In the past week there’s been a lot of buzz in cocktail circles regarding the outcome of a legal dispute between Pusser’s rum and Painkiller, a tiki bar in the Lower East Side of Manhattan. It’s a story that’s led to a lot of anger among us folks in the cocktail biz, as it touches on a number of issues we consider important, so I figured I’d touch on it here. And because the dispute involves the confounding and often contradictory legal concept of intellectual property, there’s been some confusion that I think needs to be cleared up as well–and who better than a lawyer to do so?

Photo copyright www.thelodownny.com. They were the first to break the story about the Pusser’s drama. Read the original post here.

At the heart of the dispute is a classic tiki drink called the Painkiller. It’s a drink I wrote about a couple years ago (photographed above; updated post here), and it’s one I still enjoy on a hot summer day. It also happens to be the name of a tiki bar in Manhattan which opened just a year ago. The bar’s name, obviously, is a tribute to the drink and by extension, its creators. The name Painkiller also happens to be trademarked, and that trademark happens to be owned by the rum company Pusser’s. Painkiller (the bar), as you might imagine, also happened to feature the Painkiller (the drink) on their menu, and not necessarily with Pusser’s rum in it.

So when Painkiller (the bar) opened its doors a year ago, Pusser’s became pissed off about it and demanded that the bar cease and desist the use of their trademarked term as their name, and that they cease selling drinks called Painkiller unless it featured Pusser’s rum. When the owners of Painkiller refused, the rum company decided to sue the bar in federal court (because the trademark is filed with the federal government), claiming “irreparable harm to its brand, unfair competition and unfair business practices.” Rather than duke it out in court (which may seem like the honorable thing, but remember honor can also be very expensive) the owners of Painkiller decided to settle out of court. Accordingly, the owners have now changed the name of their bar (it’s now officially called PKNY), surrendered their domain name, and removed any references to the Painkiller drink.

When word spread last week, the cocktail community was ablaze with fury over the issue. People soon took to social media outlets like Twitter and various blogs to sound off against Pusser’s. Many called for a boycott of the rum brand, and a Facebook page was started called Bartenders Against Trademarking of Cocktails, which garnered hundreds of members in a matter of hours. Jackson Cannon, bar manager of Eastern Standard in Boston decided to take it a step ballsier by changing the cocktail menu to feature the Painkiller “proudly made without Pusser’s rum,” and posting a picture of the new menu along with his business card on Twitter, proclaiming “This is my menu… This is my card… You know where to find me!”

Photo by Jackson Cannon.

So who’s really at fault here? To wrap our head around the issue (and various sub-issues), I figured it best to divide the analysis into three parts: the legal, the ethical, and the practical considerations.

LEGAL CONSIDERATIONS

Any legal analysis of this issue must begin by clarifying the differences between a patent, a copyright, and a trademark, the three main areas that comprise what is collectively referred to as intellectual property.

Patent

First let’s get patent out of the way because it doesn’t really apply in this case, though it’s still useful to understand the basic concept. When someone seeks a patent, they’re seeking a property right for an original invention or process they’ve come up. Having a patent allows the patent holders to exclude others from manufacturing or selling that invention or process.

So what can and can’t be patented? A robot that has human emotions? Hell yes, and pretty cool at that. How about if someone invents a procedure from which to turn water into wine? Yes, that process can be patented, and would also be damn cool. But how about a recipe, because that’s a process, right? Well, the answer is, sometimes. Technically recipes can be patented, but only if they present some new or inventive method of preparing said recipe. So to get more specific, a mere listing of ingredients and preparation instructions is not sufficient to receive a patent. Even a unique combination of ingredients is not enough. The process itself must be novel. So as it relates to cocktails, the simple answer is that cocktail recipes can not be patented. So even if you use your special homemade yak testicle bitters in an original cocktail creation, at the end of the day it’s just a stirred cocktail that’s no different from a Manhattan with regard to how it’s prepared and the types of ingredients used (base spirit, a presumed modifier, and bitters).

Copyright

A copyright provides protection to “original works of authorship.” This includes anything artistic, literary, musical, intellectual, etc. Owning a copyright gives you exclusive the right to do what you want with your creation. You can sell it, reproduce it, license others to reproduce it, display it for free, or perform it as the case may be, and prevent others from doing the same with your work. The reason behind the principle of copyright is to promote creativity by protecting it, with the rationale being that if creative works can be stolen, then creative people have less incentive to do creative things, and society would be presumably worse off.

It’s important to note that a copyright protects the form or method of expression, and not the subject matter itself. So let’s say for example that someone writes a book about the history of the Painkiller cocktail. The writer can copyright his original work of authorship so that someone else can’t just publish his specific writings in whole or in part without his permission. But it doesn’t prevent someone else from writing a different book on the history of the Painkiller cocktail because the subject matter itself is not protected. Otherwise there would only be one book published per subject.

So can recipes be copyrighted? The answer is no. A mere listing of ingredients is not protected under copyright law because it’s not deemed to be a “substantial literary expression.” What could be potentially protected is an accompanying “description, explanation, or illustration.” Thus a cookbook can be protected, but the mere listing of the ingredients for a particular recipe within the cookbook can not be protected.

If that’s the case, then what’s the basis for Pusser’s claim? Read on.

Trademark

A trademark is a word, symbol, or name that is used to distinguish a product of one company from the same product from another company. For example, Coca-Cola is a trademark. The company that owns that trademark, in this case Coca-Cola, has the right to sue another company if that company uses Coca-Cola’s trademark on their products.

The principle behind trademark law is that it encourages honest competition between companies, and enables the consumer to distinguish between competing products. Unlike copyright law which is intended to limit competition, trademark law works to foster competition–or at least that’s what it’s supposed to do. You can see how it would be disadvantageous to consumers if someone were to be able to use the name Coca-Cola or a confusingly similar name to promote their own independent soda product. Even if that product were to be of higher quality than the real Coca-Cola, it would amount to consumer fraud, and we surely wouldn’t want to allow that. When you buy a can of Coke, you expect it to be a can of Coke.

