drinkboston.com

Anyone wondering where our best bartenders got the inspiration to revive classic cocktails must read William Grimes’ article on Jerry “the Professor” Thomas in today’s New York Times, “The Bartender Who Started It All.” Specifically, it’s an article on Esquire magazine drinks correspondent David Wondrich’s new biography of Thomas, Imbibe. Grimes, himself a noted food and drink scribe, writes:

“As Mr. Wondrich justly observes, Thomas, by departing from the code of the bartending fraternity and sharing his secrets, earned his place as ‘the father of mixology, of the rational study of the mixed drink.’”

Thomas lived from around 1830 to 1885 and wrote the first bartending book, variously titled the Bar-Tender’s Guide, How to Mix Drinks or The Bon-Vivant’s Companion. Don’t own a copy? You’re in luck, because bartender-blogger Darcy O’Neil of The Art of the Drink has published the Bar-Tender’s Guide (whose copyright has expired) online.

No, 2004 wasn’t a fluke. The Red Sox just won the 2007 World Series. And incidentally, Manny Ramirez knows more about baseball than you do.

Let’s not stop drinking bubbly ’til New Year’s!

In victory, you deserve champagne. In defeat, you need it. — Napoleon

Three be the things I shall never attain: Envy, content and sufficient champagne. — Dorothy Parker

David Ortiz incorporates champagne goggles into everyday uniform — The Onion

Wayne Curtis could be the best drinks/history/travel writer working today. You probably already know this if you have read And a bottle of rum: A history of the New World in ten cocktails. I picked up an autographed copy at Tales of the Cocktail in New Orleans this summer after prancing like a schoolgirl up to Curtis’ table at an authors’ reception and introducing myself as a fan.

He gets that drinking is both a sublime and shiftless pursuit, and he chronicles the history of rum with an appropriate mixture of fondness and cheek. He traces the spirit’s ups and downs, from its origins in the pirate-riddled trade routes between the Caribbean and the Colonies to Medford, Massachusetts’ once-bustling rum distilleries to the long-lived tiki drink craze to today’s cocktail-of-the-moment, the Mojito.

The narrative is engaging and solidly researched. It contains a lot of nuggets surprising even to those who know a thing or two about spirits — like that the daiquiri caught on in Cuba in the early twentieth century because of an ingredient that had only just become widely available: ice. Also, even though I knew the Andrews Sisters song “Rum and Coca Cola,” I had no idea how big that drink was during and after WWII. It marked the early phase of a trend toward bland and sweet drinks that continues to this day with our myriad vodka-based alco-pops. Luckily, the back of the book has several good rum cocktail recipes that serve as an antidote to that silliness.

Incidentally, one of the people Curtis acknowledges in the back of the book is Jeff “Beachbum” Berry, historian and resurrector of tiki drinks and the culture that surrounded them. He talks about his latest book, Sippin’ Safari, and the legitimacy of the original versions of drinks like the Zombie and the Mai Tai, in this recent Salon article. Give it a read while you’re waiting for And a bottle of rum to arrive in the mail.

Sean Holland was back on the stick temporarily last week at the Independent, a neighborhood restaurant well liked by Somervillians. Until he moved to L.A. in June to find fame as a musician, he could be found behind the bar at the Indo most nights of the week. What can I say? Scott and I miss the guy (sniff). As we settled onto our barstools for Sean’s guest appearance (filling in for the just-married Tanya — congrats!), I asked Scott what he was going to have and laughed when he said, “Whatever Sean wants. It’s his night.” Sean plunked a bottle of Saintsbury Pinot Noir and two glasses down on the bar, and off the evening went.

Sean’s a fine server, and I witnessed him hone his mixing skills on vintage cocktails, like the Gin and It, from the Indo’s smart drink menu. That he’s got some chops behind the bar is only the cake. The icing is that he’s highly entertaining, with a sense of humor that’s goofy on the outside and sharp on the inside. Sean and I are both from New Hampshire, and when I asked him once, without preface, which neighboring town he made fun of growing up, he knew immediately what I meant and answered, “Ossipee.” (Sean’s from Sandwich. For me and my fellow Gilford-dwellers, the town to mock was Belmont.) He has a knack for making you feel, even though he’s bringing you food and drink, like he’s just hanging out at the bar with you for some laughs.

