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A reader named Daniel emailed me recently asking what I knew of recent “bartender movement” around Boston, including what has become of the crew at the B-Side. Timely question, Daniel, because Boston drink-slingers are engaged in a lively round of musical bars right now.

Let’s start with the crew at the B-Side, which, it turns out, will not be opening again under new ownership as I wrote earlier. The lounge on the corner of Hampshire and Windsor in Cambridge is officially in limbo. Sad. From what I’ve heard, among the principal bartenders left standing when the place closed, Dave Cagle is heading to Deep Ellum, Al Harding is at the new-and-improved Cafe Marliave (along with ex-B-Siders Jackie Ross and Christopher Duggan, who’s also occasionally at the Indo), Russ is at the Beehive, and Rob … I totally forget where Rob’s going (update forthcoming). While I’m on the subject, the B-Side’s swan song, last Sunday, was an evening of fun insanity, with customers doing their damnedest to drain the place of every last ounce of liquor, and most of the above B-Side alums — plus Joe McGuirk and Claudia Mastrobuono, both now at Highland Kitchen — stepping behind the bar to help out.

As for the other bars with personnel in flux … Misty Kalkofen is moving from Green Street to Drink. That means Drink will now boast a ridiculous roster of talent including Kalkofen, John Gertsen, Ben Sandrof and Josey Packard, among others. Meanwhile, as Daniel informed me, Green Street has lured Emily of Deep Ellum across the river. She joins Andy McNees (formerly of Bukowski and Eastern Standard) and Bice (formerly of B-Side, Deep Ellum, etc.). Tom Schlesinger-Guidelli, who earned renown at Eastern Standard, is now boss of the bar at chef Tony Maws’ new place, Craigie on Main, which is scheduled to open this Friday.

I know I’m missing a few other significant moves, here. I’ll post updates when I get them, along with reviews of Boston’s new star bars Drink, Cafe Marliave and Craigie on Main. In the meantime, best of luck to all you ‘tenders in your new gigs.

If you walk into Eastern Standard next week and wonder who that new kid is behind the bar, count your blessings. His name is Daniel Eun, and he works at PDT (Please Don’t Tell), a speakeasy-style cocktail bar in lower Manhattan. And if you’re wondering where Eastern Standard’s sweet-faced Kevin Martin is, don’t worry. He’s shaking up a few ES cocktails down at PDT. Yep, it’s a bartender exchange.

Jackson Cannon, bar manager at ES, and Jim Meehan, owner of PDT, are sending these two talented, young emissaries to each other’s bars for three nights: Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. At PDT, Kevin will greet a clientele of in-the-know cocktail enthusiasts who enter the bar by ringing a bell on the wall of a phone booth inside a hotdog joint. At Eastern Standard, Daniel will tend to a sprawling mix of cocktail enthusiasts, businesspeople, baseball fans and tourists who enter the place through a clearly marked entrance in bustling Kenmore Square. Both bartenders will bring with them an abridged menu of drinks from their own bars. I, for one, am looking forward to meeting Daniel and ordering one of his cocktails. “He’s pretty feisty, they say. Young and gung-ho,” says Cannon.

Despite the two establishments’ differences, Cannon says that “bars are supposed to be like kitchens — there’s a common language. We’re putting that hypothesis to the test.”

The mastermind behind the bartender exchange is another NYC mixologist, Philip Ward of Death & Co. He helps coordinate the exchanges along with Rob Cooper, distiller of St. Germain Elderflower Liqueur, who as a goodwill gesture provides a small stipend to the bartenders for travel and lodging expenses. These two guys got wind of a “shot war” between Boston and New York bartenders who attended Tales of the Cocktail this year (the only war in which shots of Grey Goose are considered an attack), and figured they might as well nurture that rivalry. Good luck, Kevin and Daniel.

One of the first “best Boston bartender” profiles I did on this site was of Scott Holliday, who then worked at Chez Henri. In addition to being a fine bartender and an intelligent guy, Scott is a founding member of the Jack Rose Society, a mini-guild of Boston-area bar professionals serious about resurrecting vintage cocktails and superior, non-preening service. (Scott could be described as the anti-Tom Cruise.) The JRS’ research into historic recipes, ingredients and techniques, in fact, guided the creation of some Boston-area cocktail menus — those at Eastern Standard and Green Street, for example — that are considered standard-bearers of classic mixology nationwide.

