Hotel Delmano: The art of keeping a not-so-secret secret

I was gearing up to make my rounds of different lounges when I saw the blog buzz building around Hotel Delmano. After reading reports of people being turned away and phone numbers being taken down for a wait list, I decided I needed to bump up the Brooklyn joint on the list of bars to visit before it got too difficult to set foot in the place.

"I hope people in Williamsburg don't like to get their drink on at 7 pm on a Tuesday night," I thought to myself as I stepped off the L train at Bedford Ave.

I made a beeline for 82 Berry St. right after work but was relieved to find that I managed to find the place in a relative state of calm. I noticed several people passing by the place try to peer curiously into the frosted windows, and while I was in there, several curious locals even stepped in to ask about what was going on. In fact, the unassuming "main" storefront of the place, with its locked gate, almost made me think the place was closed at first glance. If you plan to make a visit you're going to want to go around the corner to the "side" entrance. Obviously, when it's busier this would not be an easy mistake to make.

I slowly pushed the door open and it was like I had stepped through a rift in the space time continuum and I found myself in the hotel bar somewhere in early between 1900 and 1950. From the old-school clunky cash registers behind the bar to the worn looking mirrors. I started wondering if there was an "oldfoggylookingmirrors.com, your one stop shop for all old-looking mirrors" somewhere out there. I was especially digging the iron fridge doors with portholes.

I started out with The Corpse Reviver No. 2 (gin, cointreau, lillet, lemon juice, pastis)

"Why's it a No. 2?" I innocently asked the lone bartender Kevin Denton, who had a passing resemblance to a brunette version of Michael Pitt. I also found out he was the friend former NRNer, now Fodor's editor, Erica Duecy's husband. New York is funny like that.

He smiled broadly and answered, "Because it came after No. 1."

I admit I walked into that one. Kevin did explain that the difference was that No. 1 was a brandy based drink. No. 2 is made with gin.

I asked him how the crowds have been since it seemed so quiet that evening. He said people had picked up on the coverage from blogs and the weekend had been pretty busy with people from "all over" dropping in.

I valiantly attempted to document the place and my drinks in the dim lighting of the place, but I knew it was a lost cause with my dinky digital camera. Nonetheless, I snapped away hoping that maybe there'd be some salvageable shots when I got home.

However, my photo taking efforts did attract the attention of one of the owners of Hotel Delmano, Zeb Stewart, who was taking some pictures of his own with a serious looking digital SLR. At least I think it was digital. Again, it was a little dark.

He explained he'd seen some photos floating around of the new bar that weren't so great so he was trying to get some better images to use for press purposes out there. (Operators, take note. Nothing wrong with being proactive about having photos available.)

It was obvious the look and feel of the place was very important to him. I asked him if everything was functional or just for design. For example, the ladder at the end of the bar and all the bottles on the high shelves.

"Nope, it's entirely functional. That's all of our liquor up there," Zeb said. He designed the place originally and was also hands-on with building it. Another owner, Michael Smart, also helped with the building and finalizing some of the design ideas. Interesting detail to consider how they managed to conjure up the old look and feel of Hotel Delmano: Michael also works with antique restoration, according to Zeb. The third partner in this venture is Alyssa Abeta.

I was curious about the all the attention to detail. In fact, I really liked the iron doors with portholes for the fridge behind the bar.

"It looks practically...steampunk." I said.

Zeb seemed amused with that assessment, but I could tell that's not what he was going for.

I tried one more time, "Also you see a lot of bars trying to emulate a sort of Prohibition style..."

He saw where I was going and headed me off at the pass by explaining the idea was to make the place "a real social club." It wasn't about serving cocktails, but more about serving a setting. That made sense. The attention to detail was meant to play a role as setting up how guests should act or expect to act in the space, so the look of an old social club or bar like one you might find in Havana gives a quiet intimate space.

Zeb said, "To me, the most important thing was that the cocktails were to be really good and that people come and talk."

Hence all the hush-hush on coverage before the place opened. Zeb said there were some small parties, mostly for locals, before the grand opening, but the point was not to have it all out in the open in order to maintain local hangout integrity.

