The 25 Douchiest Bars in Los Angeles

General Instructions:

Completely dissolve the sugar into the juice.  A mixing pitcher can be very useful.  Do a search for “mixing pitcher.”  I like the Norpro Turbo mixing pitcher.  Once the sugar is dissolved, add the water and mix or stir thoroughly.  Pour the ade into a sealable bottle, or multiple sealable bottles as needed.  Glass bottles are best since they are non-reactive and will better keep the flavor the way you made it.  If you have used freshly-pressed juice and want a pulp-free ade, strain it through a fine mesh strainer as you pour it into the bottle(s).  Seal the bottle(s) and store in the refrigerator for up to a week. To make a so-called ranch-hand’s version of any of these ades, simply double the amount of water.

Cranberry-ade

4 parts [for example: 2 cups (16 fl-oz./480 ml.)] — cranberry juice (pure)

1 part [for example: ½ cup (8 tbsp./120 ml.)] — granulated cane sugar

6 parts [for example: 3 cups (24 fl-oz./720 ml.)] — good drinking water

Note: this is like commercially-produced cranberry-ade that is sold as “Cranberry Juice Cocktail.”

Lemon-ade

2 parts [for example: 2 cups (16 fl-oz./480 ml.)] — Eureka lemon juice (freshly-pressed)

1 part [for example: 1 cup (16 tbsp./240 ml.)] — granulated cane sugar

3 parts [for example: 3 cups (24 fl-oz./720 ml.)] — good drinking water

Elderflower Lemon-ade

6 parts [for example: 2 cups (16 fl-oz./480 ml.)] — Eureka lemon juice (freshly-pressed)

4 parts [for example: 1-⅓ cups (320 ml.)] — elderflower syrup*

9 parts [for example: 3 cups (24 fl-oz./720 ml.)] — good drinking water

*Saft Fläder elderflower drink concentrate from Ikea does nicely

Lime-ade

6 parts [for example: 2 cups (16 fl-oz./480 ml.)] — lime juice* (freshly-pressed)

4 parts [for example: 1-⅓ cups (32 dsp./320 ml.)] — granulated cane sugar

9 parts [for example: 3 cups (24 fl-oz./720 ml.)] — good drinking water

*Key or Persian

Orange-ade

8 parts [for example: 2 cups (16 fl-oz./480 ml.)] — orange juice* (freshly-pressed)

1 part [for example: ¼ cup (4 tbsp./60 ml.)] — granulated cane sugar

12 parts [for example: 3 cups (24 fl-oz./720 ml.)] — good drinking water

*Valencia or navel

Orgeat Orange-ade

4 parts [for example: 2 cups (16 fl-oz./480 ml.)] – orange juice* (freshly-pressed)

1 part [for example: ½ cup (8 tbsp./120 ml.)] — orgeat syrup

6 parts [for example: 3 cups (24 fl-oz./720 ml.)] — good drinking water

*Valencia or navel

Firstly, this is not a scholarly book.  The author tends to assert that something happened or changed at around some year, and then goes on without giving any supporting documentation or providing any footnotes.

Secondly, true cocktails (bittered slings) should be the type of drink that is most central to any serious work on bitters that involves mixed drinks.  It seems the author may be aware of what a true cocktail is, but does not explain why bitters are so important to the true cocktail.  In a drink where the liquor is the star of the show, un-occluded by juices or sodas, the bitters will remove most of the sensation of the fumatic harshness of alcohol.

Thirdly, the author divides bitters into those that are “aromatic” and those that are “potable.”  Drink books of yore reveal no consensus on the names of the two types of bitters, so the author and everyone else today are using whatever terms that they like.  I would say that petite bitters are also potable, especially when mixed into drinks.  I call the two types of bitters ‘petite bitters’ and ‘grand bitters.’  Either way, the main difference is that petite bitters should never be sweetened by the manufacturer, while grand bitters (sold in larger bottles) are almost always sweetened by the manufacturer and are thusly also appropriate for unmixed use.  This important point is not mentioned by the author.

