To get to the town of Cognac, France, you have to fly into the airport at Bordeaux, nearly two hours south. You spend a good hour on the freeway, which looks pretty much like any freeway in the world, until eventually you see an exit marked “Cognac”. You then make your way from the main artery, away from the large billboards, away from the big trucks, and slowly the usual trappings of a big, busy road are replaced with things like vineyards and the small houses that dot hills that were previously unnoticeable.

The road winds through little collections of buildings almost too small to be called villages, taking a hard left here and a ninety-degree right there, following the signs to Cognac. Soon you crest a hill, large-ish for the area, and sprawled out in the tiny valley below is the town itself. At night, from above, the lights help register this as a populated area, but during the day the stone buildings blend in almost imperceptibly with the color palate of the surrounding landscape.

My journey to Cognac began, oddly enough, with a visit to a gin distillery. Just a few minutes southwest of central Cognac is the G’Vine gin distillery in Merpins. And this was a perfect beginning to my journey into the flavor of Cognac, because G’Vine gin and Cognac brandy are made from the same grape.

Ugni Blanc is one of the more prolific white grapes in Europe, often blended with others in its family to make, well, usually pretty unremarkable wines. In Italy, the grape is known as Trebbiano and accounts for a large part of the blended white wine produced there, and a lot of it is fine stuff. But in France, the grape doesn’t take quite as well and is primarily used either for blending, or for the production of Cognac.

G’Vine uses Ugni Blanc as a spirit base (much like Ciroc vodka, which is made at the same distillery), but then they also take the plant’s flowers and soak them in the neutral spirit before adding the other usual gin botanicals to the mix. The effect of this floral soak in the finished product is a richer mouthfeel, a young floral fruit component, and a slightly peppery edge to the gin. But the spirit, when tasted after the flowers are added and before the gin botanicals are soaked, well that’s just a pure expression of the flavor of the grape. And I have to admit, it’s absolutely finish-your-sample-glass divine.

Armed with the raw flavors of the Ugni Blanc grape still dancing on my tongue, I made my way to the Pierre Ferrand estate in Segonzac, southeast of the town of Cognac, to further my education of Cognac and the pervasive Ugni Blanc grape. It was there in the main distilling room, buried under the weight of little sleep and the humidity and dull hum imparted by nearly a dozen Charentais stills, that I first tasted the brouillis, the first run-off of the still at around 30% ABV (alcohol by volume) that will – after a secondary distillation – become Cognac.

The brouillis is cloudy, rich, and full of that huge, fruity, floral Ugni Blanc flavor I’d discovered at G’Vine only hours prior. This is the white dog of Cognac, and I think it’s the best way to discover what a Cognac is destined to become. Ferrand runs their first distillation on the lees, which means that rather than filter the yeast out of the wine used to distill the brandy, they leave it in, which results in an added layer of richness, freshness, complexity and depth to the final product.

The second distillation at approximately 70% ABV is what ultimately lands into the barrels, either Limousin or Tronçais oak barrels, or both. The wider grain of the Limousin oak lends a softness and an oak expression that doesn’t come as easily from the tighter-grained Tronçais. But regardless of the oak used, one could say that aging is what puts the finesse into Cognac – or any other aged spirit.

The process is simple, and somewhat strange. Put simply: take a bunch of new spirit, straight from the second run of the still (where the “heart” of the distillate is captured) and let it sit until it’s done; two years for VS, four for VSOP, and six for XO or Napoleon. The strangeness is the little ecosystem that thrives in the aging cellars; you see, there is a loss due to evaporation that Cognac endures at the rate of about 3% per year, known lyrically as “the angel’s share”. This evaporation inside the cave feeds a black mold found only in Cognaçais cellars; it very literally exists because of the Cognac fumes. Tucked up into that mold are centuries worth of spiders’ nests, which are left to further scary-up the cellars because the spiders will in turn eat their favorite meal: a type of worm that feeds on oak barrels. Left unchecked, the worms would devour the barrels and expose the Cognac. However, thanks to the microsystem inside the cellar, the worms are harvested by the spiders and the Cognac is safe, resting comfortably for up to (but generally no longer than) 55-70 years in its gently-toasted French oak chamber.

Overseeing much of this process is the BNIC, the Bureau National Interprofessionnel du Cognac – my hosts for the week. Born out the Ministry of Agriculture in 1946, the BNIC is the governing body that handles all things Cognac – from protecting the A.O.C., to regulating the labeling (VS, VSOP, XO, etc.) practices, to working with the growers, winemakers, distillers, blenders and bottlers from the first step of the process through the last.

The BNIC also orchestrates the event that the sixty of us bartenders and journalists traveled from all over the Western world to participate in, the International Cognac Summit. For four long days, we studied, tasted, toured and created cocktails using Cognac. I was truly privileged to be included in this lineup of some of the greatest minds in the industry, and am even happier to have a new-found appreciation for a spirit that, quite frankly, I always found to be enshrouded in mystery.

So as I boarded that bus for the last time and slowly made my way back to Bordeaux on the last day of the Summit, I peered out the window and watched the sun slowly make its way down below the vine-covered hills, my eyes scanning everything they could before we rediscovered the soulless highway that signaled the end of a rewarding and eye-opening trip.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Cognac

I’m leaving in about an hour to head to the airport and ship off to Europe, so if you have any interest in learning more about what a small-town bartender does from hour to hour as he stumbles across a continent in search of the perfect cocktail, then please by all means follow along with my Twitter feed.

I’ll be trying to make it to London in time to meet up with legendary bloggers Chuck Taggart of The Gumbo Pages and Jay Hepburn of Oh Gosh! for cocktails, and then mixing up tasty drinks with Boca Loca cachaça at RumFest UK all weekend.

From there I’ll head to Finland to talk about Boca Loca and demonstrate its tasty versatility in Helsinki for two days, and hopefully search out legendary Finnish bartender Timo Siitonen for a cocktail or two.

And finally, we’ll wrap things up in Paris by visiting even more bars, haggling for Tintin memorabilia, and sobering up before the long flight home.

Now, all of this is predicated on my finding a reasonable deal on a European SIM card for my phone, but assuming all goes well I will be posting regular updates to the account.

Oh, and if you’re in Portland this weekend, be sure to check out the Great American Distillers Festival, featuring a mixology competition sponsored in part by the Oregon Bartenders Guild. I’ll be missing my chance to cast judgement on the entries alongside Robert Hess, but I’ll be there in spirit as I sip cane spirits with some of the finest bartenders in Europe. See you all when I get back!

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Follow Along with My European Misadventures

It’s six o’clock at night in New Orleans and I’m sweating, hard. Not because of the heat outside, but because I’m inside, on a stage with a microphone in my hand. Eight of the best bartenders in the country are lined up behind me, hundreds of people are seated in front of me, and everyone in the room is staring at me. And at this moment all I can think about is my near-debilitating case of stagefright and how much I hate speaking in public. So I pause for a second and think to myself:

How in the hell did I end up here?

To answer that, we have to go back a year, to the previous gathering of bartenders, cocktail aficionados, bon vivants and drunkards known as Tales of the Cocktail. One similarly steamy night in July of 2008, after a long night of trash-talking with friends Daniel Shoemaker and Erik Adkins, we decided it would be a fine idea to have an impromptu three-man cocktail contest using only the ingredients found in my swag bag. So we grabbed a few friends, headed up to the pool, spread out a mind-numbing array of airplane bottles, syrups, sauces, candies and even (seriously) candles and proceeded to see who could make the best cocktail using only those ingredients (read more and even watch a video of the contest here.)

Anyway. It was fun, and dumb, and none of us thought much of it ten minutes after we declared Daniel the winner. But word spread, and our little throwdown became a sort of celebrated thing underground. Even David Wondrich grabbed my by the arm on the last night and said, “Hey, Morgenthaler, if you do that swag bag thing again next year, I want in.”

So, fast-forward four or so months – when I’m really not thinking about that night – to a cocktail party… in New Jersey of all places. It was there that I bumped into Ann Tuennerman, founder of Tales of the Cocktail. Ann pulled me aside and propositioned me about making the Swag Bag Competition a real sanctioned event at Tales this year. “Sounds good”, I said, and we put together a conference call to hammer out the details.

It was during this conference call that I was introduced to the folks at Grand Marnier/Navan and we all chatted about the event. Now, I’m generally pretty clueless, but I must have sounded like a real rube when I exclaimed, “Wait, let me get this straight – you want that thing I did on the roof last year to be the official Grand Marnier cocktail contest?!”

“Yes, you idiot”, must have been what everyone in on the conference call was thinking, but thankfully nobody spoke out loud. But what they did tell me was that they wanted me to design and host the whole thing: I was now in charge of picking the contestants, judges, setting the rules, choosing the items for the swag bags, and get up in front of the crowd and emcee the event – everything.