And not to be exclusive. It's not a top-secret bar with an elaborate entrance procedure. It just happens to be a little tucked away is all. There's no door policy -- no dress codes or anything like that -- except that it's strictly first come first. Also, Zeb explained that there's a cap on how many people can be in the place at one time to keep it from getting crazy and compromising a conversation-friendly atmosphere. Those who can't make it in can leave a number where they can be contacted at once the crowd eases up. Zeb said the ideal crowd size for Hotel Delmano was around 75-80 people.

Zeb was trying explain to me how originally he wanted the tiling on the top of the refrigerators behind the bar to go down to the doors instead of the porthole doors that were now in place, when he asked if I'd seen the bathroom.

I noticed the one coming in but he shook his head and said, "No, the one in the back. We did the tiling on the door there. Let me show you."

I dumped my camera and bag on the bar hoping that through some unspoken bartender ESP Kevin would understand that I wanted him to keep an eye on it so I could follow Zeb to go look at the back bathroom. I think it's pretty safe to say I'm rarely excited to look at a bathroom stall door. I oohed and ahhed when I did see it. It was sort of like the entrance to a pressure chamber on an old submarine, but once you opened the tiled door, the inside of the bathroom stall was elegantly done with dark wood paneling that made me think of...what? The portholes in the fridge and the bathroom door, the wood-tiled bathroom...

"OK, this is going to sound really nerdy, but do you know the video game 'Bioshock'?" I asked before I could stop myself. I was letting my geek flag fly. (Explanation: Bioshock is a survival horror, first-person shooter game that received a lot of acclaim for it's well-rendered world, which showcases an alternative history underwater society that has a sort of steampunk meets Art Deco style to it.)

Zeb said he was familiar with it but mentioned that the look he was going there was more old glamor meets Titanic. I had to concede this was a better description.

I confessed, "I have to know, did you get the mirrors this way or did you make them look like this?"

They were all old mirrors, but they definitely had a little help getting into the state they were in.

"We used a secret recipe that I'm afraid I'd have to kill you if I told you," Zeb mysteriously answered, "but I will tell you that we breathed in a lot of toxic fumes to bring this look to you...we risked our health and general well-being"

The current cocktail menu at Hotel Delmano has a total of seven drinks, but like any good bar, you can order something off the list. Kevin said that menu changes would probably come once the initial buzz died down and the place settled into its new digs a bit. He said that the bartenders were definitely eager to show their stuff and there were several projects that each were working on. Kevin hinted that some pet projects in the works from the other bartenders involved ingredients like absinthe and pickled vegetables.

Food is also in the works for the near future. Especially to take more advantage of the wine list already in place.

If you want Shake Shack and don't want the lines?

Now would certainly be the time to head out there. On Monday I decided to head down there to take a picture of the Hot Vanilla to feature as our Featured Beverage of the Month. I was expected to stand in a long line in the cold since this was the first time Shake Shack was open for the winter. In a bid to make sure whether or not the place was really open, I checked the Shake Shack webcam.

There wasn't a crowd. It didn't help that it was starting to get dark and looked a bit overcast out. I saw one or two people walk past, sometimes pausing to peer in the direction of the Shack with a confused look.

"Well, that could mean anything," I thought. "Either they're confused as to why the Shake Shack is open in winter or the place is closed."

Luckily, they were open and I got to snag a Hot Vanilla. No lines! I just ambled up to the window and ordered. The Hot Vanilla comes in just one size, but I think anything larger would be overkill. I thought it was a pretty interesting winter item since it uses existing ingredients. As I was snapping away at the Hot Vanilla, several more people came up. One woman with a stroller ordered a chocolate shake saying, "I just really need one right now."

'...we continue to run with a high level of alert...'

According to Death & Co. co-owner Dave Kaplan, the report in The Villager (third item) is rehashing old news and that this is just yet another cycle of rumors that Death & Co. is on the brink of closing that's been going on since the place opened.

"We've been the subject of a witch hunt since we opened. It seems like, every two or three months, someone says that we’re in trouble again."

