Tales of the Cocktail 2008: "I love it that we have the country's best pastry chef cutting fruit"

or Apprentices, the people responsible for you having your drinks at Tales

[Note to Don Lee: Thanks for acting as copy editor/fact checker on this entry.]

Thursday night, Muriel's was the setting of "Desmond Payne's Ruby Jubilee" to honor Desmond Payne, Beefeater's master distiller.

While the party went on in the second level of Muriel's, I found myself outside on the balcony suffused with the sound of muffled revelry leaking out into the evening. Drinks sweated profusely in the thick sticky night as I sat in a group that included John Deragon, Don Lee and Daniel Eun of PDT, both Ebens Klemm (B.R. Guest) and Freeman (Tailor), Ryan Fitzgerald of Beretta in San Francisco and Dave Arnold, director of culinary technology at The French Culinary Institute. The group grew and contracted throughout the evening as other bartenders came and left.

I was discussing with Mr. Lee about not wanting to appear like a self-important writer who wrote about bartending because they couldn't. Not that I was being all presumptuous that I could actually bartend, but I really wanted to be serious about the bar trade so as not to waste the time of bartenders I talked to. And I wanted a bit of better understanding about what I was writing. I felt like I lacked in the experience department and was toying with the idea of how to get that.

"You know, like something like street cred," I said, not realizing that I'd inadvertently created a running joke that'd follow me the next couple of days.

"You want bartender street cred? You come juice some lemons and limes in the juice line in the kitchen," Don said. "If you're looking for stories that's the untold story of Tales right there. I've got a pirate-like crew of people working several hours a day."

Don and John were helping Phil Ward (Death and Co.) in a ragtag group of bartender "apprentices". It was kind of an interesting title choice once you saw the caliber of bartenders in the kitchen. They were responsible for batching and creating pretty much all the cocktails served at Tales related events. And if they weren't in the kitchen, they were in the seminar rooms or behind a bar at some event mixing and shaking.

My ears pricked at this suggestion. As informative the seminars had been, to be honest, I could only sit through so many of them and was starting to get a bit of first-timer burnout. At the same time I felt obligated to attend as much as possible to cram knowledge into my head, but it came at a cost. My butt was starting to get tired from sitting and my hands were itching from hearing about all the techniques and recipes.

"Really? I can do that?" I asked.

"Hey John, Sonya's gonna come down to the kitchen tomorrow to get some 'street cred' with us," Don said, the scare quotes practically etching themselves into the almost solid, humid air.

But then I remembered a press event I RSVP'ed to go to the next morning. Could I come in to help an hour in the morning?

"No." John and Don both said.

"You're either in it all the way or you're not," Don said. "The juice line doesn't work that way."

"Oh, come on," I protested. "It's not like I don't want to help. I just have a prearranged engagement tomorrow morning."

"That's called wussing out."

"No, that's called being responsible," I said.

My protestations were soon lost when Dave Arnold said he'd jump in the line and the conversation devolved into an impromptu event to set up a juice-a-thon between Ryan Fitzgerald and himself. Rules were written, and abandoned in the same breath and much smack was talked until Leo DeGroff made an appearance and showed interest in the wager. Apparently Leo's juicing skills is the stuff of legend and something meant to be discussed only in hushed tones of reverence. Ryan, the group's favorite, was quickly displaced by the Prince of Cocktail.

All Friday morning I found myself preoccupied with whether or not the showdown had happened between Ryan and Dave as I sat through a seminar on bitters after a media breakfast held at Brennan's. I wanted to go peek in to see what happened, but feared that I was banned from the kitchen thanks to my wussing out.

After the seminar I ran into LaTanya White, owner of the cocktail catering company 71 Proof in Tallahassee, Fla., as well as one of the apprentices. She said that it should be fine if I go down to the kitchen and helped now. With almost three hours free until I had to be at another seminar, I let Don know I was present to help. Alex Day pointed me to a box of latex gloves. I pulled a pair on and got to juicing. I was going to prove that I could do it and I wasn't just some soft doughy writer sitting in front of a computer who...

"Just wait one goddamn second," I thought an hour and a half later when I realized I had been juicing what seemed like a never ending flow of limes.

OK, maybe, just maaaaaaaayybe Don did Tom Sawyer me into helping out by insinuating both my mettle as journalist and a basic human being weren't up to snuff if I did not participate, but the man had a point about this being hard work. If you didn't see it just walking into hectic kitchen, you certainly knew it after changing gloves for the third time because the juices would penetrate through the latex and make your fingers sting and feeling the your shoulder muscles stiffen from using a a manual juicer, or, as I saw with Alex, having an electric juicer snip at your fingers if you weren't paying attention.