This principle is at the heart of Pusser’s claim, which is that when a customer orders a Painkiller, they expect it to have Pusser’s rum in it because they’re expecting that unique taste. They have two trademarks on the name Painkiller: one for “alcoholic fruit drinks with fruit juices and cream of coconut and coconut juice,” with the claim that the alcohol in the drink is Pusser’s rum; and one for “non-alcoholic mixed fruit juices,” because they also sell a product called “Pusser’s Painkiller Cocktail Mix.” The former trademark enables them to force a bar to either remove the Painkiller drink from its menu or use Pusser’s in the drink. The latter would appear to apply to the issue of preventing a bar from taking on the name Painkiller, since they have a product on the market with that name.

Note that there’s no specific recipe being protected here. Their claim is not based on the precise measurements of particular ingredients to be used in a Painkiller, but rather that any drink called a Painkiller must include Pusser’s rum in addition to “fruit juices and cream of coconut and coconut juice.”

Legal Conclusion

It’s important to remember that the case settled before actually going to trial, so no legal precedent has been set in favor of Pusser’s. Whether or not they would have prevailed is something we’ll never know, but presumably the attorneys for the defendant believed Pusser’s had a good chance of prevailing and thus advised their client to settle; or that even if they believed they could successfully fend off the suit, the cost to do so simply wasn’t worth it.

That said, the fact that Pusser’s owns the trademark is not in dispute, and therefore the legal analysis seems to point in their favor. So why are people still upset then? People are upset, and I believe rightfully so, because this is a case where a colorable and convincing argument can be made that the law as applied has consequences that conflict with the spirit of the law as conceived.

For one, this seems to suppress competition, not enhance it the way trademark law is intended to do. Requiring Pusser’s to be used in any drink called a Painkiller seems no different in principle than requiring only one brand of tequila to be used in a Margarita, or even one brand of pasta to be used in a Fettucine Alfredo. The only difference is that in the case of Pusser’s they happen to have a trademark on that name. The current bartending culture thrives on cooperation and sharing of ideas, and the fact that a bartender could be restricted from using a different rum in a drink recipe just seems plain odd and out of line with plain common sense.

Furthermore, Pusser’s trademark is certainly not akin to that of Coca-Cola, which involves a product with a secret recipe. The recipe for a Painkiller is not only public knowledge, but it was not even created by the Pusser’s. Nor did Pusser’s come up with the name. Worse yet, the Painkiller recipe predates the existence of the company by a decade, and the filing of the trademark by nearly two decades (I’ll elaborate on that later).

This doesn’t seem fair at all, and the entire concept of intellectual property is built on the notion of fairness. It’s therefore too simplistic to say that Pusser’s had a right and they were merely exercising that right. In fact, the more involved legal analysis reveals a reasonable argument that a trademark should have never been issued to Pusser’s in the first place, or in the alternative, that trademark law needs to be changed to reflect a fair outcome in these types of cases.

ETHICAL CONSIDERATIONS

All the analysis about legal issues and rights doesn’t change the fact that for many people, something just didn’t smell right. Pusser’s claim that Painkiller’s use of their trademark caused “irreparable harm to its brand, unfair competition and unfair business practices” seemed to many like old-fashioned legal speak drummed up by smart corporate attorneys. Fuel to the fire of that suspicion was added when a few facts came to light that didn’t put Pusser’s in the most honest ethical light.

The first of those issues I mentioned above, that Pusser’s did not even create the recipe for the Painkiller, nor did they come up with the name. Robert Simonson reported on his blog that tiki historian Jeff “Beachbum” Berry researched the history of the Painkiller and noted that it was created in 1971 by the owners of the Soggy Dollar Bar in the British Virgin Islands. He further notes that the original Painkiller was made with Mount Gay and Cruzan dark rums, not Pusser’s. And as mentioned above, Pusser’s didn’t even exist as a company until a decade after the drink’s creation. This is not in dispute, as it is corroborated by Pusser’s rum founder Charles Tobias in a recently released statement on the company’s website.

This was something I only recently realized. Up until a week ago I believed Pusser’s was the original rum in a Painkiller, and that’s what I wrote two years ago when I first wrote about the Painkiller recipe, and I’ve since had to go back and correct the record. As Simonson noted in his piece, even Jeff Berry, with his immense knowledge of tiki drinks was fooled, and admitted that Pusser’s litigation lead him to believe they actually created the drink. I suspect others with an even more modest knowledge of tiki history were also fooled by Pusser’s claim.

And that’s not the only issue. Besides not being the creators of the drink they’ve trademarked and now aggressively enforce, it appears they’re guilty of the same practices they accuse others of. A crafty member of the bartender community dug up a tweet by @pussers_bvi (the company’s Twitter account) dating back to May 2010 which encouraged consumers to use Pusser’s rum when making a Dark & Stormy. The significance of this is that a Dark & Stormy is the name of a cocktail created and trademarked by Gosling’s rum; it is a trademark that Gosling’s vigorously seeks to enforce in the same manner as Pusser’s. In the legal field, the term for such behavior on the part of Pusser’s is “unclean hands.”

Ethical Conclusion

That many in the cocktail community are up in arms over the actions of Pusser’s is not merely an irrational, uninformed, or visceral reaction as some have stated. There are bona fide issues of moral duplicity on the part of Pusser’s which are difficult to avoid, and have not yet been responded to by the folks at Pusser’s. Moreover, most people aren’t well-versed in the legal intricacies involved, so these issues strike a bigger chord than claims of legal right. To most people learning of the issue, Pusser’s actions simply don’t pass the smell test.

PRACTICAL CONSIDERATIONS

In addition to the various legal and ethical issues here, a number of people have brought up certain points that are simply common sense considerations, irrespective of the technicalities of the law or otherwise. Below is a summary of some of the most notable ones.

First, and in defense of Pusser’s, they rightly claim that not enforcing their trademark in instances of potential infringement leaves them vulnerable for when they do decide to enforce. Essentially the claim is that you risk losing a right you don’t take care to defend. True as that may be, it’s still a tough sell when you weren’t the creator of the trademark.