Well, shit. Fortunately I remembered that David Wondrich had wanted in, so I emailed him and asked him if he’d like to be a judge. But Dave wrote back and said, “I was actually hoping to compete.” Well, double-shit, now I’ve got James Beard award-winning author David Wondrich competing, and this is becoming, like, a real thing.

But if there’s one thing I’ve got going for me, it’s the fact that I’ve got a lot of good friends in this business. So I called up seven of them from cities around the country and asked them if they’d like to compete in my humble little Grand Marnier sponsored event. And you know what I love about my friends? Every one of them said, “Yes”.

And so there I was, on stage in front of Ricky Gomez, Paul Clarke, Misty Kalkofen, Neyah White, Todd Thrasher, David Wondrich, Giuseppe Gonzalez and Eric Alperin (who even went one step further for me and shaved a mohawk just for the competition).

On my cue, the eight of them opened their swag boxes and began working on a cocktail with the following disparate list of ingredients: Glenmorangie Scotch, Chopin Vodka, Don Julio Blanco Tequila, Hennessy VSOP Cognac, Tanqueray, Grand Marnier, Navan, Tabasco, Tea Forte Cocktail Infusions, Amarula Cream, Yellow Chartreuse, Alexia Chips, Freshies Bloody Mary Mix, Dirty Sue Olive Juice, Antigua & Barbuda Hot Sauce, Jalapeno, Chocolate, & Tropical Tanteo Tequilas, Kona Coffee Liqueur, Purista Natural Mojito Mix, Dum-Dum Lollipops and M&Ms

It was – in a word – insane. Wondrich immediately began building a little makeshift still out of a cocktail shaker and some aluminum foil and distilled Navan liqueur. I thought Misty was pouring a shot for me and herself, but she was actually about to infuse the tequila with Tea Forte tea infusions (we did the shot anyway). Thrasher was working on a reduction of Navan liqueur, and the whole thing went up in flames.

Alperin’s cheering section brought a boom box and was blasting music from inside the audience. The ladies of LUPEC Boston were standing on their seats and screaming for Misty. Our judges didn’t know what to think, I’m guessing it was the most unconventional cocktail competition they’d ever been involved in.

At one point I was asked to clear the stage of the people that had gotten up out of their chairs and were yelling at the contestants, but to no avail – the crowd had officially decided to bum-rush the show.

The whole thing lasted only an hour and a half, but it felt like it was over as soon as it began. The contestants presented their cocktails to the judges one-by-one and after much deliberation, they declared Giuseppe’s mixture of tea-infused Glenmorangie, Navan and Piña Colada mix to be the winner.

Special thanks to Brian Huff and David Shenaut for the use of the photos. Hopefully we’ll be returning next year with more.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

The On-The-Fly Competition

(Gosh, they look happy.)

Anyway – it’s July, which means that it’s that time of year, to take a week-long reprieve from the steamy swelter of Oregon and head once again to the cool lazy breezes of New Orleans. Tales of the Cocktail is a week of cocktail seminars, workshops, classes, competitions, food, fun, friends, and – for some – nearly lethal amounts of alcohol that flows freely through the streets like so much urine in the morning sun.

I’ll be there, working, playing, talking, laughing, and – if Keith Waldbauer has anything to say about it – drinking while I provide blow-by-blow updates via my Twitter account.

So join me, and I hope to see you next week at Tales.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Tales of the Cocktail is Almost Here

You guys don’t realize how good you’ve got it. See, when I was a young blogger, we didn’t have all these new, fancy blogs that you guys have got nowadays. There was none of this Kaiser Penguin business, and certainly not the Scofflaw’s Den. Hell, Boudreau was probably still in Canada back then, for all I know.

All we had back in those days was The Art of Drink, some of Paul’s early material, and a now-defunct little blog called DC Drinks. Put on by a couple of wiseacres from our nation’s capital, the guys from DC Drinks were not only some of my biggest influences as a blogger, but they were also instrumental in helping me start spreading the word about Repeal Day online.

So when Derek Brown called me and asked if I’d like to come out to Washington and celebrate Repeal Day with the Washington, D.C. Craft Bartenders Guild, I didn’t have to think twice, I jumped on that plane and ran back East for yet another adventure.

Our weekend began with a quick cocktail at Bourbon, and then a beautiful ten course dinner at Vidalia, with a special food and cocktail pairing menu prepared especially for us by chef R.J. Cooper. We recoiled with delight as wave after wave of plates arrived at the table, accompanied by solidified twists on cocktails and traditional drinks paired brilliantly by sommelier Ed Jenks We sat and chatted with Tony Abou-Ganim, Guild President Owen Thompson, Melanie da Trinidade-Asher of Macchu Pisco, Eric Seed, Emma Davis of Martin Miller’s Gin, and Bill Thomas, owner of Bourbon.

Nightcaps were brilliantly prepared by Chantal Tseng at the Tabard Inn, however by this point I was feeling the effects of a full day’s travel and a full belly’s meal, so I bade farewell to my friends and found my way to bed.

After some light sightseeing the next day I was ready to get my hands dirty. I’d previously agreed to tend bar with my friend Jacob Grier at the Cato Institute’s policy forum, so afterwards Jacob and I put out a few hundred Martinezes, Manhattans and Sazeracs for the thirsty crowd. But, as in any social situation, the place I feel the most comfortable is behind the bar, so while I had trouble tearing myself away from the event I knew it was time to get ready for the party.

The Great Hall at the City Tavern Club is painted in history, having played host to practically every major American political figure in history, from George Washington and John Adams right up to Ronald Reagan. Which is great, because when you’re in Washington you want to feel that connection to the nation’s history – especially when celebrating such a historic day as we were.

One thing you’ve got to love about Washington D.C. is the glamour you’ll find at a major event like this – it’s certainly not like anything you’ll ever find on the West Coast. Really, people went all out with period dress, flapper costumes, tuxedoes, and more hip flasks than LeNell could shake a bottle of Pre-Prohibition rye and tiny funnel at.

But that’s neither here nor there. The point is that I can’t really do this event justice through words and photos. The Guild did the most incredible job of transporting everyone in the building to the Eve of Repeal, from the live swing band and our mustachioed toastmaster to the myriad bars scattered around the Hall serving pre- or Prohibition era cocktails to the thirsty masses.

But soon the hour was fading yet again, and while I could (or should) have found my way back to the hotel, I instead opted to join our hosts at the private after-party at DC’s newest speakeasy, Gibson.

I’m not usually a huge fan of private clubs and speakeasies. I’ve been to bars that were exclusive to the point of being inhospitable. I’ve experienced – on two separate establishments – being stalled at the door by a host, only to find an empty room upon entry. I think that while the speakeasy concept can work, the point is often missed by the employees of the establishment and the whole thing becomes poorly translated into a worthwhile bar experience.

But not so at The Gibson. Upon gaining entry through the unmarked front door you are taken through a dark hallway to one of the warmest, friendliest, most inviting spaces I’ve ever been in – and I’ve been in a few bars. The staff is incredibly hospitable, there seem to be no unrealistic expectations of inebriated human behavior in place, and the drinks are downright incredible. It’s everything you want from a speakeasy, and you can still whisper the F-word across the table to your friends without fear of castigation.

We broke no-standing-room-only policy as a hundred-plus of us filled the room; bartenders, rabble-rousers, bloggers, Repeal Day advocates, liquor tradespeople and cocktail aficionados all rubbed elbows around the never-ending punch bowl in the back room of The Gibson.

But oh-my-head, and soon I found myself sitting at the bar with Derek in a thinned-out version of the earlier scene, being served some magnificent cocktails by our infatigable and persistent bartenders John and Tiffany until the wee hours of the morning.

There’s more to this trip – much more – including a trip to Alexandria to visit with the brilliant Mr. Todd Thrasher at two of his three bars, but that will have to wait for another post as I’ve already taken three days to write this. So talk amongst yourselves, what did you do for Repeal Day? Were you at the party in DC? Have you ever been to The Gibson? What are your experiences with speakeasies around the world? Leave a note in the comments section below.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Repeal Day in Washington, D.C.

I landed in New Jersey a day after the competitors arrived in New York, so upon arrival I was immediately whooshed away to the beautiful home of Josh Emmett and Helen Cranage, who very conveniently happen to have a Prohibition-era speakeasy bar in their basement. A quick shower later and I was helping Jason Scott of Edinburgh’s Bramble Bar and Lounge stock the bar with loads and loads of our favorite, Martin Miller’s Gin.

Soon the vans pulled up and out poured most of the competitors – and even some of the judges. The bar was rocking like it was 1929 as Sam Kershaw held down the stick and kept everyone in Clover Clubs, Hayes Fizzes, Aviations, Martinis, Last Words and Gin-and-Tonics.

