do, and perhaps it indicates that the
producer is rather proud of that cognac and where the grapes used to make it were grown. Many believe
that Borderies provides a fat and even nutty character to cognac, while the longest-lived cognacs are
grown in Grande Champagne, where the soil with the greatest content of chalk is found. If a district is
cited on the label, the brandy must be 100 percent from that district.

But most cognacs are blends, skillful combinations of both greater and lesser regions. There is also a
category called Fine Champagne or Grande Fine Champagne, and it represents a blend of Petite
Champagne and Grande Champagne cognacs, with a minimum of 50 percent of the spirit
coming from Grande Champagne.

Armagnac has three demarcated production zones: Bas-Armagnac, which has clay and alluvial soils;
Ténarèze, where the soil is a mix of clay and limestone; and Haut-Armagnac, which has more sand and
limestone. Most people think the best armagnacs are grown in Bas-Armagnac because of their freshness
and vivacity, but a lot of people love Ténarèze just as much because of their ability to mature for long
periods.

Calvados hails from the northwestern portion of France in beautiful Normandy and Brittany. Grapes don’t
grow well in this cooler, even colder, seaside landscape but apples and pears do. Indeed there are dozens
of species of each, and many distillers believe that it’s the myriad of species that make it possible to
create a great apple-based brandy in this place.

Again, they have broken the area into sub-zones, with Pays d’Auge considered the best area of Normandy
and of Calvados’ demarcated areas. Pays d’Auge is an area that requires that the calvados there be
distilled twice only in pot stills. The other two districts are Calvados AOC, the
largest, all-encompassing region and the one with the least exciting brandies, and Calvados Domfrontais,
where both apple and pear ciders (minimum of 30 percent pears) are distilled.

Cognac, Armagnac, Calvados – When

The Armagnaçais have gotten a raw deal. They preceded Cognac’s practice of distilling by a couple of
centuries (probably the 1300s A.D.) and yet their sales represent a fraction of the sales of cognac
worldwide. Sometimes being first isn’t good enough.

Armagnac is a rural, heavily agricultural, and isolated place, while Cognac was the part of France that
was owned by England for five hundred years. During that time, the British took feverishly to cognac, the
brandy. Their turn as a world-dominant, nineteenth century power (it wasn’t so long ago that the phrase
“the sun never sets upon the British Empire” was rampant because that empire encompassed the globe)
meant that they shared their enthusiasm for the spirit with everybody else.

Armagnac is the product of a part of France that has been, at times, Basque country. The Basque people
are a fascinating breed. Some historians postulate that they are, in fact, a separate strain of human
species. Regardless, the Basque regions of France and Spain have customarily been isolationist, if not
actively hostile to outsiders for millennia.

Cognac, on the other hand, didn’t practice distilling until the late sixteenth century, but within forty or
fifty years was widely acclaimed for its great brandies and, ever since, for its great brandy marketing. The
Cognaçais were quick to protect the name (lots of countries created imitation products called “conyac”
and the like) and even quicker to understand that they needed to create a worldwide image of exclusivity
and excellence in order to build a long-term market. It would be hard to fault their work, since many
linguists consider “cognac” to be the most recognized French word around the world.

Things went along swimmingly until the arrival of the vine-eating phylloxera louse into Europe’s
vineyards in the 1860s. The North American bug destroyed nearly all of Europe’s grape vines by 1880
and the remedy (grafting American vine stock onto established European vines) was difficult, labor-
intensive and expensive, taking years to achieve. Meanwhile, whisky and gin took hold. As Winston
Churchill once said, “My father drank brandy and soda. I drink whisky and soda.” The impact upon the
brandy regions of France was huge. They grafted over to American stock as soon as they could, but many
vineyard owners never recovered.

They eventually recovered, even in the midst of world wars. While whisky sales remain the largest
category of aged spirit sales, and vodka and soju (see glossary) remain the world’s largest spirit
categories, nobody is starving in Cognac, at least not among the growers and distillers. Indeed, the
running joke is that the rich folks and owners in Cognac all drive Mercedes and Jaguars. Everybody else
has to make do with lowly BMWs or Peugeots.

Principal Brandy Cocktails

• Sidecar
• Stinger
• Alexander
• Brandy Sour
• Pisco Sour

Tasting Brandy
Once you reach the pinnacle of brandies (great XO cognacs, armagnacs or calvados or even some Spanish
and American brandies), everything becomes a bit more difficult to distinguish. But that’s a good thing. If
spirits are so delicious and complex that you aren’t sure which one to love more, then you are a lucky
taster indeed.

But let’s start with the basics: what makes armagnac, cognac and calvados taste different from each
other? Cognac is usually smooth and refined, while armagnac is robust and assertive, and calvados is,
well, apple-like and should be the easiest to identify. And what makes an XO cognac so expensive and a
VS cognac so (relatively) cheap? The answer is the time spent in oak barrels, which costs the distiller
more in tax and labor. Sensory evaluation-wise, it’s a lot easier to spot flavors when there are identifiable
differences between each of the brandies in front of you.
You’ll taste them to see if they are:
• Clean, dirty or hot
• Dry, salty, tangy or slightly sweet
• Smooth, spicy or aggressive
• Gentle, powerful, briny or earthy
• Fruity, floral, vegetal and/or herbal
• Rich or thin
• Soft, sharp or burning

It should be clean and dry and not bitter and not sweet.

Tasting Flight #8 – Brandy

#1 Daron Calvados Fine Pays d’Auge – aged apple aroma, hazelnut, medium finish, clove
#2 Courvoisier VSOP – light and floral, pears and grape on the palate
#3 Pierre Ferrand 1840 Original Formula – deep aroma, spice, nuttiness, butterscotch
#4 Martell Cordon Bleu – deep, full-bodied, floral, grapey
#5 Hine XO – golden raisin, epic finish, full-bodied, toasted hazelnut
#6 Montesquiou XO Armagnac – rich, multilayered, prune-like

Liqueurs –What
Liqueurs/cordials are defined as alcoholic beverages of a spirits base and made of grain, grape, fruit, or
vegetable that are flavored with:

•   Botanicals such as herbs, barks, seeds, roots, plants

•   Fresh and dried fruits
•   Dairy products, including butter, cream and milk
•   Honey
•   Spices like cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, pepper, coriander
•   Beans including cocoa, coffee, vanilla

Liqueurs – How
There are four methods for flavoring a spirit, none of which have changed in last four or five hundred
years.

•   Compounding – a supplement made of a sugar solution combined with concentrated flavorings is

added to the base alcohol.
•   Infusion – a liquid is steeped with the flavorings (fruits and/or herbs) prior to distillation. The
resultant drink will probably be fairly light in flavoring aromas.
•   Percolation – flavorings enclosed in a screen or net are placed inside the still to flavor the
distillate as it passes through. This process can capture very intense or very ethereal aromas and
flavors.
•   Maceration – a distilled spirit steeps with the flavorings for a period of time, often weeks. This
may not capture more delicate aromas but will certainly contain the strong and often bitter flavors
of a fruit or herb.

Liqueurs –Where
Liqueurs are made in any nation that produces beverage alcohol. They have existed for at least six
centuries. History’s first liqueurs were made in Europe to combat intestinal problems like dyspepsia, or
difficult digestion. Particular liqueurs made of special combinations of roots, barks, grasses, plants, seeds
(caraway, aniseed) and herbs (mint, sage, rosemary) have been long known to aid digestion, which is why
liqueurs are typically served in postprandial situations. Other common ingredients in liqueurs, such as
honey and cream, likewise assist in processing foodstuffs through the intestines and colon.

Fruit and Nut-Based Liqueurs

Note: in the United States, a fruit “brandy” is generally in fact a fruit liqueur consisting of heavily
sweetened and flavored grape brandy.
•   Amaretto (Italy): originally from Italy, this almond-flavored liqueur gains its flavor from apricot
stones, though some utilize almonds as well.
•   Apricot Brandy: most cordial producers offer a version of this sweet liqueur.
•   Blackberry Brandy: most cordial producers offer a version of this sweet liqueur.
•   Cherry Brandy: most cordial producers offer a version of this sweet liqueur.
•   Coconut Liqueur: most cordial producers offer a version of this sweet liqueur.
•   Cointreau: a proprietary (and premium) version of triple sec, based on Curaçao oranges.
•   Curaçao: a historically important liqueur flavored with bitter-orange peels. The artificially
colored versions were introduced in the 1930s.
•   Crème de Banane: sweet banana-flavored liqueur.
•   Crème de Cassis: flavored by blackcurrants, originally from south of France and the base for a
Kir or Kir Royale.
•   Crème de Noyaux: flavored by apricot, peach or other fruit stones, with an almond flavor.
•   Frangelico: hazelnuts and herbs provide the base for this.
•   Grand Marnier: a proprietary (and premium) version of orange curaçao, based on cognac.
•   Mandarine: flavored with Mandarine tangerines, brandy or Cognac-based.
•   Maraschino: the flavor of the flesh, pits and even stems and leaves of Marasca cherries from
Dalmatia and north-eastern Italy.
•   Metaxa: a Greek grape brandy that has been sweetened and to which herbs are added.
•   Midori: a Japanese melon-flavored cordial.
•   Peach Schnapps: common and popular version of schnapps.
•   Rock and Rye: Rye whiskey with rock candy and fruit flavors added.
•   Sloe Gin: sloe berries from Blackthorn bushes, otherwise known as sloe plums, provide the flavor
for this once-popular spirit. Plymouth Sloe Gin is a quintessential example.
•   Southern Comfort: a proprietary cane spirit blended with peach liqueur.
•   Triple Sec: a clear, higher-proof version of curaçao; see Cointreau.

Herb, Coffee and Cream-Based Liqueurs

•   Akvavit or Akavit: a caraway seed-flavored spirit.
•   Anisette: flavored with anise seed.
•   Benedictine DOM: a brandy-based cordial flavored with twenty seven herbs and spices, and
created in the early sixteenth century in France.
•   Benedictine & Brandy: Benedictine blended with brandy.
•   Chartreuse: an ancient cordial flavored with over a hundred herbs, fruits and spices. The VEP
green version at 110 proof is very potent. The milder Yellow is 80proof.
•   Chocolate-Suisse: chocolate-based liqueur.
•   Crème de Cacao: flavored with cocoa beans and vanilla.
•   Crème de menthe: available in green or white versions, flavored by mint plants, usually
peppermint.
•   Drambuie: a Scotch-based liqueur with heather and honey.
•   Galliano: a sweetish cordial flavored with herbs and spices.
•   Goldwasser: caraway and anise with floating flakes of gold.
 •   Irish Cream: the pioneer of the cream liqueur category; Irish whiskey mixed with sweetened,
stabilized heavy cream.
•   Irish Mist: Irish whiskey flavored with honey and herbs.
•   Kahlua: a rum and coffee liqueur made from 100% Arabica coffee beans.
•   Kümmel: a caraway-based liqueur; an Eastern European specialty with a good deal of history.
•   Ouzo: anise-based and sweet, Greek liqueur.
•   Peppermint Schnapps: very common peppermint-based cordial.
•   Sambuca: elder bush is often used to give this anise-like flavor, although the distillate can be
made from aniseed.
•   Strega: flavored with many herbs and spices.
•   Tia Maria: coffee-flavored liqueur based upon rum.

Bitter Liqueurs (Aperitifs and Digestifs)

In general, these come in two kinds: aperitivi (in France, apéritifs) “openers,” which are lower-proof and
meant to be taken before a meal to stimulate the gastric juices, and digestivi/digestifs, “digestives,” which
are higher in proof and follow a meal to help everything digest properly. The bitterness usually comes
from the use of quinine, which serves an additional anti-malarial function. As the category names imply,
they are a particular specialty of Italy and France, although Central Europe makes a fair number as well.

•   Amaro/Amari: Amaro, Amer and Amargo are respectively the Italian, French and Spanish words
for “bitter.” This traditional category reaches back to the beginnings of distillation and therefore
to the creation of healthful, even magical medicines through alcohol’s ability to extract and
preserve the vital essences of plants. Most of these bitters still boast of their histories as folk
medicines. Italy, in particular, is rich in these amari. Indeed, it seems like every town on the
Italian peninsula makes its own type. Amari may be either aperitivi or digestivi. Typically, they
are produced by macerating herbs, roots, flowers, bark, and/or citrus peels directly in the alcohol.
This mixture is then allowed to age in casks or bottles.
•   Amer Picon (France) – herb-based aperitif with bitter orange notes.
•   Becherovka (Czech Republic) – bitter herbal golden-amber-colored liqueur with notes of clove,
cinnamon, and ginger; produced according to a secret recipe since 1807 and currently enjoying a
resurgence among craft bartenders.
•   Campari (Italy) – red, bittersweet Italian aperitivo without which a Negroni cannot be made.
•   Fernet Branca (Italy) – a digestivo with a cult following among American bartenders
•   Jägermeister (Germany) – an herb-based digestif.
•   Lillet (France) – a lightly-quinined aperitif with notes of orange; comes in a delicate white and a
more robust red.
•   Malnais Balzams (Latvia) – herb based bitters.
•   Vermouths and Aromatized Wines – Vermouths are a special category of aperitifs. The word
vermouth comes from the German “Wermut”, for wormwood. In most cases, aromatic wines are
fortified with grain or grape spirit. The Italian-style vermouths were traditionally sweet and red
(the color comes from the botanicals, not the wine, which is white) but in 1800 Joseph Noilly of
France, introduced a new, dryer style of vermouth that was white. Although Italian and French
vermouth differ slightly, the basic formula consists of a base wine that is mixed with mistelle
(sweetened grape juice and brandy) and flavored with herbs, roots, bark, and flowers. The
manufacturing process is fairly complex. Herbs and flavors are steeped in the base wine and in
the brandy. After steeping, the wine, mistelle and brandy are blended mechanically in large vats.
The mixture is then pasteurized and then refrigerated for two weeks to allow impurities to
crystallize, then filtered and bottled.
Anise Liqueurs and Absinthe
Absinthe, the anise-flavored spirit, was first made in Switzerland in the mid-eighteenth century. Among
the first commercially produced anise-flavored spirits, absinthe was made with oil extracted from
wormwood leaves. Wormwood belongs to the same plant family as tarragon and mugwort, and contains a
powerful substance called thujone, about which a great deal of misinformation has been printed.

The German word for wormwood is wermut, and early vermouths contained the thujone-producing
wormwood. After several well publicized drunken murders, absinthe was made illegal in most countries,
and vermouth producers quietly discontinued the use of wormwood. Absinthe was one of the most
popular distilled spirits in the late nineteenth century, both drunk on its own or dashed into cocktails. At
the beginning of the twentieth century, however, concerns about its high alcohol content and “toxic”
thujone (not in fact present in any quantity in most well-made absinthes) led it to be banned in the United
States and most European countries.

In the first decade of the twenty-first century, global prohibitions against absinthe began to collapse.
Since it was legal in some parts of the E.U., it was difficult to prohibit in others. The U.S. ban on absinthe
was lifted in October of 2007. This loosening of restrictions has meant that
brands are now flooding into the market, including one of the originals, Pernod Absinthe.

Sherry ( Jerez/Xeres)
From its earliest days, Sherry (or Jerez) has had a significant role in the world of cocktails. Coming from
the beautiful region of Andalucia in the southern tip of Spain, Jerez is a fortified wine produced from
three types of vinifera grapes. Palomino, the most important variety, is a white grape that is fermented to
be bone dry and is utilized as the base for virtually all types of Sherry. The Pedro Ximenez and Moscatel
grapes are both harvested late and arrested during fermentation to lock in their rich sweetness. These two
varieties are added to dry Sherry to make it sweet.

The wines are fortified with low alcohol grape brandy before being blended in the Solera method of
aging. This process creates several differing styles of Sherry, ranging from light, crisp and very dry to
dark rich and as sweet as wine can be. Sherry, no matter dry or sweet, retains high levels of acidity due to
the climate and the Albariza (high-calcium) soil that exists in the vineyards of Jerez.

Sherry’s styles include:

•   Fino and Manzanilla: Fortified to develop a thick layer of flor, a naturally occurring layer of yeast
that protects the wine from oxidation during aging. These wines are very light in body and high in
crisp acidity.
•   Amontillado: Allowed to undergo some oxidation, this style of Sherry is light and nutty with
dried fruit and nut flavors. It is fuller-bodied and darker in color than Fino, yet is still dry on the
palate.
•   Oloroso: Spending most of its time aging without the protection of flor, Oloroso develops a
flavorful, fruit-driven style. Oloroso has several incarnations, some of which have no sweetness at
all. The rich nature of the wines, however, makes them delicious when blended with wines from
the Pedro Ximenez or Moscatel Soleras. Check the labeling to determine whether it is a dry or a
sweet Oloroso.
•   Palo Cortado: This rare variety is defined as having the qualities of both Amontillado and
Oloroso. Palo Cortado is a unique style that has similarities to both. Always special, these wines
are identified by their unique development within an individual Solera.
•   Dessert Styles: Whether Oloroso blended with a percentage of Pedro Ximenez and/or Moscatel,
or those same grapes bottled on their own, you will find a range of dessert styles of Sherry from
slightly sweet to deeply sugary with unctuous flavors of figs and dates.
Sherry has always been successful in cocktails. The Sherry Cobbler was one of the first and most popular.
Today, Sherry has been reinserted into the world of mixology with varying styles being stirred in to
accompany or replace vermouths and bitters, and shaken in to utilize the numerous flavor profile.
Bartenders have rediscovered that the acidity, body and varying tastes that exist within the category make
Sherry a versatile addition and enhance their ability to create exciting drinks for their guests.

The Rest of the World

We are the fortunate generation in which a Golden Age of Spirits is thriving and expanding, year by year.
There exist hundreds of outlander spirits, both arcane and obvious, that help to make this era a boom time
for bartenders and admirers of distilled spirits. Many of the arcane spirits stretch the conventional
categories, while others enhance the existing mainstream categories. Craft distilling is at an all-time high,
and these intriguing experiments alone account for many of the most interesting spirits available at the
present time, spirits that cut new paths in the domain of distillates. The bottom line is this: mixology has
rarely experienced a period with such an abundance of flavor possibilities. Go forth and mix profusely but
with care.
Module 3 - Cocktail History & Bar Essentials Basics
Cocktail Prehistory, up to A.D. 1800
In 700 B.C., when guests at the funeral of King Midas of Phrygia (in what is modern Turkey) were served
a mixture of wine, mead—fermented honey-water—and barley beer, the mixed drink was already ancient.
Since the dawn of history, people have been taking one liquid and another liquid and asking themselves
“what happens if I mix this with this?”

Some of their early experiments sound odd to the modern ear. In Homer’s Iliad, for instance, we find his
epic heroes at one point drinking Pramnian wine mixed with grated goat cheese and barley meal. Hardly
our idea of a cocktail, although stranger things have been labeled as such (the Cement Mixer, anyone?). In
general, though, it’s safe to say that the bulk of ancient drinking was far more conservative: strong wine
and water, beer or mead straight — salt-of-the-earth stuff like that.

The spread of distilling in the late Middle Ages added new drive to the art of mixology. Distilled spirits
were strong and fiery and (since long aging in oak was a thing of the future) pretty raw. Various ways of
cooling their heat were tried — flavoring them with pungent herbs and heavily sweetening them, mixing
them with wine, with beer, with water or even filtering them.

The first true triumph of the art of taming spirits didn’t occur until the early seventeenth century, in India.
“Punch,” which is supposedly derived from “panch,” the Farsi and Hindi word for “five,” is traditionally
made with five elements [liquor, sugar of some sort, citrus juice, tea (or other spice) and water]. We don’t
know if it was a native Indian drink or, as the evidence suggests is far more likely, one that sailors and
merchants associated with the English East India Company put together themselves from Indian
ingredients (as early as the 1570s, the Elizabethan writer George Gascoyne had observed his countrymen
drinking their wine mixed with sugar, spices and lemon juice; the substitution of local firewater cut with
H2O in place of the unavailable wine would’ve been a natural one).

In any case, by the end of the seventeenth century a bowl of Punch was one of the most popular tipples in
England and its colonies. Usually, this was served hot, the English climate being the English climate. But
punch is versatile; when necessary, boiling water was replaced with ice (when that then-precious
commodity was available) or at least cool water. Now, the alert student of mixology will note that aside
from being made by the bowl instead of by the glass, this punch stuff resembles a modern cocktail, like
the Daiquiri, the Margarita or the Cosmopolitan. Indeed, in the hands of James Ashley, who kept a
famous Punch-house on Ludgate Hill in London from 1731 until his death in 1776, it was even closer to
those drinks than you might imagine, since he sold it in quantities as small as a single cup. Ashley, by the
way, was the world’s first celebrity
mixologist.

By the first decades of the nineteenth century, the best punchmakers— not just Englishmen at this point,
but English women as well, and men and women from Scotland, Ireland, Paris (a particular hotbed of
Punch innovation), Germany and, of course, the former British colonies across the Atlantic—had picked
up a host of tricks with which to improve (or “improve”) the simple beverage of the East India Company:
supplementing the sugar with flavored syrups or liqueurs, smoothing things out by adding emulsifiers
such as gum Arabic, maidenhair fern, egg whites or milk (which was generally allowed to curdle, with the
solids being strained out), replacing the water with tea or wine or even champagne, deploying carefully-
calibrated combinations of base spirits, so on and so forth. Indeed, it would be no large exaggeration to
say that all the building blocks of mixology as we understand it now were basically in place by 1800.
Punch Today
David Wondrich quotes a popular eighteenth century song in his book, Punch:

You may talk of brisk Claret, sing praises of Sherry

Speak well of old Hock, Mum, Cider, and Perry
But you must drink Punch if you want to be Merry

Now, I don’t personally know what “hock” or “mum” tastes like, but I can tell you from experience that a
bowl of punch is delicious and leads to general merriment. The popularity of punch is on the upswing
everywhere. The reasons for this are myriad. One: once you have all your ingredients together, it’s pretty
easy to assemble. Two: it’s an adaptable template that curious bartenders can experiment on. Three: it
tastes really, really good. But there is another compelling reason for a bartender to think of including a
punch (or several), at their bar.

Picture this scenario: It’s Friday night, eleven o’clock pm, it’s wall-to-wall people, and you’re slammed.
In through the door comes a party of eight. They make their way to the bar, look at the drink list, and
order two Manhattans, (one up, one on the rocks), a Dirty Martini, a Gin Martini with a twist, a Margarita,
Sidecar, and a couple Vodka Sodas. But one of them doesn’t like the Martini as dirty as you made it, so
by the time you’re done with the other drinks, you’re making that one over. And then another person
drank their Vodka Soda really quickly and wants a refill by the time you finished remaking that Martini.
And the tickets are piling up in the service well, and people are starting to wave their hands around in the
air, and you don’t have any more clean highballs and you want to sink through the floor and end up
somewhere far, far away.

Or: it’s Friday night, eleven o’clock pm, it’s wall-to-wall people, and you’re slammed. In through the
door comes a party of eight. They make their way to the bar, look at the drink list and order a bowl of
Spread Eagle Punch. Out comes the punch bowl, in goes the ice and the punch you’ve prepared pre- shift,
and away go eight happy people who will take quite a bit of time to make their way through the bowl,
saving you time, effort, and glassware woes. Punch is a fantastically social beverage that through its
communal nature brings the company drinking it into closer bonds of conviviality over the course of its
draining. It can be made at the beginning of the shift and doled out in portions for a small party of two to
a party as large as the punch bowl will allow. Below are two classic recipes from David Wondrich’s
fascinating and useful book, Punch. Try one out at your bar and see if you might not get a few people
singing the Punch song.

Hot Whiskey Punch, (Irish and Scottish)

Peel a lemon, trying to get as little as possible of the white pith. In a heatproof bowl, pot or jug, muddle
the peel of the lemon in 2 oz. of sugar. Set a quart and a half of water to boil. Add about 8 oz. of the
boiling water to the sugar and stir well. This should warm up the bowl and dissolve the sugar. Add a 750
ml bottle of whiskey, either Jameson for Irish Punch or The Glenlivet for Scottish Punch, then add the
rest of the water, tasting as you go to make sure that it does not become too diluted. The Punch should be
kept warm for service; a slow cooker or a heatproof bowl on a hot plate should do the trick. Yield: 9 cups

Brandy Punch
Peel 4 lemons, trying to get as little as possible of the white pith. Muddle the peels in one cup of fine-
grained raw sugar, such as Florida Crystals. After the lemon oil has been extracted by the sugar (this
process generally takes half an hour to an hour), muddle again and remove the skins. Add 8 oz. of lemon
juice and stir until the sugar is dissolved. Add one quart Martell VS and two quarts cool water. Grate
some fresh nutmeg on top. Yield: 9 cups
The Rise of the Cocktail, 1800-1885
In the four decades or so after the Revolutionary War, Americans went on a national bender of
spectacular proportions. By one estimate, per capita consumption was three times what it is today. Free
from the continual coming and going between England and the other colonies, they also began drinking
differently. Sure, plenty of punch was still consumed, particularly in the cities where the ingredients were
easier to get. But suddenly it was rubbing elbows in the barrooms with a profusion of oddly named
compounds that few Englishmen would recognize: Anti-Fogmatics, Gum-Ticklers, Phlegm-Cutters, Egg
Noggs, Flips, Juleps, Toddies, Slings and, destined to become mightiest of them all, Cocktails.

The written record of the American cocktail begins with a humorous item in the April 28, 1803 issue of
the Farmer’s Cabinet, a newspaper published in Amherst, New Hampshire, which includes the line
“Drank a glass of cocktail—excellent for the head.” Three years later, a well-worn quotation from the
Hudson, New York, Balance, and Columbian Repository gives us the first definition of what this
compound actually is: “a stimulating liquor, composed of spirits of any kind, sugar, water, and bitters—it
is vulgarly called bittered sling”. (“Sling” was a popular American drink calling for nothing more than
liquor and water, sometimes with a little sugar.) In other words, take an Old-Fashioned, leave out the
garnish and the fruit, let the ice melt and there you go (why do you think they call it an Old-Fashioned,
anyway?).

We’re not sure precisely where this useful beverage was invented, but it’s highly significant that in the
early eighteenth century something very much like it was in common use in Britain as a hangover-cure (it
was being so advertised in London newspapers in 1710) and even more significant that a passing mention
of a drink called “cocktail” appears in a 1798 London newspaper, although with no description of what
precisely it might be. But in its perfected form, the Cocktail was most assuredly American, and most
likely a product of the triangular area between New York City, Albany and Boston. That, at least, is
where all the earliest references turn up.

As for the name cocktail, there are at least half a dozen theories out there attempting to explain it, some
patently ridiculous and not one with any firm documentary evidence to back it up. The ones that do the
least damage to common sense are that it’s either something to “cock your tail up” in the morning or that
it comes from the world of horse racing (if you liked racing, you probably liked mixed drinks as well). At
the time, a mixed-breed horse was known as a “cock-tail” horse; if you took a Gin Sling—one kind of
drink—and splashed some bitters into it—another kind of drink (bitters were often drunk straight at the
time)—what were you going to call it? Exactly.

At any rate, the cocktail’s first role appears to have been medicinal. It was a morning dram, taken to settle
the stomach and soothe the nerves after a night of hearty tippling. Slowly, its therapeutic functions began
to yield to more purely recreational ones and, at the same time, it gained its most important ingredient:
ice. The ice industry was perfected in America (large blocks of the stuff were cut from ponds in the winter
and stored in insulated bunkers through the summer), and ice was cheaper there than anywhere else in the
world. In London, Paris and Rome, it was a luxury; in Boston, New York and Philadelphia, a staple. By
the 1850s, in America it was universally used in mixed drinks.

Of course, the Cocktail was only one of the new “American Sensations” that revolutionized the
mixologist’s art in the first half of the nineteenth century. There was also the Mint Julep or—to give it its
true mixological name— the Mint Sling (“julep” was a medical term for a medicine administered in
syrup; Americans humorously applied it to a Sling spiced with mint and taken recreationally). The star
drink of the 1810s and 1820s, it was supplanted in the 1830s it was supplanted by the Sherry Cobbler (a
light and refreshing drink that relied on the use of lots of ice for its effect) and in the 1840s by the Smash,
which was nothing more than a short Julep heavily iced.
Throughout the period, punch maintained its popularity, but in an abbreviated form: rather than by the
bowl, American barkeepers learned to make it by the glass. In the winter, hot Sling or Toddy (the two
were essentially indistinguishable) ruled the bar, particularly in the form of Apple Toddy, which was
made by whisking roasted apple into a plain Toddy.