Others have noted that claims of legal right aside, suing a well respected bar as Painkiller, with owners as highly regarded in the cocktail community as Richard Boccato and Giuseppe Gonzalez, is asking for a major PR headache. As it is Pusser’s doesn’t have a huge presence in the U.S. market, and pissing off bartenders who are the gatekeepers of consumer awareness and consumption is not a bright way to increase market share.

Furthermore, it’s likely that in its one year of existence, the bar Painkiller has done more to promote the drink–and indirectly Pusser’s as a brand–than all of Pusser’s marketing efforts in the last decade. So rather than seeing the Painkiller the bar as hurting the Pusser’s brand, one could argue the bar has helped shine a positive light on their rum that they didn’t previously enjoy; that with a little creative thinking on Pusser’s part they could have created some mutually beneficial collaborative opportunities.

Lastly, if you’re going to claim that you have a product so unique and amazing as to make it indispensable in a recipe, you had better be able to back it up. As noted above, Pusser’s can’t be that indispensable to a recipe if it wasn’t even called for, nor even existed, when the recipe was created. But even putting that issue aside, perhaps they could claim that the Painkiller recipe is better with Pusser’s than it ever was.

Of course this can’t be proven or disproven because it’s a subjective claim, but one would think that if it makes such a great Painkiller, then tiki bars would use the brand more often in the recipe–at least the bars that fashion themselves as using the highest grade ingredients. But that fact simply doesn’t bare out. Painkiller and other high quality establishments that serve Painkillers often use other rums besides Pusser’s.

Why is that? Contrary to their ridiculously sounding claim on the Pusser’s website that their product is “The Single Malt of Rum,” the truth is that many bartenders and rum experts will tell you is that it flat out sucks. For starters, it’s outright puffery to claim that a rum can even be a single malt (it is impossible, since rum is distilled from sugar, not malted barley). But even if we take the phrase in a looser sense, it doesn’t jive with reality. Paul Pacult, who is a highly respected spirits critic, published a review of Pusser’s rum in his 2008 book Kindred Spirits 2. It may be enlightening to read what he had to say about the highly self-touted rum. Here’s the review in its entirety:

“The brilliant copper penny color is pretty, but displays minor sediment beneath the examination lamp. The opening nose detects peculiar smells of olive brine, seaweed, wood polish, and shellfish; extra air contact does nothing to enhance the briny/solvent-like and weird aroma. Better in the mouth than in the nasal cavity; the palate entry is piney, cedar-like, and astringent; at midpalate there are flashes of molasses, coffee, and tobacco that aren’t significant enough to drag this oddball rum up into recommended territory. Ends up poorly as highly astringent and manufactured tastes dominate the exit. This was originally labeled as “Admiral’s Reserve” in 1993 and 1996. That designation no longer appears on the label, though the abv strength is the same. The detergent-like, cleaning liquid finish brings the rating back down to one star. A waste of a good glass bottle. No wonder the British Navy fell into disrepair. Rating: 1 star/Not Recommended”

One star is the absolute lowest rating that Paul Pacult gives a spirit. In other words, their rum just sucks. Of course that’s only one critic’s review–one notable and highly respected critic–and ultimately you should decide for yourself. Nonetheless it doesn’t help Pusser’s claims that it is the one and only rum that must be used in a Painkiller.

Perhaps then, in the utmost consideration of practicality, some of Pusser’s legal budget ought to be redirected toward product development.

Just a thought.

*Got a cocktail question? Hit me on twitter @paystyle, email me at payman(at)lifesacocktail(dot)com, or simply drop me a comment below.

A bar is a playground for grown-ups. A place where you can meet new playmates, taste the sweet nectar of intoxicating juices, take time off to enjoy life with your closest of pals, and on occasion enjoy the chance of entangling your reproduction organs in other people’s warm orififi and bodily fluids. The playground swings have been replaced with bar stools, and once you sit down, you never know what might happen.

It’s a place for adventure, and for personal ruin if you just can’t find the strength to get off those swings.

But this is not exactly a bar review written by an alcohol fanatic.

I’ve never been much of a drinker. Compared to French pastries, Italian pizza, American ice cream and Japanese sushi, alcohol just seems pretty boring. Plus you get a headache. After one beer I feel tired, numb and ready for bed–and not in the kinky way, but in the grandma way. I’ve also never gotten laid while being drunk, or at least so I recall. Ha! [Doh!]

Still, I like bars for what they offer in relaxation and social connections, especially if it’s owned by friends. And so in 2009 I was actually hired by some previous clients of mine to work on the graphic identity for their new bar called 1105. The bar is off a popular shopping street, 1105 Copenhagen K, and was named after their very own, unique postal code.

The aim of 1105 was to give off the vibe of classic old hotel bars–which was the new hot trend back in 2008-09: cozy atmosphere, dim lighting, crystal glasses, luxury barware, gold and chocolate, the finest ingredients, the best, most professional and service-minded bartenders working off an acoustic backdrop of elegant lounge house and chill techno.

And of course to serve the most delicious cocktails in town. Co-owner and head bartender Gromit is the kind of person everyone’s heard of in Copenhagen, famous (and infamous) for his quick wit, sharp tongue and creative, interesting cocktails.

During the developmental stages of creating the bar, my friends traveled Europe looking for old hotel bar interiors and barware for inspiration. I started researching old New York and London hotel identities, for the glamour and elegance they provided to their guests. I came up with about 50 logos. The owners of the bar took one look at my pitch material and decided in a split second on their favourite: a slinky, simple, vertical mark that happened to fit with exactly what they were looking for, for their bar.

The cocktail card is bound in carved and imprinted goat skin.

Each card has a different texture and color hue depending on which goat donated its furry coat to this greater good.

Two years since their opening, the bar is a success, for many reasons. Even though it does not offer bargain prices, it invests zero money in advertisement, and is hidden away from the street and public bypassers–it still attracts a big crowd each weekend.

According to one of the owners Morten, 1105 doesn’t cater to the trendy crowd since they are usually more like untrusty lovers, leaving your bed as soon as there’s something hotter on the other side of the street.

