bathtub-gin

Dairy

2010-09-10T05:27:00.000-07:00

Normally I'm not a fan of any kind of dairy in my alcohol. Something about it always seem wrong. Maybe it was college when cement mixers, mind erasers, and bj shots were common. The exception was the chocolate martini and my mom's favorite drink when I was younger was Kahlua and cream. But both of those were one off's. You drank that and nothing else. And so here are two drinks to celebrate the chocolate coffee creamy goodness, one of them vegan!

Sans Moo

Instead of Kahlua and cream you can mix Van Gogh Double Espresso vodka with Vanilla Silk soymilk for the vegan version of Kahlua and cream. I like equal parts or a little heavier on the soymilk.

Hot Kahlua and Cream

And last night with mom we made homemade hot cocoa spiked with Kahlua complete with homemade fresh whipped cream! You wisk the heavy cream with a little sugar and viola, a Kahlua and cream that will warm you on those autumn evenings!

Bouncer

2010-07-28T08:02:00.000-07:00

Somehow I knew all this yoga would come in handy. Not only just to perform acrobatic feats to get the good stuff on the top shelf since they still haven't bought my step stool. And not just for my big scary muscular arms and back so I look like I mean business at last call, but mostly I think it's my inner sense of calm that usually is for when it gets super busy during happy hour. But Monday, it was for something else. I had to 86 the largest man that I've seen in a long time. He had come in before we opened and so therefore directed him to other local watering holes. Sure enough, at 9ish he comes barreling through the door and orders a vodka cranberry. I've always been weary of people who hide their alcohol with easy flavorings. Give me a well crafted cocktail or something pure any day, say bourbon on the rocks, a glass of cava, but if you bury your alcohol, you're trying to hide or suppress something. He's wearing a button down shirt with his employers logo---not great advertising for an institute I admire and I wonder what he does and how they hired someone who leers at ladies sitting at a bar. The woman to his right has already asked for her check and is taking her dinner to her room. This leaves him to my regulars. He's crowding and loud and at this point his has a twenty out and wants another round. At which point I tell him (and the other fellow on the other side who have managed to get in a loud conversation over said regular ladies) that they need to behave like gentlemen and let the ladies enjoy their girl time. He starts to deny that he was bothering them but they still protest and so calmly I say that I'm sorry but I'm not going to serve him another drink and I hand him the tab. And happily ever after he pays without tipping and walks out into the full moon night and I breathe easy, a breath worth so much more than the two dollar tip I could have received.

Adventures in Drinking from the Heart

2010-07-18T15:13:00.001-07:00

Just got back from an amazing trip home to Ohio and was mighty happy that mixology is alive and well in the heartland. The cocktail menu at L'Albatros had a fantastic vodka drink which they kindly substituted Hendricks Gin for moi :). A refreshing blend of rosemary simple syrup, lime, and soda to wake up the taste buds before dinner! I have to say the most inspiring dish was the chilled beet soup with watermelon and ginger---some things I hope to experiment with in cocktails in the near future.

But the best adventure of the night was to come at La Cave Du Vin, where the barman Eric educated me about the delicacy of making lambic beer. In his words, my favorite Lindeman's are like the Boon's Farm of lambic beer. Girl beer was what I called it, but he introduced me to a better kind, or rather, a more artfully crafted version true to the intention behind the premise of making a lambic. I can't remember the brand name (this was my third beverage of the evening), but the sour cherries really came through and then a beer finish, not the sugary almost wine-like quality of the Lindeman's. This reminds me of how my father introduced me to wine. We started with the sweeter reislings when I was still in high school. We were sitting outside at a restaurant in Akron when my father ordered me a glass. I loved the sweet, fruity taste and that I finally had a grown up glass---no more coke or tea!

And then as I got older, my taste buds craved the peppery bite of more intense reds. You can choose to evolve or devolve, one of my yoga teachers says. Life changes, our tastes change. May we all find something that makes us happy and takes us another step on the path. One sip at a time. Find something to savor.

Mock-tails or Mixers?!

2010-07-08T13:21:00.000-07:00

Summertime means lemonade and so here are two varieties---and if you like, you can add gin or vodka (in my order of preference), though honestly, I prefer these pre-spike :)

Basil Lemonade

boil one tea kettle full of hot water

add honey to taste

squeeze in the juice of 4-6 lemons

add a few sprigs of fresh basil

refrigerate

Lavender Lemonade

boil one tea kettle full of hot water

in a tea strainer steep lavender blossoms for 3 minutes

add honey to taste

squeeze in the juice of 4-6 lemons

refrigerate

Freeze Your Bourbon!

2010-07-06T06:06:00.000-07:00

Normally I hate it when people ask me to make a frozen drink, the most common being margaritas. Why in the middle of the city in an upscale tavern would a frozen drink ever appear? I'm not disputing the quality of said drinks and I happen to enjoy frozen drinks---at poolside bars and bbqs. To me ordering said frozen whatever would be like walking into a beer bar and asking for a mojito. You just don't do it. Everything has a time and a place...but there are always exceptions to the rule!

Normally, bourbon isn't a summer drink, but when combined with vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce, it makes a rockin' milkshake, or rather, bourbon shake since there is no milk here---it's replaced with the bourbon. I used Buffalo Trace and didn't measure so it was a STRONG shake! So go ahead, break some rules and break out the bourbon!

the mixologist returns

2010-06-30T08:42:00.000-07:00

Just returned from assisting a yoga teacher training and will be incorporating some of what I learned there to my mixology (I'm missing the wonderful basil lemonade already...)

so for now, find me here and once the yoga and the dust settles, I'll be back with some new recipes---or you can come to the bar and try them, the new drink menu is revealed at the SLT!

Tender

2010-06-11T14:59:00.000-07:00

The word tender is embedded in the word bartender. Tender means to give, whether it be a monetary transaction or an emotional one. Which is what one of my regulars reminded me of, actually, two of my regulars, both people I have met while serving them drinks and now I share in their confidences about love, loss, and life. I'm reminded and humbled at this responsibility I have for others well-being, not just in limiting how much they can consume in an evening, but how much we all consume in life on a deeper level. Like those balanced drinks I've mentioned, we all have our fair share of sour, of sweet, and of spirit. It was an evening that served me as it was my last night tending before heading up to assist a yoga teacher training tomorrow.