The party went on for hours, with the US and the UK teams mingling and getting to know one another while Jamie Boudreau of Tini Bigs in Seattle embarked on his campaign of verbal terror, clearly hoping to gain an edge on the competition a day early.

But as all good things must eventually come to an end, the party was soon over and we were on our way to visit our good friend Jim Meehan at Please Don’t Tell for some truly incredible cocktails and a nonstop parade of gourmet (or would it be gourmand if you eat three of them?) hot dogs.

But the competition was looming on everyone’s mind, so we thanked Jim for his gracious hospitality and inspiring cocktails and made our way back to the hotel for a brief nap.

The following morning found us in the dark, windowless, yet timeless and elegant Death and Company for the first-ever Martin Miller’s Gin Master’s Competition. After a brief introduction of the contest and judges, we were on our way and being treated to a show by Giles Looker of Soulshakers. Giles grew up in Oxford, an area with a rich tradition of rowing, so Giles presented the judges with his version of a Pimm’s Cup with sweet vermouth, gin, Campari, Cointreau, grapefruit, fresh citrus and 7-Up. But what really set his presentation apart was the miniature rowing race/drinking game that he presented alongside his cocktail.

Jake Burger of Jake’s Bar and Grill and The Portobello Star and Jason Scott of Bramble came on strong with loads of witty chat and a one-two punch of classic-inspired cocktails: Jake’s Rule (or was it Rhub?) Britannia, and combination of Miller’s Westbourne Strength Gin, Campari, vintage orange bitters and a rhubarb syrup; and Jason’s Sangaree-esque Sangria, made with gin, lime, grapefruit-chamomile bitters, and a tonic of neutral grain spirits and port wine, all over crushed ice.

Ben Reed of IPBartenders took a different tack and went on the offensive – literally. After plastering the bar with images of his mug (and mugs with his mug) he made several thinly-veiled references to his genitalia, poured something resembling bull semen from an unmarked bottle, and called the whole mess of cinnamon-infused gin, distilled pineapple, cream, and possible animal husbandry by-product “Reedo’s Gin Jizz”. Nobody dared admit its deliciousness.

The crowd could barely understand Sean Muldoon’s thick Irish accent, particularly considering the ringing still left in their ears after Ben’s behind-the-bar banter with LeNell Smothers. But the head bartender of the Merchant Hotel in Belfast whipped up one of the simpler and most delicious cocktails of the afternoon, a French 71 (as in 1971, the year I was born. Thanks, Sean!), with Miller’s gin, oloroso sherry, lemon, simple syrup and champagne. Brilliantly executed and simple.

Since the United Kingdom team used up over three hours of a four-hour event, it was on the Americans to hustle through their presentations before the bar needed to open for business. So my good friend, the very talented Daniel Shoemaker from the Teardrop Lounge in Portland, Oregon got up and breezed through his drink, the African Swallow, a combination of gin, homemade blood orange shrub, a vintage pre-recipe-change Lillet Blanc, and a dash of Chartreuse Elixir Vegetale – a combination that inspired Gary Regan to whisper the word “amazing”.

Jamie Boudreau went all retro on the crowd’s collective ass, bringing back 2007’s “Molecular Mixology” craze for his drink “Angela’s Stars”, named after the still that Martin Miller’s Gin is made in. Jamie took the complex blend of gin, pineau de charentes and creme de violette and put the whole mixture into a carbonator and pumped the drink full of sparkling bubbles. I wasn’t able to get a picture of the contraption, but the scene looked something like this:

Vincenzo Marianella of Gordon Ramsay’s restaurant London in Los Angeles charmed and delighted the crowd with his Italian accent and confident bartending, while his drink, “Bella Rosemary” delighted with a simple blend of gin, apricot brandy, muddled rosemary, lemon and orgeat over crushed ice.

One of my favorite New York bartenders, Giuseppe Gonzalez from Clover Club in Brooklyn (formerly of the Flatiron Lounge) broke down and reconstructed the classic sling, with his drink the Sling-Sling (or Sling Squared). Here’s how you make it: start with some gin and a dash each of aromatic and orange bitters, then throw the kitchen sink at it and add grenadine, orgeat, Cynar, Campari, maraschino liqueur, yellow Chartreuse, Lillet Blanc, Carpano Antica Formula vermouth, and soda. Ice is optional if you have room left in the glass. But despite the crazy recipe, there was a definite method to Giuseppe’s madness, and I think it came out well in the drink.

Erik Adkins of The Slanted Door in San Francisco has this magical way with citrus in cocktails that I’ve never completely understood, and I think he knows it. He built a simple Silver Fizz, with gin, organic simple syrup, fresh homegrown Bears lime juice, egg white, and tonic water garnished with a Seville orange twist. And as with every other cocktail I’ve received from Erik, it was brilliant.

In stark contrast to the many simple cocktails from the American team was Milk and Honey bartender Sam Ross’ presentation of a classic Christmas-style punch. Made with gin, muddled lemon peel, a pine and stonefruit liqueur, rich Demerara syrup, lemon juice, Regan’s Orange Bitters, champagne and absinthe, Sam’s drink was served in a crystal punchbowl with a little Christmas tree frozen into the ice base. Sam deserved extra credit for making enough to drink for the whole room, and for a brilliant presentation.

But they saved the biggest and the best for last. Legendary San Francisco bartender Thad Vogler – all seven feet of him – came in and showed the rest of the contestants how to really do it: with grace, humility, and simplicity. His combination of gin, spätlese reisling, a dash each of housemade cherry and peach bitters was easily one of the best drinks I’d tried all day.

But in the end, it was the winning combination of bartending showmanship, attention to detail, presentation and adherence to classic cocktail construction that made Mr. Sam Ross the winner of the Martin Miller’s Gin Master’s Competition.

I never got a chance to talk with Sam this weekend, but I’ve been a big fan of his drinks for quite a while. So much so, that I’ve been making some of his concoctions at the bar. And one of them has gone over so well that I received this email just today:

I simply MUST have the recipe for that drink you made me… Penicillin? I’m positively spelling it wrong, but that doesn’t discount my love for it. I can’t stop thinking about it. I may leave my husband for it. I may marry it or just have a torrid affair…me and my scotch topped wonderlove… I’m jealous of the ice that gets to swim in it’s magic… is that enough begging? Please post it soon.

Well, I’m not going to post Sam’s recipe for the Penicillin here, but maybe if he’s reading, he’ll do us the honors. Congratulations to Sam and everyone who competed, it was a pleasure to watch you all in action.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Martin Miller’s Gin Master’s Competition, New York City

After attending and presenting at the Bar Convent Berlin in September, I felt like taking a few days off and not blogging. I know it sounds like whining, but I needed a break even if it meant that I didn’t get to write up the tail-end of my trip to Germany. So I’m going to assume this is a better-late-than-never situation and give you a full report of one of the finest bars in the world. Here goes:

I left Berlin on Wednesday morning following a long night of revelry after the awards show. There’s nothing you need after a long week at a bar conference more than sparkling water, sushi, and a big TV in front of a comfy sofa, so I made a quick visit up to the port town of Kiel on the Baltic Sea to visit an old friend from college. Kiel is a really beautiful little town, I can highly recommend taking a walking tour through the city in the blustery rain – just wear the right shoes. Might I recommend you do not wear an old pair of Chuck Taylors with a hole on the side like I did? Just a suggestion.

Anyway, I then made my way back down through the gorgeous German countryside to Hamburg, which is easily one of the most incredible cities I’ve ever had the pleasure of visiting. The lake, the city center, even the train station. It was there in beautiful Hamburg that I settled in for a long night at Jörg Meyer’s bar, Le Lion.

I first heard about Le Lion in July at Tales of the Cocktail in New Orleans, where they were presented with the award for Best New Cocktail Bar. Knowing at the time that I’d be in nearby Berlin in September, I made quiet plans to visit.

When I arrived at Le Lion, I was greeted at the door by Herr Meyer and his brilliant bartender, Mario Kappes. I was seated at the bar next to some friends, given a hardshell-bound cocktail menu, and asked what I’d like to have first.

And this is where I have to back the story up: Berlin, Monday night.

A big group of us went to dinner at Schnitzelei, a modern schnitzel and German tapas house, and I had the great pleasure of being seated next to Gonçalo de Sousa Monteiro. Gonçalo is something of a legend in the German bar scene; his drinks are on menus all over Berlin, he participates as one of the Traveling Mixologists, and most recently helped set up the drink menu at Le Lion.