Instead, it’s about attracting a nice blend of different kinds of people: hardcore cocktail lovers, single girls, tourists cruising the Copenhagen bar scene, people who are ending their work day with a quick drink, people starting their booze night off with style before going nuts at the pub, etc.

In 2009 it was added to Condé Nast’s list of best bars across the world.

A night in February I met up with Morten and the accountant/party lady La Cam in order to taste the bar’s three most popular cocktails. Working behind the bar was Hardeep Singh Rehal, who has won the gold medal in the annual Copenhagen Cocktail competition three years in a row.

Three times, this gentleman has dazzled the judges with his own recipes which have all become instant classics in the Copenhagen bar scene.

We start out with a Honey Smash:

It’s very sweet but fresh at the same time. The lime juice adds an element of exotica to the Danish berries. Super popular among the lady crowd.

Honey Smash recipe:

5 cl (1.7 oz) vodka
2 cl (0.7 oz) honey
1 cl (0.3 oz) lime juice
1 cl  (0.3 oz) gomme syrup
1 strawberry
2 raspberries
1 slice of lemon (with the peel)
1 small handful of mint leaves

Now we move on to the Cucumber Yum Yum :

This drink was composed by Hardeep and landed him the gold medal in 2009. I couldn’t have come up with a better word myself, it truly lives up to its name. It has a very cucumber-y freshness, combined with the sweet hints of raspberry and gin. Truly original and the perfect pre-dinner cocktail.

4 cl (1.4 oz) Beefeater Gin
1½ cl (0.5 oz) Aalborg Jubilaeumsakvavit (Danish snaps)
3 cl (1 oz) Acacia honey
4 Fresh raspberries
1 Fresh cucumber
Sliced passion fruit

We ended our tasting session with the Señor Hansi, my new favourite:

Again, quite a sweet drink but with more of an edge (seems the Danes are suckers for nectar filled drinks, it must be the Scandinavian winter forcing us to eat sweets). By now I was pretty hammered so this poor picture was all I was able to snap before copping out.

But I remember really loving the drink, and snacking from the open sliced passion fruit.

I haven’t been able to pull the exact recipe from the bar crew except that it consists of tequila, agave syrup, lime juice, passion fruit and weissbier foam.

Intoxicated and dingy (see picture above) we call it a night and manage to throw ourselves off the swings and back into the real world. Three drinks is a wise limit I tell myself.

Still, the next morning I woke up with a headache.

Paystyle is out this week– after his series of recaps on Tales of the Cocktail in New Orleans, he’s burnt out and taking a personal day. It is Sloth Season after all, and we all deserve a break from Umamimart reporting.

He suggested I fill in this week for Happy Hour as a guest writer. Whoa buddy, you sure about that? This is a bit intimidating, since Paystyle is not only an award-winning bar chef, but a superb writer. Dude’s got street cred. How can one compete with that? I ain’t.

Which is to say that I won’t be shaking you up a cocktail that would inevitably have a lot of St. Germain in it (this would be to mask the flavors of all the other shit I put in the drink that never went together in the first place). Instead, let me report on a very special event I attended the other week: Savoy Cocktail Book Night at The Alembic in San Francisco.

Since 2008, Erik E., founder of the Underhill Lounge and a bartender at Heaven’s Dog, guest bartends at The Alembic for Savoy Cocktail Night once a month. They swap out their regular drink menu for the actual book– we’re talking the massive, definitive encyclopedia by American bartender Harry Craddock (who ended up at The Savoy Hotel American Bar in London when Prohibition went down Stateside) that was originally published in 1930, featuring 750 recipes from A to Z.

In other words, you can order any drink from the book.

Get the fuck outta here.

For real?

Yes. For real.

I took the night off of work and showed up at 8pm with a few friends in tow. The plan was to have a few cocktails that would put us in a well-themed mood for Episode #2 of Mad Men Season Three, on later that night.

Erik, who I had only known from the I N T E R N E T, manned the bar and I introduced myself. Always an awkward moment to meet a virtual friend in REAL LIFE. Ha. I’m all about it! He was perfectly dapper in a vest and skinny striped tie. shakin’ it up.

I pored over this book for a good fifteen minutes before making a decision for my first drink. As an amateur cocktail-maker, this was really exciting for me! First of all, it is a piece of artwork in itself. The loose, thick-brush drawings are done in an art-deco style, colored in with Crayola hues. Holding this book is such a delight.

Drink #1: Fairy Belle Cocktail.

I wanted to start with a fizz, so I went with this. The apricot sounded like a nice balance to the gin. Danny, an Alembic bartender, shook this for me.

Danny warned me that it was too sweet. I didn’t think so at all! The gin made it refreshing and it was definitely a great way to start. An aperitif, if you will?

South Side Cocktail.

Powdered sugar? Really? This is why this book is so awesome– it’s a glimpse into old techniques and ingredients that have been converted over time. Erik shook this one.

Very refreshing. The gin and mint together is curious– the mint competes with that juniper ginn-y flavor.

Aviation Cocktail.

An old classic. So clean!

Savoy Hotel Special Cocktail #2.

Many of the recipes in the book have variations of the same cocktails. Throughout the night, you could hear Erik or Danny asking, “Number One? Two? Or Three?” Number Two please!

Ahhh love that orange peel. Nothing beats the flavor enhancement of zest l’orange.

Also, lots of Dubonnet in the book, as well as Lillet. I usually drink both on the rocks, and never knew that there are so many ways to play around with them! So many different flavored brandys and liqueurs in the book too, that I had never even heard of. One side of the bar was lined with Bols– they’re such ugly bottles, but I guess one of the only brands that still makes all the flavors that were so pertinent in these classic cocktails? (Don’t get me started on the banana one). Nowadays, everything just has St. Germain in it. It makes me sad.

Erik and crew bring in their own homemade liqueurs too, for this night, since the book calls for obscure ingredients. As he says in this post, “The bar staff at Alembic and I have done our best to find or make every ingredient called for in the book, from Prune Syrup to Kummel to Hercules.” Hooray for us!

