And The Winner Is…

by Ford Mixology Lab, New York

With regards to bartenders, what does it mean to be the best?  The best cocktail, best performance, best timing: these are all factors that can be judged.  However, tending bar and making cocktails is an art form — one that has many facets.  Some nights when we hop behind the bar, it feels as though we’re being tested by our patrons.  “Do you know what’s in a Sazerac?”  “Can you remember all that?”  “What’s an Amaro?”  Certainly, there are moments of stress in which everyone can get a little frazzled, but for most bartenders, being behind the bar is a well-choreographed dance.  We’re sure that even the most seasoned veteran would agree that making cocktails for a panel of judges is a much different experience from making cocktails for guests at the bar.  What does it mean to be the winner of a competition, and does winning really make one the best?

When we were budding bartenders starting out in San Francisco, we found ourselves seated at our favorite haunt next to a cocktail enthusiast, someone fully consumed with cocktail culture who prefers to sit at the bar instead of work behind it.  Sensing our interest and neophyte industry affiliation, she struck up a conversation about what, and who, she knew. “Don’t you know so-and-so?  He was named ‘World’s Best Bartender’ last year!”  What struck us the most about our conversation was not so much who, or what, she knew (which was impressive), but it was the fact that there had been named a ‘World’s Best Bartender.’  Who was this person?  What had he done to earn such a high title?  And who was the authority bestowing such prestigious awards?  The answer was simple: he had earned the title by winning a cocktail competition.

Competitions are a regular occurrence in the spirits world.  Often, liquor companies hold these contests to identify new talent and gain access to original recipes by asking entrants to develop cocktails using their brands.  To break up the monotony and entice bartenders to enter, each company or brand comes up with a creative way to compete for a coveted prize or title.  But what does winning really mean?

From your barstool, you’ve probably judged your very own bar tending competition:  “Wow, she’s fast!”  “He knows a lot about cocktails!”  “This guy really sucks!”  The advantage that you have while observing technique and talent on your chosen perch is that you’re seeing all of the pieces of the puzzle in context.  You’re watching that bartender, in his or her environment, making drinks and interacting with guests when he’s not aware he’s being judged.  Other than this glimpse, how on earth could you measure the skill of an individual with one isolated performance?  Competitions attempt to do just that.

It seems there is a specialized competition for every type of bartender.  There are those for the adventurous: one in particular, called the Cocktail World Cup, involves competing in a series of cocktail competitions, in New Zealand, all while doing physically challenging activities such as white water rafting and bungee jumping!   There are those for the charitable: last year, a group of Philanthropic female bartenders founded Speed Rack, a speed bartending competition for women to benefit breast cancer research and awareness.  And there are those for the studious: to enter Diageo’s World Class Competition, bartenders must study three courses detailing the history of cocktails, completing a quiz in each with a passing score before submitting a video of themselves creating an original recipe.

And then there are practical assessments that seek to do nothing more than give credit where credit is due.  Recently, we were invited to participate in a test administered by Tanqueray Global Brand Ambassador, Angus Winchester, which promised to prove who was the best bartender.  Created by an Australian company called Barmetrix, the test seemed simple.  All those participating were given four precise recipes to execute as quickly and accurately as possible.  What was the tricky part?  There was a time limit, the exercise was filmed, and the liquor bottles were weighed before and after to test pouring accuracy.  At the end, participants were presented with a scorecard, which showed accuracy, speed, and even the revenue that one could generate at that rate of speed and accuracy!

So, is the winner of a competition or highest scorer on an assessment really the best bartender?  Does working the fastest and most accurately make you the best, or are there more parts to the equation?  Let’s try an exercise.  Close your eyes and picture the best cocktail you’ve ever had.  Why was it perfection?  Was it made as quickly as possible?  Was it made using the best technique?  Was it a well-executed classic or was it an innovative use of flavors?