We talked extensively about bartending, our philosophies regarding mixology, and of course, cocktails. I sat and listened to him wax poetic about a journey of discovery with the old classic, the Blood and Sand. Like myself, Gonçalo had never really cared for the Blood and Sand until reading about it in Ted Haigh’s book Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails. Accepting Dr. Cocktail’s authority on all things cocktailian, Gonçalo went on a quest for the best ingredients and most balanced proportions to perfect this drink. And by the end of his story I was drooling from one corner of my mouth – I had to try his Blood and Sand once I got to Le Lion.

I confidently placed my order for Gonçalo’s Blood and Sand, and it arrived expertly-prepared by Mario with Laphroaig 10-Year single-malt Islay scotch, Guignolet de Dijon black cherry liqueur, Carpano Antica Formula vermouth, and fresh orange juice. The construction and balance of the drink was unlike anything else I’d ever experienced from a Blood and Sand and I quickly realized I was in for a long, luxurious evening of cocktail mastery. Yeah, uh-oh.

The drinks started coming hard and fast, and we began passing Mario’s masterpieces up and down the length of the bar. There was a Straits Sling with gin, Benedictine, eau de cerises, lemon, Bitter Truth bitters and soda. The Contessa was nearly identical to a Late-Summer Negroni Variation we’ve been doing at Bel Ami, with gin, Aperol and Carpano Rosso vermouth. I braced myself for more, feeling smug that I’d opted for the steak at dinner.

Once we began to settle in, the ante was upped yet again. First was Robert Hess’ Trident cocktail, made with Drei Ling, a rye/wheat/spelt aquavit, Cynar, sherry and Fee Brothers’ Peach Bitters. Then came the Green Fly: gin, lemon and green Chartreuse finished with a few drops of orange blossom water.

Mario then gave us a short respite with a perfectly-executed Martin Miller’s Westbourne Strength gimlet made with fresh juice that was simply about balance and showcasing the gin, and the now-famous Gin Red Basil Smash that has been appearing on cocktail menus all over Germany this summer.

At this point, Jörg came around to check on us, and offered us a tour of another bar they keep relatively quiet about, an elegantly-appointed little concept bar that was the birthplace of both Le Lion and the Traveling Mixologists. We followed him there and soon fell into a deep trance as he regaled us with the history of this exclusive little four-seater bar and applauded when he produced a round of Richmond Gimlets for the group.

Back at Le Lion, the hour was getting late, but there was no way I was going to leave without trying one of Mario’s creations – and a new favorite for myself – the Professor Langnickel. Made with kirsch, Pedro Ximenez, Guignolet Cerise, a lemon twist and Maraska cherry garnish, it was rich, sophisticated, balanced, and reminiscent of a classic cocktail, like a Manhattan without the wood and spice.

With my head swimming from the dizzying array of world-class cocktails at Le Lion, it was soon time for me to step out into the chilly Hamburg night and bid farewell to my hosts. If you’re ever in the neighborhood, do yourself a favor and stop in for a drink at Le Lion – the finest bar I’ve ever had the pleasure of visiting and a new inspiration for me. And thank you, Jörg, Mario and Gonçalo. I hope to see all of you again very soon.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Le Lion, Hamburg

I’ve put together a transcript of my presentation at the BCB as well as all of the slides I used, especially for those of you whose first language is not English. I had a great time presenting and sincerely hope I can do it again next year!

My name is Jeffrey Morgenthaler, and I’m a bartender and cocktail blogger from Eugene, Oregon. Oregon is, for those of you who don’t know, on the west coast of the United States, north of California – where I grew up.

Eugene is a small town of about 100,000 people. The closest metropolitan area is Portland, about 100 miles to the north. Here it is.

Eugene is a college town, and so most of the bars are college bars. A lot of beer gets poured, and lot of Jägermeister gets taken down in shots. The sorts of things we’re seeing here at the BCB, craft bartending, classic cocktails, culinary-style drinks, etc. don’t matter to most of the bar community in my town, they’re all relatively unknown outside of a small handful of bars. So what you’re probably wondering is, how did this guy, from this bar, in a small town we’ve never heard of, how did he end up coming all of the way to Berlin to speak at the BCB? Well, for many years now, I have been using the web to connect to the global bar community.

As I’ve learned while preparing this presentation, this can be a really big topic. Robert Hess said it best:

So how does one begin connecting to the global bar community through the web? Well, I’m going to show you a brief history of the path I’ve taken, and hopefully give you some insight into how you can both connect and contribute to what’s happening out there now.

In the late 1990s, a San Francisco bartender named Paul Harrington started writing a cocktail column for Hotwired, which was an online magazine at the time. In the column, Paul examined the history of classic cocktails and provided recipes and notes for a drink every week. He also published some of his original creations.

While the site only lasted a couple of years before being abandoned and eventually taken down, it was a tremendous influence on me and a lot of other aspiring mixologists at the time. It had the most thorough information on the web about cocktails, ingredients, liquors, and drink history. It was also updated every week, which made it an early version of a cocktail blog.

I started blogging about cocktails in 2004. My site originally began as a way to share my bar’s cocktail recipes with our customers, and not really much more. As the site began to grow, I started looking around for other cocktail blogs.

The first site I discovered was The Art of Drink. At the time it was – and still is – the most widely-read cocktail blog in the world. Darcy O’Neil is a chemical engineer and a bartender living in Canada. He’s written for The Journal of the American Cocktail, presented at Tales of the Cocktail in New Orleans and is generally a master of his craft. His site should always be your first stop when doing any cocktail research on the web. The amount of information here is not just impressive, it’s breathtaking. Really. From instructions on how to make your own vermouth and bitters, to the complete Jerry Thomas Bartender’s Guide, it’s all here.

Another site I became an instant regular reader of was the Cocktail Chronicles by Paul Clarke. While Paul doesn’t write about bartending per se, this is still one of the most informative cocktail-related websites out there, especially as related to classic cocktails.

In April of 2006, Paul proposed the idea of a monthly online gathering for cocktail writers and enthusiasts. Each event would have a theme, and a different blogger would host the party at their site each month. He called it Mixology Monday, and that first round drew a whopping crowd of eight bloggers. Two and a half years later, over 40 websites from all over the world participate in Mixology Monday each month. If you maintain any sort of cocktail-related presence on the web, whether it be on a forum, with a blog, or through any other means, participating in Mixology Monday is the single best way to connect to the online cocktail community. You can go to mixologymonday.com to learn more about how to participate.

Back when I started writing about cocktails, blogging was a relatively new phenomenon. But today there are nearly 113 million blogs on the internet. And thanks to the work of my friend Gabriel at cocktailnerd.com, we’ve estimated that somewhere over 130 of them are cocktail-related blogs.

Now at .000000115% of the total blog population, that’s not a huge number, ha ha. But considering what a specialized group of enthusiasts we are, 130+ is a pretty good start.

Paul Harrington’s column on Hotwired was indicative of the web at that time: it was relatively static, and although it contained, as I said before, the most thorough information about cocktails on the internet – something was missing: audience participation.

The real power of blogging versus standard web publishing is that it helps foster a conversation. Some posts on my website have turned into conversations that have spanned several years, with hundreds of comments from visitors all over the world.

It’s been my dedicated reading and commenting on both my site and other blogs around the world that has been the most effective way I’ve managed to connect with people in the global bar community. Not only can I attract new readers by participating on other sites, I can keep the conversation alive on my own site by simply popping in from time to time to add my thoughts.

But another important quality that the blogs have the ability to do is to educate us about the most recent trends in mixology. And one very powerful side effect to this is that they can sometimes have a profound impact on taste. Here’s a perfect example.

I think most of you might know this guy. For those who don’t, this is Joerg Meyer, of Le Lion in Hamburg. Earlier this summer, Joerg had been playing around with a Gin Smash that substituted basil for mint. In July bought some red basil at the wholesale market and upon returning to work, came up with this drink:

That night, after work, he posted photos of the drink and the recipe to his blog.

Within days, bartenders from all over Germany were trying the drink for themselves and posting their findings on the internet.

Soon after, Helmut Adam declared that the search for the official drink of Summer 2008 was over, and that it was the Gin Red Basil Smash. Now bars all over Europe are putting the drink on their menu, and seeing great success with it.

We’ve looked at the evolution of the internet over the past ten years.

It started with web authoring being an answer to traditional publishing media. Suddenly people from all over the world had access to information instantly, for free, and at any time they chose.

Then we saw the development of the blogs. Now not only could the average person be an author, but through the commenting system readers could interact with the content.
Now, the next phase of the internet is the most exciting yet. Not only do we have access to the information, and not only can we interact with the information, but now we’ve reached a new phase where we can actually interact with the people responsible for content.

Backing up a bit, I want to talk about the web’s most popular blogging tool, Blogger.com. Blogger was developed by two young web developers who originally intended to build a piece of project management software. It morphed into the most popular web publishing tool, and was eventually purchased by Google in 2003.
Incidentally, it was these two people and this piece of software that were responsible for popularizing the term “blog”

Anyway, one of these developers went on to create a new piece of software, designed as a “micro-blogging” tool: a new way of publishing to a focused audience, initially via SMS, and eventually through the web. His name was Evan Williams, and this new piece of software is called Twitter.

