Archive for the ‘Bartenders’ Category
August 22nd, 2009
Joe McGuirk, one of Boston’s best-known bartenders, told me once, “My real bosses are the customers.” Wow. How refreshing. Joe’s philosophy stands in stark contrast to the bartenders I’ve encountered who have treated their customers like wayward pre-schoolers, annoying trespassers or unruly mobs (not that those characterizations aren’t sometimes true). It made me think: wouldn’t it be great for customers if more bartenders viewed them as employers? And then I thought, wouldn’t it also be great for bartenders if more customers thought of them as employees?
Don’t get the wrong idea. When I invite you, the customer, to view yourself as your bartender’s boss, I’m not talking about the dictatorial, fickle type of boss. I’m talking about the collegial, diplomatic type of boss, the boss who knows that attracting and retaining talent means treating workers fairly and with respect, and rewarding them for doing a good job. Being good to someone to get what you want is not exactly a radical concept, but it’s something the human race has always struggled to get right. And it works really well in bars. Serve your bartender well, and he (or she, as is implied from here on out) will serve you well.
Even before I started blogging about bartenders, I had a good rapport with them. First, I simply like being in bars (if you think about it, not everyone in a bar is psyched to be there), so I’m a pretty content customer to begin with. And I used to be a bartender, so my empathy for these people is pretty strong. But the rapport also stems from my adherence to some basic rules. They’re ridiculously obvious — or so you’d think.
Be considerate. It’s more than being polite with your pleases and thank-yous. In a busy bar, it’s knowing your order and stating it clearly when the bartender gets to you. It’s not saying, “Yo!” or waving a $20 at the bartender to get his attention. It’s being judicious about placing special orders. It’s refraining from, even if you know the bartender and have his cell phone number, texting him your order instead of waiting your turn. It’s asking for a shot and a beer instead of a Ramos Gin Fizz when the crowd is four deep.
Tip well. At least 20 percent of the total. I know, you’re supposed to tip on the pre-tax subtotal, but hey, this is about attracting and retaining talent, right? For me, this rule applies to, like, 99 percent of bar tabs. The other one percent are occasions when the service is scandalously indifferent or hostile, in which case those bastards are only getting 15 percent from me. Then there are those times when you get treated like a dignitary or celebrity, complete with a heartfelt compliment, a free round or two and a surprise appetizer. This is when you tip 25 to 30 percent on the would-be total of your bill. Finally, if you plan on spending the evening in a crowded rock club or similar situation where everyone’s clamoring for drinks and money changes hands every round, tip heavily on the first round. Like, if you order a shot and a beer and it comes to $10, leave $15. I guarantee the bartender will pick you out of the crowd the next time you go to the bar.
Manage your expectations. The odds of getting great drinks and great service at a bar are better now than they’ve been probably since the golden age of cocktails. Hallelujah! But we all realize that most bars still lack one or both of these luxuries. Sometimes we find ourselves at those bars, and that’s when we have to be that flexible type of boss who can make the best of a semi-competent, semi-disgruntled workforce.
It should be pretty obvious what kind of drinks and service you can expect as soon as you walk in the door of an unfamiliar bar. Chain restaurant off a highway? That bartender’s probably been on the job for all of two weeks and will last maybe another two. Wipe the previous customer’s crumbs off the bar yourself, grab your own cocktail napkin, and order a beer in a bottle. Fashionable new lounge with VIP bottle service? Don’t try to order an Aviation. Don’t even order the Melon Basil-Tini off the menu, as it will be served straight-up and lukewarm. Instead, fall back on one of your safety drinks or a glass of champagne, and have fun observing the mating habits of twenty-something trust-funders. Dive bar with surly regulars suspicious of newcomers? The bartender’s probably ornery, too, but just keep quiet, order a shot and a Bud, leave a solid tip on the first round, and he’ll warm up to you.