At the same time, American bartenders such as New Yorkers Orsamus Willard of the City Hotel, Shed
Sterling of the Astor House and Cato Alexander—along with William Pitcher of the Tremont House in
Boston, George Vennigerholtz of the Mansion House in Natchez and a vast number of others whose
names were not even recorded by history—were laying the groundwork for the way bartenders have
approached their job ever since: developing barware, figuring out techniques, learning how to handle ice,
and doing it all faster, better and more dramatically than ever before.

This new way of doing something very old did not escape the world’s attention: in the first part of the
nineteenth century, the United States played host to scores of European travelers seeking to take the
measure of the new nation. Many of them wrote books about their experiences, and one of the obligatory
topics touched on was the American way of drinking. Before long, the curiosity these drinks inspired
prompted the first experiments with American bars in Europe. London had one or two as early as the
1840s, although they did not last. The ones in Paris took longer to open, but were more stable when they
did: the Cosmopolitan bar on Rue Scribe, for example, opened in 1865 and lasted for a good decade or
more.
ULE III
Up until this point, the only source we have to tell us what American mixologists (a term that was
invented as a joke in 1856 and rapidly caught on, in the absence of a better way to describe a bartender
who was superior at mixing drinks) were up to are newspaper articles, novels and the accounts of
travelers. In 1862, however, the New York trade publisher Dick & Fitzgerald issued the first book entirely
devoted to practical instruction in mixing drinks. The Bon Vivant’s Companion, by Jeremiah P. “Jerry”
Thomas (1830- 1885), marked the maturity of the American way of mixing drinks. (Although the first
American bartender’s guide, it was not the first book devoted entirely to the art of mixing drinks; that
honor belongs to the 1827 Oxford Night Caps, published by one Richard Cook in Oxford, England,
supposedly for the use of the university students there.)

The 236 recipes Thomas included in The Bon Vivant’s Companion are divided into numerous classes,
including Punches, Sours, Fixes (a fancy Sour), Juleps, Toddies and Slings. This was a real innovation,
the first attempt to construct a genealogy for the mixed drink. More innovation was to be found in the
thirteen-drink section devoted to “Cocktails & Crustas” (a Crusta is simply “an improvement on the
‘Cocktail,’” as the Professor says).

Compared to the seventy-nine different Punches, this is a mere handful of recipes, but they’re enough to
show that the simple cocktail was well along in that process of mutation which all culinary traditions
undergo on these shores. It wasn’t just the integration of ice into the drink’s very essence. It wasn’t just
the replacement of plain old sugar with fancy new gum syrup (a thick simple syrup with gum Arabic
added to it for smoothness), or the addition of a little (fancy, imported) liqueur or the flourish of
squeezing a strip of lemon peel over the top. The ice excepted, those don’t really change the nature of the
drink that much: it’s still a drink where the base liquor dominates the taste, with the other things—bitters,
liqueur, lemon oil—working as accents and blending/smoothing agents. But other, stranger ingredients
were finding their way into the drink.

Consider Thomas’ “Japanese Cocktail” (it was most likely so named to commemorate the first Japanese
mission to the United States, which reached American shores in 1860). Instead of sugar to sweeten its
brandy and bitters, it calls for “orgeat,” a French syrup made with almonds and orange-flower water.
Suddenly, the drink doesn’t taste like brandy anymore—all the ingredients blend together, creating
something entirely new. It’s not just the ingredients that are changing, either.

Rather than calling for his drink to be poured back and forth from glass to glass to mix the liquids (as was
customary) and then served in one of them, Thomas calls for some of his Cocktails to be mixed in one
glass and strained into another, so that the ice will still cool it, but without diluting it more than what’s
required to round off the liquor’s edge. And progress doesn’t stop there. To be really fancy, you can
always moisten the “edge of the glass...with lemon.” Still not fancy enough? Simply take that lemon-
moistened edge and dip it in powdered sugar— and, while you’re at it, throw in the spiral-cut peel of a
half lemon and a splash of the juice. You’ve just made a Crusta. “Then smile,” as the Professor says.

The second edition of the Professor’s book, in 1876, included an Appendix with “all the latest inventions
in beverages, obtained through the courtesy of some of the most celebrated caterers to the tastes of an
appreciative public in our first-class bars and wine-rooms.” Among these inventions are the so-called
Daisies—brandy, whiskey, gin or rum—which blur the difference between cocktail and punch, seeing as
they consist of liquor, lemon juice, gum syrup and “orange cordial” (i.e., liqueur), like a punch, and yet
they’re shaken with ice and strained into a cocktail glass like a cocktail, with a splash of seltzer to top
them off and bring them back into the punch camp. Odd, but delicious.

There are also formulae for “improved” cocktails in brandy, whiskey and gin, featuring the novel addition
of a dash of absinthe to the usual liquor, sweetener, bitters and dash of liqueur. Thomas’ second edition
also marks the debut of the Fizz, a concoction not unlike the Daisy (with more gum and no cordial) but
served in a taller glass with a lot more seltzer. The Fizz, particularly when made with gin, would become
America’s morning-after drink of choice until the Bloody Mary stepped in to assume that role some
eighty years later.

By the time the third edition of Thomas’ book appeared, in 1887, the Professor himself had been dead for
two years and the Cocktail had undergone even more change, amounting to a creative revolution. Instead
of simple, generic names— “Brandy Cocktail,” “Gin Cocktail,” Whiskey Cocktail,” etc.— it was taking
strange forms whose names told the consumer nothing about what was in them.

There was already the Japanese Cocktail in the 1862 edition of Thomas’ book; now, to join it, one finds
the Martinez Cocktail, the Manhattan Cocktail, the Morning Glory Cocktail, the Saratoga Cocktail—you
get the picture. Among these, you’ll no doubt recognize the Manhattan. The Morning Glory and the
Saratoga have fallen out of the picture. Which leaves the Martinez, or—as it soon became known—the
Martini.

A recurring theme in the history of mixology is the difficulty of nailing down exact origins for cocktails,
and these two—the most famous drinks in the Cocktail Pantheon—are no exception. It’s clear that they
both rose to popularity right around 1880, but beyond that one cannot go without walking on some
precarious ground indeed.

Whatever the precise details of their origin, the Manhattan and the Martini both seem to have bubbled
under for a few years before breaking out into popularity and common knowledge in the mid-1880s, when
one finds, for instance, the “solitary, discontented and rocky specimen” of the New York bachelor
walking into a swank Broadway restaurant at breakfast time and addressing the waiter with considerable
irritation: “Stand still, can’t you? You make a man’s head swim bobbing around so. What I want is a
Manhattan cocktail with absinthe, frozen [i.e., with shaved ice in the glass].”The cocktail might’ve come
a long way since 1803—or 1710, for that matter—but it was still, to some folks anyway, a hangover cure.
The Martini
Numerous stories have been advanced about the creation of the Martini. Some say Jerry Thomas
invented it while he was behind the bar at San Francisco’s Occidental Hotel, for a traveler who was on
his way to the nearby town of Martinez. Or that Julio Richelieu, of Martinez, invented it for a traveler
heading to San Francisco. Or perhaps Martini di Arma di Taggia invented it in 1911 for John D.
Rockefeller at NewYork’s Hotel Knickerbocker. These are the most popular, but the listgoes on.
Unfortunately, there’s never been a single document found to support the first two, and the last one is
patently false:by 1911, the Martinez/Martini had been turning up in print for almost thirty years.
The first mention of a mixture of gin and vermouth in print is, as far as we know, in an 1883 newspaper
article, where there is some confusion between it and its close cousin, the Manhattan (in fact, the mixture
of gin and vermouth is identified as a Manhattan). This isn’t as crazy as it may sound. Here’s the
Martini’s dirty little secret: for all its reputation for dryness, for all the talk one encounters of misting
the glass with dry vermouth from an atomizer, in its childhood, the Martini was made with sweet
vermouth. It wasn’t clear, it was red! Huh. The Dry Martini, with white French vermouth instead of
the red Italian stuff, doesn’t start turning up until around 1895, and even then it’s usually made with the
lightly-sweetened Old Tom gin instead of London dry, and mixed with vermouth in equal parts and
a dash of orange bitters.

The Manhattan
As for the Manhattan. The myth of its creation has been repeated so often as to be almost
unchallengeable: it was invented for a banquet hosted in 1874 by Jennie Jerome at New York’s
Manhattan Club to celebrate Samuel J. Tilden’s election as governor. It’s true, Tilden was elected
Governor of New York on November 3, 1874. But Jennie Jerome gave birth to her first child, Winston
Churchill, on November 30 of that same year. That was in England; she hadn’t been anywhere near New
York in ages. And besides, Tilden liked his whiskey—rye—straight. Nonetheless, there may be a grain of
truth in the story. Not in the Jerome part, of course—that probably started because the Manhattan
Club was located, for a time, in the early twentieth century in the former Jerome mansion, on Madison
Square. But the Manhattan Club did host a dinner for Tilden, on December 29, 1874. And its social
history does claim that the cocktail was invented on the premises, where they always made them half
vermouth and half whiskey, with a dash of orange bitters. (An 1873 newspaper article notes that the
Manhattan Club had a new house cocktail; unfortunately, it gives no description.) Others at the time
certainly had no trouble ascribing the drink to the club.

The Professor
“An American? Dear me, yes, and a sailor, too. I was born in Watertown, [New York] ...and sailed all
about the world before the mast. I landed in San Francisco in 1849 and ran off into the hills after
gold....”As the man from the New York Sun listened, Jeremiah P. Thomas narrated with practiced tongue
the highlights of a life spent shuttling from bar to bar like a bee among flowers. San Francisco.
Downieville, amid the Yuba River gold fields. New Haven. New York. Charleston. St. Louis. New Orleans.
Chicago. London. Paris. Back to New York. Back to San Francisco. To Virginia City and the Comstock
Lode. Back again to New York, as the Civil War ended–this time, but for a final foray to Denver and
Leadville in 1879-81, to stay. In New York, the “Professor,” as he came to be known, was quite
successful for a time. The bar that he ran with his brother George at Broadway and 22nd Street was
probably the most famous one in the country not attached to a hotel. Actors, politicians, journalists,
gamblers and other sporty types, many of them famous, came for the drinks and to look at the huge
collection of caricatures displayed on the walls. Unfortunately, Thomas liked to play the stock market,
and it eventually turned on him. The Sun caught up with him in 1882, as he was auctioning off his
pictures. He died three years later, broke at the age of 55. His most famous bar, on the southwest
corner of Broadway and 22nd Street, is now a house wares store.
Boom, Prohibition, and Bust, 1885-1934
Ironically, when Jerry Thomas died at the end of 1885, the cocktail was on the brink of its first golden
age. Sure, there were still only twenty-odd varieties of the thing in general circulation, and most of those
were easily recognizable as variations on that same old early-nineteenth century spirits-sugar-bitters-ice
formula. But those cocktails, along with the rest of his gospel, were spreading world-wide. In 1878, Leo
Engel, a Brooklyn bartender who was managing the Criterion bar in London, put a book of American
drinks—only the second to be published in Britain—together that was for the most part swiped directly
from the Professor’s, although there was a section of his own drinks as well. Editions of Thomas’s book
and of the one written by Harry Johnson, a German-born New York bartender of great skill, began
appearing in various European countries and as far away as Australia. American-style cocktail bars were
beginning to appear all around the world, from Dublin (where the Jury’s Hotel was advertising its “large
American bar” in 1900) to Berlin to Brussels, Santiago de Cuba to Yokohama— there was even an
American bar in Patagonia. Most of the bartenders at these places were either Americans or had worked
in the U.S., but by no means all. The famous Henry, of Henry’s Bar, Paris, had been to the States but
once, spending only a few hours in Hoboken, New Jersey.

Back in the States, the cocktail was changing, and fast. Consider Jacques Straub’s Drinks, a pocket recipe
guide published in 1914. It has 26 pages of recipes for Cocktails. Cocktails with vermouth; cocktails with
lemon juice, lime juice, orange juice (in Jerry Thomas’s day, such a thing would have been called a Punch
or a Sour); cocktails sweetened with all kinds of fancy liqueurs and flavored syrups, even cocktails made
without what had been the drink’s defining ingredient, bitters. Bartenders at the top bars in the country—
places like the Palace Hotel bar in San Francisco, or the one at the Hoffman House Hotel in New York—
were in the habit of inventing new drinks at the drop of a hat and naming them after whoever ordered
them.

At the same time, the other categories of American drinks were in decline. Punches, Toddies, Slings and
Juleps were for old fogeys; short, cold blasts of concentrated flavor such as the Aviation, the Daiquiri, the
Bronx and the Dry Martini were the order of the day, and they were flying over the bar as never before.

Then came Prohibition. This isn’t the place for a history of the American Temperance Movement, but the
subject really can’t be avoided entirely due to the impact it ended up having on global cocktail culture.
The issue was, along with the abolition of slavery, one of the most hotly debated topics in nineteenth
century America. Some favored encouraging men to drink temperately, others encouraging them not to
drink at all. When these approaches failed to yield total success, many advocates of temperance redefined
the word, changing it from meaning “exerting self-control to master a sometimes-dangerous and socially
disruptive habit” to “using the law to prevent people from even having the opportunity to exert their self-
control.”

From this distance, banning the sale, manufacture and importation of a commodity without which a very
large part of the world had, since time immemorial, concluded human life could not flourish, seems like a
rash and vindictive act. Nonetheless, by 1915 almost half of the states were dry. America’s entry into the
Great War, then raging in Europe, gave the “Drys” more ammunition, as it were, to fight for the
suppression of so unproductive a use of the nation’s resources as turning them into beverage alcohol.

Finally, folks capitulated. The Eighteenth Amendment, banning the manufacture, sale or importation of
all alcoholic beverages, was ratified on January 16, 1919. A year later, the Volstead Act, which created an
enforcement structure for the amendment, took effect. Five hundred and seven distilleries, 1,217
breweries and some 180,000 saloons closed their doors. Unfortunately, once the Volstead Act went into
force on January 16, 1920, things didn’t work out as everybody had hoped.
To make something that a majority perceives as harmless and fun illegal is not the same thing as to make
it go away. If anything, quite the opposite: the nation went on a massive binge of illegal tippling. In fact,
even women started getting into the act. Saloons had kept them out, but speakeasies couldn’t afford to be
that choosy. All in all, it was a fine mess. By the end of the ’20s, Henry Ford, a notorious Dry, was
supporting repeal—so that people would cut down on their drinking.

The stuff that was fueling this binge wasn’t very good. In the cheaper joints, it was rotgut distilled in a
basement somewhere by folks who had no care for such fine points as taste, quality or even elementary
sanitation. In a few of the most expensive places, such as New York’s 21 Club, you could, for a price, get
some of the whiskey, rum and champagne that was being smuggled in from abroad in staggering
quantities, and if you were very, very lucky, it would be uncut. If you were a little less lucky, it would be
cut responsibly with filtered water and grain alcohol. If you weren’t lucky, you’d get rooked completely.

In fact, although there is a persistent popular myth that all cocktails originated during Prohibition, few
drinks with a lasting reputation were invented then, and in fact it was not a good time for the
discriminating drinker or for the mixologist. The bartender’s art was directed toward covering the taste of
bad liquor, not enhancing the taste of good. If you wanted a proper cocktail, the best place to get it was
abroad—in Havana, say, or London or Paris.

Up to this point, the international school of mixology was a mere sapling in the shadow of the mighty
American oak. As we’ve seen, “American bars” had been operating all around the world since the middle
of the nineteenth century. Sure, the drinks were often unrecognizable to actual Americans, but at least
people were trying. Authentic ingredients and equipment weren’t always easy to find (one 1917 Swedish
bar book—Stockholm had had an American bar at least since 1902—has all the short drinks served in
port wine glasses, for lack of cocktail ones). Even ice, the basic building block of the American bar, was
hard to get, although Norway developed an effective export industry in this essential commodity that went
some way toward filling the gap, at least in Northern Europe.

Another problem was that genuine, skilled American bartenders could command top dollar—or whatever
the local currency was—once they took themselves abroad, and thus had little incentive to teach the locals
the tricks of their trade. Then again, they could command top dollar at home, too, so outside of the States
there were never enough of them to go around.

That would change once Prohibition came and many of these artistes chose to exercise their art in exile
rather than abandon it or practice it surreptitiously and with adulterated materials. As one American
traveler observed in 1922, “From Madrid and from Naples north to Amsterdam, I have not seen a single
town in continental Europe which has not its American bar, with the eagle and Stars and Stripes
conspicuously displayed and the bartender swearing by all that is holy that he worked in the USA before
the great drought overtook it.”

Among these exiles was Harry Craddock, a veteran of the Hoffman House bar and the bar at the swank
Holland House Hotel on Fifth Avenue. In 1920, he got a job in London at the Savoy Hotel’s American
Bar, then under the direction of Ada “Coley” Coleman, one of the very few women to make a name as a
mixologist until recent years. When she retired four years later, the bar became Harry’s.

In 1926, Craddock circulated a letter among his former clientele in New York, touting the moist delights
that he had waiting for them across the pond. According to the New York Times, the letter included “a list
of 172 items classified as cocktails, coolers, daisies, fizzes, flips, highballs,
punches, rickeys, smashes, sours, liqueurs, cordials and frappés”—all the standard classes of pre-
Prohibition American tipple.
The Times took the list down to Wall Street in New York and showed it to a passerby “swinging a
malacca stick and wearing a blue flannel suit, a sailor straw with a blue and white band, a blue necktie
and tan shoes.... He scanned it rapidly, handed it back and said: ‘The prices are just about the same as in
New York.’” But Craddock’s letter also said that, “he had improved his absence by perfecting cocktails
and that he was now able to give his patrons a choice of 280 mixtures.”

It’s these other cocktails, the ones that weren’t on his list, that tell the real story.

We know that because, four years later, he put out a bar book of his own, and it was jammed with drinks
that had never slid across an American bar. Drinks based on strange, foreign aperitifs such as the French
Kina Lillet and Quinquina or the South African Caperitif; exotic liquors—calvados, vodka (practically
unknown in the States) and even Canadian whisky, in place of the unavailable rye and bourbon (Canadian
whiskies had certainly been marketed in the States before Prohibition, but we know of only one cocktail
recipe from the period that called for it); exotically-named liqueurs and unusual syrups (it’s safe to say
not even the Hoffman House would have carried sirop de groseille; it’s made of red currants, and you still
can’t get it in the U.S. or almost anywhere but France).

The formulae were simple, streamlined, without the rococo refinements of composition and technique
characteristic of the vanished American school—indeed, in European hands, the complex system of
categories by which Americans classified their drinks was reduced to two: “long drinks” and “short
drinks” (to this was eventually added a third, specifically reserved for things served in a stemmed
Cocktail glass). But they were elegant, too, and often imaginative.

What’s more, the Savoy Cocktail Book, as it was called, was one of the first drinks books to pay any
attention to design. The Savoy Hotel was in the midst of an Art Deco makeover, and the book fit right in.
Striking green and gold cover, multicolor printing, copious and witty drawings by Gilbert Rumbold, snide
comments on the drinks scattered here and there in red ink—it was and still is a thoroughly desirable
object; a book to display, not one to keep under the bar. But what really makes it indispensable is
Craddock’s larcenous turn of mind.

Compilers of drinks books have always taken the lenient approach to the eighth commandment, and Harry
Craddock was no different: he pinched recipes by the dozens from all the popular books of the day and a
few pre-Prohibition American ones as well. As a result, the Savoy Cocktail Book was more than just a list
of the drinks you could get at an expensive London hotel. It was an encyclopedia of the flourishing
European school of mixology. It was also an ark for what was left of the American school, written at a
time when Americans were marveling at European bars like the European travelers of old had at
American ones.

Besides writing books, Craddock and his peers did something equally important. They trained bartenders.
French bartenders, German bartenders, English, Italian, Dutch, Cuban bartenders, you name it. A whole
generation of them, not one of whom had ever mixed a drink at a pre- Prohibition American bar. That
very fact was liberating— these pioneers were free to re-imagine the art in their own ways. Before long,
they began banding together, forming national bartending guilds and associations, something that had
been only fitfully successful in the U.S. Organizations such as the United Kingdom Bartenders’ Guild,
founded in 1933, or the Associazione Italiana Barmen e Sostenitori, “Italian Association of Barmen and
their Sustainers,” founded in 1949, worked to set standards for the profession and to solidify the European
school of mixology. In 1951, delegates from the national guilds of Denmark,
France, Italy, the Netherlands, Sweden, Switzerland and the United Kingdom met to form the IBA, the
International Bartenders Association. Today it has chapters in fifty-five countries. In 1961, even the
United States joined, as if to acknowledge the new, international nature of this formerly American craft.
Of course, American bars had already been acknowledging that phenomenon every time one served a
Sidecar, invented in France around the end of World War I, or sat a patron on a barstool—a feature of
European bars that had not been present in pre-Prohibition American ones. The ironic fact was, after
Repeal, in reconstructing their profession, American barmen had to look to European models.

The Long Road Back, 1934 - Present

The United States still wielded a good deal of influence on world drinking habits, though, particularly
after December 5, 1933, when the Utah Legislature joined those of thirty-five other states who had
already voted to repeal the Eighteenth Amendment and it was done. Millions cheered. Unfortunately, it
wasn’t so easy getting the motherland of the cocktail back to pre-Prohibition “normal.” For one thing, a
whole generation had come of age who had never experienced the wonders of the pre-Prohibition hotel
bar, whose taste buds had been spoiled by constant exposure to cream and ginger ale (both commonly
used to mask bad hooch)—those taste buds, that is, that hadn’t been ground down to raw nubs by the
rivers of Orange Blossoms (bathtub gin—bootleg alcohol cut with water and flavored with extract of
juniper—mixed with orange juice) that had been flowing over them. It would take some time for people
to get used to civilized drinks again.

Even if folks managed to educate their taste buds, where were the expert bartenders going to come from?
The standard speakeasy bar-dog wasn’t much good at anything more complicated than an Old-Fashioned.
Many of the old-time mixologists who had gone abroad stayed there. Others had died or found other lines
of work. The publishing industry stepped into the breach with reprints of just about every old-time pre-
Prohibition bartender’s guide worth knowing, from Jerry Thomas to Cocktail Bill Boothby, but many of
the drinks in them were simply too complicated, and besides, the public had lost its taste for such
confections.

The order of the day was simple and strong—and artificial: this is when pre-sweetened, artificially-
flavored sour mix made its debut (no training needed there—just dump it in the glass and add booze). The
Sidecar, a simple European tipple of unclear parentage combining brandy, Cointreau and lemon juice,
was in, and the Brandy Crusta was out.

The Martini was in, although it used much less vermouth than it once had. The Manhattan was slightly
less in, but still going strong (this might have had something to do with the lighter Canadian whisky or
blended American whiskey that largely replaced the big-flavored rye with which it had been made in the
old days). But if there was one drink that profited from Prohibition, it was the Scotch Highball.

Scotch whisky was a relative latecomer in the business of slaking the Great American Thirst. Sure, it was
around— Jerry Thomas calls for it in a few drinks in his 1862 Bar- Tender’s Guide—but the vast majority
of American drinkers preferred the native goods. It began its rise to popularity in the 1890s, with the
introduction of another Scottish product, golf. Like the game, at first it was a rich man’s pleasure, even if
the Scotch that the rich folks were drinking wasn’t the fancy single-malt that such folks drink now.
Rather, it was the lighter blended Scotch, and it
was generally consumed with soda.

Prohibition saw this Scotch version of the Whiskey Highball, as whiskey and soda was known, move to
center stage. (The name “highball” has caused a good deal of confusion; the most sensible explanation
we know as to its origin is that, in Ireland, where many of America’s bartenders grew up, a glass of
whiskey was popularly called a “ball of malt;” A tall glass, therefore, is a “high ball.)”

Even if folks would’ve preferred their customary rye or bourbon, there was precious little good rye and
bourbon to be had, while the smugglers of “Rum Row”—the row of booze-laden ships that always
hovered outside American territorial waters—saw to it that there was lots and lots of Scotch. People got
used to it, especially with the soda sparking it up a bit and cutting the unfamiliar smokiness. It didn’t hurt
that anyone can make a Highball—no need for a bartender long-apprenticed in his craft.

In the days after repeal, this was a good thing. Despite all the new books and the bartending academies
popping up all over the place and all the modern labor-saving devices (electric cocktail shaker, anyone?),
only in the best bars— places like Don the Beachcomber’s in Los Angeles, Trader Vic’s in Oakland or
New York’s Stork Club—could you expect to find someone who knew the art the way it had been
practiced before Prohibition.

The so-called “Tiki” phenomenon of the 1940s and 1950s, pioneered by Donn Beach and Victor Bergeron
and others too numerous to name here, was, mixologically speaking, synonymous with rum. Beach’s
Zombie (at least, we think he invented it—unlike Bergeron, he was very, very secretive) and Bergeron’s
Mai Tai were merely the most popular of a wave of Missionary’s Downfalls and Dr. Funk of Tahitis,
Scorpion Bowls, Vicious Virgins and anything else you could cram three or four ounces of mixed rums
into.

The post-war years saw the Tiki phenomenon blossom into a true craze, at least in the U.S.—Europe,
lacking the millions of young men who had spent their war years in the South Pacific, was less enamored
of the idea, although some Tiki or tropical-style bars did manage to thrive there. But Tiki joints, all
decked out with totems and palm leaves, dotted the American landscape (even in the most un-tropical
Midwest) like temples of some new and wildly pagan religion. This isn’t the place to get into the whys
and wherefores of broad social phenomena, but it’s worth noting the irony that many men who had
experienced the South Pacific firsthand as a place of terror, death and disease experienced it a second time
in virtual reality, as it were, as a place of exotic beauty, mediocre food and overlarge rum drinks.

In any case, delicious as the drinks were, the Tiki bartenders were highly secretive about their formulae
and techniques, and once the fad dried up, they did little to pass their devotion to fresh juices and
innovative recipes on to the general run of bartender.

Even when Tiki was in full cry, not everybody liked rum. Take Bernard DeVoto, intellectual, historian
and opinionated drinker. Right at the time folks began seriously genuflecting to the Tiki gods, he wrote a
series of articles (collected in 1951 in The Hour) on the culture of drinking in America.

He did not care for the stuff: “it is drunk as all sweet liquors are, in a regressive fantasy, a sad hope of
regaining childhood’s joy at the soda fountain,” and he did not care for the Daiquiri, rum’s standard-
bearer: “No one should drink [rum] with a corrosive added, which is the formula of the Daiquiri.” In fact,
DeVoto didn’t care for much at all: no Manhattans (“an offense against piety...with dry vermouth, it is
disreputable, with sweet vermouth disgusting”), no Bronxes (“ominous...a cocktail does not contain fruit
juice”), nor anything else (the formulae in bartenders’ guides and so forth “are fit to be drunk only in the
barbarian marches and mostly are drunk there, by barbarians”).

No, there are only two true cocktails worthy of civilized consumption: “a slug of whiskey” with ice and a
Dry Martini. No matter that the first is in no way a cocktail or mixed drink of any kind; when DeVoto
took a stand, he took a stand, and would brook no opposition.

Nor did he stand alone, especially as the 1940s turned into the 1950s. The (Ultra-) Dry Martini was the
cult of the age, at least with those who refused to yield to the seductive pleasures of Tiki. DeVoto calls for
his Martinis to be made at 3.7 to 4 parts gin to 1 part dry vermouth. In this, he was behind the times. At
New York’s Stork Club, a former speakeasy that had become the most famous nightclub in America (and
hence the world), they had been making them 5 to 1 since at least the late 1930s. They had plenty of other
drinks in their bar book, but it’s a safe bet that they sold as many dry Martinis as they did all their other
offerings put together. The post-war years were as much the Dry Martini age as they were the Tiki Age—
as efficient, repressed and cold as they were dreamy, comfortable and kitschy.

The Stork Club way with the Martini would have been unthinkable to the Martini drinkers of the 1910s
(they liked theirs with equal parts gin and vermouth and a dash of orange bitters), but it too would soon be
left by the wayside. By the mid-1950s, there were almost as many silly ways to leave the vermouth out of
Martinis as there were Martini drinkers.

Leave a capful of vermouth on the radiator to evaporate and infuse the air. Pour the vermouth into one
mixing glass full of ice and the gin into another one, stir the gin and pour it into a cocktail glass, ignoring
the vermouth. Place the vermouth bottle in the window and let the sun shine through it onto the gin.
Forget about the physical vermouth entirely and simply salute in the direction of France. So what if this
silliness makes for an inferior drink; so what if a decent amount of vermouth— say, somewhere between
half and an eighth of the drink—has certain beneficial and poorly understood alchemical effects upon the
system of the Martini drinker, or at least his or her taste buds. It wasn’t about the taste buds anyway. For
some drinkers, even gin itself was too elaborate. For them, there was vodka. At the beginning of World
War II, vodka was a little-known novelty. By the end of the 1950s, it was everywhere.