I don’t know if Evan Williams is related to the Evan Williams we’re all familiar with, I’ve got an email out to him but I haven’t gotten a response yet.

Anyway, Twitter represents a way to communicate instantly to people who follow your Twitter feed. There are a few benefits to this. It takes no time at all to set up, even less time than a Blogger account. Twitter can be updated from anywhere, at any time, even from the most basic cell phone. You don’t have to be at a computer, you don’t even need a web-enabled mobile phone. You can begin to develop a relationship instantly with your readers, and receive feedback in real time.

Now, why is this so powerful? Because with very little energy, you can begin to connect to the global bar scene immediately. I use Twitter every day to communicate with many of the top cocktail bloggers, brand ambassadors, magazine editors and spirits writers in the industry. I also use Twitter to fill in the gaps between blog posts and stay connected to my readers. I also use a plugin to automatically update my Facebook page from Twitter.

And speaking of Facebook, this is another tool I use to fill in the gaps between blog posts and stay connected with my readers. Facebook is the fastest-growing social network site in the world, with an annual growth rate of 153%. Compare this to MySpace’s 3% annual growth rate and it becomes obvious that Facebook is the best way to connect to the social networking community. There are literally thousands of Facebook groups dedicated to the bar trade, and actively participating in these groups is a very simple way to connect to the global bar community.

But Facebook isn’t exclusive, and it’s easy to get lost among the millions of other users who visit Facebook every day for personal reasons or business unrelated to the bar trade. Fortunately, there is a new social networking platform on the horizon that hopes to attract some of those users who hope to exchange information in a more exclusive environment.

This is a brand new site that was just launched this year – sponsored by Angostura Bitters. It’s not the biggest social networking site, but it is gear specifically toward bartenders. Nearly 500 bartenders from all over the world use MySpeedRail, and they’re committed to improving the service every day. With MySpeedRail, you can do a lot of the same things you do with Facebook or MySpace – you can get involved in forums, send messages, read blog posts, etc.

I asked them why Angostura Bitters would want to sponsor a site like this. They don’t get involved with the content, they don’t advertise too heavily on the site and the site’s only purpose is to promote craft bartending worldwide. Their answer? “Quality bartenders know how to use bitters.” Fair enough.

Now, to close this segment on social networking, I did want to mention one last point: one of the downsides to social networking is that it’s easy to forget one important thing: and that’s this: While social networking may feel like you’re having a personal relationship with your friends, or even “friends”, you should still be mindful of the fact that these relationships are available to and accessible by anyone on the internet, so maintaining some sense of privacy should always be considered a priority. Whether it’s comments left in somewhere like a Facebook wall, or personal photos that are made available to the public, you should always remember to proceed with caution.

I want to step away from social networking for a minute and talk about learning resources. Since we were talking earlier about how the blogs are a great way to learn about new trends, I think I should point out a few of my other favorite online resources for learning about mixology, craft bartending, new products, and cutting-edge techniques

First up are the mailing lists. Now, there are many, many bar trade mailing lists you can subscribe to, but I strongly recommend you make joining Gary Regan’s Ardent Spirits mailing list a priority. It’s sent out almost every other week, and it contains information about new products, educational seminars, job opportunities, and so many other types of announcements. You can sign up for the newsletter at ardentspirits.com
Another great way to connect to the global bar community is through forums.

eGullet is not technically a bar trade forum, but an online group discussion targeted at those in the world of the culinary arts. Fortunately for all of us, they have a very active section of the website that encompasses mixology and all things bar-related. If you’re concerned with being involved on a daily basis, eGullet is a great way to connect and contribute to the online bar community through a group of enthusiasts who maintain an active influence on the current global trends. You can even catch my good friend Erik Ellestad, who is posting every single drink – in order – from the Savoy Cocktail Book on eGullet.

The English-speaking European world also has a forum that enjoys some very healthy group participation: barbore.com. While the mainstay of forum regulars here is UK bartenders, there is still a clear opportunity for more worldwide participation throughout the English-speaking world.

And last, but certainly not least, there is DrinkBoy.com. Created in the late 90s by our friend Robert Hess, the DrinkBoy forums now contain some of the most valuable cocktail information out there, with such luminaries as Gary Regan and David Wondrich making regular visits and providing insights into the trade. On DrinkBoy you’ll not only find recipe research and historical information, but also reviews of bars and bartenders around the world.

Another way to stay on top of what’s happening in the bar world is through multimedia. I’m a sucker for technique, I like to know more than just a recipe – I want to see how other bartenders are actually making their drinks. So I watch videos and try to learn all I can from them.

Speaking of Robert Hess, this is The Cocktail Spirit video podcast. These are some of the best videos on classic cocktail construction out there. I can make a Pegu Club Cocktail in my sleep, but I still re-watch Robert make one from time to time just to remind myself how it should be done and stay connected to current technical trends.

This is Brilliant Cocktails by Chris Doig, a bartender in Copenhagen. Chris’s girlfriend and her friends originally suggested filming Chris at work one night, and like a good boyfriend he obliged them and they put out the first season of podcasts. The feedback he received from viewers all over the world has been so positive that he has filmed a second season, and I’m happy to announce today that the first episode has been released and it is available for viewing at brilliantcocktails.com

But there can be a negative side to all of this information that’s available out there, and I want to caution you all to continually do thorough research, and question everything you read online. Because not all of the bartending information out there is good, and some of it is downright incorrect. And to illustrate this point I want to introduce you to one such bit of bartending information:

Thank you for coming.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

How to Use the Web to Connect to the Global Bar Community

I greeted the evening with a late-night invitation to the Beefeater party at Maxim, a huge club here in Berlin. I wasn’t able to make it to the party, unfortunately, but I’ll promise a reasonable explanation – along with a definition of the term “Irish Goodbye” as an answer to the obvious question.

Once I’d finished the final touches on my BCB presentation for tomorrow, I received a Twitter message from my friend Jörg Meyer, of Le Lion in Hamburg, for dinner with a few bartenders before the party.

Not one to pass up the opportunity to feast with a group of colleagues, I jumped into a cab and raced across Berlin to Schnitzelei, a gorgeous modern Weiner Schnitzel restaurant in Berlin. (For those of you from the States, Wiener Schnitzel is not sausage, but rather a gigantic plate of thinly-pounded, breaded veal. Think of a better chicken-fried steak without all the bullshit on top)

Anyway, I sat between legendary German bartender Goncalo de Sousa Monteiro, and legendary green-skinned UK cocktail blogger Jay Hepburn for the duration of the meal.

A word about German restaurants: this was actually the first full meal I was able to enjoy so far here in Berlin. I made a huge miscalculation by not continuing my year of German in college, and have so far had to suffer through tremendous understandings, like the amazing realization that brot doesn’t mean sausage, but rather dry bread. Not exactly quite the thing to put down with a rich German beer. At any rate, the first round of nouveau-traditional German tapas arrived, and the crowd of twenty tucked in with full force. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one suffering from the Monolingual Curtain here.

I chatted with Goncalo about arcane liqueurs and the flavor profiles of practically every European vermouth out there while we watched as plate after plate of schnitzel arrived at the table. The tradition here is to name the country that your schnitzel most resembles, and I was relieved to be handed a full meat-map of the Golden State of California (my birthplace) complete with accurate rendition of the San Francisco Bay. Ah, home.

As we all swilled tall mugs of pilsner at long wooden tables, I listened to Google Alerts fan Simon Difford regale our corner of the table with tales of the European drinks trade, much to everyone’s delight.

It’s especially easy to put down a California-sized plate of meat when your right side is numb from the silence of the hangover from a famous UK cocktail blogger, and soon I was looking up to wonder if I were the first to finish.

As we all leaned back in our chairs, bottle-after-bottle of a local schnapps began to arrive at the table, with big-little glassware set in front of every guest. There was another good hour-and-a-half of coffee, schnapps, conversation and back-slapping as we made our move toward the next destination.

And this is where the Irish Goodbye comes in, because as soon as I learned this term from my friend several years ago, I’ve become addicted to its social brilliance ever since.

The party was gravitating toward a huge club for a late night of drinking on Beefeater’s tab, but all I really wanted was a simple night cap and a cab ride back to the presenter’s hotel for a solid night’s sleep before my presentation tomorrow. So I helped steer the tide toward Lebensstern again, for a ginormous gin selection and a quicker hop back to the hotel.

Obviously I’d brought my camera this time, so I was finally able to capture bartender Thomas Pflanz on film as I sipped my gin and tonics. But as the crowd began to all sway in the same direction, I started looking toward the door.