Now close your eyes and picture the best bartender you’ve had the pleasure of sitting in front of.  Why were they the best?  Were they engaging, entertaining, and  funny?  A great listener?  Or were they just intuitively aware of your desire to have them present when you needed them to be present and absent when you needed privacy?  Was this the individual who crafted the cocktail that you were just picturing?  Or did you value this individual most for his or her performance?  Do you even remember the cocktail they made for you?  Perhaps there’s a key piece that is just too difficult to quantify or calculate.

The younger generation of barkeeps often admire the older generation for their attention to the guest experience, sometimes at the expense of modern technique.  Could an old dog beat a young buck in a cocktail competition based on speed, agility, or current innovations?  Perhaps not.  But the old school definitely knows how to treat ‘em. We visited Bemelmans Bar in New York and met the legendary Tommy Rowles, a bartender who has been a staple behind that very bar since 1958.  Tommy was eighteen when he began and now, fifty-four years later, he can still be seem shaking cocktails and charming guests.  His hours have changed — he long ago traded night shifts for days — and his memory may not be quite what it used to be, but what hasn’t changed is his ability to make each guest feel special.  Bartenders like Tommy are why people go to bars.  Aren’t they winners, too?

One of our mentors once said, “There’s no objective best bartender, just like there’s no objective best song.”  Well, if you put it that way!  Think of all the great songs in the world.  There’s a time, a place, and a mood for every single one of them.  How we see the world is a product of our perceptions, a conglomeration of tastes and past experiences.  In the world of cocktails, everything is subjective and often situational.  Tastes change.  Palates change.  What’s new eventually becomes old, and everything old becomes new again.  This is not to devalue competitions or their merits; the winner of a competition deserves our congratulations for a job well done.  But to say someone is the best in the world? That’s like asking you to choose Madonna or Mick, Michael or Whitney, Lennon or Clapton.  And that’s just not fair.

10.) Pimm’s Cup

Pour your gin into a highball glass. Add a twist of lemon and fill with lemon-lime soda. Garnish with a pretty little slice of cucumber.

9.) Tropical Blue Margarita

• 1 1/2 oz  Tequila
• 1 oz Blue Curacao liqueur
• 1 oz lime juice
• Coarse salt

Rub rim of cocktail glass with lime juice. Dip rim in coarse salt. Shake tequila, blue curacao, and lime juice with ice, strain into the salt-rimmed glass, and serve.

8.) Passion Fruit Mojitos

Combine in a pitcher: 2 parts Passion Fruit Mojito mix, 1 part white rum, and ice. Mix, then pour into ice-filled glasses. Top with a splash of club soda. Garnish with a mint sprig and a lime slice.

7.) Singapore Sling

In a shaker, combine 1 1/2 oz. Plymouth gin, 1/2 oz. cherry Heering, 1/4 oz. Cointreau, 2 oz. fresh pineapple juice, 2 dashes grenadine, and one dash Angostura bitters. Shake with ice and strain into a Sling glass filled with fresh ice. Float 1/4 oz. Benedictine, top with soda, and garnish with a cocktail cherry and orange slice.

6.) Bourbon Negroni

In a mixing glass, combine 2 oz. fig-and-pear-infused bourbon, 1 oz. Campari, and 1 oz. sweet vermouth. Stir for 90 seconds and strain into a chilled martini glass. Garnish with a slice of orange.

5.) Blood and Sand

In a shaker, combine 3/4 oz. cherry Heering, 3/4 oz. single-malt Scotch, 3/4 oz. orange juice, and 3/4 oz. Dolin sweet vermouth. Shake with ice and strain into a chilled coupe glass. Garnish with a flamed orange twist.

4.) Gin Fizz

Shake gin, juice of lemon, and sugar with ice and strain into a highball glass over two ice cubes. Fill with carbonated water and stir before serving.

3.) Cherry Bloom

In a shaker, combine 1/2 oz. star-anise ginger syrup, 1 1/2 oz. Knob Creek bourbon, and 2 oz. dry rosé. Shake with ice and strain into a snifter glass, over crushed ice or straight up. Top with 3 dashes cherry bitters.