This morning I taught my 7am yoga class gate pose, saying how much power we have to choose what we keep out and what we let in. And I'm reminded of how much I am a gate keeper in my own life. A former co-worker in DC told me that we as bartenders are the gate keepers to the underworld, but what I've found is that we are also keepers of an inner world and inner space. To help people see more than the bottom of an empty glass, but to provide service, counsel, and cheer.

So here's to naming more than just drinks, but naming what truly matters.

Cheers and Namaste.

Look it Up Dear

2010-06-09T06:53:00.001-07:00

Many of us from my generation remember when "Look it up dear," meant going to the dictionary or the encyclopedia rather than "googling it." Growing up, I was (and still am) a huge fan of Scrabble and Balderdash. So my growing up years had me flipping pages and reading lots of historical fiction. In 6th grade I read Roots and Sacajawea. In 7th grade, I heard the word "yoga" and checked out books at the library and enrolled in a class at the JCC. There was always something new to learn. One of my favorite tricks was that I memorized all the state capitals. When we went out to eat, my dad always told the waiter or waitress to pick any state and then I would proudly relay the capital of said state. My science fair project one year was how to distill perfume, to extract the essential oil from the rose.

As a yogi, I know all of these are linked (I'm not saying it is my karma to be a mixologist), but there's something about the chemistry, geography, history, and this idea of learning. Many of my colleagues probably hate when someone comes in with some obscure drink, or says, "I had this amazing thing involving passion fruit juice at a hotel in Miami, can you make that?" But in truth, I love those moments.

When it's slow, I love reading the bar book. Who knew there were so many drinks with the word "screw" in them? Some involving the pacing, the location. Most with triple sec. But I digress...

Towards the end of the night on Monday two gentlemen come up to the bar. "Do you know how to make a Sazarac?"

I don't, but I know that I love my bottle of Sazarac Rye. It's my favorite vase at home, and though we have the Rye, I decide after consulting the recipe in my trusty book and what I have available at the bar to mix it this way:

coat the bottom of a rocks glass with Pernod

top with ice

add 2-3 dashes of bitters (we have Angostura)

2 oz. Woodford Reserve

1/2 oz. simple syrup

stir, add a lemon peel for garnish

A woman who had come in for wine got caught up in watching me make the drink and ordered one just because she had been hearing so much about the resurgence of the Sazarac.

And if you google it, you'll learn about pre-civil war New Orleans, a senate bill proclaiming this the official drink of the city, that the drink was originally made with Cognac...and perhaps that will give you a thirst for more than just a good drink, but a chance to learn something new about someone else, delve deeper into history, or even make some new discovery, to get a thirst for something that you will have to make the time to look up. But I promise, it will be worth toasting about. Cheers!

Ohio Lady (sans the sauce!)

2010-06-02T13:24:00.000-07:00

Memorial Day in Ohio, I'd be remiss if I didn't share an Ohio treat here---and this one doesn't have the sauce :)

Here's a mock-tail inspired by the homemade lemon shakes at the Canfield Fair (the Labor Day tradition).

Even in a kitchen sans proper bar equipment, you can make an Ohio Lady!

Microwave two mugs full of hot water (one mug per person).

Stir in 3 teaspoons of sugar.

Put in fridge to cool.

Slice fresh 2 strawberries and half a lemon per person.

Shake each serving in a mason jar with ice and mug of simple syrup.

Drink up and toast your loved ones!

Dante's Sweet Number

2010-05-26T07:22:00.001-07:00

Last night one of my regulars came in---the one who inspired the Basil Devil, but since we didn't have the micro basil anymore, I created this little hot and sweet number. I'm calling it: Dante's Sweet Number after the discussion in yoga class about inviting both g-d and the devil in. It was a depends on how you look at it question, in the way that the glass is either half full or half empty. However, this drink is so good, the glass will most likely be totally empty until you order another round!

Dante's Sweet Number

muddle two strips jalapeno with 2-3 lime wedges

2 1/2 oz. 10 Cane Rum

1 oz. Simple Syrup

1/4 oz. fresh lime juice

Shake and strain over ice.

Make eyes at Beatrice across the bar.

Finding Balance

2010-05-22T11:09:00.000-07:00

The classic cocktail was originally comprised of a base spirit, a bitter, and a sweet. Quite a bit like life. After practicing yoga for years, I’ve come to let go of the idea of smoothing out all the wrinkles of living. I had thought that if I practiced enough, I could eliminate all that was unpleasant or uncomfortable. However, after years of standing upside down and placing my limbs in various positions, I’ve come to find that peace is not some external state of bliss to be journeyed to, but rather it’s the small seed within that grows no matter what’s happening externally. Without the difficult times, the joy is muted and the challenging times make happiness that much sweeter. And just like life and yoga, a cocktail is a balance between bitter and sweet, sugar and sour. Life, like a cocktail is all encompassing.

And that these forces or tastes work together---that they actually enhance each other. Something as simple as ¼ of an ounce of fresh lemon or lime can change an entire drink. Or how I tell my yoga students that even practices one posture a day can bring change, that this small action of standing up well and tall, all muscles engaged, is like tossing a stone in a pond, the ripples reach all the way to the other shore. They may not feel it right away, but these subtle forces work their magic in our unconscious minds. Like the way freshly ground pepper and strawberries enhance my twist on the pisco sour, The PS. As a yogi, it’s important for me to fuse my love for health with mixology and so the strawberry adds some vitamin c and the black pepper has some medicinal properties (thanks google). I’m not saying that this is completely healthy, but ps, there’s some goodness here.

2 oz. pisco

¾ oz. fresh lemon juice

½ oz. simple syrup

¼ oz. pasteurized egg whites

Muddle 1-2 strawberries with 3-4 twists of freshly ground pepper

Add the pisco, lemon juice, simple syrup, and egg whites.

Shake in a cocktail shaker with ice.

Strain into a champagne flute and garnish with freshly ground pepper

Basil Devil

2010-05-19T09:08:00.000-07:00

"So, I get the orange and the grapefruit," she says, "but the avocado?"