I wasn't the only one pressed (ha!) into service. Dave Arnold, who to his credit did show up at 8 a.m. to help juice, returned to juice some more. Even Jean-Georges pastry chef Johnny Iuzzini, who was attending Tales, popped into the kitchen to see how things were going and offer some morale. But that was his mistake because he also got pointed to the box of latex gloves by Alex. Johnny tried to laugh it off, but you don't joke about the juice line. So he too pulled on a pair and joined Joaquin Simo at his side to help cut limes in half to be juiced.

"I love it that we have the country's best pastry chef cutting fruit," Joaquin later commented.

And if for whatever reason you decide that your life is not complete unless you see someone halve lemons and limes at inhuman speeds, call up Johnny Iuzzini. That man goes through a crate of limes like...like...some kind of...lime cutting machine that cuts super fast.

Don pressed upon me several times that he was not joking about the group being like a pirate crew, and as I stood there listening to the orgeat syrup-like musical stylings of Curtis Mayfield coming out of on iPod dock, taking swigs out of a communal bottle of Rittenhouse and taking in the frequently salty banter of a group of hard working and harder playing bartenders, Don's comparison was ringing pretty true.

(A scene from the kitchen: Photo of Ryan in his "I Hate Cocktails" shirt taken by Camper. Not pictured? The back of the shirt. I'll just leave it at saying that several times on Friday when I'd unwittingly look in Ryan's direction when he had his back to me I'd burst out laughing. Maxwell Britten also gets honorable mention for his "Brown and stirred, bitches" shirt.)

So at 7:55 a.m. on Saturday I was back in the kitchen asking what I could help with. Don said it was a bit easier that morning and I made some lemon twists and orange zest and skipped off to another seminar.

It's kind of hard to see the scale how much these guys did even when you're in the thick of it producing gallons of juice or cutting 350 lemon twists because it becomes repetitive and downright inevitable in some ways. However, once out of the kitchen and throughout the day, I'd spot a lemon twist or an orange twist floating in a cocktail that looked oddly familiar or see how many times lemon and lime juice would come up in a recipe presented during a seminar as people sipped the samples, and speaking of which, how about all the math Don and John were doing to make enough cocktails for a 100 people with a recipe made to serve one? It was pretty insane to realize just how much work these guys were doing.

Don caught me in the hallway of the Hotel Monteleone a little later in the day and said that there was a last minute juicing emergency and I should get in the kitchen if I wanted to help.

Thomas Waugh (Alembic) and Joaquin were busy trying to get wheels and wedges out of limes so they weren't ready for juicing so I got to helping with some lemons.

Death and Co. owner Dave Kaplan made the same mistake Johnny did the day before and got put on the juice line for a while.

Eben Freeman came down to help and was soon organizing people and delegating tasks. Seeing me slooooooooowwwwwly cutting lemon twists (in my defense, I did just learn how to do it that morning) he told me to grab a free juicer to help with the limes while he got on the lemons to get the amount of twists needed and was soon getting them ready to be juiced.

All of the sudden it was like the juicing All Stars. Leo DeGroff showed up and proceeded to own everyone in the kitchen as he deftly manhandled an electric juicer and some unfortunate limes with a two-handed technique that I'm pretty sure broke several rules of physics.

"I give up. There's no way I'm keeping up with that," Daniel Eun said and relinquished his manual juicer and moved over to the lemons side. He wasn't an apprentice and was at Tales to hang out, but he also had been helping out in the kitchen whenever possible.

"Holy crap," I thought as I stared slack-jawed with a look that bordered on abject terror.

"I feel pretty damn useless next to you," I told Leo and was about to give up and go help where my help was actually needed, but he picked up a hand press and showed me.

"Just do it like this," he said and then proceeded to squeeze out a shot of juice that splashed me like I was in the splash zone at SeaWorld. Easy enough for him to say, he's been doing this since he was, like, 16 or something. He handily filled up the 1/3 full container to the brim in a matter of minutes before leaving.

For a few minutes I found myself juicing limes next to Gary Regan and it turned into a Christmas miracle. We thought we needed three more gallons of lime juice, but with the intervention of Saint Gary, when Eben decided to double-check we found out we just needed to top off the one container we were working on. There was more to be done, but at least a majority of the juicing was over with, so I went ahead to go get ready for the Tales of the Cocktail Spirit Awards.