Kaplan said that the news item in The Villager was "something interesting to wake up to." He said he'd been on the phone about it for hours this morning, though he is quite used to it by now.

Kaplan confirmed that the liquor license had not been renewed by the New York State Liquor Authority, but Death & Co. is allowed and has been purchasing and selling alcohol under a clause in a State Procedure and Administrative Act (SAPA) letter.

Contrary to what The Villager reported, Kaplan said, "It’s my understanding and my lawyers' understanding that we have 60 days to appear for a hearing. If the S.L.A. refuses hearing us, my understanding is you would have to get a stay and go to a court of law. Throughout all of this, legally you’re allowed to stay open and allowed to serve liquor because they haven’t officially revoked our license."

He added, "We think the S.L.A. will be reasonable in this matter."

When asked about the statements attributed to S.L.A. spokesperson Bill Crowley that "the Police Department could rightfully pursue action against the establishment for the 'illegal trafficking of alcohol,'" Kaplan answered it was something that was news to him.

"There's a very good chance he knows something that we don’t...if that is, we’re unsure as to why it hasn’t been handed down to us since we're trying our very best efforts trying to abide to everything."

"We have had a rough go of it with the community board because of a few individuals, because of a long list of bureaucratic intricacies," Kaplan said.

Though the community board is no longer involved in Death & Co.'s dealings with the S.L.A., Kaplan said he can admit that a lot of the difficulties that Death & Co. are going through now are based on mistakes made as eager restaurateurs who were on a tight budget at the beginning of the process.

"The fact is that in the beginning we didn’t hire a lawyer," he explained. "It's a mistake we made that we’re still paying for."

"Though we disclosed all of the information, and didn’t hide anything, we did file everything that we needed to. Just not in the order that it should be done."

Kaplan said that "just a few weeks ago" Death & Co. settled with the S.L.A., which included a 7-day closure and civil penalty. The violations being listed in The Villager are nothing new. In the settlement packet the community board's claims were disproved and Kaplan said, "the sort of ideal way the situation's supposed to go on, the settlement wipes the slate clean."

The list of complaints about Death & Co. have been "totally ridiculous," according to Kaplan said. There were charges of evoking Nazism to noise complaints, that Kaplan said mainly comes from one neighbor.

"There's no new information in what they're saying," Kaplan said. "But if we’re going to be brought in on these claims again for revocation, that doesn’t make any sense whatsoever."

"We’re anticipating being heard before the S.L.A. again. Once again, we think the S.L.A. will be understanding as they were before and see that there’s nothing in the case that’s changed, and there's reason for them to reinstate the license. It's a long, long process going on since we opened, hopefully one day it will be resolved."

An hour or so later Kaplan called back. He said that he received confirmation from the S.L.A.'s licensing director Kerry O'Brien, and from another council member, Tom Donahue, that Death & Co. can continue to operate as is for four months and they are not running illegally without a license.

"We are fine, but we continue to run with a high level of alert," Kaplan said and that at Death & Co. "It’s always been like this for just about 12 months now. It's still up in the air, unfortunately, but we're busy every night. Business has been really good, and reviews have been great. We're putting out a product that people like and want...We operate a very tight ship, a very quiet ship and we operate very lawfully."

Previously: "Death & Co.; dead or alive?"

Death & Co.; dead or alive?

UPDATE: Dave Kaplan called to confirm that the statements from Bill Crowley as quoted in The Villager are not the case. New entry to come on Dave's take on the situation. Click here

Imagine my surprise when I came in this morning and read a headline on Eater's Listage for today that said "Final Nail in the Coffin for Death & Co.?"

Considering I was planning on making a visit sometime next week, that I was planning on mentioning them in a story, and that the Death & Co. death rumor count is now reaching Abe Vigoda level, this was definitely something to follow up on. I quickly called up Joaquin Simo, but got directed to voice mail. "Oh no!" I thought to myself, my bad habit of thinking the worst of situations bubbling quickly to the surface.

Luckily, Joaquin called me back shortly before real panic set in.

I wasn't sure how to broach the subject. How do you tactfully ask someone if the business they're working for is still open? I decided to go with the combined cautiously nonchalant bandage rip-off approach, "Soooo...are you guys open?"