Of course, even the best bartenders can have a bad shift. If you walk into your fave cocktail bar on a Saturday night and observe what industry folk call a shit show, and if your plans mandate that you stick around, well … just pick your corner and watch the chaos. Waiting 15 minutes for a drink while observing the sweat fly behind the bar is a great way to understand what kind of hustle is required of a top-notch bartender. And if you can manage to be a patient, considerate, big-tipping boss in contrast to the unruly mob, you will reap the rewards.
Tags: customer behavior
Posted in Bartenders | 9 Comments »
June 26th, 2009
Bartender profile
By the time I first encountered Ben Sandrof, a few years ago when he was working at the Charles Hotel’s chichi lounge, Noir, he had already done time at a few other high-end restaurants around Harvard Square, most notably Upstairs on the Square. His first bartending job, however, was in a Monterey, California, pub called the Britannia Arms. That is where, he says, “I learned to be fast.” In a not-uncommon trajectory, Sandrof started out in the restaurant industry with thoughts of becoming a talent in the kitchen, only to morph into a talent behind the bar.
Learning the fundamentals of speed is crucial for any bartender, but it has particular importance at Sandrof’s current place of employment, Drink. “Banging out” craft cocktails — with custom ice, muddled fresh herbs, house-made bitters and flawless technique, and with only the customer’s whim as a guide — is kind of a contradictory phrase, but it describes what Sandrof does at this marquee watering hole. I favor the nights when the place is bustling but not insane, and he has a few minutes to pour me a sample of milk punch he made, or tell me that he happens to be the grandson of Benjamin Ferris, the late Harvard doctor who pioneered air-pollution research.
My first impression of Sandrof was that “he’s a suave guy, which I mean in the good sense, i.e. ‘effortlessly gracious.'” That assessment holds. He is confident — some might say cocky — in his skills, which has yielded only good results for this customer. I give him the vaguest outlines of what I feel like drinking, and somehow he manages to set something exquisite down on my bar napkin every time.
Hometown
Lincoln, MA.
Past bartending jobs
Upstairs on the Square, Middlesex Lounge, Noir, No. 9 Park, Drink.
Favorite bar in Boston other than your own
Eastern Standard.
The drink you most like to make
Mint Julep.
The drink you least like to make
Dirty __________.
Most beloved bartending book
Jerry Thomas’ Bar-Tenders Guide.
If you weren’t a bartender, you’d be…
Out in the woods somewhere trying to distill whiskey.
People drink too much…
Flavored vodka.
People don’t drink enough…
Gin.
Drink for a rainy day
Rum Old Fashioned.
Least appreciated alcoholic beverage in Boston
Anything with tiki inspiration.
Most overrated alcoholic beverage in Boston
Anything that ends with -tini that is not a proper Martini.
The best thing about drinking in Boston
The cocktail culture is expanding rapidly. We have lots of creative bartenders.
The worst thing about drinking in Boston
Public transportation stops before the bars close.
Tags: Ben Sandrof, Drink
Posted in Bartenders | 6 Comments »
May 21st, 2009
Staying in town this weekend? Then stop by Burton’s Grill on Boylston St. Saturday between 11:00 and 3:00 for the first annual B4 (Boston’s Best Brunch Bartender) Challenge. The event, whose proceeds will go to I Hate Cancer, pits nine bartenders from nine different Boston neighborhoods against each other in a mix-off. The winner gets to showcase his or her cocktail on Drink this! a new segment on NECN’s TV Diner, whose co-host, Jennie Johnson, will emcee the B4 Challenge. The thing I like about all this, besides the good cause it’s benefiting, is that I will be one of the judges. Sweet.