"It's for a margarita," I tell the woman drinking a Jack and Diet. "It's avocado, jalapeno, and honey."

I love that someone has picked up on the subtleties---that just by leaving something interesting out on the bar, a conversation is born, as is a new cocktail!

The jalapeno part catches the attention of one of my regulars sitting next to her. Unfortunately no peppers in house and so I create the following for him (still a work in progress):

Basil Devil

rim a rocks glass with lime and sugar

muddle a healthy pinch of micro basil with 2-3 wedges of lime

2-4 dashes of Chipotle Tabasco and a pinch of crushed red pepper flakes

shake with:

2 1/2 oz light rum

1 oz. honey syrup (made with equal parts boiling water and honey)

you can serve right from the shaker or strain depending on your preference

top with a splash of soda water

Back in Action

2010-05-16T07:35:00.000-07:00

After a long hiatus, Bathtub Gin is back. Re-inspired with new recipes and ideas thanks to Jacques, our fantastic Kimpton master mixologist, I've decided to keep up this blog with cocktail musings at least once a week. This week has been a re-birth in a way. Last night was a typical slow Saturday and two guys came in for a few drinks. After ordering a few G and T's, one of the guys switched to one of my newest spring cocktails on the menu. I was a little bashful asking if he liked it--he was drinking a purplish drink garnished with blackberries and sometimes the fellas shy away from the pretty colored beverages. However, he loved it---not too sweet and refreshing was what he said. I blushed when I told him it was my creation.

"So," he says, "you're not like a bartender, but a mixologist." And after 8 hours of intense measuring and mastering some classic cocktails, I was able to reply, "yeah, just wait until we bring out the new menu."

And so the rest of the night was spent naming the lovely little libations born from this week. I told the cocktail server, "if I'm having this much trouble naming my drinks, imagine when I make babies."

So come on in this week and ask for The Perfect 10, PS, The Whispering Echo, Carly's Sunrise, or some Sweet Redemption...

Off and On

2009-09-13T07:28:00.000-07:00

For a while, I thought I was done with this blog---perhaps in the way that you drink something and then all the sudden, you've moved on to the next thing. I think of my progression from Jack Daniels to Woodford Reserve. Or perhaps my more recent switch from a single malt replacing said Bourbon.

Or maybe it's the bars that change. In college, the cheap beer and dance clubs to my now preference to bar with classic cocktails and a place to sit down---and a big cheers to my regulars P & A who introduced A and I to Beekman Bar and Books last night. Best Old Fashioned I ever had!

And so I'm back here (more sporadically) blogging when a thought arises. Last night was one of my favorite nights working (lots of regulars) and interesting new hotel guests. May have even cultivated an audience for my upcoming poetry reading in Detroit. One of my standard questions begins with where are you from and to get people talking about home. How much we all want to connect and how a bar can be that place. To get folks talking, to ease them into conversation with a stranger, how much we all want to be heard.

And so find me here every now and again---with insights and tips and random musings about tending.

Coincidences or Not

2009-08-03T07:54:00.000-07:00

A few summers ago I was vacationing in the Pacific Northwest. While rummaging through a vintage store in a small coastal town, I found some old decanter bottles with ornate medallions that said what they were. I think there was vodka and gin. No bourbon. The proprietor said he could make one into a bracelet for me. I picked gin even though it wasn't my drink at the time. It had sharp edges, so it doesn't really make that great of a bracelet and certainly not for tending, but lately I'm wondering if that object was perhaps a sign from my future self, a small glimpse of who I would become. After all, most of my favorite classic cocktails involve gin---something with raspberries from The Campbell Apartment, and the bittered gin sling and the amazing cucumber limeade with Hendricks gin from Tom and Jerry's. And this blog and my dream bar...

And here's the newest creation with gin---

all equal parts:

gin

pomegranate juice

fresh lime juice

simple syrup

and a splash of soda water.

On the rocks.

I'm still thinking up the name for this little number so for now, cheers, from Ms. Gin.

Magazine Lady (the reprise)

2009-07-22T17:49:00.000-07:00

I'm back to working on more bar essay/fiction after focusing my energy on yoga poems...and this comes after my craziest night tending since I started. It's not even close to done, but it's a start to a longer piece about the interactions between men and women and if there's any difference between it being an exchange that happens over the bar or only on the other side.

It was one of those slower nights when Magazine Lady came in. She's always got a stack of beauty and real estate magazines and orders a diet coke or a coffee. She tips well enough and her mystery intrigues me. I've always wanted to ask her why so many magazines, why decide to read them in a bar and not order anything alcoholic? Though I've been that person quite a few times having coffee or tea at a bar or even just water, so I get it, on some level.

The last time she was in, the tipsy suits cornered her. She didn't answer. "You a magazine editor or something?"

"No," she had said cooly flipping a page. He tried again. "You're badgering me," she said, "I'm just trying to read."

Luckily his less rude or drunken colleague stepped in, paid the check and said it was nice meeting her and they had a dinner reservation.

There's a fine line between the spoken and unspoken. As a bartender, I try to respect people and let them talk when they want. "I try not to judge or peg people," which is what I told the South American tourist when he wanted me to tell him what I thought of his relationship with the woman standing next to him. He pushed, "is she my friend, my girlfriend, or my friend?"

I let the bait fall loose, knowing that the small fish are small.

"You're supposed to read people," he said.

I set his drink in front of him. "This is what I do, if you want analysis, you'll have to tip me more than 20%."

His girl smiled. "Good answer," she said rolling her eyes at him.

So I let Magazine Lady be. I know she had told me her name, but I had forgotten. It's easier to remember what people drink and what their stories are and so they keep coming back and it gets too late to ask their names again. I was trying to think of a way to find out politely when fate in the form of business traveler stepped in. He was from the midwest but used to live in the city he said. It was late and there were only four guests spaced out across the bar, the Swiss tourist drinking Sam Adams, another regular, Oren, Magazine Lady, and Jim who was introducing himself to Magazine Lady.