"Thanks for the help," Phil Ward told me on Sunday before the start of a punch seminar he was chairing with Allen Katz and Dave Wondrich.

"No, thank you. It was a learning experience," I returned, and I meant it. Zesting an orange? I mean, I know how to grate, but I don't really do it all the time or anything like that. But thanks to talking to bartenders for so long, I now knew about pith. How else would I have found out that a dampened paper napkin lining the bottom of a container for twists, as well as covering them with another dampened paper napkin would keep them from drying out unless Dave Arnold told me? Sounds like common sense, but I never had to store 200 lemon twists and I don't know if I ever will. Using a peeler to get lemon twists was infinitely easier after Ryan fixed something as simple as where was placing my forefinger. And how would I have picked up the handy tip of soaking some cool limes that had been sitting in a walkthrough in warm water before juicing unless I'd watched Eben Freeman do exactly that?

That's pretty much what I wanted. I wasn't looking for some kind of macho respect when I said street cred, I just wanted to learn how things were done in the day-by-day. I could ask all the questions I had when I visited bars or read all the books I wanted, but what I wanted to know was what was habit to these guys.

"It's stuff like this that's what street cred's about," Don told me one evening. "It's not about who's got the best technique or who's making the best recipes. It's who's staying late to work on the garnishes or staying late to clean up."

So anyways, much kudos to the apprentice program guys. I know I didn't get to meet all of you, but great working with you (and please let me know if I've missed anybody in this list or got anything):

John Paul Deragon
Don Lee
Armando Archundia (the dude came all the way from Switzerland)
Joaquin Simo
Maxwell Britten
Alex Day
Jacquelyn Leon
Rhiannon Enlil
Catherine Fellet
LaTanya White
Ryan Fitzgerald
Chris Hannah
Thomas Waugh
Jim Kearns
Josephine Packard
Kimberly Patton-Bragg
Peter Vestinos

P.S. Thomas Waugh spilled about a pint of lime juice on me. Don and John, you derided me for not having capped him back with my juicer, but I just want you all to know, that's all part of my strategy. Oh, I'm going to get him all right. One of these days. He just doesn't know when or where.

Absinthe sipping at La Fée's U.S. launch party

June 23

It seemed like La Fée really wanted to tie the image of their product to its history as being a muse for artists. The space rented for the event was a sort of all-purpose space billed for use as gallery and sometimes fashion show setting. Emerald green bottles of absinthe as well minty colored prepared versions of it stood out against the stark white setting of the place. Everything was white, the tables, chairs, linen. Except for one brightly-colored sofa that looked highly embarrassed that no one informed it that this would be a white-outfit party, the entire place was as white as a canvas with a fresh coat of gesso.

Even George Rowley, managing director of La Fée, seemed dressed for the space in a light suit with pastel colors reminiscent of sorbet.

George visited our offices last Friday to talk about the product and one of the things about the appeal of absinthe in today's market is that even with all the stories of the drink's naughtiness, it has actual historical and cultural significance and was the drink of choice for numerous artists. The brand seems to be very keen on emphasizing that particular aspect of the drink through a pretty image conscious way of marketing the product and sets it aside from other products on the market. Though La Fée produces several varieties of absinthe, from a "Bohemian" that's more of a Czech style as well as premium wine-based versions, the brand at the moment is only making La Fee's Absinthe Parisienne available in United States market to not dilute the image. The flagship product is modeled to be more like the traditional French absinthe with its beet-based neutral spirits that was formulated and approved by absinthe historian and author Marie-Claude Delahaye of Musée de l'Absinthe in France. The bottles also come with an absinthe spoon to help consumers enjoy it the way it was back in its heyday without being intimidated by the idea of not having all the necessary props. And, hey, free spoon.

The event really got into this artist imagery with five canvasses hung around the main area of the space at the event. Four of them depicted minimalist image and text related to an artist who partook of absinthe. A pedestal in front of these canvasses held the physical item depicted on the canvass giving the whole thing an even more of an installation feel. For example, one canvas showed a broken teacup, with text saying Van Gogh drank absinthe from a broken teacup. The pedestal in front of the canvas held a broken teacup. Later in the evening the canvasses got raffled off. For a second I kind of wanted one. Then I realized I don't know why I wanted one besides the fact they were offering it and raffles get me all excited. I also realized that if I really did win a canvas, I'd have to schlep it home somehow and my desire to win quickly dissipated.