Let me say here that Erik’s blog, Underhill Lounge is well-known in its goal to create EVERY SINGLE cocktail in the Savoy book, obscure ingredients and all. We’re talking about a dude who makes his own Forbidden Fruit Liqueur. Now that’s deep.

Jacobo had a hankering for a Flip (a drink with an entire egg– essentially an eggnog). See Paystyle’s post on Flips here.

Erik made him the Philadelphia Eggnog: Madeira wine, brandy, Smith Cross rum, sugar, milk and yolk.

I wanted to cozy up near a fire while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas, or Home Alone. KEVIN!

Jacobo then pointed to this drawing and commanded to Danny, “I want what this guy’s having.”

Danny came back with a punch. Apparently, the devil drinks pink fruit juice. He was in a carefree mood. Ha.

One of my favorite cocktails of the evening, a Danny original. He whipped it up with Hibiki 12 year whiskey, and mole bitters. Whoa. I still recall the caramel tones from the whiskey, counteracted by the smoky mole bitters. Orange peel holla.

Danny’s mint julep.

Jacobo and I wanted some Pisco.

Et, voila.

Or was it this one??

As you can see, going through the book became a little daunting (we were getting too drunk to read the fine print?) that the bartenders just ended up whipping us up something according to what liquor we felt like. They are psychic geniuses like that.

Danny.

Alembic bartender who looks EXACTLY like Thom Yorke. Tripped me out! We talked about this– apparently, he gets this a lot.

Savoy Cocktail devotees.

Alembic’s signature pickled quail eggs. A must-order for anyone who comes here.

Bone marrow! Cow lard pairs so well with pre/post-prohibition cocktails.

Erik made Jade this digestif explosion. I believe it was Fernet, St. George Absinthe, and one more liqueur…

… Night… So… Fuzzy…

Much love for Erik, Danny and Alembic bartenders for their uncompromising devotion to the art of the cocktail, and putting on such a terrific evening. Once a month! There’s such a classic cocktail renaissance going on throughout the US right now, but events like these are so very special and one-of-a-kind.

Hint to Paystyle: You gotta host these in Brooklyn!

Needless to say, we did not make it home in time for Mad Men. We ended up at the bar until the hag lights turned on. In the words of Montell Jordan: This Is How We Do It. (That’s one’s for you, Pay, to enjoy on your day off).

Stay tuned for all upcoming Savoy Cocktail Book Night on Underhill Lounge. Hope to see you at the next one! (Erik is at Heaven’s Dog on Sunday nights, so you can always visit him there too!)

*Got a cocktail question? Don’t ask Kayoko, she’ll just tell you to put St. Germain in it, or make you a nasty-ass lemon drop instead (with a sugared rim of course!)! Hit up Paystyle on twitter @paystyle, or email him at payman(at)lifesacocktail(dot)com, or simply drop me a comment below.

PREFACE:
Tales of the Cocktail Recap Part 1
Tales of the Cocktail Recap Part 2
Tales of the Cocktail Recap Part 3

I had never been to New Orleans prior to going down for this year’s Tales of the Cocktail, so when it came to deciding where to eat and drink (which are always my top priorities when traveling), I knew I’d have many choices, and that I had to play my hand carefully. So long before it was even time to pack my bags, I began compiling a list of places that were said to be the best of the best, culled from a combination of trusted food and drink sites (such as this one) as well as personal recommendations from epicureans whose tastes I’ve come to respect. Plus I’m fairly savvy at separating the tourist traps from the locals’ favorites (Emeril’s name was nowhere to be found), so I felt pretty good about the list I compiled, which was a rather long one.

Of all the places in which I ate and drank, there were a few select standouts, both good and bad. Here’s a roundup of those places that were good, bad, and just plain meh, purposely excluding anything consumed at various Tales seminars and events because I wanted to focus squarely on the food and drink of institutions within New Orleans.

MOTHER’S RESTAURANT

We stayed at the Windsor Court Hotel, and situated conveniently across the street from us was Mother’s Restaurant, which I’d heard nothing but good things about, especially regarding their not-to-be-missed breakfast. Above is a plate of their special baked ham, potato salad, greens, and beans and rice with gravy and meat.

I guess it was time for Sadie Hawkins or something, as both my brother (left) and brother-in-law (right) wore the same shirt to breakfast, apparently unplanned. What a cute couple.

Verdict: Mother’s was great, and will be visited again next time I’m in NOLA. The crawfish etoufee is a must have, be it in traditional (above) or omelette form (below).

COCHON

Fellow booze blogger Fredo Ceraso of Loungerati joined us as we set off to dine at what was perhaps everyone’s most anticipated meal, dinner at Cochon. Here, Chef Donald Link works wonders in this shrine to all things pork. But pork’s not the only highlight on his menu, as dishes like wood-fired oyster roast and fried alligator with chili-garlic aioli threatened to unseat the namesake dishes. For entrees, both Fredo and my brother ordered the Louisiana cochon with turnips, cabbage & cracklins; my brother-in-law got the rabbit & dumplings; Vanessa ordered the smoked beef brisket with horseradish potato salad; and yours truly nearly got a boner when I saw the ham hock with sweet potatoes, pickled greens & black eyed pea ham broth on the menu, so that’s what I ordered. The ham hocks were actually fried and served osso bucco style.

All the dishes tasted great, but I have to admit that the fried alligator and wood-fired oyster appetizers–especially the wood-fired oyster appetizer–were tops on my list. The oysters, lightly charred on top and served with a spicy, tangy, garlicky sauce were so good I ordered another round. They were so good that I didn’t give a shit whether they came from an oil dump or not.

Verdict: There’s a reason you don’t see any photos here, because we were too busy getting our grub on.

PORT OF CALL

Some have proclaimed Port of Call as having the best burger ever. I say they’ve been gone from New York for too long. For the uninitiated, Port of Call basically has two items on the menu: burgers and steaks, each of which comes with a huge baked potato, loaded with whatever you want. They also had a pretty interesting looking menu of Hurricane style drinks which we abstained from because there was already way too much liquor in our systems.