"Yea, we're open," he answered.

"Then what's this rumor about?" I asked.

Joaquin said it the original liquor license had expired in March, and currently what was happening with renewing the license was that it was a lot of bureaucracy is what it was, but the bar's status hasn't changed. It was just the same old same old going around.

"Hmm," I said. "Well, so you guys are still open and running and are fine for now?"

Joaquin answered, "As far as I know and as far as what our lawyers have said..."

In The Villager's "Scoopy's Notebook" (third item) writeup of what was going on there was the mention of an account from a regular patron who said that on Friday the bar shut down "early." Even with the quotes, it almost makes it sound like the place closed at an odd time, but then Joaquin reminded me of what he told me a little while back. That the place was now running on an abbreviated schedule of 6 pm to midnight.

"So, you are open?" I asked one more time.

"Six to midnight everyday."

I personally haven't talked with anybody from the S.L.A. yet, so who knows what the future holds. Pretty much, it sounds like the situation is up to what the S.L.A. wants to do next, but for the most part Death & Co. seems determined to carry on. The conversation didn't clear up anything about what was going to happen, but just so everyone knows, Death & Co. is still open (for now), just for a shorter amount of time.

I'm keeping an eye on the situation...

'What do I have to do to get a drink around here?'

Jan. 9

I wish I could say I sampled all the cocktail delights that the opening of Haru's Wall Street location offered, but on the night of Jan. 9, the place was packed and getting to the bar almost required inhuman strength and perseverance. At opening parties that provide drinks for guests, that's really not surprising though. In fact, have an open bar period and really, you're just asking for a chaotic siege scene that rivals The Battle of Hornburg in "The Two Towers."

I was in attendance with two coworkers. Alexis Henry who helps slaps together our pages over at the desk, making NRN look pretty every week, and Eryka Hughes from production. We had made a beeline for the sushi, but then tried to wind our way back to the bar. After shuffling a bit just around the periphery of the bar, one of the people working the event looked to me and said, "There's another bar upstairs, it's probably less crowded."

Just a few moments ago in the upstairs section of the place, "Mr. Benihana" Rocky Aoki himself had made a little speech about the opening of the new location, so threading our way up to the second level became difficult all of the sudden like a flash flood. I was carried past past Mr. Aoki in the deluge. I was tempted to swim across the current of people to introduce myself, but all I could think of to say to him was, "Congratulations on the new location! Awesome party!!" then give him a huge thumbs up. So I decided to scratch that idea.

The music in the place was pumping. You could hear it even before you got into the place. As soon as I saw the DJ booth I wondered if Mr. Aoki had roped Steve into spinning for the evening, but then noticed that this was not the case. I paused to assess the crowd. It was mainly Wall Street-looking types. There was the random sprinkle of an out-of-place looking hipster. I couldn't help myself as I imagined what would've happened if Steve Aoki did spin at this event. I imagined a Jets vs. Sharks meets the rumble at the "House of Blue Leaves" in "Kill Bill" type of scenario. Except with suits and the hipsters. It would've been pretty glorious. And ridiculous. Two great tastes that taste great together.

The upstairs bar was strictly sake and beer. I got a glass of Kaori, and sipped tentatively. I wasn't very familiar with sake, so I made note of the sweet sake with all intent of looking it up again. I noticed a figure next to me leaning in, writing down the name of the sake into a little notebook.

"Hm, yea, I should probably pull out my notebook as well," I thought before noticing that the short pixie haircut looked pretty familiar. I took a step back to figure out who it was when the figure looked up.

"Akiko!" I tried to shout at Akiko Katayama over the music.

"Hi!" she shouted back.

I've run into Akiko at events before and she was one of the first people I recognized at an event when I first started working at NRN thanks to all the Iron Chef: America I had watched. We got to talking about sake and she pointed out how they were also being served in a cedar box. I'd gotten mine in a glass cup, so she let me take a look at the cedar box and note how it smelled like...cedar. I made a little mental "hmm," as I contemplated if having an aromatic vessel is something that'd only work for sake. She mentioned how she was interested in writing about cocktails now and we discussed the drink menu at Tailor. She'd tried the smoked coke and bourbon. I was jealous. Note to self: Head to Tailor either at the end of this week or the beginning of the next.