The last time she was in she was telling me about a date, how she had met someone at the bar when I wasn't working and how they went to french restaurant in the neighborhood, but it was terrible. She said they had bought a bottle of wine and then the waiter shooed them out before they finished their meal and their wine. I tried to guess where she had been. It sounded like the place I went to once for a bourbon after work. I met the owner. He invited me back to eat and said he'd take care of everything. I never took him up on it though. "The owner must not have been there that night," she said.

I didn't want to say but I sensed that somehow these things happen to her. Once she had given me a bracelet. A friend had given it to her but she said it seemed more my style. She said she noticed the paint was chipped on some of the plastic beads. "The bar is dark I said, no one will notice." I put it in my tip bucket.

Outside the sky had darkened. Cars flashed by in the windows. I poured the chardonnay Jim buys for her, which she had initially refused, but since he was pushy about it, I figured let him pay for it. “You don’t have to drink it,” I had said.

A few weeks after the incident, my manager calls me in to the office, says a woman came in and said that I was the reason she doesn’t stay at the hotel anymore. She said that I treat women as if they’re objects. I haven’t seen Magazine Lady since that night. I ask if the woman had long thinning auburn hair and lipstick that’s a little off, too bright and running into the cracks around her mouth. My boss said “yeah, hair up in a ponytail.”

I shrug. I recount the story and my boss taps a pencil on the bar. “These things happen,” she says.

“She lives in town, she doesn’t stay in the hotel,” I say, wondering why this white lie, but I know, somehow I let her down.

It’s summer now, months since Magazine Lady or the last time we even spoke of her. I keep thinking maybe one day she’ll be back but something in me says I’ll never see her again.

It’s her I think of when Kristie gestures at the end of the bar, at the tall man, shaved head, and asks “job hazard?”

“It comes with the territory, doesn’t happen much here. Like anything else, pros and cons. He’s been at it since we opened.”

She squeezes the lime into her drink, “I don’t know how you deal with it.”

I smile, “it’s busy enough that I can walk away when he gets a little more detailed.”

“The things I could do to you,” he had said as I skated away to the couple a few seats over.

“I practice yoga,” I say to Kristie, “it helps.”

What Else Do You Do?

2009-07-15T06:52:00.000-07:00

This is the question that I get a lot. Perhaps it's the flower or the artsy glasses that gives me away. So in the spirit of what else, I'm excited to say that I was a runner-up in this year's Lilith magazine's poetry contest! Just scroll down until you see my name under Poetry Contest!

And for some more cool artsy bartenders, check this out: A big cheers to Philly photographer/tender, Sarah Stolpha!

Pink and Purple Drinks

2009-07-06T11:09:00.000-07:00

This week the drinks people asked for came in colors---I had no idea what a purple rain was until a woman came in the bar asking for one. She said she had had it in Jamaica. Thanks to the trusty iPhone, I was able to make it.

Here's the recipe in case you want to try it:

1 splash Blue Curacao
1 1/2 oz Gin
Cranberry Juice
1 splash Soda Water
1 splash Sweet and Sour Mix
Directions Pour gin into an ice-filled highball glass, and fill with cranberry juice. Add blue curacao, sour mix and soda. Shake gently, add more curacao (until royal-purple), and serve.
Serve in a Highball Glass I'm not a fan, but hey, you gotta make the customer happy. And speaking of great customers, last week I met Katherine de Tristan Tait, CEO of SENCE Rare European Rose Nectar. I had a blast whipping up some fun cocktails with her pretty pink nectar, but I have to be hush hush on the recipes since I'm entering them in my first bartender contest, Cocktails for the Cure!

Fette Sau!

2009-06-29T09:01:00.000-07:00

Since reading and article in Edible Brooklyn in the fall, my beau, Mr. Gin (or last night, Mr. Beer) has been wanting to go to Fette Sau. Since we were in Billyburg, we thought maybe this was the night, and then after walking around, we found it right away, not even needing to look it up on our evil-i's.

As a vegetarian, I went for the bourbon selection, hoping there would be enough side items to satisfy my hunger as well as my thirst. Last night ended up being 1 for 2. Though I did notice a lot of the mom's brought tupper-ware full of kid food (mac and cheese, apples, cheerios), so next time, I'll be stashing some fake meat in my purse so I can have my bourbon and eat my meat too!

However, the drinking was prime. I found a new bourbon I liked and for only $6 a glass! It's called 80 Strong and with a picture of a kick ass lady on the bottle, what bourbon-loving gal wouldn't support this brand?! It's not as vanilla-y or maple-y as Woodford, but the bite is soft and sweet. And what guy doesn't want to drink his beer out of a mason jar?!

And the bar at Fette Sau uses those perfect gigantic squares of ice and has little eye-droppers of water so you can perfect the right balance of bourbon and water. It's quite a delicate one, like relationships. You have to keep talking and toasting and trying new things, finding familiar and new territory simultaneously.

Sweetness

2009-06-22T16:07:00.000-07:00

Notes from a Writer, Bartender, Yogi...

I'm in the nail salon after yoga class with TJ's Ragunath and it just so happens that I strike up a conversation with the woman who is across from me as we wait for our nails to dry. I think the conversation started because I asked her about the rad stripes across her big toe. She asks what I do and I say, I teach yoga---actually, she had noticed my mat and asked if I practiced at the Bikram studio right above the salon (so far not yet, but Joe, I plan on checking it out). She asks where I teach and so I tell her that I just graduated and I'll begin teaching pregnant women and their partners at a shelter in Harlem.

Too bad she says, I don't qualify for that, I live down the street.

No problem I say, I teach privates. I give her my card and she puts my info in her cell. I talk about the benefits of yoga and stretching and she asks if I can teach her and her husband. YES!

In yoga class, Ragunath told the story about chanting, how when he was younger and in India, his girlfriend was all stressed out and so he went to the guru thinking that the guru would mix up some kind of herbal remedy. At the end of the day, the guru gave him a song. Which is the song he taught us today. A song about the sweetness of Krisha, how in Northern India, they worship the baby form of G-d, how different that is from us in the West, praying to adult forms of G-d. Every other word in the song is basically the word sweet. I think about that word suka, may your practice be sweet from the sutras we studied. He told us that yoga is about how we can evolve, what can we do in our practice to make our lives sweeter. How can our practice better equip us to serve and cultivate that sweetness off our mats. I'm wondering if there is some correlation, this path, these teachings today. And maybe that is why the flower in my hair, to remind me about this sweetness.