Another knack of Sean’s is treating everyone with the same unaffected good humor. Some of the Boston-area’s most accomplished bartenders hang out at the Indo’s pub on their nights off. Sean never stooped to doting on them and forsaking other customers. And that’s one of the reasons they — and we — kept coming back.

Let us know when you’re making your next guest appearance, Sean, and good luck with the career.

It’s time to broach an unpleasant subject: public toilet seats sprinkled with pee. This is caused by women who refuse to sit while urinating and instead hover above the toilet, thus soiling the seat and forcing successive users to adopt the same uncomfortable high-rise position. It’s a problem in all public ladies’ rooms, but particularly those in bars, where trips to the toilet are more frequent. Rock clubs, where I go to see drinkboston.com contributor Scott Howe’s band the Hammond Group, are especially notorious; their bathrooms are heavily trafficked and dimly lit — a bad combo for anyone hoping to keep her bum dry.

We can’t chalk up the annoying behavior of high-risers to alcohol and darkness alone, however. It really stems from an old-fashioned, entrenched, completely unfounded belief that toilet seats are breeding grounds for infectious diseases. To all you dainty dolls afraid to park your precious derrieres on a toilet seat that others’ backsides have touched, I say this: you want to see a breeding ground for infectious disease? Look at your desk. Microbiologists have found four hundred times more illness-causing bacteria on the typical office desktop, with its germ-filled computer keyboard, mouse and phone receiver, than on most toilet seats. Hands, which are out in the world touching everything, and not bums, which are covered by clothing all day, pass the vast majority of bacteria that make people sick. So worry more about the faucet handle in the bathroom than the toilet seat, princess.

Howard Heller, an M.D. and infectious disease specialist at MIT Medical, says, “It’s very difficult to get sick from a toilet seat. A little extra caution might be warranted if one is traveling in an area where enteric infections like cholera are more common.”

In other words, if you find yourself in a public restroom in Angola, you may want to play it safe and hover. Otherwise, sit down on the damn toilet. Please. I mean it. My thighs are killing me.

Are you a parent? If so, you may recognize this situation. A friend of mine has taken to barhopping vicariously through drinkboston.com, given that she has a toddler and an infant and just moved to the ‘burbs. She wrote me an email recently with the subject, “You know you spend too much time at drinkboston.com when…” and a message that continued, “…your 3-year-old organizes a cocktail party in the play kitchen on his second day of pre-school and serves his classmates and teachers lemonade cocktails.”

Isn’t that cute?

The LUPEC Boston Tea Party, which took place on Sunday night, was such a blast that I’m guessing attendees are still cursing the Boston chapter of the Ladies United for the Preservation of Endangered Cocktails. Well, I can only say to them: thanks for helping us preserve those endangered cocktails — and supporting Jane Doe Inc. in the process. Don’t worry, your liver will bounce back in time for our next event. Promise.

Prohibition-era and other vintage cocktails included the Scoff Law, the Mother-in-Law and the Bronx. The ladies also created a new cocktail just for the party called the Flapper Jane (recipe below). They circulated through the crowd with silver pourers, topping up people’s teacups (you know, so the fuzz didn’t know we were drinking hooch). Miss Tess had the boat swinging with her modern-vintage singing, guitar playing and trombone blowing, accompanied by a standup bass.

Yes, I said “boat.” The shindig took place on the Merrimac Queen, a permanently docked riverboat in the North End’s Lewis Wharf. The Boston Sailing Center graciously lent it to us for the cause. In fact, many people in the spirits and food biz, plus several local businesses and friends, donated the goods and labor that made the whole thing possible. Read about them on the LUPEC Boston blog.

The Flapper Jane

1.75 oz Plymouth Gin
.5 oz fresh lemon juice
.75 oz Wu Wei tea-infused simple syrup
dash of Peychaud’s Bitters

Shake in a cocktail shaker, strain into a cocktail glass.