When we went there, we all got the burger because, well, we were told it’s the best ever. The reality of it is that it simply wasn’t the best burger ever.  It wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t the best.

It’s not that they skimped on the meat or the toppings, and the patty was pretty juicy, of seemingly good quality, and cooked exactly as I ordered it, but my main beef (no pun intended)–which would’ve possibly taken the burger to the next eschelon–was that it was simply un(or under)seasoned. Now I’m not the type of guy who needs smoked paprika and curry salt in his burger either, but just a touch of salt (and perhaps pepper but it’s not a dealbreaker) wouldn’t have hurt.

The unfortunate part is I really liked everything else about the place. The vibe was cool and relaxed and our server was cool.  What was especially cool was seeing the local police officer sitting at the bar with a beer one moment, then delivering some plates from the kitchen to our table the next.

Verdict: I won’t necessarily make it a destination next time I’m in NOLA, but if I’m ever in the vicinity and hungry, I’ll know where to stop. And I’ll know what to order: the steak.

PARKWAY BAKERY & TAVERN

Here comes the really bad news. I simply couldn’t believe how disappointed I was in eating here. I had heard from several sources that this would be po’ boy paradise, and the menu makes you think nothing less. I ordered a roast beef po’ boy (which was what was recommended to me) and the others ordered shrimp and crawfish po’ boys, and we all shared a side of alligator gumbo.

When my po’ boy arrived it was drizzled with a gravy that made the sandwich look so inviting that I wanted to jump into it headfirst. But after the first bite, then the second, then the third after dropping some hot sauce on it, then the fourth after dashing some salt on top, then the fifth after adding more hot sauce, then the sixth after adding a touch more salt, I realized this was a po’ boy for all the wrong reasons: it suffered from a poverty of flavor.

Just pure blandness that inexplicably none of the multiple hot sauce and salt treatments seemed to be able to augment. The opinion seemed to be shared around the table. The alligator gumbo, while nothing to write home about (all the more ironic that I’m writing about it now), was decent, and probably the highlight of the meal, though also underseasoned.

This was a place that certainly looked the part but in the end was just a lookalike. And the strange thing was that it was packed with locals. It reminds me of something a friend of mine who travels very frequently said to me: that living in New York has completely fucked up my palate; that when traveling to other cities and eating at places that many consider well above average, I’ll often consider them mediocre because of the level of quality I’ve become accustomed to.

We did however take great enjoyment at random stuff nailed on their wall, like the picture below.

Verdict: Doubtful I’ll ever return, unless it’s for Angelo’s 10th annual 49th birthday party.

THE SAZERAC BAR

Quite often if a city is known for a particular type of dish or drink, chances are that city is filled with places slinging below average versions of said dish or drink. Case in point: New York and the pizza. Although New York is famous for its style of pizza, 90% of the pizza joints in this city make a pizza that’s inferior to what you can make at home. Yet these places survive, largely due to tourists who don’t know any better and New Yorkers who couldn’t give a shit. The best explanation I can think of is that the majority of the mediocre places ride on the good reputation created by the few places who turn out an outstanding product.

New Orleans, of course, is famous for a number of culinary creations, from sausage-filled gumbos to shrimp po’ boys. But New Orleans also has a rich cocktail history, and no other cocktail represents that history than the Sazerac. The Sazerac is so NOLA that it’s been deemed the city’s official cocktail. So coming to New Orleans with the above axiom in mind, I was prepared to have some pretty mediocre–if not full-on terrible and overly sweetened–Sazeracs. Having heard sad stories from others about some of the really bad Sazeracs they had in NOLA didn’t ease my trepidation either.

So for the most part I stayed away from ordering a Sazerac at just any old place. But when I got to the Sazerac Bar at the Roosevelt Hotel, I figured I’d finally give it a shot. Besides, I wasn’t going to be like someone we know on this blog who visited the Sazerac Bar and didn’t order the namesake cocktail.

To my surprise, the Sazerac I had there was a good one, and it wasn’t overly sweet like I had feared. Despite the relatively young age of the bartender (looked like he was barely of legal drinking age), I had a good feeling about it, seeing as he really took his time in the preparation of the drink, properly chilling one cup, mixing the drink, then straining into the chilled glass, and so on. If I had to say something critical about it I’d say that it could do with a bit less Peychaud’s bitters, which is why the drink above has such a deep red hue.

Verdict: I’d easily order another Sazerac next time I’m there.

THE CAROUSEL BAR

The Carousel Bar at the Hotel Monteleone (host hotel of Tales) was another bar that I had heard many good things about. And being the bar of the hotel where Tales of the Cocktail takes place, I figured their cocktail game had to be on point. The bar’s name comes from the fact that it looks and spins like a carousel. Yes, it spins–albeit very slowly–while you’re seated at the bar, which can be either very cool or very disorienting depending on your state of inebriation.

So on a morning in between seminars I stopped by the Carousel Bar and ordered up another classic New Orleans cocktail, a quaff that’s traditionally enjoyed in the morning known as the Ramos Gin Fizz. Alas, disappointment had arrived. Perhaps it was because the barman on duty was not supposed to be on duty, and being distraught and slightly irate that he was called in because of a colleague’s no-show may have distracted his focus. Whatever the reason, the drink was so bland as to be unoffensive–not enough liquor, not enough sugar, just kinda whatever.

Verdict: Will give it another shot, but next time I’m ordering a Vieux Carre, a New Orleans classic created here.

JEAN LAFITTE’S OLD ABSINTHE HOUSE

It wasn’t any one particular food or drink item that drew myself and many others from the Tales contingency here, although the name might indicate otherwise.  At the Old Absinthe House all I ever ordered were Abitas, which were great in and of themselves, but what made the times so special here was that this was the main unofficial after hours hangout of all the bartenders and folks from Tales.

The crowd spilled into the streets, and the night spilled into the early hours of the next day, as folks reconvened here from wherever their daily plans took them for a few last calls and some drunken shit shooting. Truth be told, this was where the best networking took place. Not in or after seminars.  Not at various parties and such. Here. And it was after meeting folks here the night before that made bumping into one another during the day seem like you were running into an old friend.