After a nearly two-year sojourn in California and Montreal, Scott is once again tending bar in Cambridge. Hallelujah! He is no longer at Chez Henri, where the estimable Rob Kraemer assumed Scott’s duties on the stick, but at Rendezvous, the Western Mediterranean-inspired restaurant that chef Steve Johnson opened a few years back. Scott is weaving his knowledge and skills into the drink program there, so pay him a visit and enjoy an evening at yet another Boston-area bar out to make a name for itself.

Photos by C. Fernsebner

Joy Richard, bartender-manager at Tremont 647 and Sister Sorel in the South End, also known as Bourbon Belle of LUPEC Boston, won the Hendricks Gin Beantown Bartender Battle at Green Street on Tuesday night with her recipe, Nobody’s Darling, and the limerick she wrote to describe it. Congrats to Joy; she gets to fly anywhere in the country on Hendricks’ dime. Her drink, which will soon be on Tremont 647’s cocktail menu, was a most unique mixture starring the flavor of celery (one of the dozen botanicals used in Hendricks).

Parked at the bar for most of the evening, I was like the misbehaved kid in the back of the classroom ignoring the lesson, so I don’t have much color commentary for you (check out C. Fernsebner’s captioned photo gallery on Bostonist for an idea of how the battle went), but I did manage to track down all five finalists’ recipes — which only the judges got to sample that evening — along with Joy’s winning limerick.

Nobody’s Darling
by Joy Richard

2 oz Hendrick’s Gin
1/2 oz yellow Chartreuse
1 oz angelica root-infused honey
3/4 oz fresh celery juice
1/2 oz fresh lemon juice

Place all ingredients in iced cocktail shaker, shake well and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

An elixir of cucumber and rose
With a scent that amuses the nose
Angelica-honey we’ll pair
Then some celery sounds fair
Yellow Chartreuse, lemon juice and there goes!

The Seersucker
by Chris O’Neil of Upstairs on the Square

2 oz Hendricks Gin
3 oz chamomile syrup (chamomile, orange peel, honey, sugar)
Dash of lemon juice
Mint sprig to garnish

Shake first three ingredients in an iced cocktail shaker, pour into a highball glass, top with mint sprig.

Hendrick’s Tea
by Claudia Mastrobuono of Highland Kitchen

1 1/2 oz Hendricks Gin
1/2 oz orange peel-infused simple syrup
1/2 oz fresh lemon juice
3-4 oz chamomile iced tea (enough to top off the highball)

Shake all ingredients in an iced shaker, pour into a highball glass and garnish with a candied orange peel (the candied peel is a by-product of the simple syrup — just roll the peels in sugar and let them dry out).

Boston Tea Party
by Jeff Grdinich of White Mountain Cider Co.

2 oz Hendricks Gin
1 1/2 oz chamomile citrus tea*
1/2 oz Demerara simple syrup**
1/4 oz lemon juice***
1/2 to 1 barspoon Fernet Branca***

* Infuse 1 bag per 8 oz water for 5 minutes.
** Dilute 400g Demerara sugar in 1000 ml water.
*** Amount of lemon juice and Fernet varies based on tea infusion. Start small.

Place all ingredients in an iced cocktail shaker, shake well and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Note: In the spirit of the competition, which required highlighting the botanicals used in Hendricks, Jeff put one hell of a garnish on his cocktail: a toasted brioche and cucumber sandwich brushed with butter that had been infused with most of the Hendricks botanicals. If you simply must have the recipe for that, email me.

Captain Kidd Cup
by Justin Falcone, freelance bartender

1 1/2 oz Hendricks Gin
1/2 oz pimento dram (St. Elizabeth’s Allspice Liqueur)
1/2 oz Pimm’s
1/2 oz lemon juice

Shake all ingredients in an iced cocktail shaker and pour into a highball glass. Top with ginger beer and garnish with lemon wedge and cucumber spear.