You don’t need to buy tickets or make a reservation, just show up, order a drink and a plate of eggs, and enjoy the festivities. The sponsor of B4 is Absolut Mango vodka, which means that all of the competing cocktails will contain this spirit. I know what many of you are thinking. ‘Flavored vodka? Lame.’ But I like the idea of bartenders starting with any prescribed cocktail ingredient and creating something interesting and tasty with it. Here are the contestants and their bars (good luck to all):
- Michael Ahearn, Stella
- Jackson Cannon, Eastern Standard
- Janessa Davis, Boston Beer Garden
- Mike Doyle, Harvard Gardens
- Joe Kin, Florentine
- Chris Little, Burton’s Grill
- Matt Stricos, Stephanie’s on Newbury
- Katrina Turner, Red Sky
- Paul Westerkamp, 33 Restaurant
Hope to see you there!
Tags: B4 Challenge, bartending contest, Brunch, Burton's Grill
Posted in Bartenders, Boston bars, Brunch, Vodka | 9 Comments »
May 20th, 2009
When was the Rob Roy invented? Which region of Armagnac is considered to produce the finest brandy? At what point in history did people begin distilling beer and wine to produce spirits? What volume of liquid does a standard barspoon hold?*
These are the kinds of things I had to know in order to pass BarSmarts Advanced, a spirits and mixology class conceived by BAR (Beverage Alcohol Resource) LLC and sponsored by the U.S. unit of Pernod-Ricard SA (whose many brands include Absolut, Wild Turkey, Beefeater, Plymouth, Martell and Chivas Regal). It’s a four-week course with four online quizzes that test you on material from a 68-page workbook full of info on the nature and history of spirits and cocktails, plus bartending tools and technique. Passing the four quizzes earns you a spot at BarSmarts Live, a.k.a. the final exam, which involves a 100-question written test (complete with blind evaluation of spirits) and a practical section where you are asked to mix three cocktails out of a possible 25 in 10 minutes.
Whew.
May 6 was the day of reckoning here in Boston. About 100 bartenders and liquor-industry folk from all over New England, with a sprinkling of writer types like me, gathered in the Colonnade Hotel for the exam, which was preceded by a morning of seminars supplementing the stuff we learned over the past month. The $65 fee for the course suddenly seemed amazingly cheap when I learned that all of BAR’s primary instructors had traveled up from New York to administer this thing: Dale DeGroff, Doug Frost, Steve Olsen, F. Paul Pacult, Andy Seymour and David Wondrich. Not only are these guys impressive (check out their bios on the BAR website), they’re a good time. I mean, you’ve got problems if you’re teaching spirits and mixology for a living and aren’t having fun, but this group is notable for its combined depth of knowledge and breezy attitude toward the subject at hand. After all, what they’re essentially doing is helping everyone have a better time in bars.
Preparing myself for the practical part of the exam was nerve-wracking, given that the last time I worked in a bar Fuzzy Navels and Slippery Nipples were popular (what a weird era). I actually mixed all of the Classic 25 Drinks Every Bartender Should Know, to the workbook’s exact specifications, in my kitchen one night. Bloody Mary and Dry Martini, meet Pisco Sour and Irish Coffee. I am glad I did this. When my evaluator for the practical, Dale DeGroff — who had just won the James Beard award for best wine and spirits professional — ordered a Caipirissima (a Caipirinha with rum instead of Cachaca), a Manhattan and a Margarita on the rocks, I cranked them out pretty smoothly. Thank god I wasn’t being judged on flair; nothing like a silent, methodical bartender to get the party going.
There were some glitches over the course of the four weeks, namely with the online quizzes. Compared to other cities that have participated in the program, Boston quickly distinguished itself by the number of complaints lodged about quiz results that were flawed or downright incorrect. Confession: I was one of the nerds who emailed the administrators screen shots of my results as proof. Hey, the upside was that we helped BarSmarts do some crucial website de-bugging!
The funny thing is, I almost turned down the invitation to take the course. A friend who had taken BAR’s 5-Day course in New York prodded me to sign up. “Can’t do it. Way too busy,” I whined. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer. At one point, he emailed me:
Remember that part in Oceans 11 where they all go meet at Roman’s house & Matt Damon is kind of sitting outside at the pool trying to decide to go inside or not after Clooney tells them all what they’re in for? And Roman comes over & talks to him for a minute & then shoves him inside ’cause he really didn’t have a choice anyway ’cause it was the right thing to do? You’re Matt Damon & I’m Roman. Get in the house.