I tried drier sake that packed an odd one-two punch of being dry yet, hitting the back of your tongue with sweetness.

We ventured back to the downstairs bar since I knew I wasn't leaving until I tried at least one cocktail. We managed to squirm our way up to the bar. I noted that it seemed like the full bar menu was available. It wasn't one of those, red, white or a signature cocktail type of shindigs. The only hitch to this being that there weren't any menus anywhere. We spotted a bright, blue drink and asked the sippers what it was. "Komodo Dragon," they answered.

It was a drink made with vanilla vodka, coconut rum, pineapple juice and blue curacao. It gave off a sweet scent that attracted a lot of attention, and people asked us what the drink was as we walked past. Eryka noted that it smelled overwhelmingly like a dessert, yet wasn't as sweet as you'd expect it to be.

The opening party was supposed to go until 9. The crowd had dwindled significantly, but at 9:30, the bar was still pouring and the food still being practically forced upon guests, and the music continued to play as scattered groups here and there busted out some moves. Though the upstairs bar was now closed and some people were walking about starting to tidy up the place. Some of the servers who had been dressed up as geisha earlier in the evening were now walking around without their wigs. One server's face showing relief because her tight blonde chignon was finally free from the frizzy black bouffant wig.

I looked around and declared. "Yea, I think we should start heading out now."

Adventures in secret dining

As I cautiously rang the bell at a building I'd never been to I was at the height of my paranoia. On the way over I fretted over whether or not I had the correct address and I wasn't really sure who to contact if I did write down the wrong address...what if I was walking into some insane kidnapping scheme? All this for a dinner and cocktail pairing?

I had been receiving correspondences from Bite Club for a while, but a recent notice said that there would be a dinner paired with cocktails by Joaquin Simo of Death & Co. made it me decide, "Well, maybe it's time I attended one of these secret dining club dinners."

When I entered the apartment that had been temporarily turned into a small dining area I was instantly struck by apartment envy. It seems to be a condition of New York living. It wasn't palatial like a Trump condo, it was just normal-sized. Seriously, that's all I ask for in an apartment. Normal-sized. Though I guess that's pretty subjective...

I managed to get over the apartment envy long enough to overhear a woman explain that she was with Italian Marie Claire and an older gentleman with her snapped away on his professional-looking camera. To be honest half of me was pretty scared about the possibility of being interviewed as an attendee. I wasn't sure what protocol was in giving statements since I was there as a reporter in some sense and I didn't want to commit some weird imagined faux pas in my head. However, when she ignored me to talk with other guests, what ego I had did feel a bit wounded. I was hoping I looked important or cool enough to talk to whether or not it was true.

As I scanned the room I spotted what I thought was a familiar face, but thanks to my ineptitude at recognizing faces and deteriorating eyesight it took me a while for me to recognize that it was my colleague Elizabeth Licata who was with her husband Nick Vogt. The two had been married since June and, may I for a moment drop all reporter pretense to say they totally made a cute and well-dressed couple? Seriously? Totally cute. But back to being professional...

It was a total coincidence to run into them. I hadn't discussed about attending this particular dinner and asked them if they were regulars to this club. Elizabeth answered that it was their first time attending and was sort of a Christmas gift to each other, which I thought was a great gift idea.

As I scanned the menu I saw that the five course meal featured marrow, lobster, sweetbreads, foie gras and chocolate. I was very curious as to what drinks would be matched with these food items. I dove head first into the pairings and tried to taste as much as possible each of the dishes and cocktails, but to be honest, five courses with five drinks (not counting the Blood Smoke and Sand Joaquin served before dinner) began taking a toll on me.