Boston bartenders made an impressive showing in a recent St. Germain Elderflower Liqueur mixology contest at Employees Only in New York City. Congrats to No. 9 Park barman Ben Sandrof for taking first prize, which came with a bounty of $5,000. Ben schooled competitors from some of the country’s best cocktail bars, including Bourbon and Branch in San Francisco, the Violet Hour in Chicago, Dressler in Brooklyn and Seven Grand in L.A.

“I’m totally honored. The amount of talent in that room was pretty remarkable,” he says.

Another Boston competitor, singled out by contest judge and “King Cocktail” Dale DeGroff for her original St. Germain cocktail, was Misty Kalkofen of Green Street. She summarized the competition, which she said “was nerve wracking”:

The first round involed a “written test about spirits. The second round we were presented with four bottles marked A, B, C and D. We had two minutes to taste them and guess what they were. We then had five minutes to pick one of them and make an original creation for the judges. That was tough. Then the last round was building the cocktail you had submitted.”

The last round almost did Ben in. Curdled cream and a broken glass tripped up his first two attempts at mixing his Sureau Fizz within the time limit, but he managed to twist an orange peel over his third attempt just as the horn blew. Nice work, Ben and Misty. You made us proud.

Here’s the recipe for Ben’s winning cocktail, the Sureau (that’s French for elderflower, mes amis) Fizz.

Sureau Fizz

2 oz Beefeater gin
½ oz fresh lime juice
½ oz fresh lemon juice
½ oz simple syrup
1 oz St. Germain
3 drops orange blossom water
1 ½ oz heavy cream
1 fresh raw egg white
1 oz soda water

Method: Shake all ingredients for 10-12 minutes and pour into a collins glass. Top with soda water. Garnish with orange oil.

And here’s the recipe for Misty’s drink:

Summer of Sureau

1 ½ oz St. Germain
½ oz Batavia Arrack
½ oz fresh lemon juice
1/4 oz pineapple syrup*
3 dashes Bittermans Boston Summer Bittahs

Shake over ice and strain into a cocktail glass. *Pineapple syrup: pass fresh pineapple juice through a fine strainer lined with a cone filter (a coffee filter would work, too). Then take the pineapple water and make a syrup that’s two parts pineapple water, one part sugar.

Look, a cool new event!

World Cocktail Day
Tuesday, May 13, 7:00 p.m.
Green Street restaurant, 280 Green St., Central Square, Cambridge
Tickets $35
Reservations recommended: call Green Street at 617-876-1655

This is gonna be fun. On Tuesday, May 13, drinkboston and Green Street restaurant will celebrate World Cocktail Day with a party to benefit the organization that launched the event: the Museum of the American Cocktail. World Cocktail Day is the culmination of a series of international festivities marking World Cocktail Week. We will join revelers in Aspen, Australia, Chicago, New Orleans, New York, San Francisco, Seattle, St. Louis and Singapore.

The Museum of the American Cocktail established World Cocktail Week “to celebrate the rich history of cocktails and recognize the craftsmanship and skill of the bartenders who have been mixing them for over 200 years.” Established in 2005 and forced into limbo by Hurricane Katrina, the Museum reopens on July 21 (right after Tales of the Cocktail) in its original hometown, New Orleans. It will be housed with the Southern Food & Beverage Museum at the Riverwalk Mall, just outside the French Quarter. If you want rock-solid cred within the cocktail community, become a member.

Green Street’s bar manager, Misty Kalkofen, and owner, Dylan Black, and I have invited four notable bartenders to mix and discuss a vintage cocktail of their choice, with a range of styles and eras represented.

Brother Cleve, cocktail historian and mixologist
Bijou (gin, sweet vermouth, green Chartreuse, orange bitters), a Golden Age cocktail dating back to Harry Johnson’s Bartender’s Manual  in 1882, and featured in the 1930 Savoy Cocktail Book of recipes served in London’s Savoy Hotel during American Prohibition.

John Gertsen, principal bartender of No. 9 Park and named one of America’s top bartenders by Playboy magazine
Nicol’s Secret Pisco Punch (pisco, pineapple syrup, lemon juice, water), created in San Francisco in the 1870s using Peru’s clear, unaged brandy.