So I did. And I passed. Of course, I have no plans to work behind a bar again. But at least I’ll know what the hell I’m talking about when I scold a bartender for putting ice in my Gin Fizz.
(*BarSmarts answers: 1890-1900. Bas Armagnac. 500-300 B.C. 1/8 oz.)
Tags: BarSmarts Advanced, bartending school, mixology course, training
Posted in Bartenders, Books & resources | 11 Comments »
April 20th, 2009
Bartender profile
Andy McNees is one of those rare specimens who gets away with being a wise-ass. That’s because the smirk he greets you with has a way of turning into a grin that reveals his flip side: loveable dork. He freely admits to this persona, even offering proof: he has been involved for four years running in a Dungeons and Dragons game with several restaurant-industry colleagues. (“D&D is the new poker,” he declares.) He politely declines to reveal the identities of his co-gamers.
McNees’ current gig is at Green Street, whose neighborhood-hangout vibe and classic cocktail-focused bar are a good fit for someone who has worked in spots both cool (B-Side, Bukowski) and classy (Eastern Standard). With a tall, lanky guy’s stride and a long reach, he moves fast without seeming to, and he adjusts seamlessly from the customer who wants a shot and a beer to the one ordering a complicated egg cocktail. Also, though he doesn’t broadcast it, he’s a huge sports fan. If you catch him during a lull and want to talk old-school stats (Honus Wagner’s 1904 batting average, anyone?), you’re in luck.
And if you’re curious about what it’s like to grow up in Oak Ridge, Tennessee (a town built in the early 1940s as a base for the Manhattan Project), the son of Army folk and the grandson of a nuclear physicist, you can ask him about that, too.
Hometown
Oak Ridge, Tennessee.
Past bartending jobs
B-Side, Bukowski (Cambridge), Eastern Standard, 608, Zuzu, Kings.
First drink you ever had
A can of Budweiser.
Favorite bar in (greater) Boston other than your own
Charlie’s Kitchen.
Best Boston bar(s) to watch sports in
Charlie’s Kitchen.
If I weren’t a bartender, I’d be…
An astronaut.
A bartender’s best friend is…
A church key.
A bartender’s worst enemy is…
Broken glass.
Dumbest thing you’ve heard in a bar
“No Coors Light? OK, I’ll have a dirty Belvedere martini.”
Most profound thing you’ve heard in a bar
I can’t remember, but I probably said it, and I was probably drunk.
What you say at last call
Anything I have ever said at last call was completely lifted from, or indirectly influenced by, watching Joe “Steamboat” McGuirk. He’s pretty good at it. Nicole from Eastern Standard has my favorite “last call face.”
Main difference(s) between drinking in Boston and in Tennessee
Last call is later in the Volunteer State. Buying a suitcase of Budweiser at 2:57 a.m. from the corner 7-11 gives Tennessee a pretty sweet edge. However, if your bag is “craft cocktails” and you live in Rocky Top, you might be mixing drinks in your basement. A couple years back a buddy of mine from high school came to Boston for a week, and I turned him on to Fernet [Branca] pretty hard. After returning home he spent nearly a year combing the Southeast for the black eagle. I think he finally found some in Key West. Lucky for me, when I went home last Christmas a local liquor store had started carrying it, and my buddy liked to buy it… So we drank Fernet and played darts under the lights of his Christmas tree. Also, I have redneck friends back home whose family members make white lightning.
Least appreciated alcoholic beverage in Boston
Rum is pretty awesome. During the summer an ice-cold Miller Lite draft at Eastern Standard is pretty amazing. I kinda want to pour it down my pants, especially if Kit is working. Also, I really like Fighting Cock Bourbon.
Most overrated alcoholic beverage in Boston
Sam Adams.
Tags: Andy McNees
Posted in Bartenders | 6 Comments »
