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Fri05292020

Last updateMon, 20 Apr 2020 1pm

One advantage of living where I do is that I have access to a bartender.

Actually, our household has two (very bored) bartenders: Myself and longtime Coachella Valley barman Neil Goetz, the head bartender at Blackbook in Palm Springs. We’re resisting the urge to do what most barmen do in their downtime—it’s funny how little I feel like drinking now that I am not behind the bar—so we decided to do some research, and record some videos on basic cocktail making and such. I also sat down with Neil to talk about some of the things we researched and some random subjects as well.

If anyone wants to see the videos or hear the entire half-hour interview, where we go way off topic and tell some off-color stories, visit crypticcocktails.com.

KC: Let’s start with the martini. What are your thoughts on the martini?

NG: Still one of the best drinks ever—simple, two ingredients, and when made the right way, 2-to-1 (gin to vermouth), it goes down like nothing.

KC: In our research, we found that dry vermouth wasn’t really around until the end of the 19th century, making it a relatively new drink compared to, say, the Manhattan.

NG: Unfortunately, now we’re in that world now where most of the world thinks a martini is shaken vodka.

KC: I still have people coming in, asking, “What kind of martinis do you have?”

NG: In a true restaurant environment, I am basically OK with that. If you have three goofy drinks served up (called martinis), so be it. A properly made cosmo …

KC: Yeah, or a lemon drop; those drinks are basically daisies. (More on daisies later.) But back to proper martinis. I like a dry martini, with a 5-to-1 gin-to-vermouth ratio, at home.

NG: With a lot of gins, I would actually prefer a nice gin on the rocks with a lemon twist. I’m that guy, I guess. I like a super-light, citrus-forward gin on the rocks with a lemon twist.

KC: Let’s move onto Manhattans.

NG: Still probably the best cocktail ever. Virtually every whiskey drink is kind of derived from that. Let me rephrase that: The whiskey drinks that are popular today, they’re all just derivatives.

KC: Whiskey, fortified wine and a bitter component. The first person who added citrus to a whiskey cocktail must have felt like he discovered the zero—like, “Why hasn’t anybody thought of this before?!” People must have resisted at first.

NG: The best variation—I like to call it a Manhattan on steroids—is the Vieux Carré.

  • 1 ounce of rye or bourbon
  • 1 ounce of cognac
  • 1 ounce of sweet vermouth
  • 2 dashes each of Angostura and Peychaud’s bitters

Stir; serve on the rocks; top with a half-ounce of Benedictine.

KC: I feel like that’s one of those “throw everything in but the kitchen sink” cocktails.

NG: It’s a Manhattan, with “extra.” It’s a coolish weather drink in my brain. The Benedictine gives it that Christmas-y vibe.

KC: We also looked into the history of the margarita—how, despite all of the legends behind the naming of the drink, it’s a daisy, and was probably just named that, but in Spanish; once the tequila went in—voilá, “margarita.” The daisy template:

  • 1 part spirit
  • 1/2 part triple sec
  • 1/2 part lemon (or lime) juice

Shaken, served up (or sometimes tall with soda). A little simple syrup helps; it can be made with almost any spirit.

NG: I subscribe to that, too. The simple answer is usually the right one. I’m sure you’ve done it; I know I’ve done it: A girl comes in, usually a girl, sometimes a guy. You made them something that’s basically a margarita with a little something different in it. They’re like, “Oh my gosh, this is amazing. What do you call this?” And you say, “What’s your name?” And you name it after them.

KC: Oh god, you’re playing to the cheap seats! Yes, I am guilty of doing that once or twice, back in the day. That’s better than when they ask me what the drink is called, and I don’t have a name for it, and they tell me I should call it “The Kevin.” First of all, I would never name a drink after myself; secondly, “The Kevin?” What is it? A boring, suburban white guy? Besides, my drink is an over-proof daiquiri or a boilermaker.

NG: If you can find rum out here. I went looking for a decent clear rum at four different places the other day, and the “best” they had was (redacted) silver. I can’t believe I said that was “the best” out loud.

KC: Yeah, I pretty much get one if I see good rum and know the bar has fresh juice. It’s a shame, with all the Tiki and Tiki history in this town, there isn’t more rum available retail here. Let’s change the subject before we go down the tiki hole, though: How about a light-hearted question. Favorite bar snack?

NG: For sure: Pickled eggs. There is nothing better to see behind a bar than that big old jar of pickled eggs floating around in it. It’s perfection.

KC: Agreed. Anything pickled, even a pepperoncini. I am not a big Bloody Mary guy, but if they load it up with assorted pickles, I am in.

NG: One of my biggest pet peeves is someone who comes in and orders a Bloody Mary or a chavela at 9 p.m. It’s like, buddy, go (expletive) yourself.

KC: A lot of them are probably Canadian. They drink Bloody Caesars all night. But it’s cold up there, so maybe the salt keeps the blood from freezing or something.

NG: When I worked at the club at Fantasy Springs, people used to drink five or six chavelas in a row. It’s like, switch to a Bud Light or something; you’re dancing.

(At this point, the conversation spiraled off topic, so we’ll leave it here for now. Stay safe, everyone, and please don’t drink yourselves through this mess! If two bar-lifers can practice moderation and find some constructive things to do, you can too!)

Kevin Carlow can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..

Published in Cocktails

This month has been a whirlwind, of sorts—as I suppose it is for everyone.

Friends and family in town … work … the disappearing and reappearing illnesses—December is tough. Since it’s not going to get any easier as it winds up, I figured I would focus on the much-loved and oft-maligned corner of cocktail culture: the breakfast tipple!

