When it comes to bartenders, which drinks separate the masters from mere mixologists?
By RUTH TOBIAS | December 8, 2006
You may be a mighty fine scribbler, but until you’ve penned a sestina, you’ve got no business calling yourself a poet. Perhaps you’re a talented cook — but you’re no chef until you’ve sweated over your first galantine (or is that a ballotine? You’d better be sure). And as for you actors, you’re all just hams without at least a little Shakespeare under your belts. In short, every profession possesses yardsticks by which to measure its craft — and you can bet every professional’s going to whip them out to show amateurs what’s what.Granted, in the bartending world, these yardsticks tend to be somewhat flexible. After all, alcohol and total accuracy don’t exactly mix. No wonder, then, that the origins of so many cocktails remain apocryphal; no wonder debates rage over authentic recipes and precise definitions. And no wonder it’s so much fun to get bartenders started on the question: which concoctions separate the men and women from the boys and girls? Which drinks make masters of mere mixologists?
To give credit where it’s due, this line of inquiry might not have occurred to me if not for a recent conversation at the bar at Anise (1 Kendall Square, Building 300, Cambridge, 617.577.8668) with beverage director Frank Reardon. Asked by my dining companion — himself a consummate cocktail connoisseur — for a Negroni, Reardon recalled that he’d obtained a prior position at No. 9 Park based on his knowledge of the recipe.
 Anise's Frank Reardon |
Later, after pondering the implications of his remark, I pressed Reardon — who’s best known for his stint at Jasper White’s Summer Shack, where he ran Frankie’s Sports Bar — to elaborate on his own standards. “I think of a Negroni, a Sidecar, a Pisco Sour . . . There are probably 10 bartenders in town who know how to do ’em,” he said. “For them, it’s their life, it’s their passion to make great drinks, the way great chefs are passionate about making great food. You can make dinner so complete with a great drink.” To this, I could testify based on my Anise experience alone; flanking an excellent meal of spicy wild-fern stalks and twice-cooked pork belly were Frank’s French Connection ($7) — a sprightly, vodka-based blend of anise and citrus — and the refreshing twist on a classic that is the orange mojito ($7).
And yet a well-made cocktail is one of the last things you’d expect to get at a Sichuan restaurant. Is it possible, I asked Reardon, to judge a bar and its keepers at face value, before committing to a round? Absolutely, he says. “When you walk into a restaurant, the first thing you should look at is the bar. I look at that every single time. I look at their well to see what they’re using. My bar [stocks] only high-end liquor. I don’t have everyday stuff. So when I’m hiring, I want [prospective employees] to be up to the same standards as my bar.”
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