Fourthly, the author gives a number of recipes for making bitters that include relatively low-proof spirits.  Traditionally, bitters were made by combining aromatic macerations with aromatic infusions.  The maceration would be accomplished by placing aromatic material in and over-proof spirit of about 190 proof or higher.  The higher proof the spirit, the better it macerates out alcohol-soluble compounds from the aromatic material.  A separate treatment would be set up by placing aromatic material (usually the same as used in the maceration) in pure water infuse into it the water soluble compounds from the aromatic material.  Since some aromatic compounds are best extracted by maceration in highly over-proof spirits while others are best extracted by infusion in pure water, traditional bitters are a combination of both.  So, the final steps in making bitters must include the combination of a maceration and an infusion.  This almost-perfectly-whole extraction and preservation or aromatic material is what the word ‘bitters’ should require.  Unfortunately, many makers today use shortcuts, or maceration in vodka or whiskey.  Such methods are simpler, but produce so-called bitters that are not fully functional at removing the sensation of the harshness of ethanol in true cocktails.  I suppose that shouldn’t be surprising, since the ‘call-em-all-cocktails’ crowd seems to believe that petite bitters are nothing more than aromatic flavoring additives.

But even the above-mentioned recipes create nowhere near as poor a product as any so-called bitters by Fee Brothers.  That company makes nothing that tradition would call bitters.  Look at the label – they use no alcohol at all, and hence no maceration.  Instead they suspend flavorings in glycerine.  This should be no surprise – remember their motto, “don’t squeeze, use Fee’s.”  Do you really want glycerine-based so-called bitters from a company that tells you that it’s better to use their sour mix than to squeeze lemon juice?  Well, the author of “Bitters” apparently does.  He recommends Fee Brothers bitters with seeming enthusiasm.  A bottle of Fee Brothers bitters is even shown on the cover of the book with the word “glycerine” clearly visible in the ingredients listing.  I suppose this should be no surprise since the next bottle in the photograph is Regan’s orange bitters.  Just taste test Regan’s orange bitters versus Angostura orange bitters.  Enough said.

I won’t bother going into the mixed drink recipes.  I will just note that this book, like all others by the modern “call-em-all-cocktails” crowd, has no sense of a basic portion of liquor in any given drink, and is just as de-jiggered as books from the worst days of American bar books.  Better, more-properly-jiggered, versions of almost all of the drinks the author presents can be found in the books they were originally published in.  Imagine that.

So, what do I recommend?  If you know nothing at all about bitters, or if you just want a coffee table book to assert your membership in the “hipster-bartenders-agog-over-bitters” club, go ahead and buy it (right after you put some more wax on your handlebar mustache and send out your vest and Ascot tie to be laundered).  Otherwise, save your money.

Now I can resume making the Pimm’s No.1 Cup as it should be….

See the recipe below from my book.  The recipe image may be enlarged by clicking it.  Contact me if you wish to learn how you, too, may order some Stone’s Green Ginger.  Enjoy!

The book, currently in two volumes (on on drinks and the other on liquor), is now available at:

I know more than one bartender that would probably refuse (or wish they could refuse) any request for a drink that they feel is beneath them to make.  I understand this feeling, and have felt it at times when taking requests for drinks that I thought were undeserving of my time and effort.  But then again, there was that day in culinary school…

I used to stay up late to watch the original Iron Chef show from Japan.  I’ll never forget the episode with Koji “mad” Kobayashi.  He was, apparently, a talented, innovative and highly-trained cook that refused to ever make the same dish twice.  He therefore quit the business and started driving a food delivery truck.  He continued to cook meals for his family – each one being a completely new creation.  He was a challenger on Iron Chef, and if memory serves me right, he beat iron chef Chen Kenichi.  I was impressed and told the story to my chef instructor, who said, “It sounds like he forgot that cooks cook for other people.”  I immediately understood the warning that the ego of the cook can get in the way of satisfying the guest – and that it would be a challenge for me.  The same can be true of some of the best bartenders.

With that lesson in mind, I believe that it is better to elevate a drink, and make it the best possible incarnation of itself that it can be, than to refuse to make it for fear of losing some professional preciousness.  One drink that I have heard friends say they would refuse to make for a guest is the Long Island Iced Tea.