On my way to this event, I took a right and Spring and as I was walking down Mulberry when I bumped into Leo DeGroff (Contemporary Cocktails) and his girlfriend Kaye Rabuy, and Pegu Club's Kenta Goto. They were on their way to the event as well and were coming from the NY Bar Show. I'd entirely forgotten that. Well, "forget" is incorrect. I was thinking about attending it, but noticed that the times and dates for the events and seminars I wanted to attend weren't working out with my schedule and I sort of put the whole thing out of my mind.

The main "art gallery" section had some tables serving up La Fée absinthe in the traditional manner, with water and sugar. They even had some absinthe fountains set up.

I said hello to Tony Abou-Ganim, then made my way into the adjoining room where the food was coming from. There were some tables and chairs set up and Damon Dyer (who mixes at Death and Co. and Flatiron Lounge) and Jonathan Pogash (The Cocktail Guru) were making Sazeracs (La Fée Absinthe Parisienne, sugar cube/granulated sugar, Peychuad's bitters, cognac), La Fée Sours (absinthe, fresh lemon juice, sugar, egg white), and Sea Foam Fizzes (absinthe, lemon juice, sugar, egg white and a touch of soda on top).

I even finally met Dave Kaplan, owner of Death and Co., putting a face to the voice.

Tad Carducci and Paul Tanguay (of the drink consulting firm The Tippling Bros.) were also present. And since we're on the topic of absinthe, the recently opened Apothecary Lounge in Philadelphia, where The Tippling Bros. consulted, has an elaborate absinthe fountain on premises.

Sometimes depending on the location (and slightly depending on the product), you can guess what the crowd will be like. I figured the Soho location would lend it to some hip persons making appearances, but I was also anticipating it to be a mish-mash of cool types and I was pretty on the money. I saw some very young ladies running around in Olsen twins' gear (large over-sized flannel shirt, shorts, huge plastic rim sunglasses) as well as a whole gaggle of leggy blondes in jewel-toned variations of shiny baby doll dresses. There were some music industry types. At one point you might find yourself talking to a dude in a crisp suit only to turn around and say "excuse me" to a guy in jeans and a graphic t-shirt.

It was one of those parties where you wander in and half the faces you recognize or you just feel like you might. Though honestly, there were several people there who just had "that face." You know, the kind where you could swear he was the guy who was in that thing about this thing, but you're not sure? Over the course of the evening, several times, from different persons (including myself), the refrain "Hey, that dude over there looks familiar," was repeated.

Also I really wanted the green lobster they had sitting on the pedestal for the Dali-themed canvas. Yea, no dice on that.

The Palm's new cocktails

April 21

After my meeting with Dita Von Teese, I took a jaunt down to West 50th to attend the launch party of The Palm's new Hand Crafted Cocktails menu created by Aisha Sharpe and Willy Shine.

I found Leo DeGroff outside The Palm and he introduced me to his fellow bartender for the evening, Tim Cooper. I talked about the interview I just concluded and we got into a bit of a discussion about alcohol brands and famous face attached to them. Somehow, the conversation ended up talking quite a bit about Mr. P. Diddy's promotion of Ciroc; and call it coincidence, but once inside I ran into someone who was planning on attending a Ciroc event that P. Diddy was supposed to be at. Shirea L. Carroll, a blogger for Vibe magazine and executive assistant to Vibe's editor in chief, told me she was going to be there to blog about the event. I asked her what her blog was about and she said it was a blog that gave readers a glimpse into what insider parties and events usually are like. I said that was a pretty interesting blog considering how industry events probably aren't the wild party centrals that some people would like to think they are. As I put it, "Yea, a lot of times it's a lot of suits."

The crowd hung out at the front bar for a while as Willy and Aisha mixed the new cocktails. Then the party moved to the back room to continue enjoying cocktails as well as some pretty tasty bite-sized foods. Though the roast beef slider was NOT bite-sized at all and I sort of had to gulp it down like a pelican or a penguin or something downing a large fish. As unappetizing an image as that is, I mean it when I say it was delicious. Also, I could eat Kobe beef frank pigs in a blanket all day.

The new hand-crafted cocktail menu was something that The Palm's executive vice president Bruce Bozzi Jr. wanted as part of his spearheading efforts to better the beverage selection for the steakhouse chain.

The menu features five new drinks, all created by Willy and Aisha, and are a call back to old-fashioned drinks in an homage to The Palm's history.

I saw Mr. Dale DeGroff again (I don't know why, but I have to add a "Mr." and refer to him by his full name). I also got to speak with Andy Seymour (check out his bio at www.akawinegeek.com). I'd seen him onstage during a demonstration he did with Leo during the seminar at Grand Marnier's Mixology Summit in Vail, Colo., but I didn't really get a chance to meet him there, so it was great getting to finally talk to him.

