How to be a barman, lesson two

RICHARD EHRLICH'S
Sunday, 2 February 1997

It goes to show just how wrong you can be. I thought that learning the
bartender's craft would take me years of patient study, yet I learned it all in a
few evenings. Unfortunately, I didn't understand half of what I learned. Being
a cocktail bartender means having good taste, a cool head, and thousands of
hours of experience.
Memorising endless recipes is less important. Danny Fierstone, ex- barman of
Detroit (where I've been receiving cocktail instruction), speaks of a guy who
knew 400 recipes. "The only problem," adds Danny, "was that he couldn't make
any of them well."
At Detroit, taste is king. When a barman finishes a complicated cocktail, he
dips a straw in and tastes the drink himself. Even if he's never made that drink
before, and even if he doesn't actually like it, he will know whether it's good. If
it isn't, he will correct it.
They can do that because they understand the basic principles. There may be
thousands of cocktails in the world, but most are based on a small number of
ideas. Master those ideas and you can make anything.
My experience of hanging out with professionals certainly bears that out. Of
course, it's easy for them: they've got the experience. Boneheads trying to
get a crash course (like yours truly) will find the abstract principles baffling.
My cocktail guru Dick Bradsell, head barman at Detroit, tried to simplify using
diagrams, showing how the principal flavours of a drink are brought together by
ancillary flavourings, and when he draws his diagrams (usually on a napkin) you
think you've seen the light. But try to duplicate the results yourself and - well,
it doesn't look so easy. Dick and his team did a lot of demonstrating for me. I
looked, listened, tried to make notes - but there was too much to take in.
For the record, however, here's an approximate version of cocktail basics. First
are the aromatics: a base spirit "adjusted" with vermouth or bitters. The most
important of this class are the Martini, the Old-Fashioned (Bourbon, sugar and
orange peel), and the Manhattan (Scotch, sweet vermouth, bitters). These all
need "gentle, loving, respectful treatment, no shaking, no messing around."
Next comes the sour. In the States, it's a whisky sour; in Brazil it's a Caipirinha;
in Mexico, a Margarita. All combine sweetness and sourness, typically in
proportions of 6:2:1.
Then comes punch. All punches are essentially "a sour made long" (i.e. with
ice in a tall glass). Based on the Planter's Punch, they follow exactly the same
principle: four parts weak, three parts strong, two parts sour, one part sweet,
regardless of which spirits are used, and which mixers.
Sixth is the Daiquiri. This is just rum, lime and sugar, with the variations
coming from different types of rum and the addition of fruit blended in.
Daiquiris can be shaken or blended.
The crucial point is balance. "You have to make the different flavours into a
whole flavour on the palate," as Dick puts it.
Many of the newer cocktails are just gimmicks, and a popular one is to provide
a novel shortcut to inebriation. This is the raison d'etre of shots and shooters;
short drinks served in shot glasses for quick inhalation. Detroit sells one called
The Three Wise Men, consisting of Jim Beam, Jack Daniels and Johnny Walker
Red in the same glass. "What's the point of that?" I asked Dick. "It's a code," he
replied. "With these drinks, the code means: 'I want to get drunk.'"
Layered drinks are another gimmick. Detroit sells a few of them, including the
B-52 (Kahlua, Bailey's and Grand Marnier) and the Vulcan Mind Probe (Bailey's,
creme de menthe, overproof rum). Perhaps the code here is: "since you don't
serve Mars Bars, I'll have one of these."
If these concoctions make you think about reaching for the sickbag, you're on
the right track. Dick reckons there are 30 good cocktails in the world. Many of
the remainder are disgusting, and others are just pointless.
Detroit sells around 40 cocktails, and each bartender there should know
how to mix one without thinking about it. If they need a reminder, they can
use what he calls the "Idiot Book" - each cocktail described in method and
measurements.
The Idiot Book and I seemed to be set for a beautiful friendship.