This image is suggestive of the sort of association made when this drink is mentioned in bartending circles.  But, nevertheless, I had no doubt that the Long Island Iced Tea could be elevated.

When elevating a ‘low-brow’ drink, it can be helpful to determine which type of drink it is.  That way, the pleasing qualities for the type can be identified and utilized to make it something better than your guest expected.  The noticeable sour element in the Long Island Iced Tea makes it a punch.  That the weak element in it is carbonated, plus the fact that it is served on the rocks in individual portions, makes it a member of the Collins sub-genre of punch.  The main consequence of the soda being fancy (flavored and sweetened) is that the amount of other sweetening ingredients should be carefully considered for proper balance with the sour element.  Another point worthy of consideration when elevating is the best selection of method.  Most punches not made-and-served in bowls should be shaken.  The main difference between ‘stirring’ and ‘shaking’ is that shaking also aerates the drink considerably.  It’s true that shaking is not desired in drinks where the character of the liquor should not be ‘bruised,’ but rather left mostly-intact as the star of the drink, such as in slings (especially bittered slings – a.k.a. true cocktails).  The ingredients in true cocktails are proportioned and stirred to harmony.  But shaking (and its aeration) helps to produce the unified, balanced identity of punch (when made in individual portions as in Collinses, sours, fixes, etc.)  The ingredients in punches are proportioned and shaken to balance.

The initial issue to be resolved was the jigger.  Most Long Island Iced Teas are served with a hooker (2-1/2 fl-oz.) of total liquor – 1/2 fl-oz. each from five different bottles.  How was I to jigger (2 fl-oz.) the total liquor so that the best punch proportions could be used between sour, sweet, strong and weak – and have the drink be served in the same-sized tumbler as any other Collins?

The vodka found in typical versions of the drink is there just for its alcoholic content.  It does nothing for the flavor.  Another liquor, the so-called “triple sec,” is usually a low-proof, poor imitation of proper triple-sec Curaçao liqueur.   Proper triple-sec (“triple-dry”) Curaçao liqueur should be a liqueur of a secondary spirit of macerated orange peel.  I don’t know of any good one bottled at below 70 proof (35% a.b.v.).  Cointreau is not the only high-quality triple-sec Curaçao liqueur, by the way.  I chose to use Luxardo Triplum.  It’s very acceptible - and at 78 proof, it mostly obviates the need for the flavorless vodka in the drink.

In order to preserve the high-alcohol identity of the Long Island Iced Tea, I decided to use an overproof traditional (pot-distilled character) rum instead of an 80 proof light rum (remember that light rum is not necessarily light in color – rather in being so highly distilled that it is light in flavor, even if barreled until brown).  Wray & Nephew White Overproof is the right spirit for the job.  Being traditional rum, it provides a lot more flavor, and being 126 proof, it more than makes up for scaling to the jigger from the hooker.  I also used solid quality Tequila mezcal and dry gin to finish the jigger out, both being traditional ingredients in this drink.

For the sour element, I used the freshly-pressed juice of the Eureka lemon.  For the little bit of additional sweetness needed (beyond that of the liqueur and the fancy soda), I used superfine sugar.  For the cola-flavored soda (cola nut is one of the ingredients), I used Coca-Cola from Mexico (to avoid the inferior flavor of high-fructose corn sweetener).  I normally strain all non-carbonated ingredients of a Collins onto the proper amount of soda water, already in the Collins tumbler with the ice.  That is to allow the heavier rest-of-the-drink to mix itself with the soda.  In the case of the Long Island Iced Tea, the soda is fancy and sweetened, which makes it actually heavier than the rest of the drink.  This means that it should be added at the end, allowing gravity to perform the final mixing.  Whether plain soda or fancy soda is used, understanding the jigger as the basic amount of total liquor in the drink, along with the size of your service ice, will inform you in selecting glassware of the appropriate capacity – eliminating the haphazard “top up with” approach still found in too many bars.