I guess I really should have tried approaching it more from a "tasting" standpoint, yet stubbornly I tried to be pretty good about drinking most of the drinks at the beginning. Waste not, want not as they say, but towards the end I was pretty full from the food and the drink. I could say a lot about what I tasted. For example, when I drank the Blood Smoke and Sand, the first thing to hit me was how smoky it tasted. I commented to Elizabeth about whether or not there was some liquid smoke in the drink because it was so pronounced, but later I was to find out that it was the extra peaty and smoky scotch that was used that was packing that punch. I found the choice of pairing the Summer Shack with the lobster dish interesting because of the drink's strong lemon/citrus aroma. It was pretty logical to me since it seemed like a drink that could play with the seafood flavor of the lobster, while playing in contrast with the creaminess of the dish and the rich and subtle black truffle pastry accompanying the cream of lobster. This was good and all, but I wanted to hear about the drinks from the source.

After the dinner, the place began to clear out and it started to look more and more like an apartment again. People were clearing up in the kitchen, and diners were grabbing their coats and heading out, thanking for the meal. I found Joaquin in the kitchen with a drink in his hand and leaning next to a fridge. He said good bye and thanked the dinner guests who complimented him as they filed out. It felt more like the end of a holiday party at a friends house than an intense study in complex cocktails served with an elaborate food menu. I felt like I was having a conversation with a friend of a friend I had been introduced to when I cornered Joaquin.

Curiosity got the best of me and I told Joaquin that I noticed him shaking the drinks in an interesting way.

"Were you doing a hard shake?" I asked. He replied that the odd shaking was more a result of him having to use chipped ice that I saw him scoop from a cooler stationed next to the long table he had set up as his station.

I also asked about the demerara syrup that was listed for some of the drinks. I confirmed with Joaquin that it was simple syrup made with demerara sugar. An option he chose to give the drinks a richer flavor to round things out.

We made small chit-chat about cocktails and how the cocktail scene can be a close-knit one. I also prodded a bit about the current state of affairs with Death & Co. and the State Liquor Authority. There had been closings related to noise complaints in 2007. In short, it's complicated and an ongoing issue, but the place is open again and trying its best to be squeaky clean in an attempt to show that they are good citizens, and if possible, avoid further attention from the SLA. It's running under the schedule of a previous liquor license, so the place is open from 6pm to midnight. There were more questions about how he worked out the pairings, but I didn't want to be rude about taking up too much of his time since it looked like there was still a lot of cleaning up to do. I asked him if I could follow up by phone. I was relieved that he obliged me by letting me call him up on Wednesday even though he was spending time with family.

Joaquin said that he got the menu from Bite Club a week or week and half ahead of time. The thing that I kept wondering about was how one would go about doing cocktail pairings. Cocktail in and of themselves seem like a food item with their own recipes of ingredients.

"There’s a couple a different approaches. One is to try mimic the flavors that are in the food. So if the food's heavy and rich, I might go with something heavy and rich. Or I might do the opposite. Both can work," Joaquin said.

"For the most part, I was trying to reference the flavor that I found or at least a certain sense of what the dish was about."

The first course of bone marrow was paired with a cocktail called the Loosey Goosey that had a foie-gras infused bourbon for providing a mouth feel of richness in the mouth.

When I saw it on the menu that night I instantly thought of chunks of foie gras sitting in bourbon, and that definitely did not seem right.

"It uses a technique called fat washing," Jaoquin explained, dispelling the disturbing and unappetizing image I had of the foie gras floating in jars like some kind of specimen. In the fat washing technique, the fat is rendered from the foie gras and allowed steep with the bourbon at room temperature. Afterwards, it's blast chilled and then strained through a series of sieves and filters. "You’re not going to get a greasy mouth feel."

Jaoquin explained he wanted something big to go with the bone marrow and a week before the dinner had the good luck of sampling some of the infused bourbon at PDT, where it was created by Don Lee. He knew instantly he needed some of it for the dinner.

And speaking of foie gras, the particular food item made another appearance later on in the dinner, but was paired with Joaquin's Black Market Brandy. The dish had pear poached with mulling spice, ginger snap, cacao nibs and star anise. The cocktail echoed some of these flavors with the spiced tea used to infuse the sweet vermouth, and also with the chocolate bitters and fruitiness found in the brandy.