And so tonight, I will bring that offering in liquid form, to my wonderful boyfriend, who is patient with me as I'm evolving, a non-alcoholic cocktail, bringing some sweetness and new energy to us and our relationship.

I'll be muddling cucumbers, limes, and perhaps a hint of mint or basil in soda water. Green for growth and for rooting, for sealing in and inspiring.

signing off again

2009-06-04T15:23:00.000-07:00

i leave for a wedding and then yoga teacher training where i'll be using my flask as a water bottle! 12 days of no booze, talk about vacation from work related things!!

Magazine Lady

2009-05-31T06:37:00.000-07:00

It was one of those slower nights when Magazine Lady came in. She's always got a stack of beauty mags and real estate mags and orders a diet coke or a coffee. She tips well enough and her mystery intrigues me. I've always wanted to ask her why so many magazines, why decide to read them in a bar and not order anything alcoholic? Though I've been that person quite a few times having coffee or tea at a bar or even just water, so I get it, on some level.

The last time she was in, the tipsy suits cornered her. She didn't answer. "You a magazine editor or something?"

"No," she had said cooly flipping a page. He tried again. "You're badgering me," she said, "I'm just trying to read."

Luckily his less rude or drunken colleague stepped in, paid the check and said it was nice meeting her and they had a dinner reservation.

I let the bait fall loose, knowing that the small fish are small.

"You're supposed to read people," he said.

I set his drink in front of him. "This is what I do, if you want analysis, you'll have to tip me more than 20%."

His girl smiled. "Good answer," she said rolling her eyes at him.

So I let Magazine Lady be. I know she had told me her name, but I had forgotten. It's easier to remember what people drink and what their stories are and so they keep coming back and it gets too late to ask their names again. I was trying to think of a way to find out politely when fate in the form of business traveller stepped in. He was from the midwest but used to live in the city he said. It was late and there were only four guests spaced out across the bar, the Swiss tourist drinking Sam Adams, another regular, Oren, Magazine Lady, and Jim who was introducing himself to Magazine Lady.

The last time she was in she was telling me about a date, how she had met someone at the bar when I wasn't working and how they went to french restaurant in the neighborhood, but it was terrible. She said they had bought a bottle of wine and then the waiter shooed them out before they finished their meal and their wine. I tried to guess where she had been. It sounded like the place I went to once for a bourbon after work. I met the owner. He invited me back to eat and said he'd take care of everything. I never took him up on it and I was surprised at her experience. "The owner must not have been there that night," she said.

Serve Safe

2009-05-25T18:18:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had one of those days that a lot of people seem to have---12 hour days at the office. I had to be at the bar early for Serve Safe Training. Actually from 11 am to 3 pm and then my shift began at 4. I was initially upset, but once the training began, I really liked it. It was like school. Bar School. I learned about the laws and the way the body processes alcohol. Much of this is common sense, but nonetheless, it's always good to have more knowledge. So once I find out my test results, I'll be certified! And our trainer (manager of our other Kimpton bar/restaurant) is from Ohio and went to Kent! Oh how things are sync-ing up.

And on another note, looks like I'll be having regular shifts starting in July so you'll all know when to find me!

Happy Manicure!

2009-05-20T08:35:00.000-07:00

On the way to Miami, I ran into someone I went to high school with, and it turns out, she also works in a bar---only she does manicures! So, last night, I decided to try the happy hour at Beauty Bar. $10 gets you a drink and a manicure. I had heard about the bar in grad school and always wanted to stop in. I mean, who doesn't like sipping a drink in a 1950's blowdryer chair and watching the walls glitter (yes, lots of glitter in here).

We Hate This Vodka...

2009-05-12T11:28:00.000-07:00

Over the Mother's Day weekend, I was walking around with my mother and since I knew people were going to be coming over Saturday night, I thought, maybe I should have some wine in the house, maybe my yoga pals won't think bourbon and beer post yoga is a good idea. Plus I knew mom wouldn't be having any of that. And in all the hub-bub, I don't think she went into my freezer for her usual red wine garnish, though I can't be sure. And after a bottle of wine, I introduced Leslie to bourbon, Mr. Woodford precisely.

But rewind to mom and I in Adam's Wines and Liquor, my favorite local shop for alcoholic sundries. Adam offering mom and me a taste of the sweet honey Polish vodka whose name I forget but I promise you, is well worth the trip to South Slope. Adam telling us how much he hates Belvedere and especially Grey Goose (to which I showed him my valiant be-headings of such bottles). Adam, proud of the true vodkas (made in Poland of course, not made somewhere else and then with the name France on the bottle to indicate class, though with wine yes! vodka no!) and joking and smiling. And Adam who only wants to sell quality products and do proper business and feel good about the money he makes, which resonates with me.

When I first started bartending my friend Shannon told me all people in this industry are either artists (interpret as you may) or alcoholics. I think about this term, honest living, and when you put yourself in a place where there's plenty of alcohol and innuendo, either you succumb, you make art, or you fall somewhere in the middle. So it's nice to find a kindred spirit to share my spirits with. He gets a hearty cheers for helping me discover more of my ancestry and for being an all around wonderful person, in the industry and in the world.

Manhattans, Rocks, and Scooby Snacks

2009-05-06T08:05:00.000-07:00

I get this question a lot: What's your favorite drink to make? Or the variation, what do you like to drink?

And while lately, I've been playing more with rum, gin, and jelly, my answer is always, a manhattan. There's just something too funny about drinking a manhattan in Manhattan. So who comes into the bar asking the famous question, but Curtis Robinson, fellow blogger and "Producer-At-Large" for The Imbiber. Talk about serious professional comprehensive site!