Donn and Vic

One of the few good effects Prohibition had on American drinking, besides allowing women into bars (as
William Grimes points out in his brilliant book Straight Up or On the Rocks), was giving people the
opportunity to stretch their palates a bit—when you can’t get what you’re used to, you try new things.
One of those things was rum, which was flowing freely in the Caribbean. Countless thirsty Americans
made the rum cruise through the islands, and brought home with them a new appreciation of the tropical
drink (and a lot of suspiciously heavy luggage that sloshed when you kicked it). Some brave souls even
came to appreciate tequila, a drink little known in the States outside of the border regions of Texas and
the Southwest. After repeal, a fair amount of this goodwill for the exotic beverage endured, and even
expanded. As early as the mid-1930s, you could find a “Hawaiian Room” or a “Cuban Room” or
something like that in just about any big city in America, usually tucked away in one of the major hotels.
There you’d get some “native” music to dance to and a tepidly exotic dinner with a rum drink or two to
wash it down. In 1934, right after repeal, a certain Ernest Beaumont-Gantt, a son of New Orleans,
opened such a joint in Hollywood. He called it “Don the Beachcomber.” Its rum drinks were strong and
unusual, though, and it was successful—so successful that Gantt legally changed his name to “Donn
Beach”(we don’t know what the extra ‘n’ is about). Also in 1934, Victor Bergeron opened up a bar and
grill in Emeryville, California (right across the bay from San Francisco). He called it Hinky-Dink’s. It
was a barebones kind of joint, with nothing special to distinguish it. But Bergeron had what one might
call a pronounced personality, and he wasn’t quite satisfied with things the way they were. After a
research trip to Louisiana, Cuba and Hollywood (including a stop at Don the Beachcomber), he redid the
place, changing the name to “Trader Vic’s” (he was always swapping things with his customers) and
giving it a South Seas décor. By World War II, Trader Vic’s was an institution. Beach served in the Air
Corps during the war, which endeared him to returning servicemen, but perhaps not as much as
ergeron’s war work did—a wooden leg kept him out of the service, but he did his bit by shipping free
cases of rum to wherever in the Pacific Americans were fighting. After the shooting stopped, Vic found
himself a world-famous oracle of entertaining, not unlike a crusty, one-legged Martha Stewart; by the
1950s, though, Beach had run into business problems—not the least of which being the fact that his
vindictive ex-wife owned his trademark—and he more or less faded from the picture (at least on the
mainland: he took refuge in Hawaii, where his Hawaiian Village was one of the prime movers in the new
tourist industry there).

MODULE III
Vodka Changes the Playing Field
Although vodka was available in the Saloon Age if you knew where to look, it wasn’t appreciated. The
annals of American mixology contain but a single drink from that time made with it, and that drink mixed
vodka with gin, brandy and half a dozen other ingredients. What vodka there was to be found was
imported.

Prohibition put an end to such marginal trades, and the Russian Revolution didn’t help matters. After
Repeal, the Soviets tried exporting it and the Smirnoff Company tried making it in the U.S. Both attempts
were widely ignored. That doesn’t mean interested parties didn’t sniff at it here and there. As the ancient
bartender’s saw goes, “everything is good for something,” and a few vodka drinks started turning up. In
the mid-30s there was a bit of a craze for Russian restaurants in New York, with joints such as the
Caucasian Eagle on East fifty-fifth Street packing them in nightly. A few cocktail books start including
simple vodka concoctions, usually variants on the Martini or simple mixtures of vodka and liqueur.

Then came Pearl Harbor and suddenly, Russia and the U.S. now being allies, vodka was chic and
available. After the war, the Moscow Mule and the Bloody Mary and the Screwdriver took off and pushed
it into the national consciousness. Then the Vodka Martini took up the standard, not without a little help
from James Bond. Ian Fleming, who knew his drinks, made Bond a vodka drinker—and a gin drinker,
whiskey drinker, champagne drinker, rum drinker, and so forth. But vodka was the one that made it into
the movies (it didn’t hurt that sales were doubling every year).

By the end of the 1950s, the Tiki craze was leveling off in America, with nothing to take its place, and all
around the world the dry gin Martini was yielding to vodka; the old favorites were getting pushed aside in
favor of lighter and often radically simpler drinks—not to mention other intoxicants. The stage was set for
an age of mixological confusion and decline. It’s not that people didn’t drink in the 1960s and 1970s, and
it’s not that they didn’t drink cocktails. But standards had definitely slipped.

Strong and forthright were out; light and mellow were in. Vodka, the lightest of the light, was in. Gin (in
the U.S., first outsold by vodka in 1967) and whiskey (outsold by vodka in 1976) were out. Perhaps the
more adventurous souls had turned their backs on the venerable old cocktail and were exploring, let’s say,
other avenues of relaxation. Or maybe it was just that the times were demanding and the folks were tired.
Perhaps it was that the drinks of the day reflected the food of the time, the TV cuisine that has led BAR
partner Doug Frost to label it “the era of Fear of Flavor.”

Even the mighty Martini suffered. By the late 1960s, a significant portion of its clientele had taken to
drinking theirs on the rocks. One shudders to think what, say, Jack Townsend, head of the New York
Bartender’s Union in the 1950s and a bartender’s bartender if there ever was one, would’ve said if
someone tried to pull such a stunt in his joint.

But it wasn’t just the old favorites (the cocktail-shaker classics) that were in trouble. The 60s and 70s saw
a lot of drinks on the rocks—in fact, the whole art of mixology was on the rocks. When the hot new drink
of the age is nothing more than vodka and orange juice (that is, a Screwdriver) with a float of liqueur,
there’s trouble. That concoction was known as a Harvey Wallbanger, and it set a trend in more ways than
one. It wasn’t a “real” drink, you see—that is, one that a real bartender invented one night in a real bar
and served to real customers until it caught on. The Harvey Wallbanger was something (probably) cooked
up by the liqueur company and spread by their advertising and promotion (certainly).When the hype
stopped, so did the drink.

If the Wallbanger was too complicated, you could have a Sombrero— that’s simply Kahlùa and milk—or
a Rusty Nail—Drambuie and Scotch— both served on the rocks, of course. The list of simple, relatively
bland drinks that achieved popularity at the time goes on through the Tequila Sunrise (a bastardized
version of a 1930s Mexican drink), the Salty Dog (vodka and grapefruit juice in a salt-rimmed glass) and
the Cape Codder to the Freddie Fudpucker (a Wallbanger with tequila) and a host of others equally
forgotten.

It wasn’t only an American phenomenon; all around the world, fullflavored traditional spirits were
retreating in the face of mass-marketed, light, mixable spirits; the kind you could pour into a soft drink,
stick a garnish on and voilà, Disco Drinks. Even in Brazil, the fashionable way to serve the traditional
Caipirinha, a drink that needed no improvement of any kind, was made with vodka or white rum instead
of the rich and funky cachaça with which it was created—thus yielding a Caipiroska or a Caipirissima,
each a perfectly pleasant drink, but no Caipirinha.

Practically the only exception to the “nice and easy does it” rule was the Bloody Mary, a drink from the
1920s that had been building popularity for decades and finally hit it big. Of course, it didn’t get its flavor
from the vodka in it, which was there simply to add kick.

Thank God for the Margarita, a drink that had been hovering at the edges of popularity for a couple of
decades and had finally broken through. At least it had a couple of good years there before somebody
thought it could be improved by bunging everything into a frozen-drink machine. Once that happened,
there was no need for good tequila in it, or tequila at all. In the mid-1980s, one popular chain of
Manhattan Mexican restaurants was caught basing their famous frozen Margaritas on pure grain neutral
spirits, with no tequila of any sort. Mixological habits this venal and slovenly were bound to provoke
some kind of reaction, and in the fullness of time they did.
MODULE III
The multitude of shots masquerading as cocktails in the 80s and 90s have been dubbed the Punk Cocktails
by writer and bartender Gary Regan, who notes that these simple concoctions were as ugly, loud and
confrontational as any self-respecting mosh pit. Punk’s rejection of technical proficiency may have had
plenty of justification in the incestuous and moneyed music industry. But it’s more difficult to justify
when it extends to things you’re meant to put inside your body; to those high-octane, tooth-achingly
sweet shots laden with Jell-O or named after body parts and sex acts. Perhaps it was all merely a
coincidence. Things may have been pretty bleak for the lover of the well-crafted cocktail during the long
spell of the 60s, 70s and 80s, but there was still the occasional Brigadoon, where bartenders squeezed
their juices fresh rather than using commercial sour mix, where jiggers were a full 2 oz.—60 ml—rather
than the cheese-paring 1-oz.—30ml—one that was increasingly coming into use, where Martinis had
vermouth in them (but not too much) and Manhattans rye, but not too much, and a call for a Freddie
Fudpucker or a Slow Comfortable Screw would be met with, if not a punch in the mouth, at least a
disapproving shake of the head.

Most of these bars were old-line joints where the customers, the owners or both knew what they wanted
and wouldn’t tolerate any deviation. Many of the great hotel bars in Europe held the line, keeping
everything to strict IBA standard and tolerating no shortcuts.

As the 80s rolled into the 90s, though, more and more of these oases were new places, places that tried to
do things right because that’s the only way to do them.

There are two generally accepted explanations why the cocktail came back from the brink of, if not death,
then at least very serious illness. One is generational: just as the generation of the 60s and 70s looked
back on the Tiki drinks and Ultra-Dry Martinis of their parents and said “ugh” the generation of the 80s
looked at the joints and bota-bags of Sangria favored by their parents and said “ugh.” For them, there was
no better symbol of their un-hipness than a stemmed, conical glass full of clear liquid with an olive
impaled on a toothpick in it. It was so square it was cool. The other reason has to do with the revolution in
the kitchen pioneered in the 70s and 80s and 90s by a handful of talented, determined chefs such as Alice
Waters and Larry Forgione in the U.S. and Fergus Henderson in the U.K. Their approach to food—fresh,
local ingredients, imaginative but respectful use of traditional techniques and recipes, an attention to
detail and presentation—eventually began rubbing off on the folks behind the bar.

By the early 1990s, places like the Rainbow Room in New York, Bix in San Francisco, Dick’s Bar in
London and a handful of others were not only turning out the classics in proper style, but inventing new
drinks that could stand alongside them. One of these is the Cosmopolitan, which has done more than
anything else to get people drinking cocktails again, and in numbers not seen for almost half a century.
Some of these new creations are excellent; others are execrable. But if they fail, it’s usually a failure of
ambition, not of laziness and apathy. In many cities, a cocktail list is an essential for any new restaurant.

Indeed, the worldwide cocktail movement has become so successful that it has even begun to divide into
schools. There are what you might call the “cultural mixologists,” those who model themselves on the
greats of yore and spend their days excavating long-forgotten drinks and ingredients from crumbling old
books and shocking them back to life. They glory in bar lore and bitters; rye whiskey and romance.

Then there are the “scientific mixologists,” the children of the Cosmopolitan. They can usually be found
slinking around restaurant kitchens and chemistry labs, observing, testing, thinking. They’re always
gunning for fresh tastes and unusual textures, usually with vodka and whatever’s fresh and fruity as their
ammunition. The very best mixologists will combine elements of both schools, using a full palette of
spirits, light and dark, with an appreciation for new approaches and ingredients.

The Bartender’s Kit: History of Essential Tools

Note: Techniques for using these tools will be addressed in detail in Module 4.

The Basic Bar Kit

Give or take a speed pourer or two, a blender and one or two other items, the bartender’s basic armory—
muddler, mixing glass and mixing tin (aka Boston shaker), long-handled barspoon, jiggers of various
sizes, spoon shaped julep strainer, wire- rimmed Hawthorne strainer, citrus juicer, garnish knife and what
have you—has remained unchanged for almost a century and a half, an eloquent testimonial to the basic
simplicity and efficiency of each item. With one or two exceptions, though, we don’t know who to credit
for any of the tools.

The Muddler
The oldest item in the kit (besides the garnish knife, which is as old as the hills) is the muddler, which
goes back to the time of the American Revolution. Except for a nutmeg grater and a set of iron pokers for
heating drinks, the “toddy stick”—as it was then generally called— was practically the only specialized
piece of equipment a barkeeper had. It had two main functions: to crush the hard lumps that sugar came in
at the time, and to stir the crushed sugar together with water (hot or cold) and spirits to make a Toddy or
Sling. Add a little mint-pressing (for Juleps) and its uses are complete. The tip-tap it made as it rattled
against the glass was a defining feature of the early American tavern and fondly remembered by old-
timers once it was supplanted by other tools. Toddy sticks were usually made of hardwood, but examples
made from silver or even gold were not unheard of.

The Boston Shaker

After ice made its way into the standard bar drinks in the 1830s, the barkeeper suddenly needed a set of
picks, mallets and scoops to separate the quantity needed from the large, unwieldy blocks it was sold in
and get it into his customer’s glass. Soon, Yankee ingenuity kicked in and changed the business of mixing
drinks forever. Rather than stirring them, bartenders began pouring them back and forth between glasses,
often held at a considerable distance apart (for some reason, this seems to work better with a mixture of
liquid and ice than with liquid alone); today, a much more conservative version of this method is called
“rolling” a drink, and it is generally reserved for Bloody Marys or other drinks that foam when shaken.
For obvious reasons, a flared glass was preferred for this operation.

This technique was fine, even spectacular, provided everything in the drink wanted to mix easily. Eggs,
slices of citrus, berries, milk and cream all caused problems—as did the basic difficulty of pulling this
stunt off. A solution was found some point before 1848, when a New York writer described a bartender
“pulling long ribbons of julep out of a tin cup.” Jam a light metal cup (tin, brass or silver—stainless steel
was a thing of the future) over your glass and shake as hard as you want. This two-piece contraption
(mixing glass and metal shaker to cover) is known as a Boston shaker these days, but the exact nature of
its connection to the city on the Charles is lost.

The Boston shaker offers many advantages, which we’ll get into below, and only a couple of
disadvantages. One, it requires a strainer, unless you want to crack it open sideways and let the liquid
trickle out (something bartenders have been doing since the 1860s at least) or strain the drink through
your fingers. The first way is tricky and slow, while only bartenders of practically divine physical
attractiveness can get away with the second, and then only for customers who are susceptible to their
charms. The rest of us need some kind of strainer. The other problem with the Boston shaker is that the
glass part is a poor conductor of heat and a drink made in it won’t be quite as cold as one made purely in
metal (for this reason, many modern bars prefer to use a smaller mixing tin or “cheater tin” in place of the
glass).

Recently a wave of serious mixologists, dubbed cocktailians by author gaz regan, have begun to employ a
Boston shaker with two metal parts in an attempt to achieve the coldest possible drink. Cocktailian
bartenders are trained in jigger service, and ingredients are carefully measured to assure a consistent
drink. But a majority of the bar community are still free pour servers who seldom, if ever, use jiggers, and
many have developed considerable skill at both counting and using hand-eye coordination to achieve
consistent drinks. This style of bartending requires the server to use the glass and metal shaker, especially
with fresh juice sour drinks. Sour ingredients followed by sweet ingredients, followed by the strong and
flavoring ingredients. The ice is added last to allow the bartender to see the levels of sour, sweet and
strong and achieve a balanced drink. In the view of many professionals, using all metal Boston shakers
for this type of mixology will rob the user of the visual aspect of their skill and can make a fresh sour
drink impossible to prepare by the free-pour method.

From the late 1880s on up to approximately last week, these disadvantages, minor as they are, have
spurred inventors on to come up with the “perfect” cocktail shaker. At first, their efforts took the form of
attaching various straining bits onto the mixing tin. In the 1880s, the now-standard three-piece “Cobbler”
or “combination” shaker used by home hobbyists and a few bars here and there was introduced by E. J.
Hauck, a Brooklyn tin-ware manufacturer. Hauck’s basic invention, with its mixing tin, cover with built-
in strainer and sealing cap, has been subject to countless refinements, but when all is said and done most
bartenders still prefer the flexibility, simplicity and cheapness of the old Boston shaker.

The Julep and Hawthorne Strainers

With the Boston shaker, you need a strainer. The nineteenth century saw two kinds developed. The
simplest and oldest goes back to the middle of the century, when bartenders began using perforated,
scallop shell shaped tea-strainers to scoop their ice and strain their drinks. Eventually, manufactures
began making these specifically for the bar, enlarging the bowl and giving it an oval shape. Today, this is
called a julep strainer (oddly, since you don’t strain a Julep; the name comes from the early practice of
serving the drink with the strainer in it, for the customer to use to hold the ice back from his teeth). The
problem with the Julep strainer is that it’s not very flexible—it fits one size of glass and one size only
(and that glass can’t be overly full, either). Around 1890,Yankee ingenuity finally kicked in and
supplanted it with the “Hawthorne strainer”—the paddle- shaped device with the spring around the edge
that fits over either the glass or the tin part of the shaker.

Tradition-minded mixologists will use the julep strainer for drinks stirred in the mixing glass and the
Hawthorne strainer for shaken drinks, which are poured from the mixing tin.

The Barspoon
Not all drinks are shaken; traditionally, some are stirred. This custom goes back to the end of the
nineteenth century, when the art of mixing drinks made another one of its periodic turns of the wheel. The
shaking that had been so modern a couple of generations before was now old-fashioned, and stirring was
all the rage.

In part, this was due to the general replacement of granulated sugar with simple syrup (much easier to
blend); in part, it was because the most popular drinks—Martinis, Manhattans—required no vigorous
mixing for the ingredients to meld. What’s more, without the little bubbles shaking introduces, these
drinks take on a heavy, silky texture that is most pleasing to the palate.

Truth be told, though, in part it was also because the bartenders didn’t want to be seen breaking a sweat.
In any case, this time the old toddy stick was out, except in making Old Fashioneds, where everything had
to be done the old-fashioned way, and the new barspoon was in—more or less the same long-handled
spoon we know today, with its small bowl and twisted handle. This allowed drinks to be mixed with a
simple and effortless-looking motion of the wrist, very cool.

The European barspoon differs from the American one in that it has a flat, muddling disc on the end of
the handle. This was originally a French design, the disc being used for crushing sugar to make eau sucrée
or sugar-water, popular in the nineteenth century.

The Jigger
Great bartenders have always recognized the importance of accurate measuring, particularly when it
comes to making complex cocktails. Originally, bartenders used standard glassware for this purpose. The
base measure was a “wineglass,” by which was meant a V-shaped, stemmed sherry glass that held about 2
ounces or 60-ml. Backing this up was the 1 ounce/30-ml liqueur glass, or “pony.” These glasses were
inconsistent in size and easily broken.

Sometime around 1870, somebody had the bright idea of replicating the little conical sherry glass in
metal, so it could be stamped out at a consistent size and wouldn’t break. Before long, somebody else
took this “jigger”—a word that basically meant “whatchamacallit”—and mounted it back-to-back with a
pony-sized version. Done, or at least almost done: the standard 2 ounce/60-ml size proved too large for
some bars, and by the early twentieth century, these were also being made in 1 ½ ounce/45ml and 1 ¼
ounce/37 ml sizes. Bartenders should make certain that jiggers crafted by different companies are uniform
in their precise measurements. This means that when you have two or more styles of jiggers in your bar,
you make sure that all, say, ½ ounce jiggers are indeed precisely one-half ounce. Test your jiggers for
accuracy.

Juicers
We won’t get into the history of the juicer here beyond observing that the modern two-handled hand
version has been in use in one form or another for well over a century (the earliest were made of wood or
cast iron and porcelain) and is still the best way to produce juice to order.
Other Tools
These are not of course the only tools a serious mixologist will be familiar with. A truly comprehensive
bar kit will include dozens of other items, from simple things like knives of various sizes, a cherry pitter,
a fine mesh strainer (for drinks with muddled fruit) and a few dasher-topped bitters bottles to more
elaborate items such as cut-glass stirring glasses, an electric blender, a steel whipped-cream canister and a
vacuum filter for bitters making. And, of course, a bottle opener and a lot of bar towels.

The American Bartending Story Starts with Fresh Juices & Essential Mixers
Cocktails don’t just contain spirits, wines and other alcoholic ingredients, of course. Especially these
days. Of the vast profusion of things you’ll find in modern cocktails (think rosemary, unfermented grape
must, homemade rhubarb syrup, pomegranate molasses or home-made grenadine, obscure brands of
bitters), we’ll only deal with the most important here; for the rest, use your imagination (and explore your
local farmers’ market).

Whatever you’re mixing with, always bear in mind that a menu full of interesting recipes will still yield
lousy drinks if they’re executed with subpar ingredients—and that extends to mixers, sweeteners and ice.
A drink is only as good as its weakest ingredient. The Golden Rule of hospitality states “never serve
anything you wouldn’t drink yourself,” and any establishment with ambitions to true quality will follow
this—not only when it comes to mixers, but also on the back bar and even in the well.

A comprehensive survey of mixers would include everything from carbonated soft drinks to exotic
tropical fruits to the right way to rim a glass with bacon, but it would also take up hundreds of pages.
We’ll confine ourselves to the core essentials.

Fresh Juice Basics

If there’s one sign of a quality bar, it’s the use of fresh citrus juices. Sour mix cannot yield a top-notch
drink—it doesn’t taste fresh and the fact that it’s pre-sweetened makes it difficult to use with other sweet
ingredients without making the drinks syrupy. Drinks made with fresh juices taste brighter, cleaner and
infinitely more appetizing. Without exception, though, drinks that employ fresh lemon and lime juice
require more training and attention than any other single category of cocktail. Below are steps that make it
easier to implement and maintain a
successful fresh juice program.

Not every kind of juice needs to be made in-house. Most bars in cities of any size have access to
purveyors who sell fresh-squeezed orange and grapefruit juice by the gallon, half gallon or liter and they
are very acceptable. But they are not pasteurized and without proper handling they will spoil rapidly.
They must be delivered cold, put away immediately, and kept refrigerated until used. Unlike fresh-
squeezed orange and grapefruit juices, fresh squeezed lemon and lime juice are not as successful when
purchased.

To begin with, the manager or food and beverage controller should cost out the drinks made with fresh
fruit and fruit juices to determine the appropriate portion size and arrive at a price that reflects your
desired cost of sales.

Then purchase a Sunkist commercial juicer (very efficient and very powerful) or a similar commercial
juicer. In a smaller bar, a castaluminum hand-powered Ra Chand juicer (the kind with a big, spring-
loaded lever) or even simple hand-juicers may be sufficient. The next step is a training session with
bartenders and bar backs. It’s crucial that managers and supervisors be present for all training sessions, to
demonstrate commitment to the program and be on hand to deal with any problems. Outline the program
from beginning to end and taste everyone on drinks made with fresh juice against drinks made with the
mix; the logic of the change will become very clear to all.
 •   Squeeze only room temperature juice. Cold fruit gives less juice, and that’s a lot of money at the
end of the year.
•   When squeezing the juice use a fine kitchen strainer such as a chinois to remove the pulp – this is
not breakfast. Cocktails will look better without the pulp, and it will dry on the inside of glasses
and barware; washing will be a nightmare if you don’t strain. Straining will also allow the use of
bottles and speed pourers to dispense the juice. Glass pitchers are elegant but require some extra
attention to handling.
•   The amounts to be squeezed must be determined by the business on different days. Fresh juice
can be used at most for three services: lunch, dinner and the following lunch, but even then only
if it is constantly under refrigeration. After three services, it must be discarded. Old juice quickly
becomes bitter and will affect drink quality dramatically. A good rule for preparation of fresh
juices is date the containers—or, best of all, never use juice beyond the day it was squeezed!
•   The bartenders cannot keep the juice on the speed rack. It must be refrigerated.
•   If there is consistently juice left at the end of an evening you are overproducing; this can be
expensive, so the amounts must be reviewed frequently.

Finally, the most important aspect of the program is training the bartenders in the recipes that employ the
fresh juice. They may have to taste the drinks with straws to check for balance before serving them
(simply dip the end of a sip- stick into the drink, cover the other end with your thumb and bring it to your
mouth; release your thumb and you’ll get a drop of the drink; customers find this attention to quality very
impressive).

It’s also worth noting that many modern bars are moving towards squeezing juices to order with hand
juicers. To use a hand juicer, flip the device open and place the fruit in it cut-side down. Hold the holes in
the bottom of the juicer right over the mixing glass and firmly squeeze the two halves together; don’t
squeeze too fast or you’ll get juice squirting out of the sides. For this to work efficiently, your recipes
must be calibrated so that they call for the juice of a half or a whole of an average specimen of the fruit in
question. (Note that if the fruit is exceptionally dry or juicy, you will have to compensate for that.)

Ice Basics
Without ice, there is no cocktail. Unfortunately, most bartenders have limited control over this key part of
mixology. The coldest drinks are produced by stirring in a chilled mixing glass full of cubes of ice
straight out of the freezer that have been cracked to order (by breaking the cubes up into smaller pieces,
you add more surface area to the ice; this produces a thick, super-cooled liquid).

The warmest drinks are produced by shaking hard with soft, half melted ice. In an ideal world, all bars
would be supplied with an endless supply of dense, hard cubes of very cold ice and have freezers
underneath the bar in which to keep mixing glasses and cocktail glasses cold, cold, cold. In the real world,
though, bartending is the art of the possible, and soft, melty ice is something you might just have to deal
with.

In general, it’s best to top up your ice bins as frequently as possible with fresh ice; this will keep melting
to a minimum. Not that you want to avoid all melting—25 percent of a properly-mixed cocktail is melted
ice; without this blended-in water, the drink will taste harsh and alcoholic.

Mixologists differ on whether to add the ice to your mixing glass before the other ingredients or after.
There are advantages and disadvantages to both. If you add it before, you avoid splashing spirits around
and you chill the mixing glass a bit; also, this permits options like the In & Out Martini for which you
pour vermouth into the ice-filled glass, swirl it around to season the ice and then dispose of it before
adding the gin or vodka.
On the other hand, adding the ice first makes it impossible to eyeball quantities, thus requiring that jiggers
be used, and also allows extra dilution to occur, sometimes making for a watery drink. Whichever way
you choose, remember that adding the ice is like lighting the fuse on your drink, so if you add it first,
you’ve got to work fast. As a rule, BarSmarts recommends adding the ice last.

Ice isn’t only used in the shaker; unless you’ve got a refrigerator or freezer to chill glasses in, it will also
be used to chill the glass the drink is going into—a cold cocktail plus a warm glass equals a warm
cocktail, and nobody likes that. To chill a cocktail glass, fill it with ice and a little water and let it sit for a
couple of minutes (it’s always a good idea to have some glasses chilling so they can be used as needed).

Ice Not-So-Basics
Now that you’ve got a handle on the role quality ice plays in a cocktail let’s go ahead and take your
knowledge one step further. One of the biggest trends in the industry right now is ice, and the reason is
clear! (Sorry. . .) Here’s why: when bartenders were making drinks back in the cocktail heyday, they were
using large blocks of ice cut from a pond or a river. These blocks of ice were then carved, shaved, crushed
and cut up to make the appropriate ice for the appropriate drink. This ice was perfect for making
cocktails; it was thick and dense and melted very slowly. Our waterways are slightly less pristine than in
Jerry Thomas’ day so you probably don’t want to include river ice in your drinks, no matter how
authentic you are trying to make your bar. But modern ice makers tend to make small brittle cubes that
melt quickly, throwing the classic cocktail proportions out of balance. So frustrated bartenders looked for,
and found, some creative solutions to the problem. Now there are excellent ways to achieve the same
results using modern technology (and involving less algae).

The best machine to make the high-density really cold cubes for drinks is a Kold-Draft machine. It
produces super dense, frigid 1¼ inch cubes that make for a great drink either shaken or on the rocks. The
cubes can be hit with a tool called an ice tapper to make shards of ice to cool down a cocktail quicker.
They are also great for making crushed ice with a special sack called a Lewis bag. This sack is made from
thick canvas and when it is filled with cubes and given some good whacks with a wooden mallet, it
produces the perfect crushed ice for making drinks like the Swizzle or Mint Julep. If you already are
working with your owner or manager to sign off on such a pricy piece of equipment. There are a few
things a creative bartender can do on their own for less investment that can still set their bar program
apart.

Bartenders are freezing giant blocks of ice in industrial freezers to carve their own giant cubes and spears,
and to break down into all the types of ice that are called for. If you want to do this and your bar or
restaurant has a deep freezer you should use either filtered or distilled water to start. A clean plastic Lexan
container is a good vessel for the ice. Fill the container with water and make sure you cover the water
with plastic wrap so that it doesn’t absorb any smells from the freezer as it chills. The bigger the
container, the longer it will take to freeze.