John Myers, Portland, Maine-based bartender and cocktail historian and co-founder of the Museum of the American Cocktail
Remember the Maine (good rye or bourbon, sweet vermouth, cherry brandy, absinthe or Pernod), described in Charles H. Baker Jr.’s The Gentleman’s Companion, published in 1939. “Stir briskly in clock-wise fashion — this makes it sea-going, presumably!” wrote Baker.

Tom Schlesinger-Guidelli, bartender at Eastern Standard Kitchen & Drinks
Maiden’s Prayer (gin, white rum, lemon juice, Cointreau, orange bitters), based on a variation (circa 1930) of the original (circa 1907), which may have been inspired by a hit piano tune of the late 1800s.

To reserve tickets by credit card, call Green Street at 617-876-1655. Tickets are $35 and include four cocktails and passed appetizers. Green Street is accessible via the Central Square stop on the MBTA red line.

Thanks to the following Museum sponsors for their donations: BarSol Pisco, Cointreau liqueur, Depaz Rhum, Makers Mark, Pernod Ricard and Plymouth Gin.

If you’re a fan of Esquire magazine drinks writer David Wondrich, and you bought his recently published book, Imbibe!, perhaps you’d like to get the book signed by the author himself. On Monday, March 10, Wondrich will be in Boston signing copies of his biography of Jerry Thomas, the father of American bartending. The signing happens from 12:30-2:00 at Stir, chef Barbara Lynch’s demonstration kitchen and cookbook library. Wondrich will join John Gertsen, who works with Lynch at the famed No. 9 Park, later in the evening to teach Stir’s monthly cocktail class. This installment of the class, Winter Warmer Cocktails (aka Who Needs Ice?), is sold out, but there are plenty more in the works — just click on “Calendar” at the Stir website.

“Shake well with ice.”

The vast majority of recipes for straight-up cocktails instruct you to do this, but what does shaking (or stirring) “well” really mean? I occasionally give advice to home bartenders, and the main thing I find myself repeating is, “Shake/stir your cocktail until it’s really, really cold. You can leave a cocktail on ice longer than you think.” People are always surprised to hear this, because they heard somewhere once that bartenders are shiftless characters who will carelessly “water down” your drink unless you keep them on their toes. It’s not until these misguided drinkers have tasted a cocktail that’s been properly watered down, by a skilled bartender who knows his/her way around a shaker, that they realize what they’ve been missing during all those years of drinking tepid, poorly mixed booze.

But I find myself at a loss when the person I’m advising asks, “OK, but for how long do I shake the drink?” Well … it depends on the cocktail, the ice, the vigorousness of the shaking … In short, there’s not really a standard response. So I’m offering here the next best thing: expert advice. I posed these questions to several of Boston’s best bartenders: “How do you gauge when a cocktail’s cold enough — when your hand aches from holding the icy shaker? Do you count the number of shakes/stirs? For the home bartender’s sake, can you estimate the number of seconds (or even minutes) a typical cocktail should take to chill perfectly?” Their responses are below. Read them, and you’ll be able to wow the guests of your next cocktail party by demonstrating a “dry integration shake.”

NOTE: I didn’t really get into the whole matter of different types of ice, which some bartenders obsess over in their quest for the perfectly chilled drink. (That’ll be the subject for another day — this post’s long enough). That said, if you don’t have a Lewis Bag in your house, make sure you read to the end.

Rob Kraemer, Chez Henri

I go ’til my hand sticks to the shaker, probably under 20 seconds if shaking hard. Too long dilutes the drink fast, but I’m interested to see what other responses you get, as I don’t even think about it.