He had his on the rocks, which leads me to my next question that I was asked by some lovely patrons last night---is it ok to drink a martini on the rocks. What I've noticed is that a woman has never ordered hers on the rocks. I say, ok, have your rocks. Put them where you like. It's your drink and you're the only one who has to drink it. Perhaps this theory comes from my mom who likes a few of them in her red wine. At first I was embarrassed if we went out, but nothing tops my cousin, right after we turned of age, ordering a drink called a "Scooby Snack," in a fancy restaurant. And our gracious waiter asking, M'am, how do you make that?

It was something with Midori and cream, a beautiful spring color, but seriously. Seriously yes! If we can dream it, we can drink it. So here's to us all, getting what we like, green, not green, rocks, no rocks.

A Jammy Jam

2009-05-01T15:16:00.000-07:00

It's a rainy day in New York, a fine day to blog about one of my favorite drinks that I had while in Miami--the breakfast capirhinia. The key ingredient is orange marmalade! The best way to make it is to shake everything else up and then stir in the jam. Cheers to Jacques Bezuidenhout for an amazing cocktail menu and for introducing me to adding a little jelly to my drinks! The next Monday Emiliano and I added raspberry jam to gin. I'm thinking about adding grape to vodka for a kick ass vodka soda---it may end up tasting like Grape pop from when I was a kid.

And if you mix Frangelico and Chambord, you have yourself a nice little peanut butter and jelly shot to accompany your sandwich (courtesy of E's fine tending skills).

Ms. Gin is really a Ninja

2009-04-28T10:44:00.000-07:00

In a past life, I must have been a ninja. Or a vodka-destroying ninja at least. This is the second bottle down in about a month or so...

The Experiment

2009-04-22T10:36:00.000-07:00

My father used to keep his vodka in the freezer. My absolute favorites were the Van Gogh Chocolate and Espresso ones. Good enough to drink by themselves. In fact, I think I use that standard to measure if the liquor is good---would I want to drink it by itself (or on the rocks). Most bourbons pass the test, a few small batch botanical gins (like Hendricks), some better rums, and the above vodkas. That being said, it's starting to finally warm up here and I just bought some retro popsicle makers and so I'm thinking of alcoholic versions. Something a little whimsical and wrong but in a good way. So the question is, how much mixer will get the mango vodka to get with the orange juice and do their magic. I'm off for vacation tomorrow and wondering if I'll come home to a freezer of fun or perhaps a bastard screwdriver...

Connection and Cosmos

2009-04-20T09:41:00.000-07:00

Though I'm not a fan of the drink myself, it's spring and everyone wants a Cosmo. Think Pink , think love and blossoms. The flowering trees on Park Ave. The tourists who are still all about Sex in the City, the I'm cool in my heels and I want a drink that looks pretty in my hands mentality. So if you have to make them, make them well. The trick is more lime, less cranberry. And the Cosmo's cousin, the Apple-tini is also making a comeback with my bar patrons---I remember when my father first made one for me, just vodka and apple pucker. Though I'm not a fan, if you add some fresh lemon, lime, and sour, it balances out the jolly rancher like quality.

I'm in the middle of 9 days in a row of tending (with yesterday off, so three more in a row to go). I thought I would be much more stressed, but what I'm realizing is the part of my job I love most is getting to know people. Sometimes I almost feel as if I'm at the bar, rather than working there---a sort of Park Ave. Cheers type of deal. However, I don't think I'd get to know as much or be part of as much if I were a patron (or get to walk away from what I don't really want to be part of).

On Saturday I opened early for a wedding party pre-gaming; later in the evening a couple came in celebrating their one year anniversary. Earlier in the week I got a good view of a heavy make-out session at the bar. (an aside, perhaps try finding a secluded corner, but hey, we all know what alcohol can do). It's spring and it's love. Lots of dates happening. A few weeks ago, I watched a man have two different dates at the bar (and he flirted with me in between, leaving his number on his tab at the end). As if! I'm tossing a virtual cosmo in his face!

Grain is Back!

2009-04-17T09:00:00.000-07:00

In the great Passover battle, Chopin beats Ciroc as the non-grain based vodka that is "kosher." Next year, I promise to have a whole slew of Matzah friendly sippers! Last night, I had a bagel, a slice, and a cinnamon roll during my bar shift. The bourbon will wait until the weekend when I can really enjoy it and sit on the opposite side of the bar.

I'm in the middle of my 9 days in a row of tending to make up for time away. So far, not so bad, I've had some great conversations and wonderful and interesting patrons. One who brought out his guitar and had a sing-a-long, one who is an officer, one from Cleveland, one who has retired race horses, one who taught me the best way to make espresso martinis...

So here's the recipe---with my twist, substituting Starbuck's coffee liquor for Kahlua.

All equal parts: Stoli Vanilla, Espresso, Starbuck's coffee liquor (or Kahlua)

Shake with lots of ice (esp. if espresso is hot)

Strain into martini glass

garnish with 3 coffee beans

Often people add Bailey's to this drink. I used to, just a hint, often adding half and half to cut it because something about creamy liquor puts me off.

Recession Drinking!

2009-04-14T10:27:00.000-07:00

.. from Reader's Digest..

What the experts have picked for recession tippling: (wonder if these are NYC prices?!)

Scotch: White Horse ($15 750 ml)

Bourbon: Evan Williams Black Label ($12)

Elijah Craig 12 year old ($18)

Old Forester ($19)

Four Roses Yellow ($23)

Gin: Gordon's London ($15)

Vodka: Smirnoff ($13)

Rum: Brugal Anego ($14)

Beer: Hamm's ($3.99 a six-pack)

and allow This expert (my pal Tony in B'more) to recommend:

Whiskey: Pikesville Rye ($13)

Cheers!

Ms. Gin Returns

2009-04-09T09:47:00.000-07:00

My first day back at the bar was a shock after being away at yoga teacher training. Different hours, different everything. But on Tuesday, I realized that life is about opposites. In yoga, we find that in the Shiva/Shakti (male/female) contrasts, exploring our relationships and energy. Both internal and external. And so applying that, bartending and yoga somehow offer me a new found sense of balance and grace.

Something else new happened for me. I tossed around the word boyfriend when talking to male customers, if something came up that would naturally allow for the conversation to go there. Before yoga school, I had a rule of not mentioning my private romantic life, thinking that it detracted from who I was as a bartender. Yoga has taught me to find that inner-balance and to work with my own sexual energy and that I can find restraint and boundaries even when wearing tight, sequined tube tops.