When it is completely frozen, bring it out of the freezer and allow it to melt, or “temper” slightly before
removing it from the Lexan. Place it on a giant cutting board and carefully begin experimenting with such
tools as ice tappers, ice picks and Lewis bags. It might take a while to find your groove with it, but it
should be fun getting there.

Another option to consider is silicone ice trays. These also produce clear, dense cubes and aren’t quite as
dangerous as the kind of ice you need to carve away at with a knife. They are inexpensive, easy to find
online and come in many shapes and sizes. As long as you have a freezer of any size where you work,
you can produce at least some ice for your shift in this fashion. The downside to these is that you would
need a whole lot of them to produce enough ice for an entire shift. Consider purchasing some that make 2
or 3 inch cubes of ice, (or even ice spheres!) and keep those on hand in a sealed container for when
someone orders a drink on the rocks. They make a stunning visual impression and melt much more
slowly than regular ice-keeping the dilution ratio right where you want it. No one likes a watered down
Glenlivet.

Remember when using these that the same rule applies as with the larger homemade blocks: filtered or
distilled water to start, plastic wrap on top while freezing and storage in sealable plastic bags to keep
odors out after they have frozen.

Sugar/Simple Syrup Basics

There are few more contentious topics among mixologists than how much sugar to put into drinks. Palates
differ vastly, and a drink that is too sour to one person will be unbearably sweet to another. If your
establishment hosts experienced cocktail drinkers and wine/food mavens, you should probably aim for
what can be termed “minimum necessary sweetness,” where there will be just enough sugar in a drink to
roll the sharp edge off of tart ingredients and add body, but not so much that the drink gets thick and
candied. In high-volume bars, though, it’s safer to aim for “maximum acceptable sweetness,” where a
drink will have enough sugar to completely blunt a sour edge and damp the fire of the liquor, but still not
so much that it becomes sticky.

For most drinks, bartenders prefer simple syrup to granulated sugar or lump sugar. Syrup dissolves more
quickly and never leaves residual grains. A light syrup, composed of equal parts (by volume) water and
superfine or caster sugar, is easy to make. Half fill a bottle with the sugar, top it off with water and shake
vigorously until the sugar dissolves. Let this settle for a couple of minutes and then shake it again briefly
to dissolve the residual sugar. When substituting this for granulated sugar in a recipe, use at least twice
the quantity called for, if not more.

Many modern mixologists prefer a thicker syrup. This takes a little more work to make. Bring two parts
sugar and one part water to a gentle simmer, stirring frequently. Remove from heat, let cool, and bottle.
(Often, in this thicker syrup demerara sugar is used in place of white sugar; this is known as “rich simple
syrup.”) These syrups will keep for at least a month if refrigerated. Other kinds of sugar—palm sugar,
honey, muscovado sugar, agave nectar—can be and frequently are turned into syrups for bar use. Each
will bring something unique to a drink.

Garnishes
With today’s global economy, we have access to fruits, herbs and vegetables earlier generations of
bartenders could only dream of. Even with this unlimited access, there are still seasonal specials that are
just too expensive or seasonally wrong for year-round use. It is a good idea to have a close working
relationship with your purchasing department or the chef in order to tune into the seasonally changing
produce offerings: summer berries, local cherries, Georgia peaches in season, sweet seedless
watermelons. When choosing produce for your cocktail menus, consider the local products and celebrate
them in your drinks; in other words, have a sense of place.

Lemon and Lime Wedges

When cutting citrus fruit, think of the fruit as having a north and south pole and an equator. The poles are
the stem end and the blossom end and the equator is the band around the widest center part of the fruit.
Lemons and limes should be cut in the following way for wedges. Begin by slicing the very ends off the
poles of the lemon; cut about an 1/8 inch off each nub. Cutting too deeply will ruin the wedge shape. Cut
the fruit in half lengthwise through the poles and lay both halves face down on the cutting board. Cut at a
45 degree angle, creating three wedges, and then do the same with the other half. If there are lots of seeds,
make an additional slight cut along the apex of the triangle formed by the wedge and the seeds will brush
away with a swipe of the knife blade. Cut lemons will remain fresh for two days; limes will oxidize
overnight and turn brown at the edges.

Lemon and Orange Twists

The more drinks you mix, the more you will come to appreciate what the few tiny drops of lemon oil (or
orange oil) extracted from a proper twist will do for a drink. Floating on top as they do, they’re the first
thing your customers will smell as the drink approaches their mouths subtly announcing that it’s fresh,
clean and wholesome. An additional advantage is that the oil in the citrus peel can be flamed, if desired
(see section 3.24 below).

Most bars, however, cut their twists narrow and deep, getting the pith and not much skin. These are easy
to cut and easy to snap over the drink, but they don’t add a whole lot to it. Far better to shave off a wide
strip of the outer peel; this will give you plenty of oil. You can take full advantage of this unique quality
by preparing citrus twists in the following way. Always use firm fresh lemons or oranges; if the oil in the
skin is depleted the flame effect will not work, but most of all, the drink will not benefit from the intense
flavor of the oil.

Only use the following technique if you have experience with knives. Hold a paring or fruit knife with the
blade facing you. Grasp a lemon firmly with your fingers on the lower half, so they will be clear of the
top surface you will be cutting. Begin at the top of the fruit and carefully draw the knife toward you,
cutting a thin oval shaped peel 2 inches (5 cm) by 1 inch (2.5 cm) long. The peel should be thin enough
that the yellow or orange shows all around the circumference with just a small amount of white pith
visible in the center.

If you’re unsure about using sharp knives, you might want to consider using an Oxo-brand replaceable-
blade swivel peeler (you want a replaceable blade because they go dull pretty quickly, and a dull blade is
dangerous and ineffective). Simply grasp the fruit and turn it into the blade, letting the blade glide just
under the surface. With a little practice, you can peel a lemon or an orange in one continuous spiral in less
than 20 seconds, yielding enough twists for fifteen or twenty drinks. Once cut, the ragged edges the peeler
makes can be easily cleaned up with a knife.

Flaming Twists
You can create a festive pyrotechnical display for your guests with the oil present in the skin of lemons
and oranges. The fruit should be firm and fresh to ensure there is enough oil present in the skin. To flame
the oil, hold a lit match in one hand and pick up the twist in the other hand as if holding an eggshell; if
you squeeze the twist prematurely, the oil will be expelled. Hold the twist by the sides, not the ends,
between thumb and forefinger, skin side facing down toward the drink, about four inches above the drink.
Don’t squeeze or you’ll lose all the oil before you flame. Hold the match between the drink and the twist,
closer to the twist. Snap the twist sharply, propelling the oil through the lit match and onto the surface of
the drink. (Be sure to hold twist far enough from the drink to avoid getting a smoky film on the glass or
on the surface of the drink.)

Orange Slices
Choose fresh, thick-skinned navel oranges. Cut both ends of the poles of the orange far enough to expose
the fruit; note that some oranges have an inch or more of pith before you actually reach the fruit. Next, cut
the orange in half lengthwise, through the poles, then place both halves flat side down on a cutting board
and cut ¼ inch (5-mm) slices, following the line of the equator, not from pole to pole. When you combine
one of these orange slices with a maraschino cherry, you have the famous “flag”—a popular garnish for
Collins and sours. The flag is strictly an American garnish; in Europe the bartenders garnish sours and
Collins drinks with a lemon peel.
Mint
When choosing mint, find springy, young mint. Some varieties are more suited to garnish and beverage
applications. Spearmint leaves have good shape and construction and hold up well as garnish. Avoid
elephant ear mint, that is mint with large floppy leaves, because they look wilted on top of a drink. To
prepare mint for garnish, cut the stalks off from the bottom, so you have about a 5-inch stem with leaves
on the top.

The top half will be the attractive new growth or sprigs and they will make up the garnish for the drink.
The leaves on the stalk below the sprig and on the stalk that you cut away are stripped off and used for
shaking or bruising in the drink. The mint leaves and sprigs should be stored in water and refrigerated.
Don’t store mint in water overnight, though: remove it from the water, wrap it in a paper towel and place
it in the refrigerator in a Ziploc bag.

After muddling or shaking mint in a drink (and if you shake it, shake it gently so that it doesn’t
disintegrate and make the drink bitter), strain the drink through both the Hawthorne and the julep strainer
(placed over the glass that will hold the drink) to remove most of the bits of mint that are floating in it.
When muddling, it’s not necessary to shred the mint; it’s far better to merely bruise the leaves to extract
flavor. A mint garnish on top of a drink should look generous and bushy. Drinks garnished with mint
should be served with straws.

Cocktail Olives
Don’t skimp on olives: they are very important to the Martini drinker. Classically they should be small
pitted Spanish cocktail olives (Manzanilla are best) without pimento. . . good ones are hard to find. Sadly,
there is a large contingent of Martini drinkers who insist on giant olives, and this is the result of the
ridiculously large steakhouse martini glasses that are WRONGLY all the rage now. It’s necessary to stock
two sizes of olives. No matter the size, the most important thing is to keep them cold. A Martini is ruined
by dropping in three large, or even small, warm olives!

Maraschino Cherries
Made from fresh, sweet cherries that have been processed and packed in high fructose corn syrup along
with red food coloring and flavoring additives, maraschinos are used as a drink garnish and often crown
piles of whipped cream or ice cream. Unfortunately, these are usually the only game in town.

There are several nutty Italian liqueurs that might make a good base for marinating fresh cherries;
Amaretto is the first to come to mind (perhaps blended with some Maraschino liqueur), so when the
cherries are plentiful and inexpensive, load up and make your own. Sable & Rosenfeld is the least
offensive American brand on the market. Luxardo, in Italy, makes superior maraschino cherries, but these
are far closer to the origins of this modern monstrosity, which were simply sour marasca cherries
macerated in the maraschino liqueur distilled from them.

Garnish Storage
•   Cut limes will oxidize quickly and should be discarded at the end of the day, so don’t over-cut.
•   Cut lemons can be stored for two days. Cover them with a damp bar cloth and refrigerate.II
•   Orange slices should be examined at the end of the day. If they’re in good shape, cover them with
a damp bar cloth and refrigerate overnight.
•   Orange and lemon twists should be discarded at the end of the shift.
•   Mint should be stored between damp paper towels and refrigerated. Any wilted or brown sprigs
must be discarded.
Bitters
The final classic cocktail ingredient is found in a dusty, crusty little bottle with the big paper label that’s
usually lurking somewhere on the back bar. Bitters are an old-time cocktail essential that was once on the
brink of extinction.

They are now enjoying a healthy comeback. Made by steeping various barks, roots, flowers and such in
alcohol and letting them age, the result is a liquid far too bitter and pungent to drink straight.

However, when used carefully by the dash (1 to 3 dashes per drink is the normal dose), bitters don’t make
the drink bitter, as one might think, but rather they help other flavors to blend. In a properly balanced
drink, the customer shouldn’t really notice their presence but would notice their absence. In general,
bitters are used more in drinks based on spirits modified by fortified wines and liqueurs than they are in
drinks with citrus or other sour ingredients. Tartness intensifies bitterness and citrus and bitters can
magnify each other to the point of imbalance.

There are three kinds of bitters in common use, Angostura, Peychaud’s and orange (there are several
brands of these). Recent years have brought us a plethora of new types to play with as well, all worth
checking out (look for the many interesting ones from The Bitter Truth), but these three are the mainstays,
and a good bar will carry all of them (a truly cutting-edge bar will carry as many as ten or fifteen kinds,
many of them house-made). You should consider putting them where they’re visible, since there’s no
better way of signaling your customers that you’re prepared to make serious cocktails.

Angostura bitters: From Trinidad, this ancient brand is by far the biggest and most versatile; with an
impossibly complex flavor profile built upon a rum base, Angostura bitters blend particularly well with
other strong flavors—rye whiskey, dark rum, gin.

Peychaud’s bitters: Another old brand, Peychaud’s bitters display pleasing black-cherry-and-anise notes
that blend particularly well with cognac and whiskey.

Orange bitters: Orange bitters marry a concentrated orange-peel tang with a bitter edge. The original
recipe for a Dry Martini called for equal parts gin and white vermouth, with a dash of orange bitters.
There are four brands in general circulation, the more orangey Fee’s West Indian Orange Bitters, the more
bitter Regans’ Orange Bitters No 6, the balanced but intense Angostura Orange Bitters and the balanced
but less intense The Bitter Truth. Some drinks work better with one brand and others with another, so it’s
worth tracking down all four (many American mixologists actually prefer a half-and-half mix of Fee’s
and Regans’. )

MODULE IV
Module 4 - Service Management & Cocktail Recipes
Classic Bar Tool Techniques
If one compares the master chef to the excellent home cook, one of the greatest things separating them is
the professional’s mastery of a broad range of tools, from the most basic—the chef’s knife—to the most
specialized: if a particular task demands an unusual tool, the chef will know what to look for and how to
use it.

It’s the same thing with mixing drinks: a true professional will have mastered the Boston shaker—the
“bartender’s chef ’s knife,” as Dale DeGroff likes to call it—and its accessories, but will also be
comfortable with a whole range of special-purpose devices, from vegetable peelers and tea strainers to
cherry pitters, egg separators and soda siphons.

If, for the purposes of this content, BarSmarts is sticking to the basics, that doesn’t mean we don’t
encourage you to explore and experiment: every item in the basic bar kit is there because some
anonymous bartender wanted to do something that the tools on hand wouldn’t let him. (A hint: you’ll find
some of the best bartenders hanging around kitchen supply stores.)

Measuring
Before you get your shaker working, you’ve got to fill it up, and that means measuring. Most
contemporary bartenders are taught that the only way to mix drinks is by pouring the ingredients straight
from the bottle into the mixing glass, either counting as they pour or simply eyeballing the results. In the
hands of the most talented, experienced and conscientious bartenders (ones who have mixed every
conceivable drink and know exactly what a half-ounce, or 15 ml and every other common quantity looks
like in their glass), this works just fine.

The path toward mastery here lies in memorizing what measured quantities of water look like in your
mixing glass (always measure before adding ice). Once this is mastered, you have to size your drinks. To
do this, first assemble the various glasses into which your drinks will be strained. For each, you’ll have to
determine how much water it takes to fill it when that water has been shaken up with ice.

You may have to test several quantities for each glass, but in general, it’s a rule of thumb that shaking
with ice increases a drink’s volume by 25 percent (this will vary with the length and force of your shake
or stir and the kind of ice used).

When you find the fill level in the shaker glass for each of the serving glasses, make a mental note (like a
sort of imaginary mark on the side of the mixing glass) that corresponds to each serving glass. Soon
you’ll be able to hit the mark with surprising accuracy.

This could be the most important skill a professional bartender masters. A bartender who cannot judge the
amount of liquor necessary to properly fill the different bar glasses will throw away dozens of bottles
worth of liquor a year.

Of course if you work in a bar that utilizes jiggers for all the drinks this technique is unnecessary (note
that most of the elite cocktail bars in New York, San Francisco and London use them).

Jiggers are available in several sizes; the most useful are the 1 ½ ounce x ¾ ounce and the 1 ounce by ½
oz. sizes, although it never hurts to have a full range. In some countries, there is a legally mandated jigger
size that must be accommodated; that can make the basic math of drink-mixing challenging.
With these on hand and a standard barspoon for the smaller quantities, it’s quick work to precisely
measure out just about any quantity of anything you’ll need in a drink. Barspoons do range in size,
though, from the ones used in the nineteenth century, which hold 1/5 of an ounce (6 ml) to the standard
red-tipped American ones (1/6 of an ounce, or 5 ml) to the smaller Japanese type favored by modern
bartenders, which hold 1/8 of an ounce (3.5 ml). We suggest you see how many spoonfuls from your
barspoon of choice it takes to fill up a 1-ounce jigger and adjust your recipes accordingly.

With a little practice, there’s very little, if any, loss in speed, and much greater accuracy and consistency
between drinks; this is particularly important when dealing with today’s specialty cocktails, many of
which feature strongly or unusually flavored ingredients where just a few milliliters can be the difference
between delicious and disgusting. Most customers will appreciate the care going into the preparation of
their drink.

The Boston Shaker and Its Use

The Boston shaker set takes a little practice but offers more versatility than the three-piece or cobbler-
style shaker. The choice of virtually all professional bartenders these days, it consists of two tumblers.
One tumbler, about 26 to 30 ounces (750-900 ml) in size, is metal; the other half is a 16-ounce (half liter)
pint glass (occasionally these can be found in a larger size). When the metal is placed on top of the glass,
they fit snugly together to form a sealed container.

The Boston shaker works best in a commercial setting for many reasons. For one, the ingredients are
poured into the glass portion, which allows the customer to view the drink as it is being made and you to
check (or double-check) the amount of each ingredient by sight. This is of course essential if mixing by
eye. Equally important, the Boston shaker is cheap, and the parts are interchangeable--that is, you don’t
have to fumble around for the right top to fit the shaker; almost any glass and mixing tin will fit together.

When buying a Boston Shaker, you may need to buy the pieces separately. If possible, buy the glass
portion first and look for one that has a “T” on the bottom. It stands for “tempered.” This allows the unit
to be chilled to freezing when shaken, then plunged into hot water without cracking. When shopping for a
metal half, bring the glass portion of your shaker with you. Before purchasing it, place the glass on a table
and put the metal portion of the set on top. Use the heel of your palm to hit the bottom of the upturned
metal shaker. This should create a tight seal, allowing you to pick up the two parts as a single unit. If a
seal does not form, shop around for a different metal tumbler.

Shaking with the Boston Shaker

Now, to shake. Begin by building your drink in the mixing glass. Add ice (don’t skimp) and then place
the mixing tin over the glass, which should remain resting on the bar. Hold the glass part firmly and make
a seal by giving the upturned end of the metal part a couple of quick taps with the heel of your free hand
(don’t jam it down too hard). The seal should now be tight (an excellent and elegant way of checking this
is to attempt to pick the whole thing up holding only the mixing tin; if there is a seal, this will work; if
not, it won’t; so go slowly).

Now turn the whole thing over so that the glass is on top and get ready to shake. You’re doing this so that
if the seal breaks as you’re shaking (it has been known to happen) that Sidecar will spray all over you and
the back bar behind you, not the customers in front of you (sometimes you’ve got to take a hit in the
service of hospitality). Bearing that in mind, this is a good time to give the glass an extra tap with the heel
of your hand to insure a seal.

Remember, the shaker is a piston; it’s going to travel up and down quite a bit in the time it’s in action, so
it had better be held firmly. Grip the tin in the palm of one hand and the glass with the other, curling your
thumb over the top (that’s just one way to grip it; experienced bartenders will eventually figure out the
way that works best for them). Now work out! Shake your cocktails vigorously to a slow count of ten—in
most cases, more than that isn’t necessary and will lead to over dilution. Drinks with eggs in them are an
exception and must be shaken longer (shake to a count of twenty) and harder to completely emulsify the
egg.

Less than that, and your customer has got a warm, limp drink, and nobody wants that. Sour and fruity
cocktails, the kind you shake (we’ll get to the other kind in a minute) should be alive and effervescent;
you shake them to wake them up, not to put them to sleep! What’s more, a lame shake is a bad show.
Remember, for that drink, at that moment, you are the show. Work on it. The style doesn’t happen
overnight.

Finally, if you don’t have a hambone in your body, you may be in the wrong profession. Rhythm saves
the world.

Breaking the Seal on the Boston Shaker

Once you’re done shaking, you’ll have to get the liquid out of there. Shaking with ice lowers the air
temperature inside the shaker, creating a vacuum, which means that the seal between glass and tin may be
difficult to break. Whatever you do, for God’s sake don’t bang the shaker on the edge of the bar! It looks
unprofessional, dents the bar and can cause the glass to break—particularly bad if it happens over the ice
bin. Instead, grasp the shaker—still metal-side down—firmly, with one hand, covering the join between
the glass and tin, so that you can control them both.

Point the fingers of the other hand skyward and, with the heel of the hand, sharply strike the top part of
the mixing tin at approximately the spot where the rim of the glass is nestled inside it. The seal should
break. If not, rotate the shaker slightly and try again. Continue to rotate if necessary, and you will find the
sweet spot that will break the seal. Like everything in life, this comes with practice. But when you’ve
mastered it, it will become immediately clear to everybody who sees you in action that they’re dealing
with a true professional!

Finally, since coldness is everything when it comes to cocktails, particularly Martinis, some bars
guarantee this by chilling their mixing glasses, either by filling them with ice and letting them sit or
(better) keeping them under refrigeration or (best) in a freezer. Some fine bars use a smaller
mixing tin in place of the mixing glass for shaking, thus going for a Boston shaker where both parts are
metal, whose lower thermal energy absorbs less of the chilling power of the ice (two-part silver-plated
Boston shakers used to be a standard item in fancy bars, particularly in the United Kingdom). These bars
will, of course, use jiggers, as eyeballing is not an option.

The Barspoon and Its Use

Before you begin stirring, if you’re using the one-piece, American-style bar spoon, Dale DeGroff
recommends putting a slight bend in the stem about 1½ inches behind the bowl, so that if you stand it on
end with the bowl up, it resembles a thin man bowing. This may sound somewhat involved just to stir a
Martini, but the bend will allow you to stir over the center of the glass, your hand remaining stationary
while your fingers and spoon do all the work. The heavy, European-style spoon will not easily bend, so
this step can be omitted. You can still stir gracefully with it, although you might have to experiment with
your grip a bit.

Stirring
Now, to stir. Hold the spoon between the forefinger and thumb with the shaft resting against the inside of
the second finger. Slide the back of the spoon down the inside of the mixing glass to the bottom. The back
of the spoon will rotate around the inside of the mixing glass and the stem of the spoon will push the ice
ahead so that liquid and ice rotate gracefully in a clockwise direction.
Be sure not to thrash the liquid around vigorously—like shaking, it will only add air, and it looks terrible.
Graceful stirring is essential in order to achieve the style and ceremony with which these drinks should be
prepared, and will insure that heavy, silky texture. The actual stirring requires a two-part movement; in
the first half of the movement, the forefinger and thumb pull the spoon clockwise half way around to the
six o’clock position and then the second finger (supported by the third and fourth) pushes the shaft of the
spoon around the rest of the way to the twelve o’clock position and then the pull/push process begins
again.

This process will become fluid with practice and seem like one single motion. But to practice, break it
down to two motions to get the feel. Eventually the motion will be so smooth the shaft of the spoon will
actually rotate in your hand as you push the ice and liquid around as a unit in the shaker glass and your
hand will remain almost in the same spot above the glass as the spoon does all the work.

If you’re using a straight-handled spoon, grip it with the thumb, forefinger and index finger, slide the
bowl down the side of the glass and pump it up and down—firmly, but not frantically—with an up and
down oval motion of the wrist. This will get the ice swirling around to do the actual mixing.
There are other effective ways to grip the spoon: for example, some like to hold it between the thumb and
ring finger on one side of the shaft and the index and middle on the other. You may have to experiment to
find the way that works best for you.

If the bar has large dense very cold cubes, stir fifty times; if the cubes are the smaller, wetter, warmer
variety, stir only thirty times to avoid too much dilution. Remember, whether stirring or shaking, the
drink can only get as cold as the ice, so the colder and denser your ice, the colder the
drink will become.

Note: Many young bartenders choose to use the handle of the spoon to stir because it is so much easier to
stir rapidly that way. It’s far better to take the time to learn proper stirring technique, not least because
nobody likes to see the handle of a spoon that may have had somebody’s dirty mitts all over it suddenly
thrust into their Martini. If you absolutely must, use a stirring rod or even a chopstick instead; that way at
least the customer won’t think of finger germs in his or her drink.

The Strainer and Its Use

Once your drink is mixed, you’ve got to get it off the ice and into your customer’s glass. This means that
you’ll need a strainer, or rather, two strainers: a julep strainer for drinks stirred in the mixing glass and a
Hawthorne strainer for shaken drinks, which are poured from the mixing tin. Be sure the Hawthorne
strainer you purchase is round and has four tabs, rather than two, because the latter tends to fall into the
shaker instead of sitting securely on top. (In some countries and parts of the U.S., the Hawthorne is the
only kind available; not to worry, it works acceptably in the mixing glass as well as the tin, although you
have to make sure the solid part is drawn back a bit from the edge of the glass so that it doesn’t block the
liquid coming out.)

•   To strain the drink, grasp the glass or tin between the thumb and second finger of your pouring
hand with the forefinger over the top of the strainer, holding it in place (if using the julep strainer,
position it within the mixing glass so that its concave side is facing down).
•   When straining into a Martini or cocktail glass, pour the liquid in a circular motion, delicately
swirling it around the sides of the glass to avoid spillage. The final motion should be a sharp snap
of the wrist to punctuate the ceremony and draw attention to the drink. As with everything you
do, this should be done with a subtle style and flourish.
•   In some situations (large drinks and tippy glasses), it’s a good idea to steady the glass that will
receive the drink with your other hand.
If you’re straining a drink that has a lot of fruit muddled into it, you may have to double strain. The
simplest way to do this is to strain from the mixing tin through the Hawthorne strainer, placing the julep
strainer over the glass you’re straining into to catch any loose pulp or seeds. When working with
something that has a lot of particularly fine bits (not mint, as it should never be shaken so hard that it
blows apart into little shreds), a fine-mesh tea strainer will come in handy.

In some bars the style is to double-strain everything, in order to catch any shards of ice that might
otherwise go into the drink. It should be noted that a proper, tight-coiled Hawthorne should get most of
those (a julep strainer will get all of them), and double straining slows down
service to a significant degree.

The Muddler and Its Use

The muddler is a most versatile tool. You can use the handle (the round end) for cracking ice and the
business end (the flat, knobby end) for everything from lightly pressing mint for a Julep or a Mojito, to
squishing the bejeezus out of lime segments and sugar for a Caipirinha. For anything that needs crushing
above and beyond what is produced by vigorous shaking with ice, the muddler is your instrument of
choice.

Note that the flavor difference between squeezing the juice of a lemon and muddling a lemon is huge.
When citrus fruit is muddled the essential oils in the skin are released into the mixture adding
dramatically more flavor to the drink, but the bitterness of the pith is also extracted.

A muddler should be at least 6 inches (15 cm) long to reach to the bottom of the mixing glass. For some
crazy reason, many muddlers on the market are dyed and/or covered with varnish; these should be
avoided because that dye and varnish will all end up in your customer’s drink. If that’s the only kind you
can get, you’ll need to take some sandpaper to at least the business end.

Modernist Techniques and Contemporary Movements

Once you’ve mastered your ingredients and tools, made every classic cocktail in the book and invented
enough new ones to fill a book of your own, now what? As if in answer to this question, a number of
creative mixologists in places as far afield as London, Paris, New York, Seattle and Sydney, Australia,
have turned their attention recently to the restaurant kitchen, and in particular to the part of it where they
keep the magic tricks.

Just as a few modern chefs have specialized in the art of surprise—in taking familiar foods and radically
altering their textures, extracting their flavors and projecting them into foams and “airs” and even edible
photocopies, deploying palate-shocking taste combinations and a host of other tricks—a handful of
modern mixologists has been adapting this to the bar. The results can be eccentric: savory, meat- flavored
spirits; solid cocktails; drinks that change texture or flavor in mid-sip; cocktails that taste exactly like
favorite foods; so on and so forth. Done properly, the effect is very Willy Wonka. Improperly, it can be
pretentious and weird.

Here’s a glance at some of the major techniques:

Spherification. The most chemistry-class of the techniques in general use. The general idea is to make
liquid-centered little pearls that can float in a drink without dissolving. Clearly, this is not easy, and doing
it requires mixing the liquid you want to make pearls of with one chemical (sodium alginate is common)
and dripping it into a bath of another chemical, such as calcium chloride. Interesting, if limited, and
certainly not for beginners.
Foam. Foams are an interesting way of manipulating texture in a cocktail, and are not too difficult to
execute—indeed, they can be as simple as shaking a little egg white up with the drink, a traditional
bartender’s trick that makes the cocktail opaque and creamy with a frothy head. With a little preparation
and a fairly minimal investment in equipment, you can also make gelatin foams that will allow you to top
a cocktail with an airy mist of flavor. This is an excellent way of garnishing or accenting a drink; See
below for instructions.

Preparing a Gelatin Foam

For our example, we’ll assume you want to top your Sazerac off with an absinthe foam, instead of rinsing
the glass with absinthe.

