[The
Alchemist]

Neither a trend nor a cliché: The cocktail

For some, the word "cocktail" has become little more than a cliché, with bars solely serving beer and mixed drinks, despite advertising "cocktails" in large neon lights.

Establishments will of course continue to overuse the word, often degrading cocktails to basic mixed drinks that lack any edge or sophistication. Airlines will always insist on calling any drink made with distilled spirits a cocktail.

[Paul Harrington]The word will become even more commonplace and the Cocktail Nation may be tagged as merely a trend. But remember: Cocktails are neither ordinary nor a passing fancy. They have endured the dry years and the first era of polyester - they are survivors that you can always find. Like the French restaurant with a superior wine cellar and premier sommelier, saloons that continue serving quality cocktails will be a quietly protected feature of any city, not something that always shows up on a "best of" list. Rather, these will be known by their regulars as places to be relied on.

That said, times are changing and places that consistently serve good cocktails are becoming more difficult to find. For many establishments, particularly those run by larger companies, cocktails require too much skill, understanding, and time to be profitable. Restaurants, hotels, and other, used-to-be elegant locales often cannot be bothered with such details. Profit has become the guiding principle. Of course, the word "cocktail" can still be used in the corporate marketing scheme.

Back in 1956 Lowell Edmunds, author of The Silver Bullet: The Martini in American Civilization, tasted his first Martini mixed by Giuseppe Cipriani, the patriarch of Harry's Bar in Venice.

In those days, Mr. Cipriani and other masters behind the mahogany began their shifts by making a pyramid of Martini glasses, each filled with shaved ice. As orders came in, the cocktail was prepared with great care. The uppermost glass would be removed, the ice dumped out, and the drink mixed and served icy cold. With such show and care, who wouldn't be enchanted enough to try just one? Such artistry also led to few foul-tasting cocktails.

More than 30 years later, Mr. Edmunds returned to the bar while teaching classics at the university in Venice. Harry's looked just the same, but to Edmunds's dismay, the drinks were not. He ordered a Martini as he had years before. There was no longer a tower of chilled glasses in preparation. Instead, the barman reached back, opened a refrigerator, and brought a chilled glass and a small carafe containing a premixed Martini. The drink was not what Edmunds remembered it. In fact, he was disappointed and shocked that one of the greatest saloons failed to maintain its fervor and rigor for great cocktails.

In retrospect, the change at Harry's isn't surprising: The place became especially profitable; it became - dare I say - commercial. As a bartender, I'll admit that it's difficult to keep up with a thirsty crowd if you're mixing drinks the old-fashioned way.

So if Harry's can't keep up, then what establishment can? Don't look to the most crowded or popular place in town for your cocktails. Rather, seek out someone who truly enjoys his or her craft. Young or old, it will take a caring soul to carry on the true tradition of cocktails.

Nicholson Baker, in his essay "Rarity," explains how the rare and wonderful aspects of our lives become commonplace simply by literary mention. He reminds us that we are all "not-so-uncommon people who have had that sort of rare experience." For me, that experience is a cocktail, whether enjoyed at home with friends or family, or at the bar of my neighborhood pub.

 

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