"It’s always kind of a crap shoot," Joaquin said about trying to pair cocktails with food, but added, "I think they did work...they worked out very well. When they present these really complex menus it gives you a lot to work with...you play with one lesser flavor that’s found in the dish and accentuate it in the glass so people can recognize it."

Usually a spirit or new liqueur with an interesting flavor inspires Joaquin to come up with new drinks.

"When there's a really lovely flavor, I think 'Wow what could I do with this?'"

For example with a new rum he might try it out with a classic rum drink to see how it behaves. A technique he uses often, playing with proportions of classic drinks to see what else can come out of it.

I made a promise to try and stop by in the new year since around 30 new drinks were added to the menu.

"...30??" I asked again to make sure I heard right.

"It's always a challenge when we put out a new menu," Joaquin said. "Then you work a couple of shifts and get the hang of it."

A self-professed foodie, Joaquin said about dinner pairings, "It’s fun. One of the drinks on the list came from one of the first dinner pairings...it's always nice to have impetus with the food where you’re automatically getting a base flavor profile."

Dec. 22 Bite Club Dinner

Loose Goosey
Foie gras-infused Bourbon Rittenhouse Rye, Carpano Antica, dry Sherry, Champagne, Demerara syrup, Orange bitters, orange twist
Marrow
parsley shallot salad, sweet garlic jam, toast points

Summer Shack
Plymouth Gin, Lillet Blanc, Sauvignon Blanc, St. Germain, Orange Bitters, Lemon twist
Lobster
cream of lobster, black truffle pastry

Solera Sidecar
Courvoisier Cognac, Ooroso sherry, Lazzaroni Amaretto, fresh lemon juice
Sweetbreads
JG raisin caper emulsion, cauliflower puree

Black Market Brandy
Courvoisier Cognac, Laird's bonded Applejack, Market Spice tea-infused Sweet Vermouth, Angostura bitters, Bittermens chocolate bitters
Foie Gras
Muling spice poached pear, ginger snap, cacao nibs, star anise caramel

New york Flip
Sazerac 6 year rye, Tawny Port, Demerara syrup, Heavy Cream, egg yolk, freshly grated nutmeg
Chocolate
Cayenne infused Neuhaus 85% chocolate, frosted habanero pepper

News of a new guild

While a lot of people still at home and quite probably recovering from the holiday revelries, some of us showed up at the office to work this Wednesday morning.

In acknowledgment that the holidays started around Wednesday and will last until New Year's for a lot of people, here is a bit of news for those who might have missed it, considering the fact that it came out right before the holidays.

The Oregon Bartender's Guild made an official announcement about its existence last week. I got the announcement on Friday via email newsletter from the TearDrop Lounge out in Portland, Ore. The announcement stated:

"A small group of us, each dedicated to the craft of the cocktail, have established a community of collaboration, both amongst ourselves & local distillers, brewers & winemakers. Our primary goals are elevating the standards of cocktail production in our industry, as well as public outreach through educational seminars & tastings."

I talked to Daniel Shoemaker, co-owner of the TearDrop Lounge and vice president of the new guild, who said that the guild had been in the works for months, and while the group wanted everything to be finalized and set, they also wanted to get the word out prior to Christmas so that people interested in the first of the Guild's seminars could get reservations. The seminar, which is a tasting hosted by several bartenders with information such as history and technique, is scheduled for January 20.

Daniel said the idea for the guild occurred several months ago when the TearDrop Lounge first opened to the public. Several of Portland's top bartenders were in attendance and it was agreed that a guild would be in the best interest not just as a means for collaboration of ideas and techniques, but also to gain better buying power for special products.

"We're really like an old crafts mens' guild. We're trying to elevate awareness in the community and increase knowledge on our end," Daniel explained. The group is looking to help inform bartenders, educate the public and reach out to a new and upcoming next generation of cocktail production.

While the guild is open to the public, it is organized in a tier system. For example, tiers can be divided up between those who are bartenders and are committed to the craft, restaurant owners, local distillers, as well as members of the general community who are "friends of the guild."

For more information about the guild or to find out more about the seminar, email the guild at info@oregonbarguild.org.