Ben Sandrof, No. 9 Park

As far as shaking a drink, I usually give egg drinks about a minute of shaking, unless of course it’s a fizz, in which case it’s a bit longer. If it’s a stirred cocktail, about 20 seconds does the trick. The key is that we are looking for approximately 20 to 30 percent ice melt in the cocktail, as well as the appropriate amount of chill. I could be a real nerd and tell you that there is a thermometer on hand to make sure the drinks are, as finished products, between 28 and 30 degrees, but let’s not go there yet…

Brother Cleve, freelance mixologist and cocktail historian

“When your hand aches from holding the icy shaker.” That’s really when I put it down. I recall going to the Blackbird in NYC when Dale DeGroff and Audrey Saunders were the bartenders, back in the late ’90s. I was really impressed with Dale’s shaking technique (over the shoulder, very fluid movements, and for a long time). I asked him about the length of time he would shake for, and he explained that he felt that the longer shaking time added, and mixed, the additional water the drink required to be balanced, especially since they used pretty large ice cubes. Generally, frost on the metal shaker indicates that it’s ready. I guess it works out to be a minute or two. I’ll shake longer if there’s dairy or eggs involved.

If I’m shaking with crushed ice, I do it for less time, as it adds more water at a more rapid rate. Same thing with blender drinks. Most tropicals should be done at high speed for five to 10 seconds, max.

Tom Schlesinger-Guidelli, Eastern Standard

In all honesty, I would say that both shaking and stirring are, at this point, second nature. It is really about feel, tasting a drink … is it balanced? Does it need more water to balance it out? Shaking or stirring are, at their most basic, about waterizing. I would say, in most scenarios, it is not necessarily about getting “appropriately cold” (though that is a wonderful secondary side effect). Instead, I think about properly waterizing that drink first, and how that usually offers you the proper temperature.

There are a number of different of types of shakes as well, each depending on what it is you are actually shaking. Many of Boston’s bartenders use a “dry shake” [a shake without ice, usually followed by a shake with ice] on egg drinks, arguing that it creates better texture in a drink. Some of us don’t necessarily buy into that philosophy. Then there is the “integration shake,” basically a quick two or three shakes, used to make the different liquids come together better. It’s one we use a lot, both for drinks like the Whiskey Smash, which ends up being strained over crushed ice, and for a lot of sparkling cocktails, like the Belle du Jour or even a French 75. In the Whiskey Smash example, you even use one further breakdown, a dry integration shake. It is for this reason that I think it is really hard to give an answer to “how long?” With a sort of mainstream everyday cocktail it is probably in the range of 30 or so shakes, maybe somewhere around 20 seconds.

In terms of stirring, I usually teach new bartenders to stir their cocktails until the shaker frosts over. That, to me, is kind of an easier distinction, particularly if you are stirring out of a [metal] shaker rather than a glass.

Now, a piece of advice from little old me: Before you make a cocktail at home, crack your ice. The cubes from your standard freezer tray are nice and hard and dense — much better in quality than most “quick-melt” bar ice, I’ve heard bartenders say — but, with their smooth surfaces, they’re a little too slow to melt in your shaker. So empty a tray of cubes into your Lewis Bag, and give the bag a few hard wacks with the accompanying wooden mallet. Cracked ice + ample shaking/stirring time = great cocktails.

I have never met Walt Mates, but I plan to someday. Walt tends bar at Bistro La Belle in Midway, Kentucky. He is a fan of drinkboston, and I’d be lying if I said that didn’t influence my admiration of him. That and the fact that he stumbled upon this blog while researching the Saratoga cocktail. And the fact that his late father is from Somerville.

But what I really like about Walt is that he started his bartending career in midlife, after the bookstore he owned closed down a couple of years ago. Instead of being bitter about the transition, he found that he loves his new line of work. “I am very fortunate and thankful to have a boss who backs me 100 percent in offering carefully crafted classic cocktails using all fresh ingredients,” he says. And he likes his customers and co-workers, too! But recently, Walt emailed me to confide that he’s been feeling a bit peeved lately. He has been grappling with an issue that I think all bartenders deal with. He refers to it as “status anxiety.” Here’s what he wrote:

“I have already told you that what I have enjoyed the most about drinkboston are the interviews with and profiles of Boston’s best bartenders. What has struck me about so many of these individuals is that they seem to be Jacks and Jills of many trades and possess really varied and truly interesting backgrounds.

“I have been tending bar for a year and a half now, specializing in classic cocktails. Guests of the restaurant and my boss have been pleased and impressed with the drinks I prepare. And I can honestly say that I love my job. I treat and consider it as a craft and a profession. But I am beginning to experience a little status anxiety.