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I don’t care for Bloody Marys. This wasn’t always the case, but somewhere along the line, I started finding them to be too aggressively savory for morning consumption. Most of them are so shoddily constructed that they aren’t fit for consumption at all; a glass of congealed horseradish and tomato soup just isn’t what I want when I have a hangover. And don’t get me started on most of the commercial mixes out there!

But when friendship calls, I answer, and I had a very hungover houseguest the other day who happens to love Bloody Marys. So we jumped in my car and headed out to Sloan’s in Indio, the home of the “Frankenmary.”

As the bartender put her gloves on and proceeded to assemble the veritable appetizer sampler precariously sitting on top of 32 ounces of my nemesis—the entire bar watching and glancing occasionally at the two gluttons in the corner who ordered it—I started second-guessing the whole idea. Then the two monsters arrived at the table in the hands of the smiling and proud bartender. Imagine me, local cocktail snob and curmudgeon, faced with this tower of excess.

The beverage itself was too much, a giant flagon of breakfast booze. Sticking out at all angles was a collection of various bar favorites: chicken wings, cocktail shrimp, mozzarella sticks, bacon, a slider, various cocktail-tray garnishes … and a piece of asparagus. You gotta eat your veggies!

So, I hate this, with every atom of my being, right? Actually … I thought it was fun. Sometimes you have to put your inner critic aside and embrace your inner Guy Fieri.

Why is all the food hanging off the drink? Isn’t this just the same as getting three Bloodys and an appetizer sampler on a plate, like a (somewhat) normal person? Answers: I have no idea, and basically, yes. But there was something so classically Americana about the whole thing. It doesn’t make any sense, but we create something like this because we can, dammit! If a screaming eagle had driven by in a monster truck painted red, white and blue, I wouldn’t have been surprised. It felt silly, and excessive, and just plain fun. Any time you can bring an element of fun to fixing a hangover, or just to our current milieu in general, I am all for it.

Do you prefer a little less drama with your restoratives? Well, there are plenty of other options out there, but you might have to make them at home, as I haven’t seen many on local menus. So … let’s start with the Red Snapper.

Originally from the Hotel Regis in New York in the 1930s, the Red Snapper was more or less a plain old Bloody Mary with a different name; it seemed some of the guests found the name more palatable. These days, if you order a Red Snapper, you’re going to get a Bloody Mary with gin instead of vodka … or you’ll get a strange look. This might be a time when you get to educate your bartender (gently, please), as I have found this baby to be a little obscure.

Less obscure is our Canadian neighbors’ contribution to the field, the Bloody Caesar. The drink, widely considered the national drink of Canada, it is generally considered to have been created in 1969 in Calgary, Alberta, by Walter Chell, for the opening of an Italian restaurant. Having tended bar in two places incredibly popular with Canadian tourists—Palm Springs and Boston—I have seen the general confusion caused by the similarities and differences in the drinks.

The Caesar, although there are many variations, is defined by the Clamato and vodka that make up its base. Worcestershire sauce and hot sauce are also included—but leave out the horseradish, please! Canadians enjoy drinking this one anytime and anywhere—morning, night, at the beach, whenever. We in the States consider ordering a Bloody after 3 p.m. a faux pas, leading to a lot of dirty looks from bartenders when a savory tomato-juice drink is ordered in a busy nightclub. Canadians tend to think the Caesar is a superior drink, and they just might be right—but if you are going to drink one at night, it might be best to do it at home. Your bartender (and the rest of the bar) will judge, and hard.

Another fun variation on the Bloody is the Bull Shot. If tomato juice isn’t savory enough for you, the Bull Shot replaces the tomato juice with beef broth! This one became the celebrity brunch drink of the ’60s and ’70s, only to fall off the map in the ’80s. Years ago, I came across an original menu from a restaurant in Boston where I was working, from when it was a ’70s local celebrity hangout. I was intrigued to see they had not only a Bull Shot prominently on the menu, but also a chicken-broth variation, and a mix of the two! I would love to see this one come back, with the bone-broth trend still chugging along. If any bartenders working at a daytime spot get cracking on it, I will come check it out! Basically, it has the same recipe as a traditional Bloody: Worcestershire sauce, hot sauce, celery salt, black pepper and a little lemon perhaps; just substitute the broth for the tomato juice. It’s not advisable for those with hypertension.

The Bloody Bull is mostly forgotten, but is perhaps the king of this family of drinks. It traces its origins to New Orleans, as do so many cocktails, and specifically to Brennan’s. As with most cocktails, the history is murky, but not as murky as this beauty actually is. Basically, take a traditional Bloody Mary, and a substitute a little of the tomato juice for a slug of good, rich beef broth. It’s all in the proportions, but an ounce or so should do it. This is a drink that should make everyone but the vegetarians happy, featuring the nose-opening pungent-ness for the Bloody fans, and the extra-savory brothiness for the Caesar adherents.

Now, about those garnishes! While I don’t suggest using a whole appetizer plate on skewers, pickled vegetables are always nice; I prefer green beans or asparagus. The traditional celery adds a nice aromatic as you crunch; olives are OK, too, but celery, in my opinion, adds more to the drink. If you are using bacon (or a hot wing!), make sure you skewer it over the drink; nobody wants wet bacon or greasy cocktails. My companion on the Frankenmary expedition was famous for adding a freshly shucked cherrystone clam to make an ersatz Caesar that we derided as “The Yucky Jeff,” but it sold like crazy, so it seems the sky’s the limit with garnishes. I am also fond of the fizzy beer sidecar popular in Wisconsin; a little beer sip here and there does wonders to break up the spice and salt.

New Year’s Day is nearly upon us … so however you decide to recover, garnish with abandon.

Kevin Carlow is a bartender at Truss and Twine, and can be reached via email at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..

Published in Cocktails