But how to escape? The door was blocked by a thick ring of bartenders, all of whom I would have liked to speak with one more time. My eyes scanned the room as I realized that the bathrooms were conveniently located near the exit. I gladhanded several associates as I explained that I was in a hurry to find the toilet, crossing my legs as I spoke a pidgeon hybrid of English and German. I even feigned ignorance as to its’ locale to strengthen my alibi. I’m a silly tourist, I don’t know where I’m going!

“It’s right over there by the stairs, Herr Morgenthaler“, they offered as I thanked the suckers for their generous directions. And as I washed my hands in the restroom to afford myself a wider escape-window, I laughed to myself in the mirror.

The trick to the Irish Goodbye is to look as if you’re on a mission, as if you’ve got someplace important to be before coming back to the bar. But once you’ve made it outside, my friends, you’re practically home-free once you’ve hailed a cab.

Give yourself bonus points if you can get the driver to sing Killing Me Softly along with you at the top of your lungs.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

The Irish Goodbye

In an amazing display of organization and efficiency, the gorgeous Bar Convent Berlin (Berlin Bar Convention) started this morning. Since I had the rare wisdom to leave early last night, I was able to be there for the first presentation of the day, Cachaça: The Soul of Brazil, presented by the brilliant Jared Brown and Anastasia Miller, with my good friend John Gakuru, global brand ambassador for Sagatiba Cachaça.

I’d picked up their book, The Soul of Brazil when I was at Tales of the Cocktail this summer, and have been savoring every deliciously historical fact this summer – so I was quite excited to be able to sit in a room and learn more about one of my favorite spirits this morning.

I won’t get into too much of the extensive information that was presented today, but rather share with you some quick facts about cachaça:

Cachaça is the third most-produced spirit in the world – in the world – which might surprise some of you. 1.3 billion liters are produced annually, but only 20 million of those are exported – a mere 1% each year. I’m sure you can figure out what happens to the remainder.

After the presentation, I had the pleasure of hanging out with Mr. Gakuru and sampling some of the Sagatiba Preciosa, a gorgeous 23 year-old spirit that was the result of a very fortuitous accidental find on the grounds of the distillery. If any cane distillate is the heir apparent to the cognac throne, this is certainly it. But grab it while you can, because once this one’s gone we most likely won’t be seeing an overaged cachaça for a long, long time.

I then wandered around the floor sampling spirits without Jay Hepburn, who was lost to the pleasures of Berlin for the morning. There is a huge gap between the American and European markets that I’ve been made very aware of while I’ve been here. Products that we covet back in the States are easily available here in Western Europe, while simple brands that I’d expect to find in any American control-state liquor store are prized for their rarity.

I got into a little Old Tom gin tasting at the GSA booth (my goodness, Old Tom is popular here right now) and was able to set Both’s Old Tom against the Secret Treasures Old Tom, which was a serious tongue-tying exercise in botanical and sugar palate definitions. The best I can describe them both at this late hour is that the Secret Treasures gin relied more heavily on the sweetness of the botanicals (much like the Jensen’s) while the Both’s used sugar to accentuate the more floral botanicals like lavender, rose and orange. Both were quite sippable, most certainly the Both’s, but the Secret Treasures came off as much more mixable in cocktails geared to today’s palate.

I finished off my day by watching the showmanship of Mr. Phillip Duff, Bols Global Brand Ambassador as he demonstrated some simple, yet thoughtful ways to increase sales from behind the bar using a few key strategies. Phil, I’m going to maintain a little grudge for knocking the States’ economy at my expense for the crowd, but applaud you for a great presentation. And I promise I will get you back, sir!

After a full morning of BCB, I headed back to the hotel to wrap up the final touches on my presentation for tomorrow afternoon. I hope to see you all there at 1:45 PM.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

First Day of the Bar Convent Berlin

So, here we go:

1. I begin my day at a restaurant recommended to me by Helmut Adam, where – thanks to my severe language deficiency – I mistakenly order a non-alcoholic beer with lunch.

2. I take a lovely stroll through West Berlin and see some non-bar-trade-related sights. There are a lot of German Shepherds going for walksies in Berlin. I think they just call them “Shepherds” here.

3. I walk back over the river to West Berlin for a social at Mixology headquarters. I don’t know why I was surprised to see a big, beautiful bar situated in the office of a huge bartending magazine, but I was.

4. I have a run-in with Jay Hepburn. Again.

5. Jay and I discover the Mixology liquor closet. Jay is much more amenable when surrounded by 2,000 of his closest friends.

6. The gregarious Phillip Duff pours us into a cab and takes us to Reingold for an amazing party hosted by the Traveling Mixologists. Jörg Meyer is spotted on many sides of the bar.

7. Simon Difford confides in me that he has a Google Alert for his name. I make a mental note to mention him in every future blog post in order to force him to read this site.

8. Rag-tag group piles into yet another cab and finds a hotel bar.

9. Things start getting fuzzy.

10. Rag-tag group walks a mile to a bar that Difford wants to check out for his upcoming bar guide.

11. Bar is closed.

12. Group attempts to find other bar. For Difford’s bar guide.

13. Jeff hails cab and sneaks back to hotel. Few notice.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

How to Write a Blog Post After a Full Night of German Hospitality

We started out at Beckett’s Kopf, an amazing cocktailian-type bar. We walked in to super cozy, intimate little space and were immediately greeted by Cristina Neves with the cocktail menu, which was bound in between chapters of a hardcover book about Samuel Beckett. We selected some choices from the classic cocktails section and, rather than waiting around forever for something that never arrived, received some dead-on cocktails in our hands. I tried a Buck and Breck and the best Bronx Cocktail I’ve ever had as I sat and watched bartender Oliver Ebert executing drinks from behind the bar with razor-sharp precision.

Helmut then took us to Rum Trader and introduced us to Gregor Scholl and Thomas Ständer, who were our guides through a sea of Dark and Stormys (Darks and Stormy?) made with Bacardi 8 and Fentiman’s Ginger Beer, Daiquiris, and Corn ‘n’ Oils (again, what’s the plural?) made with the new Forgotten Flavours falernum. Herr Scholl served as a wonderful reminder to all of us that while we tend to get so wrapped up in flavors and ingredients, arcane recipes and (as my co-bartender so eloquently puts it) all our housemade bullshit, nothing can pass for genuine hospitality and thoughtful service. Gregor’s graciousness and mastery of his space is something I’ve honestly never witnessed in the United States, or anywhere else for that matter. Leaving the bar was almost heartbreaking for us, as we’d been so well treated that it felt like leaving home.

But, like brave little souls, we were able to withstand the pain once we were being given the tour of Café Einstein by bartender Thomas Pflanz. Not only is the bar located in one of the most beautiful spaces I’ve ever been in, not only do they have a full organic herb garden to pick fresh ingredients from outside on the terrace, but this German bar has (on the authority of my companions) a wider selection of gins than any bar in the United Kingdom. Really. I sat there, wide-eyed, ogling the back-bar as I spotted products I’d never seen, products that I thought were no longer in existence, and even a few from back home that I wouldn’t expect to find in a bar in Berlin.

From what I’ve already seen, the German bar trade has got a leg up on all of us in the English-speaking world, and they’re anything but smug about it. There was graciousness, hospitality, enthusiasm and a real love of the business about last night, and I’m looking forward to seeing much more over the next week.

You’ll probably notice that I forgot to pack my camera along on this particular bar tour, which won’t happen again. As I know many of you aren’t accustomed to tolerating my incessant droning without the relief of an image or two sprinkled throughout, I’ll offer this:

With apologies to my younger brother, but then again he wasn’t the one wearing lederhosen.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

First Night in Berlin

After a slow start this morning and some shopping for new clothing (thanks a lot, British Airways) it was time to settle in for some afternoon cocktails as I was judging the UK finals of the Martin Miller’s Mixology Competition. Seven contestants battled fiercely on the stage at Miller’s Academy of Arts and Science, an exquisite little lecture hall in Notting Hill that – over the course of the next four hours – would become a booze-fueled den of iniquity.

I was joined at the judges’ table by Martin Miller himself, fresh ray of morning sunshine Jon Santer, and fellow blogger Jay Hepburn. We braced ourselves for a round of seven different variations of the contestants’ take on the venerable English classic, the gin and tonic.

It wouldn’t be a modern mixology competition without molecular gastronomical techniques, so the first drink out of the gate was a plate of tonic gelée finished with a Martin Miller’s gin caviar and a dusting of citric powders. As we slurped away on our tasting spoons, one of the judges did note the problem of textural issues in molecular mixology. Personally, I feel that contrasting consistencies are an important element that many forget to address in molecular bartending.

Anyway, there were some highs and some lows, as there are in any bar competition, yet this was definitely the finest line-up of any competition I’ve witnessed so far.