2.) Mint Julep 

Muddle mint leaves, powdered sugar, and water in a collins glass. Fill the glass with shaved or crushed ice and add bourbon. Top with more ice and garnish with a mint sprig.

1.) Tom Collins

In a shaker half-filled with ice cubes, combine the gin, lemon juice, and sugar. Shake well. Strain into a collins glass almost filled with ice cubes. Add club soda, stir and garnish with the cherry and orange slice.

The Wrong Order Order

There is a recognized order of how to call for alcohol in a bar and it is: brand name of liquor first, then how you want it prepared, e.g., “I’d like a Kettle One and tonic.”  Stating the brand name after the method of prep just makes things confusing, e.g., “I’d like a vodka tonic, Kettle One.”  So, do you want a vodka tonic and a Kettle One?  No, you want a Kettle Tonic.  This is why Tanqueray and tonic is written T&t, not G&Tw/T. Brand name first, everyone is happier.  Also you don’t need to tell us that Kettle One is vodka, i.e., “A Kettle One vodka tonic please.”  We bar-people are well aware that Ketel One is vodka and Jack is whiskey, etc. Thanks.

The Leaner

Are you one of those people who press their hands on the bar so as to lift themselves up and lean your head and torso way in like you’re inspecting the wells for cleanliness or something?  Then when you order your face is two inches from my face.  Maybe you’re a close-talker, I don’t know but don’t do that.  It’s a personal space thing.  You get all the space on the customer side of the bar; we get all the space on the working side, capisce?  Also, you people tend to be the same people who ask for something you can clearly see we don’t have, i.e., if you don’t see taps it’s because there are no taps.  No such thing as secret-hidden-taps.

The Inappropriate Order

Don’t go to say, Tommy’s Mexican Restaurant in San Francisco, where they have more tequila than anyone in the world and the world’s foremost authority on tequila, Julio Bermejo, to lead you on a spectacular tequila tasting tour, and order a Manhattan.  That’s just dumb.  Also don’t order a glass of wine in a bar that doesn’t serve food.  They have bad glass wine there because they only serve one glass every three days and have to throw away the rest of the bottle and so therefore can’t afford to have good wine on offer.  If you’re going to order wine in a bar, order a bottle, trust me.

The Water Mime

For some strange reason many people make this strange hand motion as if they’re raising an invisible glass to their lips to drink while saying, “May I have a glass of water?”  Yet they don’t make the same motion when ordering anything else.  Why is this? Perhaps they’re making sure I know they want to drink the water and not, say, use it to bathe.  I got it; I don’t need the hand motion.

The Indecisive Waver

I’m not one who believes in waving at the bartender, but I can see how in a busy bar one would feel like waving might be the only way to get some attention your way, so fine, wave.  But if you’re going to wave the bartender down, know what you want.  Don’t wave me down and then turn to your friends and say, “Um, hey guys what do you want to drink?” This drives everyone I know who’s ever worked in a busy bar batty.  R Bar in San Francisco used to have these shirts that said, “Know what you want, Know what your friends want, say please and thank you, Tip.”  That’s what I’m trying to say.

Mr. and Mrs. Snappy Finger

Just get out.

The Make Believe Server

Every restaurant has an area for the servers to come collect drinks for their tables from the bar.  This area is usually roped off, or marked by a big brass railing or just lots of mats and garnishes for the drinks to rest on and the servers to garnish their drinks.  If you are not a server currently working in that restaurant, DON’T STAND THERE.  The reason that one space is empty while the rest of the bar is three deep is because everyone else knows that’s the server’s window, ok genius?

The Garnish Grazer

I wash my hands every 25 seconds behind the bar because I’m washing tins and mixing glasses, etc.  I can touch the garnishes that may be sitting on the bar, you cannot.  It’s not a salad bar, if you want something ask.  Also, that bowl of fruit on most good bars these days, that’s not complimentary fruit, that’s for garnishing too.  Don’t touch that either.  And don’t touch my tools.  In fact just don’t touch anything.  I’ll hand you something if you ask, as will almost everyone, but don’t just reach out and take it.