Why Stories? Why Doodles?
The most straightforward answer is that I wasn't happy with what I saw in regards to cocktails on social media.
There are so many photos of cocktails out there. I used to take them too (see below), but I got to the point of not enjoying the drinking part anymore. Almost as if the photograph steals the soul from the cocktail. When you are making a cocktail, you have to think about balance, texture, dilution. When you photograph a cocktail, no one gets to taste those things, and instead, you think about lighting, shutter speed, and white balance.
To me, this started to seem silly. Yes, we drink with our eyes first, but cocktails are more sensory than that. They emit a smell. They are cold (or warm) to the touch. They have a taste. Leaving the photograph to convey all that information didn't make sense to me, so I stopped taking pictures of them. The two above were the last ones.
Another thing that was missing for me was a story. The why of a cocktail. One of my favorite bartenders, Colin Field, of the tucked away Bar Hemingway at the Hotel Ritz in Paris, likes to say, "nobody walks into a bar thirsty." This begs the questions what are all these cocktails for and why?
Not being able to answer, I took it upon myself to write fictional stories about a man who makes and drinks cocktails. He isn't a bartender, just a regular guy. My first few attempts were a bit shaky. Instagram limits the number of characters you can use in a caption to 2,200. It is hard to get a whole story to fit that little space, so I settled on the vignette or sketch story, and within those constraints, I found my style.
One of the fun things about writing fiction is that you get to polish up real-life experiences. For example, the character in all my stories for the last few years lived in a tall downtown Chicago highrise. I did too, but his building had a fancy doorman. Mine did not. He also has a more expensive watch than I do and his shoes are always polished— unless I need them to be scuffed for the story.
A cocktail is much more than a recipe, and it is why I have a hard time giving exact measurements for things. I used to be such a stickler for precision, and as my writing evolved, my cocktails relaxed, but I don't think they lost any vibrancy.
Recipes can have steps that don't have to do with actually making the thing you are making. Take Miles Davis' chili recipe. It has all the regular stuff (aside from the fact that he ate it with spaghetti), but the last step is: open a Heineken. It is included in the ingredients list but has nothing to do with the chili. It was just how he liked it. Who doesn't love a cold beer after cooking? Miles sure did, so he included it in the recipe, and it gives the reader a feel for the how and why.
Taking his suggestion, my Sazerac recipe instructs the maker to put a jazz record on before making the drink. Specifically Kind of Blue by Mr. Davis and even more explicitly finding track three, Blue in Green. It sets the mood and sets the pace for making the drink. Rarely do I drink cocktails without music, and thusly neither does the character in my stories because it sets the scene. It gives the cocktail a soundtrack.
You know what, how about a cocktail break? Are Sazeracs good with everyone?
The Immortal Sazerac
First, find a good jazz record. I would recommend Kind of Blue by Miles Davis. Drop the needle at track three (Blue in Green). That’s better. Now we can get started.
In the heavy-bottomed glass you will eventually be drinking out of:
Pack fully with crushed ice and a small pour of Absinthe (or anything else similar like a pastis or Herbsaint). Not only will this chill the glass but it will also louche the Absinthe. This is a step I think is critically missed with the “rinsing” of glasses.
Simple Syrup 7.5 ml
Peychaud’s Bitters 7 Dashes
Angostura Bitters 1 Dash
Bonded Rye 30 ml
Cognac 30 ml
Lemon Peel: Express and Discard
Build this drink in a mixing glass or another rocks glass. Add ice and stir to chill and dilute. Listen to Miles playing in the background. Dump out the glass full of crushed ice and Absinthe. You can toss it in the air for old times sake but do not yell "Sazerac!" as some recipes call for. You are indoors. Also, remember to catch the glass on the way down. Strain the mixture into the chilled and aromatized glass and twist a lemon peel over it and be rid of the peel.
All of this is a roundabout way of asking: why do you drink cocktails? Why do you drink anything?
For me, I need more than a pretty picture. I need a story. Where would the fictional James Bond be without the Martini or the better question where would the Martini be without Mr. Bond? Ian Flemming was able to build an entire franchise around a cocktail and a story. Like that notorious cocktail, vermouth and spirit are undoubtedly better together than they are apart. Cocktails and stories are better together too.
Writing a story is the only way to tell you the reader/viewer what the cocktail feels like at the exact moment—the smells, the taste, the why, and the how.
So why the doodles?
That one is easy. I am not good at drawing. My original doodles were terrible— flat out terrible. They made me uncomfortable. Here are a few examples from the beginning:
You see, I am very good at making cocktails. I did it professionally for a decade. Most people aren't good at making cocktails because they don't do it often, and they don't do it for thousands and thousands of different patrons over ten plus years. People feel uncomfortable with the tools and uncertain about measuring for fear of spilling. Unsure about shaking for fear of getting the tins stuck together. They are afraid.
I wanted to show those people that even though I was afraid of drawing, I was going to jump in with both feet. Natural talent can only get you so far, and I have little, if any, when it comes to drawing. I don't even call it drawing to this day— just doodles!
So if I can improve at something I have no business doing in the first place, it means anyone at home can learn how to make great cocktails!
Thanks for reading.
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