Put 6 oz. water in a small pan and warm it to 140 degrees Fahrenheit. While this is heating, “bloom” a
sheet of gelatin—available at any specialist cake-supply store—in cold water for two minutes and pat off
excess water. Whisk it into the warm water, add 1 oz. sugar and whisk that in, too. Combine this in a bowl
with 6 oz. Pernod 68 absinthe, 2 oz. simple syrup and 2 oz. water, and whisk it again. Pour this into a
stainless-steel whipped-cream canister, charge it twice—that is, with two nitrous oxide chargers—and
chill it. This will keep for several hours. To use, shake the canister a few times and then gently lay a thick
layer of foam on top of the drink.

Our lawyer’s culinary advice: be extremely careful when cooking with open flames. Keep a fire
extinguisher nearby at all times and do not attempt to cook near other flammable materials.

Fat-Washing. This is a way to flavor any given liquor with a fatty or oily ingredient without making it
greasy (why you would want to do that is another story). Simply take your fried chicken (for example),
cut it into pieces and put it to soak in the liquor of your choice—in this case, let’s say for the sake of
argument, Scotch whisky. After letting it sit for a few hours, you would then put this in the freezer to
coagulate the fats and, after an hour or two, strain off the liquid through filter paper. Some rather unusual
flavors can be created this way.

Infusion. This simply involves soaking fruits, herbs, spices or whatever else you want to extract the
flavor from in liquor and then straining it off. It can be as simple as slicing up a lime and soaking it in a
bottle of Beefeater for two hours or as complicated as making Korean ginseng bitters with twelve
different ingredients, each of which needs to soak for a different amount of time. This is something to
bear in mind when infusing: as a rule of thumb, the higher the proof of the spirit, the more flavor it will
extract, and longer is not always better when it comes to infusing time. Some things—citrus peel, for
instance—give up their flavor very quickly and turn bitter in a long infusion. Be prepared to try things
over and over.

Vacuum distillation. This requires a “roto-vap,” which is a very expensive piece of laboratory
equipment, that distills liquids at near room temperature by spinning them in a flask under vacuum
suction. It is best used for redistilling spirit-based infusions, but it can also perform such tricks as
removing the color and woodiness from an old whiskey or the sugar from a liqueur. It can even be used to
distill cocktails. Fun.

Other methods include freeze-drying, candying, condensing and whatever else a fertile brain, a lot of
patience and a hefty equipment budget can come up with. Molecular mixology is many things, but quick
and cheap are not among them.
Creating Drink Menus and Food Matching
Drink Menus
People don’t walk into a restaurant and simply order what they want off the top of their heads, yet for
decades this was the norm in even the best bars. That’s not the case anymore. Nowadays, you need a
drinks list—a menu of cocktails, other mixed drinks and sipping spirits that jump-starts your customers’
choices. More than that, though, it displays the skill and creativity of your mixologists and advertises the
philosophy and desired image of your bar or restaurant. In this section, we’ll look at some of the things
you’ve got to take into account when assembling this.

Menu Fundamentals
Formal cocktail and spirits menus are an excellent way of educating consumers about the choices an
establishment offers and are a sign of seriousness; as with food menus, cocktail menus should be placed
in front of customers at arrival; spirits menus are generally presented with the dessert menu (of course,
many establishments will combine both).

A cocktail or spirits menu doesn’t have to be extensive—in fact, it’s better to be concise; who wants to
have to read a book before ordering a drink? Compiling a menu of eight to sixteen great drinks gives you
a chance to market drinks that move in your bar, but it also gives you a chance to reach more guests with
esoteric cocktails that are great but neglected. A smaller menu will attract more eyes, and you may
actually have a chance to introduce the neophyte to a Pisco Sour or a Sazerac.

A short list has the additional advantage of flexibility—it can be changed often to reflect sales realities,
new ideas and seasonal offerings. Whatever size menu you go with, nobody needs a list that simply
repeats the popular drinks of the day. Ideally, it should offer some combination of selections from the
following categories, taking into account the theme or concept of the establishment.

Classics and Forgotten Classics

It’s mandatory to have two or three historical benchmarks on the list (e.g., a Manhattan, a Daiquiri and/or
a Sidecar) in order to give people a way of favorably comparing your establishment to lesser bars. It’s
always nice to supplement these with some so-called “Forgotten Classics,” drinks that aren’t as well-
known but still have a history worth telling.

All of these can be made strictly according to recipe, or they can be graced with a modern spin, but if they
are spun, they should be spun intelligently—(i.e., don’t replace crème de menthe with cheapo peppermint
schnapps, but with home-infused mint syrup.) When choosing Forgotten Classics, try not to choose the
same ones everybody else is reviving (this may require a little research, but it pays off).

Next Wave
This category includes drinks incorporating new flavors that are coming into the market, such as lavender,
ginger or pomegranate, and using new techniques such as infusion, home pureeing, etc. As in Forgotten
Classics, there’s a danger of me-tooism here. It is, however, an opportunity to show just what you can do.

Non-Alcoholic Choices
Festive and creative non-alcoholic alternatives must be a part of a great beverage program. There ought to
be one or two of those on the menu, and they shouldn’t merely be non-alcoholic versions of current
drinks. They should be designed to be as innovative and clever as any of the standard drinks. Nothing will
win you customers for life more quickly than presenting them with an unusual and tasty nonalcoholic
drink when they ask for one.
Signature Cocktails
Finally, there must be at least one new drink that sums up the whole philosophy of your operation. This
will take inventing; we’ll get into that in the next section.

A Note on Execution and Consistency

The best menu in the world is wishful thinking if the staff cannot execute it in a precise, timely and
consistent fashion. The ability to turn out perfectly-crafted drinks night after night with the same passion
and the same results is the difference between an extraordinary operation and every other place. This will
also speak volumes about the training that is in place and whether it is ongoing.

A drinks list is only as good as the training, tools and ingredients needed to execute it. The impact of a
creative menu can be negative if the guest calls for drinks that are listed but, for whatever reason, the bar
can’t deliver. This means making sure new bartenders are ready to make the drinks before they start
working, it means replacing lost or broken bar tools instantly (nobody likes to hear “well, we can’t make
that one right now because we lost the right-sized jigger”), and it means keeping on top of the ordering
and having backup ingredients chosen should the distributor be out of stock.

Prior to putting the menu in place, meetings between those responsible for purchasing, training, serving
and executing it must take place. A particular area of attention is ensuring consistency between
bartenders. If a customer’s second Mai Tai tastes completely different from the first, which was made by
a different bartender, then the establishment has a problem. Sure, some level of personal variation is
acceptable, but in general all of an establishment’s bartenders should be on the same page. This holds
particularly true with signature drinks or drinks that are on the cocktail menu. The only way to work on
this is through testing; it takes time and uses product, and hence costs money, but it’s worth it in the end.

The Spirits Menu

As long as you’re doing a cocktail menu, why not also have a list of sipping spirits and fortified wines?
It’s an excellent way of showing off some of the more interesting products you carry, and it demonstrates
that you’re paying attention. The list should be weighted toward things you won’t find every day,
although not completely excluding more common and economical brands. In general, it’s best to have one
or two areas of specialization (e.g., aged rums, Speyside single- malt Scotches, Eastern European vodkas,
vintage Madeiras) and offer a few carefully chosen
options in other areas.

Matching Spirits and Cocktails with the Menu

One of the most exciting trends in restaurants and bars today is the concept of matching spirits and
cocktails with food; not just bar snacks, but actually pairing a drink with an item from the menu. The first
step to succeeding at this is to create variations on a theme, using classic cocktails as your guide, and
making these new house drinks work within your establishment’s theme.

Work with the chef to incorporate ingredients that mirror the menu or, at least, enhance the cuisine. When
actually creating the cocktails, incorporate spices, fruits, sauces, flavors and even garnishes that can be
found within the menu itself. Create cocktails that are balanced and appealing, refreshing and delicious
without any food. Keep in mind that crisp acidity in your cocktail is crucial for balance and to inspiring
great food matches.

As with wine, when pairing with the food, consider the components of the food as the building blocks,
and evaluate your cocktail in the same way. The acid is key, and it is the balance of acid to fruit and/or
sweetness that will make or break your match. Textural elements: sweet, salty, sour, bitter or astringent
are the components.
Whether you prefer to seek out similarities in the components or contrasting elements, you absolutely
must be sure to match texture. The richness factor is essential to consider—don’t allow the drink to
overpower the food, or vice versa. Alcohol becomes a major factor. It’s easy to overwhelm a subtle menu
item with a drink that’s too strong. Match high-alcohol cocktails with foods that soften alcohol, such as
shellfish, full-bodied meats, rich sauces, cheese or dairy and sweet desserts. Mixed drinks are usually
easier to match with food because the alcohol has already been softened by the mixers. The very
definition and purpose of a classic cocktail is to soften the alcohol while enhancing the intrinsic qualities
of the spirit so that its flavors shine through the mixer(s). It’s crucial to use quality cocktails when
matching with food, and of course, quality cocktails can only be made with fresh, high-quality
ingredients.

Fried foods, smoked fish, shellfish such as oysters, shrimp, crab or lobster make appealing matches for
aperitif-type cocktails, made with white spirits. These foods will help to buffer popular high-alcohol
cocktails, such as Martinis, Margaritas, Collins, and Cosmopolitans.

Cheese is often overlooked as a match with spirits, particularly with straight spirits. The dairy actually
helps to soften the alcohol, and the texture is quite complementary to cognac, Spanish brandy, Scotch
whisky and some premium liqueurs. These spirits are meant to be savored in a snifter and are appropriate
with the cheese course, after the main course or with sweet or dairy-based desserts. Sugar actually bonds
with the alcohol, softening its impact in the mouth, providing some potentially magical moments at the
end of the meal.

When attempting to match to meat items or main courses, beware the alcohol level of your cocktail: the
alcohol can easily stand out and overpower. It may be wise to serve brown (or oak-aged) spirit-based
cocktails with mixers that add layers of texture and richness while softening the alcoholic impact (e.g., the
Manhattan). After matching textures and finding interesting component contrasts or similarities that offer
enhancement of the drink and the food, you can begin to play around with the flavors.

It may be necessary at first to take baby steps: try just one or two appetizers, and choose items that sound
as appealing as they taste, or begin with the easiest area, the dessert menu. The key, as always, is to earn
your customer’s trust, and you may find that easier to accomplish at the
end of the meal.

Batching and Preparation

Not all the drinks you will be called upon to make in your career will be served in bars, particularly if
your commitment to quality starts to get noticed. Charity events, cocktail tastings, Prohibition parties,
cocktail dinners—the opportunities to bring the gospel of proper mixology before the public are ever-
expanding. That’s the plus side. The minus side is that for most of these you’ll be required to work under
field conditions, where more often than not you’ll be shown to a catering table and have an hour or so to
turn it into a bar.

In general, under these conditions, you’ll be serving one or two cocktails, which you’ll have pre-batched
so that all you’ll be doing is shaking (or stirring) them and adding garnish. Occasionally, for particularly
complex drinks, you may have to do a little more assembly. While batching up cocktails is, for the most
part, a matter of common sense, here are some tips for making it work.

Preparing for the Event: Things to Remember

•   Don’t try to do too much. Pick something you know you’ll be able to execute no matter how busy
things get.
 •   When preparing an ordering list for what you’ll need, make sure to specify everything, no matter
how trivial. If it’s not on the list, you won’t have it at the event.
•   Assume the venue will have no tools, containers or pantry items not specified on your ordering
list, no matter how sincerely they assure you to the contrary.
•   The basic tools you’ll need: store & pour containers of various sizes for batching and storing the
drink, measuring cups, a good juicer, ladles, glass pitchers for ready use (the drinks should not be
poured into the shaker straight from the large storage containers), bowls for garnish, ice scoops.
•   If at all possible, squeeze your own juice. Many a venue has insisted that their juice is fresh when
it isn’t.
•   Bring a bunch of bar rags and a funnel. Both come in handy.

Mixing the Drinks

•   Taste everything and be prepared to adjust.
•   One 750ml bottle will supply the base spirit for 12 large drinks, 18 medium ones or 24 tastes.
•   Approximately 70 dashes of bitters make 1 ounce.
•   Drinks containing only stable ingredients such as spirits, liqueurs, vermouth, sugar and bitters can
be batched far in advance.
•   Alcohol and sugar will retard the spoilage of citrus, which means that drinks containing all three
can be batched as much as three or four hours before being used, although they should be kept
refrigerated or on ice as much as possible.
•   Dairy products —cream, milk, egg white —must be added at the last minute possible (although
for drinks such as the Ramos Fizz, the egg white and cream can be combined and kept
separately).
•   Even complex drinks with delicate components, such as mint, which must be added at the last
minute, can still be simplified by breaking them down into subcomponents and batching up the
stable parts.
•   In large quantities, citrus juice appears to increase in sourness; this means that it’s always a good
idea to add less of it than your formula calls for, taste and adjust up.
•   To empty a liquor bottle faster, upend it over your batching container and swirl it around rapidly
in a tight little circle. This should create a vortex inside that will flush out the contents in record
time. When you’re hauling ass to get ready for an event, every second counts.

Serving the Drinks

Each person serving the batched drinks will need a shaker and a strainer and access to a container of ice
and an empty container to dump the spent ice in. If more than one drink is being offered, a container full
of warm water will be needed for rinsing the mixing gear.

Service Basics: Courtesy and Efficiency

A true education in service—which is by far the most important part of a bartender’s job—can be gained
only through firsthand experience. That said, here are some tried-and-true basic principles.

Your Job
If the owner sets the establishment’s tone, the bartender projects it to the clientele. If the bar is the engine
of the establishment, and it is (both economically and in terms of energy), then the bartender is the
engineer. But the bartender is lots of things to lots of different people, and the person who does that job
has to be at peace with that role and secure in his (by which we mean his or her, as throughout this
manual) own identity.

The bartender opens and closes the place, handles the money, tips out the staff and a whole lot of other
little things, to be sure. He’s the one who makes you stay too long and draws you back every day. That’s
the job in a nutshell. It is the why that’s the secret. His drinks are good and he is fast, sure, but that all
happens while he’s part of conversations up and down the bar, about everything under the sun from sports
scores, to a restaurant location, to a pep-talk for an out-of-work pal. The bartender has to be a basic source
of information on the day’s events in sports and in the general news; he’s a glossary of where to dine,
drink, see and be seen.

That’s one part of the job, and in many ways the most important— no matter how good a drink he can
make or how fast, a cross-grained, ornery type who deep down just doesn’t like people will never make a
great bartender. That said, the skill a bartender has in handling the tools and the small theatrical elements
involved in making drinks can return huge dividends. Not that a bartender needs to put on a circus act, but
he should display a sense of confidence that is apparent to a guest at the bar. A bartender is most
definitely on stage. (That scrutiny demands that the bartender be carefully groomed down to the
fingernails!)

Your Customer
The relationship or contract between a server and a guest in the dining room is clear. The guest in effect
rents the table for the duration of the meal. Close attention to the needs at the table is paramount, but the
privacy of the space must not be violated by the service. The server in the dining room is always an
interloper at the table and must get the job done quickly and unobtrusively. Not so for the bartender.

The guest at the bar is in a shared space and the tone of that space, is set by the bartender. This means that
the bartender needs sharp powers of observation and a highly developed ability to listen. In the first
encounter with a guest, he will determine not only what the guest wants, but also his mood, if
conversation is welcome or not, why he has come to the bar and how to make his visit a success.

If a guest is short or less than cordial, the bartender, according to the contract, cannot respond in kind.
Once a bartender becomes unpleasant, rude or morose in reaction to a guest, a gratuity or whatever other
perceived slight, the shared space is compromised and people are no longer comfortable. It is a one-sided
contract weighted in favor of the guest, but in practice it is an opportunity for the bartender to do what he
was hired to do, turn difficult guests into friends, make great drinks and even on occasion teach people
how to have a good time.

He has the ability to keep peace in a light-handed way, to gently separate a gentleman from a lady who
may not find his company as compelling as he finds hers. Rudeness to a bar guest is never acceptable;
there are many alternate ways of reacting to a difficult guest. Of course, if a guest is unruly to the extent
that the other guests suffer or are endangered, then immediate action by the bartender and management is
necessary, but the most difficult of guests can and must still be handled with a professional demeanor,
even if it requires enlisting the help of a manager or bouncer. Just because the guest is out of control that
doesn’t mean the staff can be.

In Practice
Every bartender should be a ‘patrolling’ bartender. It’s of course fine to —indeed it’s an essential part of
the job. But at the same time, you must always have a wary eye and some part of your attention alert to
whatever else is happening in your domain. Everybody likes a bartender who has a nice word or two to
say, but everyone loves a bartender who is on the spot and even suggesting a refill before they have to
track him or her down. It’s impressive how much more can be served in a bar when a sure-footed, fast-
moving bartender is making his or her rounds—and thereby increasing the customers’ rounds.

Don’t be embarrassed to admit that you don’t know a recipe or a spirit. Listen to the customers. Ask lots
of questions and hunt down the information you need—recipes, techniques, whatever. And don’t worry,
you’re not going to get it all in six months and nobody’s expecting you
to (maybe in six years). Finally, don’t waste your time with second-rate bartending. Find a place that
believes in honest drinks made with fresh ingredients and quality spirits!

Bartender’s Steps of Service

1.   Greet all guests as they arrive at the bar. If you are busy with a guest, at least make eye contact
with new arrivals.
2.   Make drinks in front of the guest whenever possible.
3.   Make a check immediately after serving a drink or a round of drinks.
4.   Be a roving bartender and keep a wary eye. If you can’t take care of a guest immediately,
acknowledge them and indicate you will be with them shortly.
5.   Avoid long, involved conversations with guests.
6.   Keep the bar top clean and neat; remove soda and beer bottles quickly.

Leadership by Example/Becoming the “Go-To” Person

Making world-class drinks ain’t easy. Unless you’re fortunate enough to work in an establishment that
has already caught the fever, you’re going to be working harder than your fellow bartenders. In a perfect
world, they would all pitch in and step up their own games. In this world, however, you may be the only
one at your bar who’s obsessing about the right way to make a Ramos Fizz, which bitters to use in an
Improved Whiskey Cocktail or how to extract the oil from mint leaves without making that Mojito taste
bitter.

The thing about real bartending, though, is that it’s contagious: all around the world, bartenders are
catching the fever. In other words, odds are, you won’t be alone long. In fact, if you play your cards right
and don’t turn off your co-workers by pushing something on them they’re not ready for and concentrate
on leading by example, you may just find them joining you.

In the meanwhile, concentrate on working hard and doing the research and getting it right—and when you
finally do get it right, stand by it! There are lots of “experienced” bartenders out there who don’t know
what they’re doing or talking about and will try to put you down because your way isn’t the easy way or
the way they know. Ignore them. Having said that, don’t show off your knowledge; just perform and
enjoy the results because your passion will be evident to most and will be enough to sustain you.

Taste everything: spirits, wines, beers, sake, shochu, cocktail recipes— if you come across five recipes for
the same cocktail, try them all. This is a profession that deals in potable beverages—all of them. You
can’t afford to ignore something just because it’s not popular now. There was a time when nobody drank
vodka or tequila. You can bet your boots that when those things started catching on the bartenders who
already knew something about them could write their own tickets.

Creating Efficient and Ergonomically Sound Bartending Stations

The classic bars that date back to the nineteenth century often combined design with function much more
successfully than modern bars do. The height of the bar and the bar stools, the brass foot rail, the rounded
armrest at the front edge of the bar top and the mirrors behind the bar that allow bar patrons to monitor
the activity up and down the bar were all features that helped to make sitting at the bar such a pleasure.

This doesn’t mean that every new bar should be a Disney-like historical replica. But a twenty-first century
bar, whatever it looks like, should preserve the functionality of the classic saloon bar, an institution that
was designed specifically to turn out quality cocktails at high volume. In other words, don’t let restaurant
designers make decisions about the bar layout. A cocktail bar is as specialized as a kitchen. Kitchens are
designed by chefs to produce a specific cuisine and so a bar should be designed with the end production
in mind. The chef is the first person hired when
starting a restaurant and so the head bartender or beverage manager or both should come on the payroll, at
least partially, early on in the planning of the project.

There are some classic bar features that must be present for simple creature comfort. A bar should always
have a foot rail; a bar without a foot rail is uncomfortable, the foot is always searching for a perch. The
stools must be comfortable and also have a perch for the foot at the same height. Under bar knee-space is
an obvious design feature that is too often missing, leaving guests perching sidesaddle on the stool with
knees constantly banging against the front of the bar. The bar shouldn’t be so wide the bartender cannot
reach the outer edge of it for simple service and cleaning. To complete the design from a production
standpoint we must look at the equipment behind the bar and how it is arranged. A bar that is intended to
produce shaken cocktails for large numbers of guests needs special features. Each bar station must be like
a cockpit with the following things:

•   A bar that is exactly 42 inches (106cm high) - the perfect bar height.
•   Stools that fit the bar and have a foot perch built into their design.
•   At least 24 inches (61 cm) of linear space along the bar allotted for each stool.
•   A foot rail 6-8 inches (15-20cm) off the floor and 8 inches (20cm) from the bar-front.
•   A bar that is 21 inches (53cm) wide, including the drip rail; this permits the bartender to reach to
the outside edge of the bar for service and provides a comfortable expanse for the guest.
•   At least 14 inches (35 cm) of leg room under the bar for the guests
•   A drip rail on the inner edge of the bar top 3½ inches (9 cm) wide. These rails are practical for
catching the spill from a guest’s drink before it ends in the ice or fruit or whatever else the
bartender has on the underbar counter.
•   Under-bar sinks, ice bins and counters made of stainless steel and mounted on legs that raise them
off the floor 12 inches (30 cm) for easy access for floor cleaning. They shouldn’t be so high that
access to sinks, under-bar counters, and ice bins is impeded by the overhang of the bar top.
•   A back bar the same height as the front bar A working sink with drain boards on both sides (this
is essential). The sink itself must be deep enough for rinsing cocktail shakers and a very
minimum of 12 inches (30 cm) wide.
•   An ice bin with divisions to accommodate cubed and crushed ice and a division to chill juices.
•   Speed racks, even double if possible, attached to the ice bin and drain boards.
•   Refrigeration within easy reach behind the bartender.
•   Additional spirits within reach on the back bar for cordials and call brands.
•   Easy access to sodas, either bottled (preferred) or from a gun.
•   A minimum of four sets of cocktail shakers and strainers per station.
•   Shelves with glassware within reach.
•   If glasses are washed behind the bar, then one washer for every two stations.
•   A waste drop adjacent to every bar station.

All these features must be within close proximity of the bartender so that he can produce 90 percent of
the drinks without taking more than two steps in any direction.

A lounge that seats more than eighty guests needs a separate service bar and may need more than one
service bartender. Specialty drinks that are handmade in front of the guest at the main bar can be made in
batches to expedite the service to large numbers of guests, but that requires special design features. Batch
drinks made in gallon/4 liter pour-n-store containers need additional refrigeration. The server area must
have a glassware station, ice bin, soda supply, and counter space for several setups at once, coffee station
and refrigeration. The server should be able to completely set up trays with glasses, ice, coffee and soft
drinks while waiting for service.
Ordering and Inventory
Ordering and inventory are inseparable in any business, but especially in the bar and restaurant business
because the inventory is more liquid (if you will excuse the pun) and more difficult to track. Proper
ordering procedures can go a long way in protecting the inventory.

Establishing Pars
Pars—the number or amount of each item that must be kept in stock at all times—must be set for all the
bars and for the permanent storerooms and maintained religiously. If items are out of stock, paperwork
must follow those items until they have been replenished.

Keep Pars Manageable

A new business will often make the mistake of overstocking a storeroom and tying up capital. Liquor can
be ordered in most cases for next-day or two-day delivery and there is no reason to tie up cash in liquor
inventory that is easily accessible. When a business is established and usage patterns are set, money can
be saved by taking advantage of sale or post-off purchases.

Liquor sales obviously vary from place to place, but where allowed, liquor companies or distributors will
periodically sell at a discount for volume. Establishments may choose to dramatically increase their
purchases of high-volume items when approaching a busy season. This is because stock will be depleted
rapidly. It makes sense to take advantage of discount bulk buying that can translate to 15 or even as much
as 20 percent savings.

Obviously, wine purchases follow a different formula, but nonetheless, with popular by-the-glass and
day-to-day table wines, and large inventories are not necessary since these items are usually readily
available. Inventory of harder-to-get wines or allocated wines will require more of a capital investment.

Decisions about the depth and breadth of a wine program need to be made as part of the business plan
since they take larger investment than day-to-day liquor purchases. Money can be tied up in wine
inventory for extended time periods. Although wise big-ticket purchases can translate
to big returns, cash flow has to be the key consideration when making these purchases.

Regular Inventory Controls

Counting storerooms is still the most successful way to control mismanagement or shrinkage of stock. It
is a royal pain but an absolute necessity. If irregularities in usage are occurring, counting the inventory in
the storeroom and at the profit centers (bars) often and matching those counts against purchase orders,
requisitions from the profit centers and usage recorded by the point of sale system will help pinpoint the
problem. Choosing and maintaining an efficient point-of-sale system with inventory and sales tracking
potential will help enormously.

Requisition Procedures
Numbered requisition books should be issued to the different profit centers for re-supplying the stock.
Liquor bottles should be retained throughout the day’s business because ordering should be done from the
empty bottles. The empty bottles should be presented with the requisition paper work. When the order is
filled, the storeroom attendant must check the empty bottles against the full. In a high-volume
establishment, empty bottles can be recorded and checked periodically during business by a manager on
duty and disposed of to avoid congestion.

When the storeroom is out of an item a back-order slip must be returned with the filled requisition sheet
and remain with the requisition paperwork each day until the item is back in stock. The back-order
paperwork should be printed at least in duplicate so the storeroom always has a copy until the item has
been replaced.
Transporting Stock
In large operations with multiple profit centers, transporting stock from the storeroom to the bars should
be done in a locked cart. Paper work must follow this process at each stage. The bar back or storeroom
attendant is responsible for the stock until he releases it to the staff member at the bar. The attendant signs
the requisition when the storeroom and the bartender releases the stock.

Cash Handling
Cash handling begins in the office with orderly procedures for issuing banks and reconciling the day’s
sales. Maintaining these two procedures with meticulous attention to detail will go a long way toward
protecting against theft and mismanagement of the day-to-day receipts.

The banks issued to the bar staff should be consistent in amount and denominations. The bartender should
count the bank in the office upon receiving if possible to report mistakes at the moment of issue. When
serving customers, bartenders should make a check after each transaction. The check should be settled
after each round, or if the guest chooses to leave the account open, held for the next addition.

A bartender must never go to another guest without settling or recording the previous transaction, it is too
easy to be swept away by a busy bar and so miss drink entries and cash or credit settlements. A bartender
who is consistent in check handling is the best friend an establishment can have.

Closing Procedures
At the close of a shift, the bartender should count his total cash drawer and make a blind drop with all the
day’s sales receipts. Bartenders should never be given the job of settling their cash drawer. That
procedure must be done in the office.

Classic 25 Drinks Every Bartender Should Know

This is not a definitive list of the great cocktails. It is merely an attempt to give BarSmarts’ students a
common language; a set of benchmarks and a starting-point for invention. Most, if not all, you will have
heard of, although there are no doubt more than a few you have never had anyone actually order. Some of
these drinks, though, you will know very well, although perhaps not in the same exact formulae as we
give here. We strongly suggest that you learn these formulae. They may not necessarily be better than
yours, but for better or worse, these are the ones you will be tested on.

IMPORTANT NOTE: These recipes are guidelines, not gospel. When you make them in your bar, you
will no doubt personalize them in both formula and execution. In fact, some of the recipes that you’ve
watched us execute in the accompanying videos differ slightly from the ones included herein. That’s our
point! Recipes are guideposts. For the purposes of the BarSmarts Advanced Practical Exam, though, we
do ask that you stick as close as possible to these printed recipes. Oh, and don’t forget to study any
included variations, since we may test you on those as well.

A quick note on proof: for tax reasons, in many countries some of the spirits that are generally available
are significantly lower in proof than the brands for which these drinks were originally created: traditional
cocktail-strength gins tend to be at around 47% alcohol, while American whiskeys were traditionally
bottled at 45 to 50%. Some drinks will be more sensitive to this variance than others. In extreme cases,
you might want to experiment with techniques to get around that, such as replacing the simple syrup in
sours with superfine sugar stirred directly into the citrus juice or using extra-cold, hard ice to reduce
dilution.
Also, Pernod Ricard would like to remind you that, while the following cocktails use varying quantities of
alcohol, a typical serving of distilled spirits is 1½ ounces (45 ml), at 40 percent alcohol by volume (abv).
Ready to go? Let’s mix, Ladies and Gentlemen.