Verdict: This place is old as dirt and still rocks.

CAFE DU MONDE

A veritable New Orleans landmark, Cafe Du Monde is one of the few places where both tourists and locals converge in mutual agreement: the chicory-spiked cafe au laits and beignets, pretty much the only two things on the menu, are worth enduring long waits in the line or for a table.

After several nights of heavy drinking, some joe from Cafe Du Monde was a welcome libation. And as you can see, the beignets are nothing to f*ck with either.

Verdict: It was so hot that I ordered an iced coffee, which wasn’t their specialty, and thought it was just okay. I did bring back a can of their coffee to try at home, so I might adjust my opinion. The beignets, on the other hand, received no complaints.

Finally, I’ll leave you with some parting shots of the streets of the Big Easy. By the way, the gentleman below was not in motion when we took the photo.  He had been in that pose for a very, very, very long time.

Look out for Part 5 tomorrow, featuring an awesome seminar on molecular gastronomy and mixology from the dudes behind The Tippling Club.

*Got a cocktail question? Hit me on twitter @paystyle, email me at payman(at)lifesacocktail(dot)com, or simply drop me a comment below.

It’s happening. Ippuku, the East Bay’s premiere yakitori and shochu bar is opening on Monday 7/5! HOLLA!

I was lucky enough to get a tour of the restaurant before it opens and talk with the owner/chef, Christian Geideman. Located in the heart of Berkeley, the restaurant space is quite breathtaking (read: epitome of cool) and the menu boasts nearly 50 kinds of shochu! INSANITY!

Christian himself is not new to the world of Japanese cooking, or running restaurants. He opened Kasasoba, an izakaya in Santa Fe, before becoming chef de cuisine at Ozumo in Oakland. He has dedicated himself full time to building Ippuku from the ground up since the beginning of 2009, which is about to become a full-blown reality on Monday, as the doors will officially open on Center Street.

Christian, who once worked as a sake distributor, began exploring the world of shochu on a trip to Japan years ago. I guess you could say he was smitten, considering he decided to make it his personal mission to open a bar/restaurant devoted to this stuff (which is surprisingly little known here in the States).

Right when you walk in, you’re greeted by a long row of 24 shochu bottles– ON TAP. The bottles are gigantic, but somehow defy gravity and hang upside down. Christian said he was inspired by an izakaya in Osaka that had this, and just had to have the genius contraption. Each one dispenses an exact shot! I would say it’s the main centerpiece of the entire restaurant– it is just AWESOME.

Ippuku is an expansive, sparse space with light wood accents to compliment the cement walls and hanging pipes, painted blue. It’s as though a hip izakaya in Tokyo just landed in Berkeley. Local master builder, and ordained Zen Buddhist priest, Paul Discoe designed the 600 sq. ft space– not an easy task considering how long and narrow the space is. Bravo Mr. Discoe!

The bar is located right as you walk in. But there will be no stools– standing room only. Racer 5 on tap!!

Despite the super high ceilings, intimate and cozy booths align one wall– just like Tokyo. This is gonna be the hottest date spot in the East Bay. Hell yah!

There is an enclosed area on the other side, with several tables that will seat about 4-5 people each. NOMIKAI! (Please excuse the construction).

Walking towards the back, the open kitchen with bar seating is just delightful.

Getting all the fire codes squared away here must have been a nightmare. With all the grilling and the smoke, this couldn’t have been an simple process with the DOH. But they did it! Skewered meats will be grilled, before your very eyes, on coal, just as they are meant to. Whew.

A little bit about shochu, which is a Japanese liquor– a close cousin to the Korean soju. It is absolutely NOT to be mistaken as sake (nihonshu), and is more like vodka in profile and taste, as it is distilled with barley, rice or potato. The end product tastes clean and often earthy. The potato version can be a bit pungent, and takes some getting used to– but when sipped on the rocks, as is recommended, one begins to appreciate the different dimensions of flavor.

Also to be enjoyed with oolong tea, or with some freshly squeezed grapefruit juice!

Ippuku’s shochu menu is out of this world. With nearly 50 bottles, 12 of them will be making their West Coast debut. As in, they aren’t available anywhere around here. They also have Awamori on the menu, which is a liquor from Okinawa. Yoko wrote about it last year.

I believe Ippuku will increase shochu knowledge in the Bay Area tremendously. This is REALLY EXCITING!

Their food menu will predominantly be yakitori, crunchy parts and all, with a sprinkling of usual izakaya fare. I have an insider source telling me they make their own mayo and ponzu. Ohhhh Yahhhh.

Great story: Christian grew up in Berkeley, and told me that the actual Ippuku space used to be an art house theater (hence all the awesome vintage Japanese movie posters). He said that the very last time he was there, he had accidentally left his wallet behind. The wallet contained $650. GASP! Of course, it was never found. He told me that he’s determined to make back that money here. It’s as though he was destined to open his dream restaurant, right in this exact location. It’s fucking fate.

Ippuku, in Japanese, means to “take a break.” In slang terms, it’s more like, “take a smoke break.” Love it.

Here’s to a fantastic opening, Ippuku! Wishing you many years of success in the Bay Area, that will surely bring a community together over grilled chicken gizzards and sweet potato shochu. We look forward to many drunk nights here, and watching you grow!

Full disclosure: Washi, Yoko’s husband is one of the bartenders at Ippuku. Make sure to stop by and say hello to him when you’re there! He is lots of fun and extremely knowledgeable about shochu, and drinking in general. We’re all drunks here, at Umamimart, what can I say.

*Updated (February 28, 2011): I started working as a server at Ippuku in August 2010, after I originally wrote this post. As of February 2011, I am no longer working there.

More photos of Ippuku here.

Billy Goat Tavern was my absolute favorite place we went to in Chicago. You know a place has really made an impression on you when you keep wanting to go back. Matt and I were only there for three days, but I made sure I went twice. I even bought a tshirt. Ha.

Oddly enough, we didn’t even really know about Billy Goat and we literally just “stumbled upon” it. We had just finished an architectural boat tour around the city, and were looking to get a quick drink when Matt saw this sign:

This obviously piqued our interest so we started the descension into the underworld of Chicago. So cool!