As the crowd, fueled by cast-off remnants of drinks long judged, began to turn on host Liam Davy, he introduced the final round: the gin and tonic speed pour. Each contestant would have one minute to turn out as many gins and tonic as humanly possible, all the while making an enormous mess of exploding Fever Tree tonic bottles, discarded lime wedges, and ice.

Some of you may recognize Paul Mant above, who, while undisputedly the fastest bartender in the United Kingdom, is definitely not the tidiest. So as I sat staring at the mess that was accumulating around the contestants’ bar area, I thought to myself, “Whoa, look at the time!” and snuck out the door to rest up before dinner.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

UK Finals – Martin Miller’s Cocktail Competition

UK/Iceland

Martin Miller’s Gin has graciously brought me to London and Iceland for a week of gin education, touring, and merriment at some of the finest bars in the world.

While I can’t bring each and every one of you with me, I’ll be sharing everything I learn here with you over the next week. So continue to check back for updates and information as I experience them first-hand.

The driver that picked me up at Heathrow almost didn’t find the place. I definitely didn’t see it, but after nit-picking through the library of buildings packed together on Westbourne Grove it suddenly appeared to us, like something out a Harry Potter tale. Ten feet wide and six stories tall, Miller’s Residence is packed to the rafters with a display of antiques amassed by lifelong collector Martin Miller.

On my bed, I found a note:

To the uninitiated, this is an intimate 18th century style boutique hotel nestled in the heart of London that will transport you into the romance of a bygone era. Here you will see for yourself the sumptuous antique furnishings and exquisite decoration that belie my fascination with the past. The hotel is the essence of a welcoming private residence and I am confident that your stay will be a comfortable and interesting one.

My room is on the very top floor, overlooking Notting Hill. I’m surrounded by antique plates, etchings of fox hunts, and layers of rich embroidery and tapestry. There are also framed political cartoons and a picture of Jerry Hall.

Some delight in calling me an eccentric but I rather like to think of myself as more of a traditionalist in most things. The wonderful thing about tradition is that it exists to be subverted and this is what I have done in the creation of my Martin Miller’s Gin.

I can already tell that this is going to be a most interesting trip.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

So That’s Martin Miller…

Right now I’m packing my bags and making last-minute preparations for a very special trip. Martin Miller’s Gin has graciously offered to fly me to London and Iceland for a week of gin education, touring, cocktail judging, and the possibility of merriment at some of the finest bars and restaurants in the world.

Being a gin aficionado, the chance to learn more about one of my favorite brands is certainly enticing, as I’ve been enamored with Martin Miller’s since discovering the gin a year and a half ago. And once I became acquainted with the 90.4 proof Westbourne Strength, my adoration has turned into something more of an obsession.

But this is an especially incredible opportunity for me as a bartender and spirits/cocktails blogger, being given the opportunity to connect with the people who distill the product I use, to meet other bartenders in the global community who share my passion for the craft, and to learn, learn, learn. Education has always been the cornerstone of my bartending philosophy, and this next week promises to be more informative than anything I could have hoped for.

And while I can’t bring each and every one of you with me, I will be sharing everything I learn here with you over the next week. So continue to check back in for updates and information as I experience them first-hand.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Packing for The UK and Iceland

We’re fortunate to have some great minds in absinthe here in the Pacific Northwest, and on Sunday a few of them came together to share their extensive knowledge with the attendees of the Great American Distiller’s Festival in a panel titled “Q&A on Northwest Absinthe”

The panel featured Gwydion Stone, founder of the educational organization The Wormwood Society and creator of the soon-to-be released Marteau absinthe, Marc Bernhard, creator of the soon-to-be released Pacifique absinthe, and Rich Phillips from Integrity Spirits, producers of the first Oregon absinthe, Trillium.

I’ve done a fair amount of reading about absinthe and tried to learn as much as possible on my own, but the panel was still informative and provided me with some great facts to fill in for the gaps in my knowledge. I’ll recap here:

Absinthe was banned in 1912 by Food Inspection Decision 147 of the USDA. It forbade the manufacture, sale or transportation of absinthe. Several events contributed to our rediscovery of absinthe:

• An understanding of the term “thujone-free”, which relies on a test that comes with a 10 ppm (parts per million) margin of error.
• The discovery that real, legitimate, pre-ban French and Swiss absinthes often contained less than 10 ppm.
• A greater amount of interest in classic cocktails and lost ingredients, which was certainly fostered by communication between enthusiasts on the internet.

I wasn’t aware that sagebrush is a member of the same plant family as wormwood (artemesia), and that culinary sage actually contains more thujone than wormwood.

I didn’t really know where the green color present in verte absinthes came from, and now I do: after the final distillation, hyssop, lemonbalm and Roman wormwood are macerated in the absinthe to provide additional flavor and a pale green color. There was no mention of what might produce a neon blue color.

This one I knew, but I’d like to reiterate it here: The ritual of lighting a sugar cube on fire and dropping it into absinthe is inauthentic, a recent invention, and a potentially dangerous ceremony centered around the consumption of illegitimate absinthes of inferior quality. As Marc so eloquently put it, “Friends don’t let friends burn absinthe.“

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The Great American Distiller’s Festival: Q&A on Northwest Absinthe

The first event was a seminar titled “The History of the Cocktail“, led by Robert Hess. Robert jumped right in there with a crash course on spirits, theories about the origins of mixed drinks in general, and some basic drink etymology. The team from the Teardrop Lounge mixed Old-Fashioned Whiskey Cocktails while Robert demonstrated the simplicity involved in creating this, the original cocktail and a surprisingly complex little number considering its spartan ingredient list.

Robert then jumped into a brief history of aromatized wines such as vermouth, and their popularity in cocktails in the late nineteenth century. The team whipped up a batch of very large Manhattans while the crowd braced themselves for a 1PM rye whoopin‘.

And in a perfectly logical move, Robert demonstrated how the Martini grew out of the Manhattan and proved it by passing around his interpretation of the original Martini, made with Dry Fly gin, Carpano Antica Formula vermouth, and Angostura orange bitters. The crowd swooned as they took another brunch-sized blast of 80 proof liquor.

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The Great American Distiller’s Festival: History of the Cocktail with Robert Hess

To Tales of the Cocktail, that is. You see, after last year’s debacle there was no way I was going to miss this one. In fact, I was so excited about going that I somehow showed up to the airport a day early, embarrassed as heck and thanking the nice young lady up and down for rescheduling my flights. (If Beaumont were there he totally would have made fun of me until I peed my pants.)

Anyway, no harm done, as I’m currently at the Portland Airport waiting for my connection to Dallas, and then off to New Orleans. I’ll be posting updates via Twitter, here on my site, and most importantly on the ginormous collaborative cocktail blog that we’ve set up to provide more Tales coverage than you’ll be able to shake a swizzle stick at.

More to come soon, I’ve got to get ready for my flight!

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On My Way!

So, to rinse off whatever anxieties I’ve accumulated during a day’s travel, I like to unwind by doing a little bar research once I arrive at my destination. Being in Los Angeles to visit my sister, and knowing where I’d go if I were Chuck Taggart, I headed downtown to sit at Southern California’s shrine to whiskey: Seven Grand.

When I’m visiting a bar of this caliber, I usually like to start with one of the classics, just to get a feel for the place. So my first cocktail was an expertly-prepared Sazerac, with Rittenhouse rye and Pernod. While I’ve got to say that I usually prefer Herbsainte to the syrupy-sweet Pernod, it became less of an issue with the punch of the 100-proof whiskey. In place of the traditional lemon peel, they used orange peel. Nice touch, dudes.

Next I decided to take a chance and venture onto the house specialty portion of the menu, something I almost never do unless I’m in a reputable establishment such as this (really, you have no idea what sort of abominations have been placed in front of me under the guise of ‘mixology’). So I ordered up an Elder Fitzgerald, which I’m guessing went something like this:

2 oz Old Fitzgerald 12 year-old bourbon
1 oz lemon juice
¾ oz St. Germain elderflower liqueur
½ oz simple syrup
1 egg white

…but I could be wrong. Old Fitzgerald is light and spicy, and a perfect compliment to the elderflower liqueur. The lemon adds the right amount to tartness, and the egg white builds a nice, creamy mouthfeel and a foamy head on the drink.

All good things must come to an end, and after four ounces of whiskey in me and very little sleep on the plane, it was about bedtime for Bonzo. Seven Grand is a little oasis in a desert of low-carb vodka/sodas and Red Bull drinks. I’ll be back, and next time I’m taking you with me, Taggart.

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Seven Grand, Los Angeles

The first bar on my list was the Flatiron Lounge, near Gramercy Park. All of the reviews I’d read told me that this was the place to be treated to some serious bartending, and judging by the cocktail menu that was placed before me, I was going to be in for a treat.