My boyfriend (we'll call him Mr. Gin for now) hung out at the bar the past two nights, helped me work on new recipes, getting involved in bar conversations, and even trying to help me when I shook my shaker shut making a martini. Sigh, I'm a lucky one :)

He's a gin fan and so I wanted to offer him something special, a variation away from his usual gin and tonic. Here's a new favorite courtesy of Cocktails, Culture, and the Art of Drinking Well by Eric Felton:

Bittered Gin Sling

1 1/2 oz. gin

3/4 oz. sweet vermouth (you can also use sherry)

1/2 oz. lemon juice

1/2 oz. simple syrup

a dash or so of Angostura bitters

soda water

Shake all ingredients except soda water in shaker with ice. Strain into highball glass over ice. Add soda water and garnish with a lemon twist.

Then toast someone you love, finding gratitude and joy in your glass as well as your practice, whether it's yoga, mixology, or anything else.

The Ten Dollar Shake

2009-03-21T19:06:00.000-07:00

I was back in DC earlier this week and got to relive one of my favorite cocktails. A Jim Beam Milkshake! You'll find it here. It combines two of my favorite things---ice cream and bourbon. When I asked the waitress if anyone ever ordered a second one, she said no. Now I have a challenge for my next DC trip, but I think the lesson is clear, one is enough.

I'll meditate on that sans booze on my yoga teacher training. And no fellow boozers, the flask will not be accompanying me to Kripalu. This is Ms. Gin wishing you happy drinking and living. Cheers for now until April!

What Causes the Bender? The Key to it all....

2009-03-16T08:14:00.000-07:00

For a bartender, I'm a lightweight. Blame in on the "no shift drinks" allowed policy. Rarely will I drink to get drunk. I'm a one hit wonder when it comes to alcohol. Give me a glass of wine with dinner, a sambuca in a snifter after too much dinner, or one fancy cocktail if going out for drinks, and of course the standard bourbon on the rocks (speaking of, I so wish I could be in London for this!)

So why on why did I agree to go to a 2 for 1 night out last night (beginning at 5 p.m.). Most of the drinks on the menu were vodka based---and I mixed them, the Polish Kiss, the Canadian Bloody Mary, and what?! the Rolo shot! Yes, they do melt Rolos down and wouldn't tell me what else was in there. And then out for sushi and sake afterwards. I should know better.

In fact, we all should. After turning 21 and having our heads in the toilet or elsewhere, why do we treat our bodies in this way? I mean, I do yoga, I'm a vegetarian, I recycle. So why does the drink often sneak up on us? Do we all think we have super hero-style stomachs? Does our mind stop registering what our body is doing?

In college, drinking=FUN. We did it when we were underage because we could. We did it when we were of age, because, well, we could finally do it in public. And now perhaps it's about memory in some way. Aren't they saying 40 is the new 30 and 30 is the new 20? Drinking reminds us of days when we could sleep off a hang-over, blow off a class and kiss whoever we felt like and things didn't matter.

With this economy, business has picked up the past couple weeks at the bar. I've felt a bit like a club bartender at times, almost throwing drinks at people. My last calls have lingered on, people want one more round, one more reason to stay just a while longer.

After work, I usually turn to food (Saturday, so grateful to walk past the 2nd Ave. deli on 33rd and 3rd, and realize they're open until 4 am on Friday and Sat.), but yesterday, perhaps I was thirsty. I wanted to be the one on the other end of the bar. The one who wanted to feel invincible and carefree, or perhaps the one who wanted not to feel, but to just be and yes, I'm sure there are much more yogic ways to feel that than vodka and chocolate. But who doesn't love a little small destruction? If you do, try Key Bar---though what doesn't destroy your wallet, may do double duty on yours truly, so either proceed the 2 for 1 with caution or throw caution to the wind.

Cheers,

Ms. Gin

Bar Napkins, 2

2009-03-12T10:18:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I feel like a character and this proves it. One of my regulars happens to be a very talented artist and I got to watch something magical happen last week while tending. He lost himself in his bar napkin for about 15 minutes and produced this. As a writer, I know the feeling of getting lost in a poem so I got giddy watching him as the pen moved. For now, we'll call him Mr. Gin (as his regular first drink is a Sapphire and tonic).

So, my offer stands for all the artists in the area as well, come out and see me in April and see what happens on a bar napkin. It's a small space, but oh how we love our small spaces in the city.

Bar Napkin Poems

2009-03-10T09:18:00.001-07:00

I'm not going to lie, one of my goals at the bar is to have all my 10 seats filled with writers. Call it a make-shift wish of my own Algonquin roundtable. Or perhaps my own thing to do for National Poetry month coming up. So to get the ball rolling and to entice those writers to come out to Park Ave. in April, here's a poem penned by Amy Lemmon, Molly Peacock (and her rhyming napkin), myself, and Brad Hunter.

Late February

Three poets at a bar in the gloaming

Found, after a glass, their thoughts roaming

They stomached the burger

after their thoughts turned sugar

into new brainfire for poeming.

Where the Drink Comes From: Father Knows Best

2009-03-06T11:55:00.001-08:00

Whenever people come in the bar and ask for a Bloody Mary, I tell them, I make the second best one they'll ever have. My father makes the best one. I'm not going to divulge the secrets here (at least not so soon), but when I think about drinking and where I learned the most before bartending, it's my father. We had a cat named Dewars and I remember liking the taste of scotch at a very young age.

My tastes for alcohol changed as my father's changed. We shifted to bourbon, then manhattans. He added a little cherry juice, one of my trade secrets. We played around with martinis. He was the first person to teach me about apple martinis (bad! but pretty!). We liked the orange ones better---Stoli Oranj, splash of oj, splash of something sparkly---wine or soda depending on what's available. He had a stash of Godiva liquor in the fridge which went great on top of ice cream and Van Gogh Espresso vodka in the freezer. Perfect on the rocks or straight up. But my favorite drink recipe of my father's is what was known on the Bar Rouge menu a few years back: The Down and Dirty. I named it, but dad taught me the recipe. Vodka, olive juice, dash of gin, and a few dashes of tabasco to taste.