1) Aviation Cocktail [1910-1920]

Invented in New York in the days right before Prohibition, this is one the internet generation has brought
back in a big way. The original added a dash of crème de violette for a sky-blue color, which helps to
explain the name (you can use Monin violet syrup if crème de violette isn’t available).

Ingredients:
2 oz. Beefeater gin
½ oz. Maraschino Liqueur
½ oz. fresh lemon juice

Preparation: Shake all ingredients with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.
Optional: reduce the maraschino to 2 teaspoons and add 1 teaspoon crème de violette.

2) Bellini [1940-1950]
The Italian summertime classic from Harry’s Bar in Venice.

Ingredients:
1½ oz. white peach puree (For 1 quart of peach puree add 4 ounces of simple syrup and couple of
dashes of Grenadine for color)
4 oz. Perrier-Jouët Champagne
Optional: ½ oz. Peach Liqueur

Preparation: Put peach puree in bottom of mixing glass, no ice. Slowly pour Champagne while gently
stirring, so as not to lose the effervescence. Strain into a Champagne flute. (Optional: float a ½ ounce of
imported peach liqueur.)
Note: For a group, use a 32-48 ounce pitcher and a long barspoon. Add 8 ounces of puree to the bottom of
the pitcher filled half way with ice and slowly pour the Champagne while dragging the puree up the side
with a spoon in order to mix. Be gentle to retain the bubbles in the champagne. Serve.

3) Blood and Sand [1920-1930]

“At first glance, this most unusual Scotch cocktail seemed a god-awful mix. But the recipe, one of the
very few classic Scotch cocktails, appears in some serious cocktail books so don’t judge without tasting
it.” - Dale DeGroff

Ingredients:
¾ oz. Chivas Regal Scotch Whisky
¾ oz. Cherry Heering
¾ oz. Italian Sweet Vermouth
¾ oz. fresh-squeezed orange juice

Preparation: Shake and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with an orange peel.

4) Bloody Mary (Original Recipe) [1920-1930]

As the story goes, the Bloody Mary was invented at the legendary (and still-standing) Harry’s New York
Bar in Paris in the early 1920s, when bartender Ferdinand “Pete” Petiot poured vodka (popular in Paris
due to the large number of Russians taking refuge there from the Bolshevik
Revolution) into a glass of tomato juice, newly imported in cans from the United States. In 1934, the story
continues, Petiot brought the drink to America, when—Prohibition having just been repealed—he
became head bartender at New York’s St. Regis Hotel. It was at this point that he added the spices the
drink contains today—the lemon juice, the Worcestershire, the Tabasco, the salt and pepper; in fact, the
only thing to distinguish it from the modern Bloody Mary is the name, which had to be changed to Red
Snapper (the other was thought vulgar) and the fact that it had to be made with gin, as vodka wasn’t yet
available in the US.

Well, at least some of this is true. Pete Petiot did work at Harry’s in the early 1920s and at the St. Regis in
the 1930s (and 40s, 50s and 60s). You could get both vodka and tomato juice in Paris at some point in the
1920s, anyway. But tomato juice had been a popular hangover cure in America for a long time. What’s
more, in the late 1920s, the people responsible for marketing the stuff began widely publicizing an
alcohol-free “Tomato Juice Cocktail” designed to give a bit of the bite of an alcoholic drink, without
anything illegal in it. Its ingredients? Tomato juice, lemon juice, Worcestershire sauce, Tabasco sauce,
salt and pepper. It didn’t take much inventing to add a little alcohol to that. Add a number of other
claimants to the invention and some later hedging and hemming and hawing from Petiot, and a clear story
turns very murky. One thing we do know for sure is that the combination of vodka and tomato juice,
however you named it and whatever else you added to it, was well-established as a hangover drink by the
late 1930s. One other thing we also know is that Pete Petiot was one hell of a great bartender, whether he
invented the Bloody Mary or merely facilitated its acceptance.

Ingredients:
1½ oz. Absolut vodka
2 dashes Worcestershire sauce
4 dashes Tabasco sauce
Pinch of salt and pepper
¼ oz. fresh lemon juice
4 oz. tomato juice

Preparation: Combine all ingredients in mixing glass and roll back and forth into tin to mix (that will
prevent the tomato juice from foaming). Strain into an iced goblet. Garnish with wedge of lemon and lime
on a side plate. A dash of celery salt is a nice touch and New Yorkers
traditionally add horseradish. Bloody Marys offer rich ground for improvisation both in garnish and
ingredients. Have fun.

5) Caipirinha [1930-1940], Caipirissima, Caipiroska [1960-1970]

The national drink of Brazil, and party animals everywhere.

Ingredients:
2 oz. Janeiro cachaça
1½ barspoons of sugar or ¾ oz. simple syrup
½ lime, quartered

Preparation: Place lime quarters in the bottom of mixing glass, add the sugar or syrup and muddle,
extracting the juice and the oil in the skin from the lime quarters. Chill a rocks glass with cracked ice.
Add cachaça (or white rum, for a Caipirissima, or Absolut vodka, for a Caipiroska) to the mixture in the
glass, toss in the ice and shake well. Pour the entire contents of the mixing glass back into the chilled
rocks glass and serve. Another method is to build the whole drink in the glass that will receive it, omitting
the shaking.
6) Collins (Tom, John or Vodka) [1820-1830]
The Collins goes back to London in the early nineteenth century, where places like the Garrick Club (for
actors and other sporty types) and Limmer’s Hotel (patronized by dukes and bookies in equal proportion)
began serving a Gin Punch that was stretched out with iced soda water. It takes its surname from John
Collins, headwaiter at Limmer’s. Eventually, the John Collins changed from a drink made with Dutch
genever or English Old Tom gin to one with American whiskey, while the gin version took on the name
Tom Collins, due to both to the rise in popularity of Old Tom gin and a joke that was going around
America in the 1870s about one Tom Collins who went around saying terrible things about people.

Ingredients:
1½ oz. Beefeater Gin, genever gin, bourbon or Absolut vodka
¾ oz. fresh lemon juice
¾ oz. simple syrup
Club soda

Preparation: Shake spirits, lemon juice and simple syrup with ice, strain into an iced Collins glass and fill
with soda. Garnish with a cherry and an orange slice. For a Vodka Collins, replace the gin with Absolut
vodka. For an old-style John Collins, use a Dutch genever or a good American bourbon whiskey.

7) Cosmopolitan [1980-1990]
“The modern classic has conquered the world; I was given credit for inventing the Cosmo by New York
magazine. I was not the inventor but I standardized the recipe and printed it on my cocktail menu at the
Rainbow Room, where Madonna was spotted drinking one. That was all the rest of the world needed. The
actual inventor is Cheryl Cook from South Beach in Miami, who recently surfaced to claim her
invention.” —Dale DeGroff

Ingredients:
1½ oz. Absolut Citron vodka
¾ oz. Cointreau
¼ oz. fresh lime juice
1 oz. Ocean Spray Cranberry Juice Cocktail
Preparation: Shake all ingredients with ice. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with an orange
peel.

8) Daiquiri [1900-1910]
This Cuban drink derives its name from a town on the island’s southeastern coast. It’s the first classic
straight-up cocktail to be invented outside the United States.

Ingredients:
1½ oz. white rum
¾ oz. simple syrup
¾ oz. fresh lime juice

Preparation: Shake all ingredients with ice and strain into a small cocktail glass. Garnish with a lime
wheel. Note: Purists will hold out for the original 1910s recipe: juice of half a lime, half a teaspoon
superfine sugar, 2 oz. rum (assembled in that order, stirring the sugar into the lime juice before adding the
rum)
9) Gimlet [1890-1900]
In the late nineteenth century, the British Navy issued all sailors a ration of preserved lime juice to
prevent scurvy. The officers, who did not receive the standard rum ration, mixed theirs with their
preferred Plymouth gin. The ice came later.

Ingredients:
2½ oz. Beefeater gin
½ oz. preserved lime juice (Rose’s or Angostura)

Preparation: Shake ingredients well with ice and strain into a chilled martini glass or serve over ice in an
old-fashioned glass. Garnish with lime wedge.

10) Gin Fizz [1870-1880]

The fab drink of the 1870s, the Gin Fizz is simple, refreshing and endlessly adaptable (one of the most
popular wrinkles calls for it to be made with an egg white, in which case it is a Silver Fizz; others involve
adding six or eight raspberries or a lightly-muddled strawberry or two, when such things are in season).

Ingredients:
1½ oz. Beefeater gin
¾ oz. fresh lemon juice
¾ oz. simple syrup (or 1 teaspoon superfine sugar)
Club soda

Preparation: Shake the gin, lemon juice and simple syrup and strain into a highball glass. Fill with club
soda. No garnish.
Note: The difference between the Fizz and a Collins is glass size, garnish and ice: a proper Fizz is served
without ice in the glass, a Collins has it. The Collins goes in an extra-tall or “Collins” glass, with a cherry
and orange slice garnish.

11) Hot Toddy [1750-1760] (NO VIDEO)

This simple drink is one of the oldest in the world’s drink vocabulary, dating back to Scotland in the
middle of the 1700s. It’s also one of the best, whether made simply as below or fancied up with cider
instead of the water and cloves, cinnamon sticks and other spices.

Ingredients:
2 oz. The Glenlivet single-malt Scotch whisky or Redbreast Irish whiskey
1 well-filled barspoon demerara sugar or ¼ oz. honey
1 strip of thin-cut lemon peel
2-4 oz. boiling water

Preparation: Rinse out a mug or hot whiskey glass with boiling water, to warm it. This is as essential a
step with hot drinks as chilling the glass is with cold ones. Add the sugar or honey, the lemon peel and
half an oz. or so boiling water. Stir until sugar or honey has dissolved. Add the whisky and another 1½ to
2½ ounces water, depending on how stiff a drink is required.
12) Irish Coffee [1940-1950]
Originally prepared at Shannon Airport in Dublin by Joe Sheridan the Irish Coffee found a home in the
United States at the Buena Vista across from Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco, where it has been the
house drink since the early 1950s.

Ingredients:
1½ oz. Jameson Irish whiskey
1 oz. simple or brown sugar syrup (equal parts of water and brown sugar, dissolved)
4 oz. brewed coffee
Lightly whipped unsweetened cream

Preparation: Combine whiskey, coffee and syrup in an Irish coffee glass. Ladle a layer 1 inch (2.5 mm)
thick of cream on top.

13) Mai Tai [1940-1950]

This, the dean of all Tiki drinks, was invented by Victor “Trader Vic” Bergeron in Oakland, California.

Ingredients:
2 oz. aged rum (Jamaican if possible)
¾ oz. fresh lime juice
¾ oz. orange curaçao
1 teaspoon orgeat syrup

Preparation: Shake well with ice and strain into an old-fashioned glass filled with ice. Garnish with a
wheel of lime, a mint sprig and if possible a Sonya orchid.

14) Manhattan [1870-1880]/Rob Roy [1890- 1900]/Emerald [1900-1910]

The Manhattan story is told in Module III. Make it with Scotch, and you’ve got a Rob Roy, first
introduced in 1895, probably at New York’s Fifth-Avenue Hotel. Make it with Irish whiskey, and it’s an
Emerald (there are other names as well), which was a specialty of the Irish-staffed bar of the Waldorf-
Astoria Hotel, just a few blocks up the street.

Ingredients:
2 oz. Lot 40 Canadian Rye whisky or bourbon whiskey
1 oz. Italian sweet vermouth
2-3 dashes Angostura bitters

Preparation: Pour all ingredients over ice in a mixing glass and stir as you would a Martini. Strain into a
chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a cherry, although many discriminating drinkers prefer theirs with a
twist. Note: If you prefer a dry Manhattan, use dry vermouth and garnish with a lemon peel. For a Perfect
Manhattan, use ½ oz. each of dry and sweet vermouth and, again, deploy the peel. For a Rob Roy,
replace the bourbon or rye with a good blended Scotch whiskey, such as Chivas Regal. Many prefer
orange bitters in this, with an orange twist at the end. For an Emerald, replace the American whiskey with
a rich Irish one, such as John Powers or Redbreast. Many prefer orange bitters and an orange twist here,
too.

15) Margarita [1930-1940]

There aren’t a lot of essential tequila cocktails, but this one more than makes up for it. A child of the
1930s, the Margarita has grown up into one of the most popular cocktails of them all, and not without
reason.
Ingredients:
2 oz. Altos Plata or Tequila Avión Silver
¾ oz. fresh lime juice
½ oz. agave nectar
( ½ oz. simple syrup is optional but necessary for many guests.)
Coarse salt

Preparation: Combine first three ingredients in a mixing glass with ice. Shake well and strain into a
chilled salt- rimmed cocktail glass. Garnish with a lime wedge. Salting the rim: Frost the edge of the
cocktail glass by rubbing a lime wedge on the outside rim of the glass, then dipping it into a saucer of
coarse salt. Salt inside the glass is not a desirable outcome of this process. Note: Never use iodized salt on
the rim of the glass.

16) Dry Martini [1890-1900]

Nothing needs to be said for the Martini: it speaks for itself. The standard recipe from about 1895 to 1915:

Ingredients:
1½ oz. Beefeater London dry gin
1½ oz. French dry vermouth
1 or 2 dashes orange bitters

Preparation: Stir all ingredients with ice to chill and twist orange peel or lemon peel over the top.

Classic Extra Dry Martini (as it was made from 1950 on) [1950-1960]

Ingredients:
3 oz. Beefeater London dry gin or Absolut vodka
1/8 oz. dry French vermouth

Preparation: Prepare a tall mixing glass with ice. Pour vermouth over ice and swirl to season, then strain
off vermouth. Pour gin or vodka over seasoned ice and stir to chill. Strain into a chilled martini glass.
Garnish traditionally with a small pitted Spanish cocktail olive (no pimento).

17 )Mint Julep [1790-1800]

The great American classic, first recorded in 1793. Before the American Civil War, the favorite spirit to
use in a Mint Julep was not whiskey, but rather old French cognac, often with a little Jamaican rum
floated on top. After the Civil War, however, it became almost exclusively a whiskey drink. Either way, if
it is made properly, there are few more delicious cocktails, particularly on a warm day.

Ingredients:
2½ oz. straight bourbon or rye whiskey, or Martell VSOP cognac
1 oz. simple syrup or 2 teaspoons superfine sugar
2 to 4 sprigs of mint (use tender, young sprigs, since they last longer and look better)

Preparation: Put the simple syrup or the sugar and ½ oz. water in the bottom of a highball glass. Add 5 or
6 mint leaves (from the bottom of the sprig) and press lightly with a muddler. Add half of the spirits and
fill with crushed or finely cracked ice. Swirl with a barspoon until the outside of the glass frosts. Add
more crushed ice and the remaining liquor. Stir again to frost the glass. Garnish with at least 1 sprig of
mint, and preferably 3. Add a straw.
18) Mojito [1920-1930]
This Cuban creation from the early years of the twentieth century has become the first breakout drink of
the twenty-first.

Ingredients:
1½ oz. white rum
¾ oz. fresh lime juice
¾ oz. simple syrup
1 mint sprig and 4 mint leaves (use tender, young mint tops; peppermint is best because it doesn’t wilt
and retains its shape).
1 oz. soda

Preparation: In a mixing glass muddle mint leaves with simple syrup. Add lime juice and rum and fill
with ice. Shake vigorously and strain over fresh ice into a highball glass. Top with soda and garnish with
a fresh mint sprig.

-or-

Muddle the mint leaves gently with the simple syrup and the lime juice in the bottom of a highball glass.
Add the rum, stir, add ice and top with no more than two oz. of club soda. Garnish with a generous sprig
of mint.

19) Negroni [1910-1920]

Camillo Negroni (1868-1934) was a Florentine count who had spent time as a cowboy in the old West
and a gambler in New York. When he returned to Florence, in the 1910s, he had the bartender at the Bar
Casoni mix these up for him.

Ingredients:
1 oz. Beefeater London dry gin
1 oz. Campari
1 oz. Italian sweet vermouth
Preparation: Combine all ingredients in an iced old-fashioned glass and stir. Garnish with an orange peel
or orange slice. The count liked his topped with a splash— say, an ounce or so—of soda. Others prefer
theirs served straight up, in which case it should be stirred with ice, strained into a chilled cocktail glass
and garnished with the peel, not the slice.

20) Old-Fashioned [1800-1810]

By the 1860s, the original “Cock-Tail” of the beginning of the century had begun changing, and if that’s
what you wanted, you had to order an “Old-Fashioned” cocktail. A very simple and satisfying drink, the
Old-Fashioned is the choice of many cocktail aficionados. Here are two versions, the original, nineteenth
century one, and the rather more lush twentieth century version.

The Old-Fashioned Old-Fashioned

“My favorite version, and indeed my favorite cocktail of all time. I find it equally delicious if made with
cognac or genever, both popular variations at the time when this drink was young.” David Wondrich

Ingredients:
2 oz. Lot 40 Canadian Rye whisky or bourbon whiskey
2-3 dashes Angostura bitters
1 sugar cube or a well-filled barspoon of superfine sugar
Splash water or soda
Preparation: Muddle the sugar and the Angostura bitters in the splash of soda (about a barspoon—no
more) until the sugar is dissolved, forming a syrup in the bottom of the glass. Add the whiskey and the
ice, and stir. Garnish with a fresh twist of orange peel.

Old Fashioned (Muddled) [1910-1920]

By 1915 or so, even the Old-Fashioned had begun changing; this is the version most people know today,
and is Dale DeGroff’s preferred one.

Ingredients:
2 oz. Lot 40 Canadian Rye whisky
2-3 dashes Angostura bitters
1 sugar cube or a well-filled barspoon of superfine sugar
1 orange slice
1 maraschino cherry
Splash water or soda

Preparation: Muddle the sugar, bitters, one orange slice, one cherry, and a splash of soda carefully in the
bottom of an old-fashioned glass. Remove the orange rind, add whisky/bourbon and ice and stir
thoroughly. Garnish with an orange slice and a cherry.

21) Pisco Sour [1910-1920]

Created by Victor Morris in Lima, Peru around 1915, the Pisco Sour has become the national drink of
Peru—and of Chile, since both nations claim pisco as their own. The Pisco Sour is one of the drinks on
the short list to step in as a global sensation when the Mojito falters.

Ingredients:
2 oz. Pisco
1 oz. fresh lime juice
1 oz. simple syrup
Several drops of Angostura bitters
1 small egg white

Preparation: Shake all ingredients very hard with ice and strain into a small cocktail glass. Garnish with
several drops of Angostura bitters on top of the foam created by the egg whites.

22) Sazerac [1870-1880]

New Orleans’ world-famous and beloved twist on the Old-Fashioned is accented with the bitters
compounded by Antoine Amedee Peychaud in the mid-nineteenth century, who made a cognac cocktail
by mixing them with Sazerac de Forge et Fils, the favorite cognac of the day. The drink took its modern
form, with whiskey instead of cognac, in the 1880s, when Billy Wilkinson and Vincent Miret, the
charismatic bartenders at the city’s Sazerac House, made their whiskey version famous.

Ingredients:
2 oz. straight rye whiskey
3-4 dashes Peychaud’s bitters
Splash of Pernod 68 absinthe (or regular Pernod)
½ oz. simple syrup or 1 sugar cube and a tiny splash of water

Preparation: Take two small old-fashioned glasses and chill one with ice while preparing the drink in the
other by combining the rye, syrup or sugar, and the bitters and stirring with ice (preferably cracked) to
chill. Empty the first glass of its chilling ice, splash a little absinthe into it, swirl it around to coat the
inside, and pour it out. Strain the contents of the second glass into it and twist the lemon peel over the top.
Note: If you can’t find the Peychaud’s bitters, you can still make this delicious cocktail with Angostura or
other bitters; you just can’t call it a Sazerac. You can, however, call it an Improved Whiskey Cocktail.
That formula, virtually identical to the Sazerac but with different bitters, dates back to the 1870s. For an
improved cocktail, add a barspoon of Grand Marnier or maraschino liqueur.

23) Sidecar [1920-1930]

The ultimate Art-Deco cocktail. A French creation of the early 1920s, the Sidecar was soon adopted by
sophisticated barflies everywhere.

Ingredients:
1½ oz. Martell VS or VSOP cognac
¾ oz. Cointreau
½ to ¾ oz. fresh lemon juice

Preparation: Shake all ingredients with ice and strain into a cocktail glass with sugared rim. Garnish with
an orange peel.

24) Stinger [1890-1900]

This classic New York nightcap—a rich man’s drink if ever there was one—goes back to the 1890s, an
adult after-dinner mint that surprises with its refreshing taste. But remember there is only one drink that
can follow a Stinger. . . another Stinger!

Ingredients:
2 ¼ oz. Martell VS, VSOP or Cordon Bleu cognac
¾ oz. white crème de menthe

Preparation: Shake both ingredients with ice and strain into an old fashioned glass filled with crushed ice
or serve up in a chilled cocktail glass. Note: This is an exception to the rule that drinks with only liquors
and liqueur should be stirred and also that proportions of the two ingredients can vary, many people
preferring less crème de menthe and more cognac (David Wondrich recommends 2¼ ounces cognac to ¾
ounce crème de menthe).

25) Whiskey Sour [1850-1860]

This simple concoction has been satisfying thirsts for a century and a half. It’s also an excellent base for
experimentation.

Ingredients:
1½ oz. bourbon or rye whiskey—or indeed any other kind of whiskey
¾ oz. simple syrup
¾ oz. fresh lemon juice

Preparation: Shake all ingredients with ice and strain into an old-fashioned glass or a special sour glass.
Garnish with a flag (an orange slice and a cherry). This drink is equally delicious when made with Irish
whiskey. Some brave souls even like theirs with Scotch.
The 25 Essential Classics in Chronological Order, According to Their Probable Origin
1750-1760: Hot Toddy
1790-1800: Mint Julep
1800-1810: Old-Fashioned
1820-1830: John Collins
1850-1860: Whiskey Sour
1870-1880: Gin Fizz, Manhattan
1880-1890: Sazerac
1890-1900: Dry Martini Gimlet , Rob Roy, Stinger
1900-1910: Daiquiri Emerald,
1910-1920: Aviation, Negroni, Pisco Sour
1920-1930: Blood and Sand, Bloody Mary, Mojito, Muddled, Old-Fashioned, Sidecar
1930-1940: Caipirinha, Margarita
1940-1950: Bellini Irish Coffee, Mai Tai
1960-1970: Caipirissima, Caipiroska
1980-1990: Cosmopolitan

25 Contemporary Cocktails
Now that you’ve mastered the bedrock classics we thought we’d throw in a little lagniappe, as they say in
New Orleans: another twenty-five classic drinks. Think of them as an arcane alternative twenty-five, as it
were. You won’t be tested on these, just to be clear. Few punters who walk into your bar are going to
expect you to know them, much less make them. Some of them only mixology geeks have heard of;
others will be a stretch even for the most versed of devotees. But they’re all interesting drinks with real
stories behind them, and each of them helps throw a little light on some of the key trends in the mixology
of today. More importantly, each of them is just plain delicious.

1) Airmail Special
This Cuban drink from the 1930s is a simple, yet surprisingly complex-tasting way to showcase
champagne in a cocktail, particularly if you use a real Cuban rum or one of the more flavorful white rums
that are now appearing on the market.

Ingredients:
1½ oz. white rum
½ oz. fresh lime juice
½ oz. honey syrup
2-3 oz. chilled Perrier-Jouët Brut Champagne.

Preparation: Shake everything but the Champagne well with ice and strain into a tall Champagne flute.
Add the Champagne and garnish, if desired, with a long, thin spiral of lime peel, cut with a channel knife.
Note: To make honey syrup, stir equal parts liquid honey and warm water until honey has completely
dissolved. Bottle and refrigerate.

2) Bamboo
The Bamboo Cocktail is credited to West-Coast bartender and saloonkeeper, Louis Eppinger, who in
1890 sailed to Japan to manage the Grand Hotel in Yokohama. It’s an excellent way of cutting back on
the alcohol without cutting back on the flavor.

Ingredients:
1½ oz. Sandeman amontillado sherry
1½ oz. Italian sweet vermouth
2 dashes Angostura bitters
Preparation: Stir the sherry, vermouth and bitters well with cracked ice, strain into chilled cocktail glass
and twist the orange peel or lemon peel over the top.

3) Benjamin Menendez Special

Also known as the Smoked Cocktail, the Benjamin Menendez Special was created in the late 1930s by
Constante Ribalaigua, owner and head bartender at Havana, Cuba’s legendary Floridita. Perhaps the
greatest mixologist of the twentieth century, Constante had a way of crafting simple, subtle drinks with
the kinds of unusual touches that make them memorable. Here, he combined Scotch whisky and mint to
impressive effect.

Ingredients:
2 oz. Chivas Regal or The Glenlivet Scotch whiskey
¾ oz. fresh lemon juice
1 barspoon superfine sugar
1 barspoon orange curaçao or Grand Marnier

Preparation: Combine sugar and lemon juice in cocktail shaker and stir briefly. Add whisky, orange
liqueur and 6 to 8 mint leaves. Fill with ice, shake thoroughly but very gently (so as not to shred the mint)
and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Float a mint leaf on top.

4) Bijou
In 1900, Harry Johnson, bar technician extraordinaire and the man literally who wrote the book on how to
tend bar, published a recipe for the Bijou Cocktail. If we didn’t know better, we’d swear that the drink
was invented last year, as it combines three of the ingredients most appreciated by contemporary craft
bartenders: Plymouth gin, Chartreuse and vermouth. Of course, all three were new and trendy back then,
too. What goes around, comes around.

Ingredients:
1 oz. Plymouth gin
1 oz. Green Chartreuse
1 oz. Italian sweet vermouth

Preparation: Stir well with cracked ice, strain into chilled cocktail glass and garnish with brandied cherry.
Note: In 1895, Chris Lawlor, an Ohio bartender of national repute, published a Bijou that was identical to
Johnson’s save for using Grand Marnier instead of Chartreuse. This makes for a less-complex, sweeter
drink, but not a bad one. Garnish with a twist of lemon peel.

5) Blackthorn
There are several Blackthorn cocktails on the books. Another product of the fertile brain of Harry
Johnson, it is also the oldest. Appearing in the 1900 edition of his Bartenders’ Manual, it is one of the
very few formulae from the first Golden Age of the Cocktail to call for Irish whiskey. In the 1920s, the
Blackthorn was a favorite both at Harry’s Bar in Paris (a different Harry) and the Savoy in London.

Ingredients:
2 oz. Jameson or John Powers Irish whiskey
1 oz. French dry vermouth
2 dashes orange bitters
2 dashes Pernod 68 absinthe
Preparation: Stir well with cracked ice, strain into chilled cocktail glass and twist the orange peel over the
top. Note: The best way to add the absinthe to this drink is to fill an empty bitters bottle with it and dash it
in as you would Angostura. If that is not practical, use about a quarter of a barspoon’s worth.

6) Blue Blazer
We include this one by popular demand. Indeed, there are few, if any, drinks more spectacular than Jerry
Thomas’ signature creation—when properly made. When improperly made, that’s when people get hurt.
Pouring flaming whisky back and forth between mugs is like that. We must therefore insist that you use
the proper equipment and strictly follow the listed safety precautions, as well as any others that common
sense dictates. BarSmarts disclaims any liability for what happens when you try to make this drink.

That said, with the right equipment—two identical, metal pint mugs with (and this is the most important
part) outward-flared rims to focus your pouring—and the right spirit—whatever you’re setting ablaze has
to be at least 55% alcohol, and not more than 65%—the drink is surprisingly easy to pull off. Jerry
Thomas made his with a blend of Scotch and Irish whiskies, but contemporary bartenders have used
everything from Chartreuse to Chinese Moutai.

The below recipe makes four drinks. You don’t make Blue Blazers unless you’ve got an audience.