“Some people here in town who respected and eagerly interacted with me as a bookstore owner now treat me as a service worker. And while I realize that only shows how puny THEY are, at times I feel like shouting, ‘I am more than just a bartender!’ For heaven’s sake, your friend Misty is a Harvard Divinity School grad! As much as I love the job, I have been wondering whether it is ‘enough’ for me personally and professionally.

“To boil it down, I was wondering whether some of the bartenders you know, who have done and accomplished many different things over the course of their lives, have expressed this same restlessness.”

“Let’s put your question on the blog,” I said to Walt, and he agreed. So, bartenders, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Do some customers look down on you because you are a “mere” service worker? Do you ever feel the need to mention that you have other pursuits beyond mixing and serving drinks? Or do you simply dismiss as misguided anyone who believes that it’s impossible to find professional fulfillment behind a bar? Weigh in by leaving a comment below, or, if you’d rather not, email your words of wisdom to me and I’ll add them to the mix. Thanks!

By MC Slim JB

With this post, drinkboston introduces a new guest contributor, MC Slim JB. MC is a Boston-based writer whose honest, sharp restaurant reviews and food/drinks features have appeared in Boston Magazine, the Boston Phoenix, stuff@night, and the Weekly Dig. MC is also a frequent contributor to the restaurant review website Chowhound.

As a cocktail lover, I often sing the praises of my favorite bartenders’ technical chops: their ability to assemble well-balanced cocktails with speed and precision from the best and freshest ingredients, and to serve them with the right garnish, in the right glass, at the right temperature. But those skills are learnable. With enough training and practice, just about anybody can do those things well. A less transferable skill is the hospitality aspect of bartending, the person behind the stick’s ability to make each customer feel welcome, comfortable and well cared for.

I tried to think of a few small things that my favorite bartenders do that make me happy about my experience in their bars, and — having gotten accustomed to this kind of hospitality — that make me unhappy in places that don’t do them. Here are a few:

1. Acknowledge my presence with a word, a look or a nod when I first walk up to the bar. This way I know, even when it’s crazy-busy, that you’ll eventually get to me. That tiny bit of reassurance that I haven’t been lost in the crowd or deliberately ignored makes a big first impression.

2. Take the time, if you can spare it, to share my love of fine cocktails by talking with me about them. I love to hear more about the drink you’ve made me, the spirits and other ingredients that go into it, interesting variations on it, the lore and history surrounding it, who else makes a great one in town, suggestions for other cocktails you think I might like. I want my bartenders to share my fascination with cocktails and to be scholarly and passionate about their work, not just mechanics on an assembly line. (And for my friends who don’t care about that stuff, make and serve their drinks without fanfare or foofaraw.)

3. If I’m by myself, facilitate some interaction with other patrons. Share a story, talk up the game on the TV, make an introduction. Drinking isn’t much fun as a solitary sport, but not everyone is at ease striking up conversations with strangers, especially when traveling or in an unfamiliar venue. The bartender is in a unique position to bridge those social gaps, to help solo patrons feel a little less lonely and, incidentally, to offload some of the burden of entertaining them and so better tend to other customers.

4. When it’s time for me to go, give me an accurate check and bring my change or credit slip promptly. This is my last impression of your service before I leave a tip. It’s a good step to execute crisply.

There are hundreds of other little things that get bartenders onto my “awesome” list. Although thousands of people pass through his bar, Rob at the B-Side manages to remember my usual, even when I haven’t been by in months. No matter how busy it is at the bar at No. 9 Park, John always shakes my rye flip for five minutes. (Try this with a full shaker sometime to see how much work it is.) At Sasso, Casey invariably finds a way to get a conversation going between me and the rest of the bar. Every time I go by Green Street, Dylan has some innovative new concoction he’s itching to pour for me while expounding on its backstory. Sure, these folks are all great cocktail technicians, but it’s the way they make me feel like an important customer that inspires my loyalty. That’s what makes throngs of devotees follow them wherever they work. Hospitality skills are what separate the merely competent bartenders from the great ones.