Once a woman came into the bar and asked for a Seabreeze (an easy drink, but not ordered as much). She was surprised that I didn't have to ask what was in it. Again, I owe that to my father who made pitchers of them before we went to the community pool. It was the perfect summer drink. Grapefruit is one of my favorite flavors. I used to love The Body Shop's grapefruit shower gel (now I'm more of a Satsuma girl), but one of the new drinks for the spring on the Silverleaf menu (~yes, I just divulged my location~) will involve grapefruit and cinnamon. The inspiration comes from a typical favorite breakfast, half a grapefruit sprinkled with cinnamon. And that's a toss back to college breakfasts with my friend Annie in the student center. I don't remember how we came to add the cinnamon or if that happened years later, but it matters to me that every drink or every recipe has a story or memory. Someone to share, someone to say cheers, to clink glasses with and have a good time.

For me, drinking always is about these kinds of connections. What I drink usually comes from a story, a person who drank it, who cracked open a Rolling Rock and passed it to me, or who procured a bottle of Old Grand Dad whiskey from her purse and said, tonight is a beginning, love.

Breaking the Rules

2009-03-05T10:36:00.000-08:00

Last night I broke one of my "bartender rules." I make them, I set them, and I keep them. They're in place to keep me on the straight and narrow. And to keep my job feeling like a job. And to keep me safe. And then I broke the big rule (not the first time mind you, but...): Do not go out after work with bar patrons (at least until they become regulars and you know them). It's normally common sense and should apply in all situations. Do not go out with someone you met at a club after dancing all night, etc. Trust is something that should be built. Good things take time. There are plenty of adages either way.

However, "Harry," was the father of a teenager, and a rock and roll collector and a MOT. And I was hungry, and he was suggesting Korean food, and it was close by, and well, I was hungry and the conversation was lively. So I went for it. My instinct told me everything would be ok. It was. I had amazing dumplings and something called bipbipbop. And sake. And house made cinnamon tea---which perhaps one day after I become a regular there, may show up in some of my cocktails. And he promised next time he's in town, something signed from my namesake. And now I have a closer, after hours spot for those nights when a late night slice isn't the answer.

Karate Chop

2009-03-03T11:53:00.001-08:00

I'm wondering if this has happened to any other bartenders. You have a busy enough bar, you're making drinks at a faster pace, and then somehow your hand catches a bottle in the well and well, you decapitate it! This is what I ended up doing to the Grey Goose last night. It happened so fast, and I only got a small nick on my right ring finger. No blood. No glass. Picture to prove it. Bar patrons to tell the story. Needless to say, when I did last call last night, everyone listened. hmmm, new tactic?!

How I Became a Bartender, Part 2

2009-02-26T08:01:00.000-08:00

When Morgan called to tell me I was hired a week later, I thought I had won the lottery.

Seriously, I had said. After I bombed the interview?

Apparently being a waitress since I was 16 got me through, that and my "personality."

She told me she could teach me everything she knew and that I was going to be fine.

The drinks on the menu were all named after celebrities so all I had to do was memorize names. A Madonna, 2 J-Lo's, and a Will Smith. It was that easy. I served pretty pink and blue drinks. I didn't really have to know what was in them. I just had to balance them on a tray and wear a skirt.

Those nights were fun. Work didn't really feel like work (it still doesn't most of the time). I mean, who doesn't like to talk to people about who they are and interesting things to do. Back then, my guess is just being a resident of DC got me pretty far with the tourists and the business travelers.

I still consider myself a little bit of a hack bartender (especially after going to Pegu last night). I have to look up things like Grasshoppers and Pimm's Cups every once in a while. I never went to bartending school. But I can carry on a conversation with you, even when I have a full bar. That's what really matters, which is what I think Morgan was getting at, that even if you can make a good cocktail (which will keep me coming back), you have to make good conversation (which will definitely keep me coming back). And yes, Morgan, after almost four years in the industry, I can go double or nothing on that interview. So here's to you for believing in a 25 year old bespeckled professor who failed your first test, miserably.

How I became a Bartender, Part 1

2009-02-24T07:47:00.000-08:00

I had never intended to be a bartender. I had never really known one. Even when I frequented bars, I never really thought about who the person placing my bourbon in front of me was, much in the same way we never really think about the people who serve us things and disappear from our lives. Most of us are ignorant in that way until something makes us change our tune. Mine was coming. I was trying to hold a low-paying non-profit job in DC and balance teaching part-time at the university. Then, one day, my boss said to me: you really seem to love the teaching, but your eyes don't light up in that way when you talk about this job (in my head, I'm thinking, yeah, I manage the database, fascinating!).

My birthday horoscope said: You can't handle a 9-5. That was obvious. I had figured that out a few months after that conversation. I had quit the non-profit job and had one class at GW and had no idea how I'd make my rent. I called my boss at GW and got another class, but still, I had no idea how I would put food in that apartment.

So I returned to my waitressing roots. I applied for a "cocktail server" job posted on Craigslist.

This is how the interview went:

Boss: So you're a professor?

Me: Yes.

Boss: Name five types of vodka.

Me: Um, Absolut, Smirnoff...(trying to come up with other Russian names). I can see it on the counter in a big plastic jug. My father is really good at making Bloody Marys.

Boss: Ok, name five types of gin.

Me: Gin?! My grandpa makes martinis with it. He's only allowed to have one. It sort of smells like pine cones and tastes like perfume. (in my head, I'm so blowing this...)

Boss: Name five types of bourbon.

Me: (finally relieved!) Jack Daniels...

Boss: No, that's Tennessee Whiskey.

Me: (demoralized) that's what I drink and I don't even know anything about it?

Boss: Well, now you know.

It was raining, hard. I went home to my studio feeling absolutely incompetent. Didn't I do shots on my 21st? I thought back to the things that I drank and realized I had no idea what was in them or anything about alcohol. Other than, if you drink too much, it will make you sick (duh!). Luckily, I didn't have any alcohol around in my apartment and it probably would have mocked me if I had. Jack Daniels had betrayed me, or rather, I had betrayed him.