Equipment:
2 mugs, as described above. You can get silver-plated mugs from CocktailKingdom.com. Double-walled
(and thus insulated) stainless steel ones can be bought online (search for 16-oz. “double walled beer
steins” and make sure you get the tankard-style ones that have a flared lip).
Long, wooden matches or barbecue lighter
4-oz. long-handled measuring cup

Ingredients:
5 oz. The Glenlivet Nádurra cask-strength Scotch whisky or 2½ oz. each Nádurra and cask-strength
Redbreast Irish whiskey.
Demerara or turbinado sugar
4 1-inch x ½ inch strips of lemon peel

Procedure:
1.   Clear all flammable materials from the mixing area and have a bucket of water handy.
2.   Lay down some damp cloth napkins for the spills. There will be spills.
3.   Prepare a pot of boiling water.
4.   Prepare four espresso cups by putting a barspoon of the sugar and a strip of lemon peel in
each.
5.   Measure the whisky out into a water glass or measuring cup.
6.   Pour four ounces of boiling water into one of the metal mugs.
7.   Quickly add the whisky.
8.   Light this with a long match or grill lighter.
9.   Pick up both mugs, holding them pointing forward with each hand in a six o’clock position in
relation to the mug and quickly but carefully pour three-quarters of the contents of the
flaming mug into the other one; you should pour the liquid from the side of the mug (i.e., nine
o’clock or three o’clock position, depending on which hand you start with), not the part
directly across from your hand—the twelve o’clock position).
10.   Now pour three-quarters of the flaming whisky-water mix back into the first mug, from a
greater distance.
11.   Repeat five or six times, increasing the distance each time, all the while talking nonchalantly
about how Jerry Thomas used to make these back in old San Francisco.
 12.   Once the handles start to get too hot to hold, you are done. Extinguish the flames by capping
each mug with the base of the other one and pour into the espresso cups. Stir each and serve.
Note: Cool the mugs in cold water between rounds.

7) Brooklyn
First appearing in a 1908 book by Jacob Grohusko, who tended bar (ironically) in lower Manhattan, the
Brooklyn Cocktail slumbered in obscurity until the twenty-first century brought a revival of both the art
of the cocktail and of Brooklyn itself. It has become a modern bartender’s game to come up with
variations on Grohusko’s formula, substituting in various spirits and aperitifs and naming the result after
either a Brooklyn neighborhood or another town altogether. This process is aided by the fact that the
original recipe calls for Amer Picon, a French digestif that is no longer imported into the U.S. or indeed
sold anywhere at its original proof.

Ingredients:
2 oz. Jameson or John Power’s Irish whiskey
1 oz. French dry vermouth
½ barspoon maraschino liqueur
½ barspoon Italian amaro

Procedure: Stir all the spirits well with cracked ice. Strain into chilled cocktail glass and twist the lemon
peel over the top.

8) Chatham Artillery Punch

There are many recipes for the legendary social drink of Savannah, Georgia. This is the oldest and, we
think, best. There exist few quicker ways to kick an event into high gear than to start ladling this mid-
nineteenth century classic out.

The only time-consuming thing about this recipe is peeling the lemons, which must be done several hours
in advance so that the sugar the peels are muddled with will have time to extract the sweet lemon oil. The
resulting “oleo-saccharum,” or sugar oil, is the foundation of almost all great punches. This recipe makes
about eighty 3-ounce servings.

Ingredients:
1 750-ml bottle Martell VSOP cognac
1 750-ml bottle 8-year old bourbon whiskey
1 750-ml bottle dark, funky Jamaican-style rum
3 750-ml bottles chilled Perrier-Jouët brut champagne.
Peel of 12 lemons
16 oz. strained lemon juice
2 cups white sugar

Procedure: Muddle the lemon peels with the sugar and let sit for 2 to 3 hours, muddling occasionally,
until the sugar has become saturated with lemon oil. Add the lemon juice, stir until sugar has dissolved
and strain into a clean, empty 750-ml bottle. Add cold water to top off and refrigerate. (This mixture is
known as “shrub.”) To serve the punch, fill a 2-gallon punchbowl halfway with ice cubes. Pour in the
bottled shrub and the liquors. Stir well. Add the chilled champagne, stir briefly and ladle out in 3-ounce
portions. Note: Use a swivel-bladed vegetable peeler to peel the lemons, trying to get as little of the white
pith as possible. With a little practice, you’ll be able to remove the peel in a single, long spiral.
9) Clover Club
The signature drink of a group of Philadelphia journalists, the Clover Club is one of the original egg-
white drinks. When made in the original manner, with both gin and vermouth rather than just gin, it is
seductive, complex and smooth, and still far more serious than its pink and frothy
appearance suggests.

Ingredients:
1 oz. Beefeater gin
1 oz. French dry vermouth
1/2 oz. fresh lemon juice
2 teaspoons raspberry syrup
½ oz. raw egg white (see note)

Procedure: Combine ingredients in shaker. Without adding ice, shake viciously for 5 or 10 seconds to
activate the foam. Add ice, shake for another 10 seconds and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Note: To
make the syrup, over a low flame, stir 1 pound sugar in 1 cup water until sugar melts. Stir in 2 small
containers (or about a pint) of organic raspberries, mashing them up as you go. Remove from heat, strain
and bottle. Keep refrigerated. To enable egg whites to be measured out, whip them lightly before use.

10) Corpse Reviver No. 2

In the nineteenth century, a “corpse reviver” was any drink taken first thing in the morning to enable the
hung-over to go about their business. We do not recommend that. The Corpse Reviver No. 2 was one of
the stars of Harry Craddock’s seminal 1930 Savoy Cocktail Book. It’s also a popular drink for
contemporary bartenders to create variations of. Simply substitute for one or more of the ingredients and
change the number.

Ingredients:
¾ oz. Beefeater gin
¾ oz. Cointreau
¾ oz. Lillet Blonde
¾ oz. fresh lemon juice
1 dash Pernod 68 absinthe

Procedure: Shake well with ice and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Note: The best way to add the
absinthe to this drink is to fill an empty bitters bottle with it and dash it in as you would Angostura. If that
is not practical, use about a quarter of a barspoon’s worth.

11) El Presidente
This supremely elegant Cuban creation of the 1910s was particularly popular with the Cubans themselves.
The secret to making it properly is to use a semi-sweet white vermouth, not a dry one, which makes for a
peerlessly subtle, integrated cocktail. The original recipes called for “Chambery” vermouth, referring to
the town in the French Alps that pioneered that style. If you ever get your hands on real Cuban rum, that
doesn’t hurt, either.

Ingredients:
1½ oz. rich-flavored white rum
1½ oz. Dolin Blanc or Martini & Rossi Bianco or Cinzano Bianco Vermouths
1 barspoon orange curaçao or Grand Marnier
½ barspoon grenadine
Procedure: Stir the spirits and grenadine well with cracked ice, strain into chilled cocktail glass and twist
orange peel over the top. Garnish, if desired, with a maraschino cherry.

12) Fog Cutter

There are many different formulae in circulation for this Tiki classic. Indeed, its inventor, Victor “Trader
Vic” Bergeron, had more than one way of making it himself. After he published his original formula in
1947, other Tiki bars rapidly spun out the variations—indeed, they’re still doing that.

Ingredients:
1½ oz. rich-flavored white rum
½ oz. Martell VSOP cognac
½ oz. Beefeater gin
2 oz. fresh-squeezed orange juice
1 oz. fresh lemon juice
½ oz. orgeat syrup
½ oz. Sandeman Character sherry

Procedure: Shake everything but the sherry well with ice and strain into an ice-filled Collins glass. Float
the sherry on top and garnish with an orange wheel and a cherry. Note: Bergeron’s original formula called
for 2 ounces of lemon juice and 1 ounce of orange, which yields a very tart drink, and a full 2 ounces of
rum and 1 ounce of cognac, which yields a very strong one—as he warned, “you can get pretty stinking
on these, no fooling.”

13) Gypsy Queen

There are very few excellent classic vodka cocktails. The Gypsy Queen, which apparently originated at
New York’s famous Russian Tea Room, is one of the few. Relying on vodka’s ability to stretch out
flavors without weakening the drink, it draws down the pungency of Bénédictine so that its flavor can be
enjoyed without cloying the palate.

Ingredients:
2 oz. Absolut vodka
1 oz. Bénédictine
2 dashes Angostura bitters

Procedure: Stir spirits and bitters well with cracked ice. Strain into chilled cocktail glass and twist lemon
peel over the top.

14) Last Word

Another one modern bartenders love cranking out variations on, the Last Word is attributed to Brooklyn
Vaudevillian Frank Fogarty, who showed it to the sporty gents at the Detroit Athletic Club during one of
his tours in the mid-1910s. They didn’t forget it.

Ingredients:
¾ oz. Beefeater gin
¾ oz. maraschino liqueur
¾ oz. Green Chartreuse
¾ oz. fresh lime juice

Procedure: Shake well with ice. Strain into chilled cocktail glass.
15) Modern
In 1905 or thereabouts, head bartender Charlie Mahoney of New York’s exquisite Hoffman House bar,
one of the very fanciest in America, took three trendy ingredients, blended Scotch whisky, sloe gin and
absinthe, mixed them together and came up with the Modern Cocktail, one of those rare drinks that
sounds like it would be horrid and is in fact utterly delicious.

Ingredients:
1 ½ oz. Chivas Regal or The Glenlivet Scotch whisky
1 ½ oz. Plymouth sloe gin
¼ oz. fresh lemon juice
1 barspoon (5 ml) superfine sugar
1 dash Pernod absinthe
1 dash orange bitters

Procedure: Combine sugar and lemon juice in cocktail shaker and stir briefly. Add everything else but the
cherry, shake well with ice and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a maraschino cherry.

16) New York Brandy Sour

Or, if you prefer, a Continental Brandy Sour—or a Southern Brandy Sour. There were several names back
in the day attached to a sour that had been topped off with a float of dry red wine. The wine not only
makes the drink look spectacular, it also adds a dry, tannic complexity to an
otherwise-simple drink.

Ingredients:
1½ oz. Martell VSOP cognac
½ oz. fresh lemon juice
¼ oz. fresh-squeezed orange juice
½ oz. simple syrup
½ oz. Bordeaux or other dry red wine

Procedure: Shake everything but the wine well with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Pour the
wine gently on top over the back of a spoon (this will be easier if you put it into a small container first).
Note: This drink is equally good if made with bourbon or rye, or, for that
matter, genever or pisco.

17) Paloma
The newest of our Next 25, the Paloma is a Mexican drink from the 1980s or thereabouts. It’s easy to
make, peerlessly refreshing and manages to combine sweet, sour, salty, bitter and umami, all in one drink.
Neat trick.

Ingredients:
2 oz. Tequila Avion reposado
½ lime
Pinch of salt
2 to 3 oz. Mexican grapefruit soda

Procedure: Squeeze lime into ice-filled highball glass. Add tequila and salt and the squeezed-out lime
shell. Top off with the grapefruit soda and add a straw.
18) Pépa
Pépa Bonafé was a French starlet of the 1920s. She must have known a thing or two about mixing drinks,
though, since this unlikely but clever combination of cognac and vodka (the vodka stretches out the
cognac without masking its flavor) was good enough to win honorable mention in a 1929 Parisian
cocktail competition.

Ingredients:
1 oz. Martell VSOP cognac
1 oz. Absolut vodka
1 oz. French dry vermouth
2 dashes Angostura bitters

Procedure: Stir the spirits and bitters well with cracked ice, strain into a chilled cocktail glass and twist
the lemon peel over the top.

19) Prado
The only thing rarer than a vintage vodka cocktail is a vintage tequila one. The Prado was the signature
drink of the Del Prado Hotel in Mexico City, where it was collected by Esquire magazine (also one of the
first publications to cover the Margarita) in the mid-1950s. The Del Prado was an elegant hotel, complete
with a mural by the great Diego Riviera, and
the drink fits right in.

Ingredients:
1½ oz. Tequila Avion blanco
¾ oz. fresh lemon juice
¼ oz. maraschino liqueur
¼ oz. grenadine
½ oz. egg white (to measure it, lightly whip it first)

Procedure: Combine everything in shaker. Without adding ice, shake viciously for 5 or 10 seconds to
activate the foam. Add ice, shake for another 10 seconds and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Garnish
with a lemon wheel and a maraschino cherry.

20) Queen’s Park Swizzle

Another Tiki classic, this one from the Queen’s Park Hotel in Port of Spain, Trinidad. The Caribbean art
of swizzling a drink—basically, churning a tall glass full of booze and crushed ice—is an ancient one,
dating back to the early nineteenth century, if not before. If you can’t get a real swizzle stick, which is
nothing more than a length of soft wood with the stubs of a few roots sticking out of the bottom, no
matter: a barspoon will work fine.

Ingredients:
3 oz. dark, rich rum
½ oz. fresh lime juice
½ oz. simple syrup
6-8 mint leaves
3 dashes Angostura bitters

Procedure: Combine all ingredients in a Collins glass. Fill with finely cracked or crushed ice and swizzle:
work your swizzle stick or barspoon down to near the bottom of the glass and then spin the shaft back and
forth between your palms until the glass frosts. Add a straw and serve.
21) Ramos Gin Fizz
The “One and Only One,” as Henry Carl Ramos dubbed his immortal creation, is one of the legendary
drinks. This is his original formula, dating back to the late 1880s, when he ran the Imperial Cabinet
Saloon on Carondelet Street in New Orleans. According to the New Orleans Item, his saloon sold 3,000
of them on a good day, so tinker with it at your own peril.

Ingredients:
1½ oz. Plymouth gin
1 oz. organic heavy cream
½ oz. fresh lime juice
½ oz. fresh lemon juice
2 barpoons superfine sugar
1 oz. chilled soda water
½ oz. egg white (to measure it, lightly whip it first)
3 drops orange-flower water

Procedure: Combine lime juice, lemon juice and sugar in shaker and stir briefly to dissolve sugar. Add the
other ingredients, except the soda water. Without adding ice, shake viciously for 5 or 10 seconds to
activate the foam. Add ice and soda water, shake for another 30 to 45 seconds (or longer if possible) and
strain into chilled highball glass.

22) Sherry Cobbler

The Sherry Cobbler is one of the two or three formulae that spread the gospel of iced drinks, back in the
1830s when cheap ice was still a relative novelty. It’s not a complicated one, but it enjoys a high flavor-
to-alcoholic content ratio, which makes it useful: not everyone wants a strong drink, but everyone wants a
tasty one. On that count, the Cobbler does not disappoint.

Ingredients:
3 oz. Sandeman sherry*
1 to 2 barspoons superfine sugar
1 orange wheel, cut in half
2 to 3 raspberries or blackberries or 1 strawberry

Procedure: Stir sugar and sherry together in shaker; add 1 half-wheel of orange and shake hard with ice.
Strain into highball glass full of crushed ice, garnish with berries and other half-wheel of orange and add
a straw. Note: Any style of sherry can be used; a dryer one will make for a lighter drink, but it will
require more sugar. A fino, such as the Sandeman Don Fino, will require more sugar than a rich oloroso
such as the Sandeman Armada Rich Cream Oloroso.

23) Texas Fizz

At some point in the 1920s or early 1930s, Frank Meier, who ran the bar at the Ritz Hotel in Paris from
some time in the 1910s until he died in 1947, took the rather pedestrian Texas Fizz that had been floating
around London and Paris and made one simple substitution that changed it from being an average drink to
a great one. That switch? Lose the soda water, add Champagne. So simple. So good.

Ingredients:
1½ oz. Plymouth gin
½ oz. fresh lemon juice
¾ oz. fresh-squeezed orange juice
1 barspoon grenadine, or more to taste
2 to 3 oz. chilled Perrier-Jouët Brut Champagne.
Procedure: Shake everything but the champagne well with ice and strain into a tall Champagne flute. Top
off with the Champagne.

24) Tom & Jerry

This is not an easy drink to make, but there are few things more welcome on a cold December night. In
the nineteenth century, bars used to keep a bowl of the batter ready and waiting every day during the
coldest months. That might be going a bit far these days, but if you break out the Tom & Jerry on a frosty
night (as bars in the upper Midwest still do), your customers will make sure you don’t regret it.

Ingredients:
12 eggs
2 lbs. white sugar
2 750-ml bottles Martell VSOP cognac
2 750-ml bottles dark, full-bodied rum
2 quarts whole milk

Spice mix:
1½ teaspoons ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground allspice
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
1 whole nutmeg
1 teaspoon cream of tartar

Procedure: First, make the batter: Separate the eggs. Combine all the ground spices in a small bowl. Put
the whites into a glass, plastic or stainless-steel bowl and beat them into stiff peaks. In another bowl (if
you can get a real Tom & Jerry bowl, so much the better), beat the yolks, gradually incorporating two
ounces of the rum and the spice mix. When they are completely liquid, gradually add the sugar, stirring
until the mixture attains the consistency of a light batter. Carefully fold the whites into the yolks until
thoroughly incorporated. To prevent separation, add the cream of tartar. Keep this batter refrigerated until
needed.

To serve: Bring the milk to a low simmer. Put a heaping tablespoon of the batter in a small mug or
tumbler and stir in one ounce each of the cognac and the rum (these can be pre-mixed for speed). Fill to
the top with hot milk and stir until you get foam. Grate a little fresh nutmeg on top.

25) Vieux Carré

Just before Prohibition, Walter Bergeron, a journeyman New Orleans bartender, got lucky and secured
himself a job behind the stick at the swank Hotel Monteleone in the French Quarter. Then there was
Prohibition, and he found himself working day labor and selling cigars and whatever else bartenders had
to do to get by. Fourteen years later, it was legal to drink again, and lo and behold, the Monteleone called
him back behind the stick. As if to say “thank you,” he brought them this, one of the great New Orleans
drinks.

Ingredients:
1 oz. Martell VSOP cognac
1 oz. Lot 40 Canadian Rye whisky
1 oz. Italian sweet vermouth
1 barspoon Bénédictine
2 dashes Angostura bitters
2 dashes Peychaud’s bitters
Procedure: Stir well with cracked ice, strain into a chilled cocktail glass and twist the lemon peel over the
top.

David Wondrich’s Aperitif Cocktail

“Some of my favorite (and most successful) drinks have been made following this pattern. As long as the
basic ingredients don’t clash—this will require some experimentation— it makes for a simple and tasty
before-dinner drink. It’s based on the original versions of the Manhattan and the Martini, so it’s been
tried and approved by generations of discriminating drinkers.” —DW

50 to 60 ml base spirit (or a mix of two different base spirits)

25 to 30 ml low-proof aperitif (vermouth, Lillet, Aperol or similar) or fortified wine (use a lighter wine,
such as dry sherry, for white spirits and a heavier one, such as port, for brown spirits).
1 barspoon liqueur (this is for accent, and a good way to use the more pungent herbal liqueurs)
2 dashes bitters (orange bitters for lighter drinks; Angostura, Peychaud’s or other aromatic bitters for
heavier ones)
Stir and strain.
Twist lemon or orange peel over the top.

Dale DeGroff’s Basic Sour

“When I first started to solve the problem of sweet and sour drinks that fateful day in 1985 when Joe
Baum forever banished sour mix from his bars, I spent weeks, nay months and eventually years grappling
for a way to pull this off, given the larger glasses most on-premise outfits use today, the total lack of
training anyone had in this area and the general tolerance the public has for sweet versus sour.
Eventually, I hit on this basic formula to use in all sweet-and-sour drinks. It has been tested with
thousands and thousands of customers at the Rainbow Room, Windows on the World and beyond. That
said, it isn’t carved in stone; it’s simply what vast experience has demonstrated will please most of the
people most of the time. Your clientele may differ, but odds are pretty good they won’t.” —DD
50 to 60 ml base spirit
25 ml sweetener (1-to-1 simple syrup, or honey or agave nectar diluted with equal parts warm water and
cooled)
25 ml fresh-squeezed lemon or lime juice
Shake and strain.

Creating New Cocktails

Inventing new drinks is fun and easy. Inventing good new drinks is another matter, particularly if you’re
going for something that has never been made before. So before you begin, consider for a moment that
the world doesn’t absolutely need a new cocktail. If the drink you create is merely new and not also
delicious and unique, it may be better to let it wither on the vine.

Some of the most successful bars prefer to use forgotten classics from books such as the 1930 Savoy
Cocktail Book, which is still in print, for their signature drinks rather than to create something entirely
new. There’s no shame in that— far from it, it shows a pleasing humility. That said, if you’re going to go
for it anyway, here are some basic principles to bear in mind.

Simple Substitution
The easiest way to come up with a new cocktail is to take an existing one and change one of the
ingredients for something similar, but not too similar. This can be very successful—some experts believe
that’s how the mighty Martini itself came to be, when somebody switched the whiskey
in a Manhattan for gin. It’s certainly how the Vodka Martini came to be, and a host of other drinks—e.g.,
the Tuxedo (a Martini with dry sherry in place of dry vermouth), the Rob Roy and the Emerald
(Manhattans with Scotch whisky and Irish whiskey, respectively, in place of the rye), and the French 75
(a Tom Collins with Champagne instead of soda water).

When substituting, first try using things that are comparable in pungency, proof and level of sweetness:
for dry vermouth, for instance, try dry sherry (as above), white port, or even a light, dry wine. For sweet
vermouth, on the other hand, try ruby port, a sweet sherry (such as a medium dry oloroso or an East
India), or a dessert wine.

Complex Substitution
As anybody who’s ever attempted home remodeling knows, it’s not easy to change one thing without
having to change a bunch of other stuff, too. The classic example of this is the Margarita, which can be
viewed as nothing more than a tequila Sidecar. The Sidecar is two parts brandy to one part each lemon
juice and Cointreau, served in a sugar-rimmed glass.

Once you drop the brandy in favor of tequila, you’re going to want to change a couple of other things,
too. In Mexico, tequila often goes with a wedge of lime and a pinch of salt. So a tequila Sidecar should
probably have lime juice instead of lemon, and a salt rim instead of a sugar one (a touch of pure genius,
that). In other words, be aware that if your simple substitution drink isn’t everything you want it to be,
you may be just one more little change away from paradise.

Alteration of Scale and Temperature

Another simple way of coming up with a new drink is by stretching or squeezing: a short drink (one
generally served straight up) can often be turned into a perfectly pleasant long drink or cooler, and while
the reverse doesn’t work out quite as often, it’s not impossible. With the venerable Mint Julep, you might
consider waltzing it around in a shaker for a bit and straining it into a cocktail glass.

Likewise, a Suburban Cocktail—rye whiskey, port and dark rum, with bitters—can make a pretty fine
cooler with a little club soda. In general, it’s safe to say that the fuller-flavored cocktails are your best
candidates for stretching; once you pour club soda into a Vodka Martini, you’re left
with not much at all. One thing to be conscious of is the fact that the greater dilution present in a tall drink
allows for a much higher level of sweetness than one looks for in a well-adjusted cocktail.

Pattern
This is another way of looking at substitution. Many, even most, drinks are put together according to a
limited number of basic patterns.

The Martini, the Manhattan and the Rob Roy all combine a relatively high-proof base liquor with a lower-
proof aperitif or fortified wine, usually in proportions of about one to one to two to one (although the Dry
Martini broke out of that mold and drastically cut back the lower-proof stuff). This is a combination that
works very well with a couple of dashes of bitters.

The Margarita, the Sidecar and a host of less-famous drinks all combine liquor with (sour) citrus juice and
(sweet) liqueur in a ratio of about two parts liquor to one each of liqueur and citrus (some prefer a little
less citrus). The liqueur can easily be replaced by simple syrup.

There are a few others—the Stinger-Rusty Nail group, for one, which combines one to three parts liquor
with one part liqueur; this group is often consumed after dinner. If there’s a particular drink you like, it’s
a worthwhile exercise to break it down into a pattern and build a new drink from scratch following the
same pattern, but making substitutions in every slot.
Whimsy
Who wants to be analytical all the time? Some of the best drinks happen from somebody wondering,
“what happens if I mix this and this?” On the other hand, so do some of the worst. But there’s no harm in
trying. If there’s a particular flavor you like or an odd bottle of something or other you’ve got lying
around, or a weird idea just pops into your head, there’s no harm in trying it. Sometimes you throw things
together and it just works. Sometimes it doesn’t. If it doesn’t, at least you’ve learned something.

Don’t Forget the Bitters

One thing worth always bearing in mind is that bitters help flavors blend. We’re not sure exactly how;
perhaps it’s because they mask the most volatile parts, the front-of-the-palate parts, of the ingredients’
taste profiles and let the secondary flavors come through. In any case, a couple of dashes of bitters can
work like the shotgun at a wedding. Useful to know.

The Name and The Legend

Finally, your drink needs a name, and preferably a story to go with it. For the name, try to find one that
doesn’t scream out “frat party” or “Girls Gone Wild,” and at all costs don’t call it an anything –tini or -
rita. You want to convince people that your drink is worthy of grown-up consideration; you want respect.
In general, the name should be short, snappy and slightly mysterious—you want people to ask themselves
why it’s called that, because once they do that,
the next thing you know, they’ll be ordering it.

What Is BarSmarts Advanced?

BarSmarts Advanced is offered a few times during the year in different cities. We will notify all
BarSmarts grads when a new location is launched. The LIVE day includes a full day of tastings,
history, cocktail demonstrations and testing with the renowned BAR, LLC team – Dale DeGroff, Doug
Frost, Steven Olson, F. Paul Pacult, Andy Seymour and Dave Wondrich. There is no online work to be
completed. However, we suggest reviewing all of your BarSmarts materials prior to the LIVE day, as you
will need to complete a 100-question exam. You will also be asked to take a practical test in front of one
judge – so make sure you know your “Classic 25 Drinks Every Bartender Should Know” from this
Module. Challenge yourself and take your BarSmarts certification to the next level!

For more information on BarSmarts Advanced and upcoming dates, go to our website –
www.barsmarts.com or email us at info@barsmarts.com.
BarSmarts Appendices
CONVERSION TABLE
1 barspoon 5 milliliters
¼ oz. 8 milliliters
½ oz. 15 milliliters
¾ oz. 22 milliliters
1 oz. 30 milliliters
1 ½ oz. 45 milliliters
1 ¾ oz. 52 milliliters
2 oz. ¼ cup 60 milliliters
8 oz. 1 cup 240 milliliters
½ bottle 12.7 oz. 375 milliliters
1 wine bottle 24.4 oz. 750 milliliters

RECOMMENDED READING
DeGroff, Dale. The Craft of the Cocktail. New York: Clarkson Potter, 2002.

DeGroff, Dale. The Essential Cocktail: The Art of Mixing Perfect Drinks. New York: Clarkson Potter,
2008.

Difford, Simon. Difford’s Encyclopedia of Cocktails. Ontario, Canada. Firefly Books Ltd, 2009.

Guthrie, R. Winston with Thompson, James F. A Taste for Absinthe: 65 Recipes for Classic &
Contemporary Cocktails. New York. Clarkson Potter, 2010.

Haigh, Ted. Vintage Spirits & Forgotten Cocktails. Gloucester, MA: Quarry Books, 2004.

Hamilton, William L. Shaken and Stirred. New York: HarperCollins, 2004.

Meehan, Jim & Chris Call. The PDT Cocktail Book. New York. Sterling Epicure. 2011.

Regan, Gary. The Joy of Mixology. New York: Clarkson Potter, 2003.

Wondrich, David. Killer Cocktails. New York: HarperCollins, 2005.

Wondrich, David. IMBIBE! A Salute in Stories and Drinks to “Professor” Jerry Thomas, Pioneer of the
American Bar. New York. Berkley, 2007.

Wondrich, David. PUNCH: The delights (and Dangers) of the Flowing Bowl. New York. Berkley, 2010.

Broom, Dave. Rum. San Francisco: Wine Appreciation Guild, 2003.

Coates, Geraldine. Classic Gin. London: Prion Books, 2000.

Curtis, Wayne. And a Bottle of RUM: A History of the New World in Ten Cocktails. New York. Crown
Publishers, 2006.
Dillon, Patrick. Gin: The Much-Lamented Death of Madam Geneva. Boston. Justin, Charles & Co. 2003.

Faith, Nicholas. Cognac. London: Mitchell Beazley, 2004.

Faith, Nicholas, and Ian Wisniewski. Classic Vodka. London: Prion Books, 1997.

F. Paul Pacult’s Spirit Journal. Quarterly newsletter of spirits reviews, news and information.
Subscription only. www.spiritjournal.com

Gabányi, Stefan. Whisk(e)y. New York: Abbeville Press, 1997.

Gregory, Conal R. The Cognac Companion. Philadelphia: Running Press, 1997.

Hamilton, Edward. The Complete Guide to Rum. Chicago: Triumph Books, 1997.

Jackson, Michael. Michael Jackson’s Complete Guide to Single Malt Scotch. Philadelphia: Running
Press,1999.

Jones, Andrew. The Aperitif Companion. New York: Knickerbocker Press, 1998.

MacLean, Charles. Malt whisky. London: Mitchell Beazley, 1997.

Murray, Jim. Classic Irish Whiskey. London: Prion Books, 1997.

Neal, Charles. Armagnac. San Francisco: Flame Grape Press, 1998.

Neal, Charles. Calvados. San Francisco: Flame Grape Press, 2011.

Pacult, F. Paul. A Double Scotch: How Chivas Regal and The Glenlivet Became Global Icons. Hoboken,
NJ: John Wiley & Sons, 2005.