Here is the result.  Try it.  I think you will find, that when elevated, there is nothing wrong with, or below a bartender’s pride about, the Long Island Iced Tea Collins.

(click the image to enlarge it and better read the recipe)

Click on any of the images below to enlarge them, which should make reading the recipe much easier.

First is a fix that seemed obvious to me, but apparently had not been made before:

Here is the modern era’s only somewhat-popular true milk punch (being both soured and dairied).  It is always a favorite, and you might call it the Ramos Gin Fizz:

A lion is a sour that is made fancy by being modified by both liqueur and nectar or flavored syrup.  This lion might not be the king of the jungle, but it pleased everyone present:

Now for the original Mai Tai Fix (at least as original as anyone can prove):

Now I must digress into one of my old war cries…  Most drinks are not cocktails – according to the original meaning of drink-associated variation of the word.  When one understands what the word cocktail really means and that the thing it means really exists, it can get old to hear the word thrown around so loosely (even when no pretense is detectable)…

I instructed the student to make the original Last Word Daisy (even though the source called it a cocktail in 1951, it is a liqueuredly-fancy sour and thus a daisy – to call any drink a cocktail in 1921, 1931 or 1951 was only the same thing as calling any drink a martini in 2001.)  I further instructed the student to at the same time make another drink of the same ingredients, but adapted into being a true cocktail.  Here are the results:

The next couple of drinks are from the earlier Possets session.  Slings are led by the alcoholic base, mitigated by a little water, sweetness and aromatic ingredients (which reduce the sensation of the burn of the alcohol).  Bittered Slings are Cocktails – historically-and-correctly-speaking.  Punches are a balance of the four elements; sour + sweet + strong + weak – and even better when also aromatized.  So what makes a Posset unique?   All Possets are thickened.  Traditional Possets are thickened by cream or milk.  Egg Possets are better known as Flips.  Eggnogs, as they have evolved, are thickened by both dairy and egg.

Here is a flip that usually surprises the students for being much better than reading the recipe would suggest:

And finally, my all-time favorite eggnog:

Student serving the Baltimore Eggnog:

For those of you that have sought out the long-handled dashspoon (0.625 ml.) that I use to stir Old-fashioned Cocktails just before serving them, I have found the maker and an inexpensive seller!  The spoon is made under the auspices of the R.S.V.P. International company out of Seattle, Washington.  They call this spoon the Endurance Contempo Drink Spoon.  It measures a dash perfectly (and so is technically not a barspoon, which measures half a teaspoon or 2.5 ml.), is eleven inches long, and made of 18/10 stainless steel.  It can be found being sold by many sellers at around $10 per spoon, but Kitchen Nook is selling them for $3.95!

http://www.cooksnook.com/bar-spoon.html

I know that some of you were looking for this spoon, so get them at this price while you still can!

George Kappeler – Modern American Drinks – 1895: “A jigger is a measure used for measuring liquors when mixing drinks; it holds two ounces.  A pony holds half a jigger.”

Cuyler Reynolds – The Banquet Book – 1902: “Jigger. – The contents are equivalent to 2 ounces”

With that settled, it is now quite clear what is meant in the old books by “1/3 jigger.”  That would be 2/3 of a fluid ounce.  A mixed drink made in pre-prohibition times in a 2:1 proportion between the base liquor and a modifying liquor would therefore contain 1-1/3 fl-oz. of the base and 2/3 fl-oz. of the liqueur, fortified wine, etc.

To get this amount requires a split jigger with the capacity of 40 ml. in one cup and 20 ml. in the other.  That is because the American fluid-ounce has the capacity of 29.57 ml., which is rounded to 30 ml.  Therefore, to split a jigger (2 fl-oz.) between two liquors in a proportion of 2:1 requires requires the 40 ml. x 20 ml. split jigger.  Such a split jigger can be hard to find in American shops and the one jigger that claims to be a 40 ml. x 20 ml. split jigger that is easiest to obtain from the main American bar product suppliers is actually inaccurate.  For that reason I am sharing the following images that are also links:

 StainlessLux 73009 – $10

Zack Colpi 20182 – about $30