Bartender profile
Everyone seems to know Joe McGuirk. He has tended many a bar in this city for the last 16 years, including the B-Side Lounge, Chez Henri and Green Street. Currently, you can find him at Game On (Fenway) and the new retro-Parisian supper club the Beehive (South End). He freely admits to moving from bar to bar in order to “keep it fresh.” But, like Steve Martin or Alec Baldwin on Saturday Night Live, he returns to his past workplaces fairly regularly for guest appearances. “If you need a shift covered, call McGuirk,” he quips.

McGuirk’s an expert practitioner, as skilled at stirring up a perfect Negroni as he is at cracking open Coors Lights during a Red Sox rush. He has an unusual knack for being comfortable working just about anywhere and an attendant ability to satisfy patrons who range from bike messengers to Brahmins. McGuirk credits his own “Upstairs, Downstairs” life experiences for this. He’s a waitress’ and truck driver’s son who grew up in the genteel town of Concord. He started his own family right out of high school and worked as a line cook while studying English, history and political science at UMass. As if his ease with bar patrons of all stripes wasn’t enough, McGuirk has a good memory for names and details. He understands something a lot of bartenders don’t: “My real bosses are the customers.”

OK, that’s all pretty impressive. But I’m convinced the real reason McGuirk’s famous in his trade, the reason he’s gotten press both locally and beyond, is the Twinkle — that flicker in his eye that both sizes you up and hints at a whole ‘nother dialogue going on beyond the drink-for-cash transaction. Women often interpret it as flirtatiousness. Men might recognize it as a warning against oafish behavior. Whatever. It works wonders.

Hometown
Concord, MA.

Past bartending jobs
I have worked at many bars but the ones that stand out are Chez Henri, B-Side Lounge, Central Kitchen and the Enormous Room, Game On, and the Beehive.

Favorite bar in Boston other than your own
Favorite bar (that I have not worked at) is Eastern Standard.

Favorite bartender(s) in Boston
My favorite bartender of all time is Denny Lewis (retired). My favorite active bartender is Kevin Scott, the James Brown of bartenders. However, there are so many I love.

Most annoying myth about bartenders
That we sleep more than the average person. Friends call at 11:00 a.m. and are shocked to discover we are still in bed. Well, if I worked ’til 4:00 and got to bed by 5:00, then I am only in my sixth hour of sleep. Call after noon, and I promise to stop calling at 3:00 a.m.

The drink you most like to make
The Negroni is the prettiest drink when portions are corrrect, and if you burn the oils off of the orange peel, the smell is great too. But I am happiest when I introduce someone to a drink they have not had but really love. And that comes more from talking with my guests and trying to match them with a drink.

The drink you least like to make
After 3:00 p.m. the Bloody Mary is the most annoying drink. And a dirty martini is the silliest drink. You have to pay for a drink in which half of the spirit has been replaced by the brine of your garnish. Mind blowing.

The drink you most like to drink
Is Budweiser a drink?

If you weren’t a bartender, you’d be…
I probably would be a line cook if I didn’t tend bar. But I wanted to be a zoologist, college professor, sports announcer and the author of the Great American Novel.

Is Boston a good bar town? If so, why?
Boston is a great town for bars. Besides being home to some wonderful old bars and some beautiful new ones, the city has always celebrated its drinkers and the men and women who serve them. And although I am sure other cities do the same thing, it just seems that Boston is big enough to support a great bar scene, with wonderful variety; and small enough for most bars and their bartenders to get the recognition for their efforts. There is a fraternal feeling among the bartenders in this town, and although I might not know each one there is a very strong chance that if you have been doing this for a few years, we are destined to meet. And there is a very good chance that we know a bunch of people in common, whether they are patrons or peers. And the history … didn’t Paul Revere start his midnight ride from a tavern? And didn’t Ray Flynn personally poll his constituency at J.J. Foley’s? Not unlike Ken Reeves doing the same thing at the Green Street Grill?

After having tended bar in San Francisco, I know that Boston respects what we do, our trade, more than they do in SF. And while I like the hours, and I love what I do, it doesn’t hurt to have my community say what I do is a decent way to make a living.