Willy said that new cocktails would be seasonally added to the menu, but it hasn't been decided yet which of the hand-crafted cocktails currently on the menu will stay or go.

The Palm's Hand Crafted Cocktails

The Cat's Meow
Absolut Citron Vodka and St. Germaine muddled with lemon juice and fresh mint. Served on the rocks with a splash of soda.

The Vixen
Belvedere Pomarancza Vodka and Mathilde Peches Peach Liqueur shaken with a blend of fresh orange, lemon juice and apricot preserves. Topped with a flamed orange peel.

Honeysuckle
Hendrick's Gin shaken with fresh lemon and grapefruit juice. Tonic, and honey, served on the rocks.

Screaming Mimi
Grey Goose Vodka and Cointreau Orange Liqueur blended with strawberry puree, lemon juice and served in a strawberry-topped flute with champagne.

The Gentle Palm
Muddled black berry and strawberry with Gentleman Jack Rare Tennessee Whiskey, pomegranate juice and black tea, served on the rocks.

Booze and high altitudes

March 30

A low-frequency headache continued to thud in the back of my head. An 8 am flight from New York, a layover in Minneapolis/St. Paul, and a bumpy turbulence-happy plane ride later I found found myself in Vail, Colo. for The 2008 Mixology Summit sponsored by Grand Marnier and Navan. I wasn't incapacitated, but the altitude was affecting me in a slow nagging manner that was hard to ignore.

Headache, slight nausea and dry mouth. I already felt hungover even before a single drink had passed between my lips.

"Well, since I already feel like I've been through an all-night bender, I guess there's only one solution," I thought to myself. "I think I'm just going to drink until I conveniently forget how I feel."

And the Mixology Summit was the perfect place to do it. For three days, the Marriott-Vail Mountain Resort was overrun with mixologists who came from all over to demonstrate their drinks, ski, and drink. And you know you're going to be able to get a hold of something to drink with bartenders running around. The event provided a full bar with everything each participating bartender needed, from mescal and absinthe, to oranges and carrots. That didn't stop some people from bringing their own stash just to make sure they had everything they needed.

This year 300 bartenders and mixologists from around the country applied to be part of the summit. Participants were asked to submit four drinks using Grand Marnier or Navan as an ingredient. Out of the 300, 100 made it to Vail where their drinks are recorded for posterity's sake in video and/or photo form and their recipes bound in a large tome.

While the whole deal just sounds like a big excuse to get a bunch of bartenders together and hang out and drink at a picturesque ski resort, they are in fact working while they are here. It's legit. They fill out tax forms and everything.

"This isn't a contest," JC Iglesias, business director for Grand Marnier, told me as he busily fluttered around one suite where the lab was taking place.

I had walked into a consulting session where bartender Myong Park from the Drawing Room in Chicago was painstakingly demonstrating for the videographer how to make an orange peel garnish for one of his drinks.

The winners are actually working since they are consultants for Grand Marnier and Navan. They receive a consultant's fee, and though they have to pay out of their pocket for hotel and air, they can write it off on their taxes. The drinks are then used by Grand Marnier and Navan as part of their cocktail directory. This is useful for many reasons. For Grand Marnier and Navan, it's great to be able to show possible bar and restaurant clients how their products can be used, but also, JC explained that bars will sometimes contact them asking what cocktails can be made using such and such ingredients and the company can provide them with recipes or recipe possibilities using the database they've acquired through the summit.

The labs were a flutter of activity as bartenders were in and out, grabbing at bottles and asking for ingredients. The radio crackled through with requests for ingredients from other rooms and staff members zipped in and out.

Speaking of staff, the people helping with keeping the lab bars stocked and also mixing behind the bars for events included familiar faces such as Jim Meehan and Don Lee. I even got to finally put a face to Phil Ward who I'd only talked about or heard of like some mythic folk character.

The reception in the evening featured several cocktails from Mixology Summit alumni.

I got a chance to talk to Jacques Bezuidenhout who I'd only talked to on the phone previously for the interview I did with him when I was writing my NRN 50 story on cocktails as survivors.

I also got to meet Leo DeGroff again who pointed out we hadn't seen each other since when I visited PDT last year.

"But we talked on the phone, right?" I protested.

"No, no," he corrected me. "It wasn't even on the phone. It was email."

Oh, well, the important thing is we got to meet up. Right?

After several cocktails and generously poured champagne I witnessed people dancing to Skee-Lo. I wondered if that would be indicative of the rest of the three days I'd spend here.