Pacult, F. Paul. American Still Life: The Jim Beam Story and the Making of the World’s #1 Bourbon.
Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley & Sons, 2003.

Pacult, F. Paul. Kindred Spirits 2: 2,400 Reviews of Whiskey, Brandy, Vodka, Rum, Tequila, Gin and
Liqueurs from F. Paul Pacult’s Spirit Journal 2000-2007. Wallkill, NY. Spirit Journal Inc. 2008

Pessey, Christian. The Little Book of Cognac. Paris: Flammarion, 2002.

Regan, Gary, and Mardee Haidin Regan. The Bourbon Companion. Philadelphia: Running Press,
1998.

Regan, Gaz. The Bartender’s GIN Compendium. New York. Xlibris, 2009.

Ackerman, Diane. A Natural History of the Senses. New York, NY: Vintage Books – Random House,
1990.

Amis, Kingsley. Everyday Drinking: The Distilled Kingsley Amis. New York, Bloomsbury, 2008.

Gately, Iain. DRINK: A Cultural History of Alcohol. New York, Gotham Books, 2008.
Holland, Barbara. The Joy of Drinking. New York, Bloomsbury, 2007.

Katsigris, Costas, Mary Porter, Chris Thomas. The Bar & Beverage Book. Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley
& Sons, 2003.

McGovern, Patrick E. Uncorking the Past: The Quest for Wine, Beer, and Other Alcoholic Beverages.
Berkeley. University of California Press, 2009.

Plotkin, Robert. The Professional Bartender’s Training Manual, 3rd ed. Tucson, AZ: BarMedia, 2004.

Plotkin, Robert, with Steve Goumas. Successful Beverage Management. Tucson, AZ: BarMedia, 2000.

Standage, Tom. A History of the World in 6 Glasses. New York, Walker & Company, 2005.

Stewart, Amy. The Drunken Botanist: The Plants That Create the World’s Great Drinks. North Carolina.
Chapel Hill Books, 2013.

Wakefield, Dr. Kirk. 10 Steps to Successful Bar & Restaurant Management. Oxford, MS: Oxford
Publishing, 1999.

SUGGESTED RESOURCES FOR BAR SUPPLIES & GLASSWARE

www.cocktailkingdom.com: high-end bar tools and accessories.

www.BarProducts.com: resource for all standard bar tools, good prices.

www.IsiNorthAmerica.com: isi products, Thermo Crème Canisters, and soda siphons for foam
(espuma) preparations. Also call 800-447-2426 for isiNorth America Inc.

www.Kold-Draft.com: Manufacturer of ice machines that produce cold, dense ice cubes in three sizes.
Call 800-840-9577

www.Minners.com: Manhattan showroom for all types of bar glassware.

www.UltimateBarChef.com: top-quality products including premium spirits, mixers, garnishes, bar

tools, glassware and services.
BarSmarts Glossary
Absinthe: A distillate steeped with or rectified with several herbal and botanical ingredients, including
wormwood oil, which was responsible for the nearly worldwide ban on the production of absinthe, when
it was determined that it contained thujone, a strong drug that causes epileptic- type seizures when taken
in large quantities. There is scientific agreement today that absinthe’s high proof (130°) was more
problematic than the chemicals in the herbal ingredients in their tiny amounts.

Agave: A large plant indigenous to South and Central America that looks like a cross between a giant
pineapple and a cactus. The plant is actually a member of the lily family. There are hundreds of varieties
of agave, cultivated and wild. The Weber Blue Agave is used to make tequila.

Aguardiente: “Burning water,” the word used in Spanish-speaking countries for brandy.

Akvavit, Akavit, Aquavit: Grain-based spirit made in Scandinavian countries, flavored with different
herbs, the most common of which are caraway and fennel.

Alembic or Alembic still: The pot still, thought to have originated in China and brought to the West by
the Moors, who introduced it to continental Europe on the Iberian Peninsula. The root of the word is the
Arabic for “still”, al-inbiq.

Ale: A beer made with yeast that work on the top of the mash during fermentation. Ale is the oldest style
of beer, usually served fresh without aging.

Amaretto: Almond and apricot-flavored liqueur, originally made in Italy, but now made in other
countries as well.

Amaro: A category of Italian liqueurs made with bitter herbs, usually served after a meal as a digestivo.

Angostura bitters: First created in 1824 as a stomach tonic for Bolivar’s jungle-weary troops. Originally
produced in the town of Angostura in Venezuela, but today in Port of Spain, Trinidad. The formula for
Angostura is secret, but the top flavor notes are cinnamon, allspice, and clove, 45% alcohol.

Anisette: A liqueur made in many countries (but originally France) that is flavored with aniseed.

Aperitif: Any drink before the main meal to stimulate the palate. This can encompass anything from
wine and cocktails to Champagne.

Applejack: An American brandy made from a mash of at least 51% apples that is fermented then
distilled, usually bottled at 40% alcohol; since this is aged in the same way as American whiskey, it is
also sometimes called “apple whiskey.”

Aqua vitae: Literally means “water of life;” Latin for spirits.

Arak, Arrack, Raki: A distillation originally made from date palm, now also from rice and sugar cane.
Today it is made in the Middle East, India and Southeast Asia.

Aromatized wines: Wines that are flavored with herbs, spices and fruits; examples include vermouth and
other French and Italian apéritif wines.
Armagnac: French brandy from southern France. Either double distilled in pot stills or single distilled in
a small continuous still, armagnac is considered a stronger style than cognac. There are three regions in
Armagnac as defined by the AOC, Bas Armagnac (the best), Tenareze and Haut Armagnac.

Blended Scotch Whisky: A blend of single-malt whiskies (pot still/100-percent malted barley) and
mixed-grain whisky (continuous still/corn or wheat) made in Scotland. The whiskies are aged separately,
then blended and married for several months in casks before being reduced to bottling strength. With a
couple of exceptions, blended Scotch whisky is the best choice for cocktails.

Blended Straight Whiskey: A blend of 100 percent straight whiskeys of the same type, i.e. Rye bourbon,
or corn from different distillers or from different seasons within one distillery.

Blended Whiskey: A minimum of 20 percent straight whiskeys at 100 proof that are blended with neutral
grain whiskey or light whiskey.

Blue Agave Tequila: 100 percent Blue Agave tequila is distilled from the fermented sugars of the Weber
Blue Agave plant only, and must be bottled in Mexico. Like all tequila, 100 percent Blue Agave tequila
can be aged or unaged. Agave plants take eight to ten years to mature to the point where they can be used
for tequila production, so the tequila made from 100 percent Agave is more expensive to produce than
mixto, or blended tequila.

Bonded Whiskey: Whiskey bottled “in bond” is stored in a government warehouse for anywhere
between four and twenty years while it ages. It is not taxed until after it is bottled, a practice started in the
nineteenth century to protect the whiskey maker from paying tax on spirits that evaporated during aging.
Bonded whiskey is bottled at 100 proof, under government supervision.

Boston Shaker: A two-piece cocktail shaker comprised of a mixing glass and a slightly larger metal
mixing cup that fits over it.

Bourbon: American whiskey made from a mash of between 51 and 80 percent corn (a small amount of
barley, with either rye or wheat may be used), aged at least two years in new charred oak barrels.

Brandy: Distilled spirit derived from fermented fruit, usually aged in barrels.

Cachaça: A sugarcane spirit made in Brazil, usually distilled from fresh cut cane and bottled without oak
aging. The Caipirinha is the most famous cocktail made with cachaça.

Calvados: An aged brandy made from up to 48 different apples (and even a few pears) in the Normandy
region of France. The finest calvados is double distilled in a pot still in the Pays d’Auge district, then aged
for a minimum of six years.

Cassis or Crème de Cassis: A liqueur made from black currants that is classic in a drink called a Kir, in
which a small amount of cassis is added to a glass of white table wine. The Kir Royale is the same drink
made with Champagne instead.

Cobblers: Wine- or spirit-based drinks made with sugar and water over lots of shaved ice and decorated
with a generous garnish of fresh fruit. Some cobblers were shaken with fruit, like the Whiskey Cobbler.

Coffee Liqueurs: Made around the world, usually bottled between 25 and 30 percent alcohol, two well-
known brands are Kahlua and Tia Maria.
Congeners: Impurities carried along with the molecules of alcohol vapor during distillation. They may
derive from the base fruit or grain used in the original mash, or other organic chemicals encountered
during the different stages of beverage alcohol production. The congeners are the elements that give a
spirit its distinctive taste and aroma.

Continuous or Patent Still: The two-column still that was invented in the 1820s by Robert Stein and
Aeneas Coffey.

Cordials: Sweet liqueurs flavored with fruits, herbs, botanicals and spices. Most cordials are under 35
percent alcohol with some notable exceptions, such as Chartreuse (80 proof).

Crusta: A nineteenth century New Orleans drink that featured a sugar-rimmed stem glass garnished with
a long spiral of lemon zest around the whole inside rim of the glass. The drink could be made with any
spirits, the most common of which were gin, brandy, whiskey and rum, mixed with lemon juice, simple
syrup, bitters and a sweet liqueur (such as maraschino), shaken and served over crushed ice.

Curaçao: A liqueur first made from small bitter Curaçao oranges; now made in many countries, it comes
in white, orange, and blue—the color being the only difference.

Distillation: The process of separating parts of a liquid mixture through evaporation and condensation.
Distillation is used to produce concentrated beverage alcohol, called ethanol.

Eau-de-Vie: French for “water of life,” but more specifically, a type of brandy made from fermented
mash of fruit; only rarely aged in oak barrels. Eau de vie has evolved to be defined as a group of unaged
digestif brandies made from stone fruits and other fruits like raspberries and strawberries.

Esters: Acid compounds resulting from distillation that give aroma to spirits.

Ethyl Alcohol: Beverage alcohol produced by the fermentation of a sugar solution.

Extra Añejo Tequila: A tequila that has been aged for at least three years in small oak barrels;
production standards are tightly controlled by the government.

Fermentation: A process that converts sugar into heat, carbon dioxide gas and ethyl alcohol. A
microorganism, called yeast, accomplishes this change.

Fizz: A spin-off of the sour, made possible by the appearance of “charged (or sparkling) water” in the
mid-nineteenth century.

Flip: Colonial drinks made either with beer or rum and some sweetener (though another version
adds cream and eggs). Flips became much more sophisticated in the cocktail age, when they were made
with sugar, a whole egg and sherry or some spirit, shaken very well and served in a cocktail glass.

Fortified Wines: Wines with added alcohol, such as port, vermouth, Madeira, and sherry.

Frappé: Drink served over snow or crushed ice.

Genever (also known as junever, genievre, jenever, jeniever, peket or in England as Geneva,
Hollands or Holland gin): The juniper-flavored and strongly alcoholic traditional liquor made from malt
wine in the Netherlands, Belgium and Northern France (Nord département), from which gin evolved. It
first appears in the historical record in Germany at the end of the 1400s.
Gin: Grain spirit flavored with botanicals, specifically genièvre or juniper, and other flavors, including
coriander, lemon peel, fennel, cassia, anise, almond, gingerroot, orange peel, angelica and others.

Ginger Beer: A spicy soft drink, usually carbonated, made from gingerroot; originated in Jamaica.

Grappa: Spirit made from the left over skins, seeds and stems left over after grapes are pressed for wine.
Grappa is usually unaged.

Grenadine: Sweet red syrup used in alcoholic and nonalcoholic drinks. The original flavor base was
pomegranate, but many brands use artificial flavor.

Infusion: A method used in the production of fruit liqueurs, where fruit and other flavors are steeped in
brandy for any extended time. After infusion, the mixture is strained, lowered to bottle proof with water,
sweetened with sugar syrup and bottled.

Irish Whiskey: A triple-distilled whiskey from Ireland, and a blend of pot-stilled malt whiskey, pot
stilled unmalted barley whiskey, and column-stilled grain whiskey. The malt used for Irish whiskey is
usually not kilned or toasted with peat, so there is no smoky quality.

Julep: A historically popular American drink that has evolved into a bourbon drink mixed with fresh
mint and sugar, served in a frosted silver cup over shaved ice.

Layering: Maintaining separate visible layers in a drink by slowly pouring over the back of a spoon held
inside the glass. The most famous layered drink is the Pousse Café.

Maceration: Maceration is the steeping of herbs, botanicals or fruits in spirits of some kind for a period
of time, after which the whole mixture may be distilled again. This process is used to flavor different
types of spirits, such as liqueurs.

Madeira: Fortified wine from the Portuguese island of Madeira, these are reputed to be among the
longest-lived wines in the world, lasting well over a hundred years in some cases. Madeira seemed to
improve in the steaming holds of sailing ships during long voyages. Today many Madeira makers re-
create this cooking of the wine in a process, called estufagem, where aging warehouses are heated to over
a hundred degrees to simulate the heat in the hold of a sailing vessel.

Maraschino Liqueur: A sweet, clear liqueur made from marasca cherries and cherry pits. Maraschino
was a popular ingredient in early punches (especially champagne punches) and cocktails; it is almost
never drunk straight.

Marc: The skins and seeds left over from the pressing in winemaking in France. Marc is fermented and
distilled into a brandy of the same name that is similar to grappa; usually unaged or lightly aged.

Marsala: A fortified wine from Marsala, Sicily, in which a base wine is made and concentrates of boiled-
down wine and grape juice mixed with spirits are blended into the wine. Most are aged in solera style
systems.

Mash: A sweet and soupy blend of water and grains, prior to its fermentation by yeasts, into something
like beer.
Mezcal: The general category of which tequila is a subcategory. To be clearer, all tequila is mezcal but all
mezcal is not tequila. Mezcal is made primarily in Oaxaca, Mexico, from the espadin species of agave,
and it has a smoky quality from the slow baking of the agave piña in clay ovens over hot rocks.

Mistelle: A blend of raw grape juice and spirits sometimes used as a base for apéritif fortified wines, such
as vermouth, and sometimes bottled as a stand-alone product, as in Pineau des Charentes.

Mixto: A tequila variety that consists of at least 51 percent blue agave, but also contains sugars
from cane or other sources.

Muddler: A wooden tool shaped like the grinding tool of a mortar and pestle used to mash fruit and herbs
with sugar or liqueur in the bottom of a bar mixing glass. This technique is essential for making Old-
Fashioneds and Caipirinhas.

Old-Fashioned Glass: Holds 8 to 10 ounces of liquid and is often referred to as the “rocks” glass.

Orange Bitters: Alcohol-based bitters flavored with orange peel and other botanicals, it was a
popular cocktail additive prior to Prohibition and was an ingredient in the first Dry Martini at the
Knickerbocker Hotel, but was dropped in later recipes.

Orgeat Syrup: A milky, sweet almond syrup used extensively in baking. Orgeat is the often forgotten
ingredient in Victor Bergeron’s classic Mai Tai cocktail.

Ouzo: Greek anise-flavored liqueur.

Perry: Cider made from pears or a combination of pears and apples.

Peychaud’s Bitters: Antoine Peychaud of New Orleans created an all-purpose flavoring and health tonic
in 1793 from herbs and Caribbean spices that is believed to be the first commercial bitters in the
Americas.

Port: Fortified wine from the Douro Valley of Portugal; comes in several styles, including vintage,
vintage character, ruby, tawny and white. The grape varieties are numerous including Touriga Nacional,
Bastardo, Tinta Francesa, Tinta Cao and Souzao.

Proof: the alcoholic strength of a liquor, expressed by a number that is twice the percentage by volume
of alcohol present. So, for example if a product is 80 proof it is 40% alcohol.

Pulque: The milky, low-alcohol (5 to 7 percent), fermented drink made from syrupy agave juice, used
centuries ago in Aztec rituals in Mexico. Mistakenly perceived by many ill-informed people to be the
base for present-day tequila and mezcal, which is not, since pulque cannot be successfully distilled.

Punch: A five-ingredient drink made with sweet, sour, strong (spirits), spicy and weak (water)
ingredients. Originated in India and popular in Colonial America and all over eighteenth century Europe.

Rectifying: Used to describe many different operations. Basically, it means to change a spirit in
some way after it has been distilled. Those changes can include redistilling, adding flavor or color and
adding water to lower to bottle-proof strength.
Rhum/Rum: Made from molasses, sugarcane juice or syrup, it was first produced in Barbados and
Jamaica, traditionally double distilled. Rhum Agricole, made in the French-speaking Caribbean islands, is
made from sugarcane juice, not molasses.

Rye: Whiskey aged for two years, with 51 percent or more rye in the mashbill.

Sake: Japanese beer (the Japanese call it wine, but it’s made from grain, not grapes) made from
fermented rice and usually sold at 18 percent alcohol or slightly higher.

Sambuca: Anise-based licorice-flavored Italian after-dinner liqueur often taken with coffee.

Sangria: A beverage originating in Spain made with red wine, sugar and fruits; garnished with fresh
fruits and berries. There are lots of recipes to make sangria, but there should always be red wine and
fruits.

Schnapps: A Scandinavian and German term for strong, colorless spirits, it is also used slang for any
strong spirit. Today schnapps is a popular category of low-end fruit and spice spirits made by many
different companies.

Sherry: Spanish fortified wine from the province of Cadiz. Sherry is made in two basic types: Fino
(always dry) and Oloroso (usually sweet and aged). Fino sherry has a long second fermentation during
which a yeast scum known as flor grows on top of the wine, adding flavor and protecting the wine from
oxygen. All sherry is fermented dry; most oloroso sherry is sweetened with Pedro Ximenez, a very sweet
(mostly) unfermented grape juice. Sherry is also often blended and aged by the solera system, a process of
blending young wine with older wine to achieve complexity in a shorter period of time.

Shochu: A spirit distilled in Japan (as Shochu) and Korea (as Soju) from a great variety of base
materials, including sweet potatoes, rice, buckwheat, carrots, molasses and many other raw
products. Korean Soju is perhaps the world’s most popular spirit.

Shooters: One-oz. shots of cocktails or straight spirits like Jagermeister that are downed in one gulp.
Shooters are illegal in some states where the law prohibits serving more than one beverage at a time to a
guest.

Simple Syrup: Syrup made from mixing equal parts sugar and water.

Single-Malt Whisky: A 100 percent malted barley-based spirit produced in copper pot stills by a single
distillery in Scotland. Bottled straight or used as a blending agent in Blended Scotch.

Sloe Gin: A misnomer for a liqueur made from wild plums called sloe berries. It is not a style of gin.
Plymouth Sloe Gin is the quintessential example of the liqueur genre.

Sours: Cocktails made with a strong, sweet, and a sour ingredient. Those ingredients can vary widely
from one sour to the next, but the proportions should remain the same. The proportions that appeal to the
widest audience are one part sour to one part sweet to two parts strong.

Straight Whiskey: Any whiskey made with at least 51 percent of any single grain in the mashbill, and
distilled to not more than 160 proof.

Tequila: Produced in Mexico, derived from the Agave plant. There are four categories of aging of
tequila: Blanco or silver is bottled after resting in stainless tanks for up to sixty days. Reposado is rested
but in any size of wood container for sixty days to a year, and añejo is aged a minimum of one year in oak
barrels. Extra Añejo is aged in oak barrels for a minimum of three years. Gold tequila is typically colored
with caramel, but not aged.

Tonic Water: A carbonated water that historically contains quinine and sugar. Contemporary examples
usually have no quinine but contain other similarly bitter flavors.

Triple Sec: A liqueur made from the Curaçao oranges, produced in many countries. Triple sec is mostly a
mixer and, unlike Cointreau, is almost never taken straight.

Uisge beatha or Usquebaugh: Literally translated to “water of life,” the old word for whisky in the
British Isles. The first two syllables are nearly pronounced “oosky,” and the word “whisky” is a direct
lineage.

Vermouth: Fortified and flavored wine made in sweet or dry styles, used in cocktails and as an apéritif.
The word originated from the German word for the wormwood plant, wermuth.

Vodka: From voda, the Russian word for “water,” vodka is distilled from grain and sometimes potatoes,
and is mostly tasteless and odorless.

VS, VSOP, XO brandies: Very Special, and Very Superior Old Pale, and Extra Old are designations
used in Cognac and Armagnac (and other brandy regions) to indicate minimum aging for their brandies.
The actual ages for the three designations vary from region to region.

Wort: Cereal grain that has been malted (or sprouted) and has converted many of its starches into sugars.
Beer makers will typically roast the grain to stop the malting, and then cook it with water so that the
sugar-rich grain soup, the wort, is ready to be fermented.

Whiskey/Whisky: From the Gaelic word, uisge beatha, meaning “water of life,” whiskey is made from
grain that is ground into grist, then cooked with water to release starches. Malt is added to convert the
starch into sugar, and then yeast to begin the fermentation process. The low- proof liquid after
fermentation is called beer, and after distillation becomes whiskey.
Responsible Service
All BarSmarts graduates are eligible for a 25% discount on the TIPS course. You will be notified of
signup information when you receive your BarSmarts certification.

Acceptable Standards of Serving Alcohol, Provided by TIPS

Pernod Ricard USA and BAR LLC encourage all BarSmarts participants to read the following
TIPS Guidelines to responsible service. The TIPS (Training for Intervention ProcedureS) program is
designed to teach acceptable standards of practice for serving alcohol. You can obtain TIPS certification
by attending an instructor-led session, becoming certified as a TIPS trainer (enabling you to train other
people) or completing the online eTIPS course. For more information on any of these options, visit TIPS
online at www.gettips.com or call 800-438-8477. BarSmarts people are responsible people!

Responsible Service Overview

As a bartender, you have an important job. Your guests count on you to help them enjoy themselves and
have a good time. Your managers rely on you to help make your establishment popular and profitable.
You may think these are conflicting priorities, but they don’t have to be once you understand how alcohol
affects your guests and the legal responsibilities you have to prevent alcohol-related tragedies. Through
the TIPS course, you will learn:

•   How alcohol affects your guests.

•   Steps to prevent underage drinking.
•   Intervention strategies for preventing problems.
•   Your legal responsibilities as an alcohol server.
•   Reasonable efforts to protect you and your establishment.
•   The importance and benefits of becoming certified in a responsible alcohol service program.

How Alcohol Affects Your Guests

Consuming alcohol has both physical and mental effects on your guests. Part of your job is to monitor
your guests’ consumption and watch for any visible signs of intoxication. Your best tool for assessing a
guest’s level of intoxication is Behavioral Cues. There are four cues to watch for that can tell you whether
someone is or is becoming intoxicated.

1.   Inhibitions – Becoming talkative and relaxed, or displaying a notable change in behavior, can
indicate lowered inhibitions.
2.   Judgment – Behaving inappropriately, annoying others or increasing the rate of drinking are
examples of poor judgment.
3.   Reactions – Glassy, unfocused eyes, talking and moving slowly or having difficulty with small
motor skills demonstrate slowed reactions.
4.   Coordination – Stumbling or swaying, dropping things and passing out are all signs of a loss of
coordination.

The Behavioral Cues occur progressively as guests consume more alcohol. But people are affected by
alcohol at different rates. This is due to the impact of Intoxication Rate Factors, which can help you
determine how quickly someone is likely to become impaired.
1.   Size – Smaller people are sometimes affected more quickly than larger people.
2.   Gender – Women tend to become impaired faster because they are smaller and have a higher
percentage of body fat, which does not absorb alcohol.
3.   Rate of Consumption – The faster someone drinks, the more quickly he or she will become
impaired.
 4.   Strength of the Drink – Each drink contains a different amount of pure alcohol, which causes
intoxication.
5.   Food – Eating before drinking alcohol can slow the absorption of alcohol into the bloodstream.
6.   Drug Use – Alcohol is a drug, and can interact unpredictably with other drugs, including over-
the-counter, prescription and illegal drugs.

Intoxication Rate Factors impact how quickly a guest’s Blood Alcohol Content, or BAC, will rise. BAC is
the legal measurement of the amount of alcohol in a person’s blood. In most areas, the legal limit for
driving is a BAC of .08. As a bartender, it is impossible for you to determine a guest’s BAC. But there are
some important guidelines to remember:

•   The more alcohol a person consumes, the higher the BAC level will be.
•   A guest’s BAC level can be different each time he or she drinks.
•   The higher the BAC level, the more behavioral cues you are likely to see.
•   Time is the only thing that can lower a guest’s BAC level. Cold showers, food and coffee will not
have an impact.

Steps to Prevent Underage Drinking

In addition to not serving alcohol to intoxicated guests, you also need to prevent alcohol service to
underage guests. In the United States, the legal age to consume alcohol in all states is twenty-one. As a
bartender, you can prevent underage drinking by always checking ID for your guests, and watching for
Underage Warning Signs.

1.   Always Check ID:

a.   Ask each guest to present a valid form of ID.
b.   Check the ID thoroughly, including the date of birth, expiration date, photo and physical
description and issuing authority.
c.   Look for any signs that the ID has been tampered with or altered.
d.   When you have doubts, either ask for a second form of ID or refuse to serve.
2.   Watch for Underage Warning Signs: Guests who are underage may exhibit any of the following
behaviors:
a.   Seem nervous and move around frequently.
b.   Be in the restroom when the group orders for him or her.
c.   Come to the bar to order drinks for a table full of people.
d.   Get upset when asked for ID.

Intervention Strategies
Once you have assessed your guest’s intoxication level and whether he or she is underage, the next step is
to respond effectively. The following Intervention Guidelines can help you resolve situations with guests
without creating confrontations that escalate into bigger problems.
1.   Decide on an appropriate response based on your guest’s behavioral cues. Be sure your response
to the situation is proportionate to the circumstances.
2.   Make clear statements and speak directly to the point. Don’t make the guest figure out what you
are trying to say.
3.   Use “I” statements. “You” statements can make the guest feel judged, threatened and defensive.
4.   Do not judge or threaten your guests. Treat everyone with respect and courtesy, no matter what
the situation.
5.   Give the guest a reason for your actions. Otherwise, a guest may feel that you are singling him or
her out and acting arbitrarily.
 6.   Provide good customer service and use indirect strategies when appropriate. Sometimes enlisting
the help of a guest’s friend or suggesting a non-alcoholic alternative is all that’s needed to resolve
a potentially confrontational situation.

Legal Responsibilities as a Bartender

Many bartenders and servers don’t realize that they can be held personally liable in the event of an
alcohol related tragedy. You have a responsibility to ensure that the following people are not served
alcohol in your establishment:

•   Anyone under the legal age for purchasing or consuming alcohol.

•   Anyone who is showing signs of visible intoxication (the Behavioral Cues).
•   Anyone whom you have reason to believe is purchasing alcohol for another guest who is
underage. Knowingly providing alcohol to any of these types of guests is illegal and can mean
penalties for you, your manager and your establishment. You can be arrested, fined, sued and
even spend time in jail if convicted. You can protect yourself from legal liability by using
Reasonable Efforts.

Reasonable Efforts
Reasonable efforts are steps you take to prevent guests from becoming intoxicated in the first place, to
withhold alcohol from underage guests or those buying for underage guests, and to intervene if a guest
does become visibly intoxicated. One of the most important Reasonable Efforts you can make is to obtain
certification in a responsible alcohol service training program, such as the TIPS program. TIPS can teach
you the skills and strategies you need to protect yourself, your guests and your establishment from
alcohol-related tragedies and liability.

Additional Reasonable Efforts you can use include:

•   Offering food.
•   Providing alternate transportation.
•   Cutting-off a guest.
•   Calling the police.
•   Measuring drinks.
•   Checking IDs.
•   Serving water or soda on the house.
•   Enlisting the help of the guest’s friends.

Another important tool to use to protect yourself and your establishment is Documentation. Good
documentation can demonstrate an ongoing commitment to responsible alcohol service, as well
as provide important information in the event that an alcohol-related situation does occur.

The TIPS Program - Responsible Alcohol Service Training

This section has provided a good overview about many important tools and concepts for ensuring
that you only serve alcohol legally and responsibly. But there is a lot more information you need to
successfully implement these strategies and protect yourself. Certification in TIPS provides you with the
following benefits:

•   A certification card from the largest and most widely recognized national responsible alcohol-
service-training program.
•   Reduced exposure for liquor liability lawsuits and penalties due to alcohol violations.
 •   Training by a certified instructor in how to successfully implement the tools, skills and
knowledge introduced here to protect yourself and your customers from alcohol-related tragedies.

You can obtain TIPS certification by attending an instructor-led session, becoming certified as a
TIPS trainer (enabling you to train other people) or completing the online eTIPS course. For more
information on any of these options, visit TIPS online at www.gettips.com or call 800-438-8477.

As mentioned previously, all BarSmarts graduates are eligible for a discount. Information will be
provided upon completion of the BarSmarts course.