My first drink from the menu was a Chinchona, created by Charlotte Voisey, Hendrick’s Gin Brand Champion. The drink, to the best of my recollection, contained añejo tequila, Lillet rouge and orange bitters. I watched as my bartender, Giuseppe Gonzalez, crafted my cocktail with the technical prowess and attention to detail of a true master.

Sitting at the bar at the Flatiron, admiring their extensive liquor collection, I noticed a bottle I’d never seen before. Upon inquiring further, Giuseppe brought the bottle down from the shelf and let me try a sip. Amaro Abano, by Luxardo. Rich and viscous, with a lot of cardamom, saffron and bitter orange. The saffron interested me, so I asked to try a Negroni with the amaro. Giuseppe grabbed two ounces of Old Raj gin, and one ounce each of the Abano and Campari. The Abano lent a heavier texture than Italian vermouth, something like a reduction of Punt e Mes. But considering the 2:1:1 ratio, the drink worked well, especially in Giuseppe’s skilled hands.

By this point my friends from Eugene had showed up and it was time to track down some more cocktails before heading back to the hotel to pack for my flight.

Our next stop was to be Please Don’t Tell, a new cocktail-centric bar in St. Mark’s Place that has been hugely successful since its opening this year. Unfortunately I never got to set foot inside, as the place was packed beyond capacity. Heavy sigh…

The good news was that famed bar Death and Company was right around the corner. The bad news was delivered to us by the staff as we walked in on them dismantling the bar for the night. I considered suggesting we implement the recently-announced bartender exchange program right then and there (I’d take over breaking down the bar and they could fly back to Eugene and work my shift – sounds fair, right?) but I kept my mouth shut and assured them that we’d be back.

I’ve admired Sascha Petraske’s bartending philosophy for quite some time now, and I wanted to try at least one of his world-famous bars before I left. So the last stop of the night was decided to be Little Branch, a semi-reclusive neighborhood joint in the basement of a corner building in the West Village.

We were shown to our table by the cocktail server, directly across the aisle from the bossa nova quartet that was filling the cavern with familiar, soothing melodies.

My friends and I browsed the simple and well-constructed cocktail menu and settled in on a Hot Toddy, a Bramble, and (my selection) a Bartender’s Choice with the caveat that I was in the mood for some nice rye. I was delivered a light, beautifully-balanced blend of Rittenhouse rye, Laird’s applejack and Regan’s orange bitters, bathing a single cube of freshly-cut ice.

While I missed out on half my list of bars to see during my 36 hours in Manhattan, I was humbled by the professional service, brilliant craftsmanship and profound knowledge I witnessed in the two bars I was able to visit.

I’ll be back, New York.

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Manhattan Bar Tour: Two Outta Four Ain’t Bad, Right?

After a few late take-offs and missed flights, I finally arrived in Manhattan in time to check in to my hotel and scrub my travel-weary face before heading out on the town for a short visit.

Sometimes the stars align and you get to meet a bunch of Oregon bartenders in New York, which is exactly what happened tonight. I had dinner with Hillary Sites, Albert Halfl and Aaron Hopps, all current and former Eugene bartenders:

After dinner, I convinced Hillary and her boyfriend John (another former Eugenian) to join me at Audrey Saunders’ Pegu Club for drinks.

I had their Pisco Punch (more about that previously and in the future), Hillary grabbed herself a perfectly-executed Pegu Club Cocktail, and John dipped into a Tantris Sidecar.

I promise I’ll write a more in-depth review of the drinks when I can, but for now, it’s late and I’ve got to get to bed in anticipation of Repeal Day.

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My Trip To Manhattan, Part 1

I was in Portland again this weekend, taking a tour of House Spirits Distillery and meeting with some West Coast cocktail luminaries. I’ve been a big fan of the House Spirits products for quite some time, so this was quite the excursion for me.

I was met there by some other like-minded enthusiasts:

Erik Ellestad of the eGullet Spirits and Cocktails forum was in town. If you haven’t seen Erik’s Stomping Through the Savoy thread where he’s making every drink, in order, from the Savoy Cocktail Book, then do yourself a favor and check it out. More about that in a bit.

Kevin Ludwig of Park Kitchen fame and the original king of housemade tonic water here in the Pacific Northwest (maybe you remember him from Imbibe Magazine earlier this year?).

We started with a quick tour of the distilling process given by owner Lee Medoff, while House Spirits bar master Matt whipped up some Aviation cocktails made with two parts Aviation gin, one part fresh lemon juice and one part Maraska maraschino liqueur.

After the tour, and a few more cocktails by Matt, we all took turns behind the bar whipping up our specialties using Aviation.

Kevin made a round of Salt and Peppers for us using Aviation gin, fresh grapefruit juice, fresh lime juice and a touch of simple syrup, served up in a glass with a salted rim. Just a touch of spice and refreshing as hell.

I stepped in and made a Pink, one of our El Vaquero house drinks made with Aviation gin, creme de cassis, fresh lemon juice and a touch of simple syrup. I’ve always liked this one because it doesn’t hide the Aviation under a lot of other flavors and lets me really taste the unique flavors found in the gin.

But what happened next took us all by surprise. Erik, the only one of the group not a bartender, stepped behind the stick and deftly produced a round of ATTY cocktails, straight from the Savoy Cocktail Book, using Aviation gin, maraschino liqueur, Lucid Absinthe, Martini and Rossi dry vermouth and a twist of lemon. Perfect exploration of the flavors found in the Aviation, and a great use of the ingredients we had on hand. Nice work, Erik!

The hour was getting late, so we raced across town to meet Siobhan Crosby of Imbibe Magazine at Clyde Common, Portland’s newest food and drink hotspot. Bartender Charlie Hodge had us eating out of the palm of his hand as he poured us Mint Juleps made with mint-infused bourbon…

…and Anemic Marys made with Serrano chili, sun-dried tomato vodka, celery juice and fresh citrus sour.

But, as all good things must come to an end, so did we begin the long trip back down the Interstate to our humble home. Thanks again, Portland, we’ll be seeing you all very soon!

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House Spirits Distillery Tour and Cocktail Tasting

Yesterday my co-pilot at El Vaquero, Scott, and I made our way up to Portland at nine in the morning for the Great American Distillers Festival – a feat not easily accomplished by two bartenders who had closed the bar the previous night.

The list of products available for tasting was short – this ain’t Vegas – but still fairly well-represented across the major categories. What was of particular interest to me, though, was the mixology competition located in the subterranean bunker several hundred feet below the Earth’s surface.

Siobhan Crosby of Imbibe Magazine emceed the event, with illustrious judges such as Lucy Brennan of Mint and 820, Tim Davey of Uptown Liquor, Anne Marie DiStefano, a writer for The Portland Tribune and Karen Foley of Imbibe Magazine.

I had read some great reviews of the Teardrop Lounge and have been excited to check out their space, but alas, they’re closed on my one day off. Fortunately for us, we were able to meet up with owner Daniel Shoemaker and bartender David Shenaut, who gave us a private tour of their enormous collection of housemade bitters, syrups and mixers after the festival.

Daniel made us an Adonis cocktail with SakeOne G-Joy sake in place of sherry, and their housemade pau d’arco bark bitters standing in for orange bitters. The flavors were complex, savory, and balanced – and opened up another mile by the addition of lemon zest.

Next we tried their Sazerac, made with Sazerac rye, Herbsainte and housemade cherry-vanilla bitters, on the rocks. It was lighter than a traditional Sazerac, with a balance that explored the savory side of the rye in a way that I’d never considered before.

By this point it was getting to be time to sober up for a few hours and make the long trek back to Eugene. All in all, it was a great experience, and I’m looking forward to getting back up to civilization again very soon.

Thanks, Portland!

Update: Phil over at Lamb Martini has a great little write-up here (I can’t believe I didn’t get to catch up with him) and Trader Tiki went all out. There’s also a pretty in-depth product review at Blotto.

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The Great American Distillers Festival

He’s a super nice guy, very much into bartending, and bartending toys, and flair bartending. He always had a smile on his face and loved to talk to everyone about bartending. He even seemed to like my idea for Repeal Day and promised he’d try to help if I sent him copies of the photos. I don’t have your email address, Scott!

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Gettin’ My Flair On

It’s a weird scene. There are serious people who attend this sort of event to network with other professionals and learn about new trade items. And then there are people who are there to party and get drunk on free samples. I took the high road and tried to learn as much as I possibly could in the short time that I was there. So I skipped over a lot of the booths. Like the one Malibu Rum set up and had fronted by this guy in the banana suit:

And of course there’s a lot of this business everywhere:

But there’s also a lot of good product tables, and I’m going to show you some of the best ones I found.

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What to Expect at the Vegas Bar and Restaurant Show