We walked in and were greeted by this sign.

Totally bustling. Totally retro. Totally underground.

We took a seat at the fully stocked bar, with all the brown stuff lined up in the front row. Already likin’ the place. Dusty black and white photos hung on the walls.

Nick, our bartender, was RAD. We started talking to him, and mentioned he had worked there for 21 years. Whoa. That’s when Matt and I started to suspect that maybe this place was a big deal???

Jim Beam Old Fashioned.

I started getting hungry, and wanted a snack before dinner. What’s good here?, we asked Nick. He started on about their “famous cheeseburger.” But make sure to get a double patty, he recommended– the single one is just not enough. Yessir.

So off I headed to the ordering counter.

Menu was super old, drawn on a long, single piece of white plastic. It looked like they hadn’t changed the pricing since the 80s.

The grill.

My cheeseburger!

Two super thin patties and cheese on a roll. I added raw onions, mustard and ketchup.

This was OUT OF CONTROL goodness. So simple! No frills! GOODNESS. I had asked for fries, but they didn’t have any. I got bbq chips.

Matt’s a breakfast sandwich conosseiur so he went to order one for himself. Just bacon, egg, on a toasted roll. Add ketchup.

Bfast sandwich porn.

We spent over an hour here, it was so awesome!!!! It just had this really great old-school Chicago vibe– friendly bartender, great drinks, easy menu. Really, what more do you need in life? Billy Goat has the basics, all done really well.

There was this super old goat’s head that hung from above the bar– it was so dark I couldn’t get a good picture of it, but it really added to the super JANK quality of the place. Umamimart loves JANKY. Check out this painting on one of the doors!

Alright, so it turns out that Billy Goat Tavern is actually a really big deal. I’ll let you read about it on their website for a full recap of their long history, but basically, they’ve been around since 1934, when a Greek immigrant, William “Billy Goat” Sianis, opened it and named it after he acquired a pet goat. Legend has it that Bill put a curse on the Cubs in 1945, when he and his pet goat were denied entrance into the World Series game. HA! The Cubs have never made it to the World Series since.

More importantly, Billy Goat was immortalized in the 1978 Saturday Night Live skit with John Belushi, Bill Murray and Dan Aykroyd. HILARIOUS.

The phrase, Cheezborger, Cheezborger, Cheezborger. No Pepsi. Coke is all over the place in the Tavern. We wondered where it came from when we were there, and that’s where it comes from.

Anyway, so Matt and I had NO IDEA of any of this when we walked into Billy Goat– the curse, the SNL skit, its long, rich history. Life can be so serendipitous.

I’m a dork and was totally determined to go back once more before we left. We were crunched for time on our last day, but I ducked in and got a few burgers to go so we could eat back in our hotel room while we packed. Matt was in charge of getting the beers.

L’ultima Cena. (Last Supper)

We are so classy.

There are many locations in Chicago, but you MUST go to this one! It’s been here since 1964, and it’s where, I assume, the Second City gang hung out, which inspired the skit. It’s a really special place!

BILLY GOAT TAVERN
430 N Michigan Avenue
Chicago, IL
T: 312.222.1525

Alright gang, this concludes THE CHICAGO TEN. God, what an awesome trip! Many thanks to Matt K. for being a superb traveling and eating buddy. We always have good times, great laughs. He gets to choose the city for our next annual meetup so stay tuned in 2011!

Top photo by Matt K.

Whenever I travel to a new city, I try to make sure to visit a jazz club. The jazz scene in Paris, Tokyo and Rome are unreal! There’s just something about going out and listening to jazz at some grimy club, while sippin’ on a classic cocktail that transports you through time. In New York, I would yearn for a midnight jam session with Thelonious Monk and John Coltrane at Minton’s Playhouse or The Five Spot. What an amazing era for music! Those days of jazz are gone though, as are those venues (sad face).

A few friends recommended The Green Mill to me, as an old school jazz club destination in Chicago. It is well known historically as a hangout spot for one of Al Capone’s gangsters, back in the day, and inspired a scene in a Frank Sinatra movie, The Joker is Wild.

The Green Mill is in North Chicago, and was at least a fifteen minute cab ride from the city center. Chicago is pretty huge! But we got there and were greeted by the awesome flashing green and gold sign. So retro!

The club has been around since 1907, and it has really maintained an authentic prohibition-era vibe– both inside and out. It’s neat that they aren’t trying to recreate it or anything. It’s the real deal!

Check out this metal (copper?) lighting fixture! SO AWESOME!

There was this large disc of lights towards the end of the bar, à la spaceship District 9, hovering over the bar.

I wish I got a better pic of the bar. It wrapped around half the venue space, it was really neat. You can kinda see it here.

Do you see that statue in the corner there? She is Ceres, Goddess of Harvest. Pretty hilarious.

Neither Matt or I remember the name of the band that night. Sorry, jazz band! We had a great time though. Awesome historic venue for sure! I highly recommend making the trek out.

THE GREEN MILL
4802 North Broadway
Chicago
T. 773.878.5552

Top photos by Matt K. Many thanks to Weird Chicago, for the extensive background info on The Green Mill. They conduct Weird CHI tours! Awesome!

Photos by Matt K. and myself.

Heard about The Violet Hour, a little speakeasy-esque bar in the Bucktown/ Wicker Park area of Chicago, courtesy of Paystyle. When Pay suggests a place, I follow, no questions asked.

Matt and I definitely walked up and down the street a few times and looked around like baffled, confused tourists before finally finding this place. Of course, no sign– just this awesome little scary Micky Mouse vampire dude doodle. The fun is in the hunt, I suppose. The guys at the door were surprisingly super nice (wow!). No obnoxious password needed (wow!!). It was around midnight on a Thursday, but they seated us immediately (wow!!!).

We walked through the lush velvet curtains and were greeted by opulently high ceilings, dimly lit chandeliers, and a gorgeous mirrored backbar lined with high-end, hard to find brown liquors.

They sat us at a table, where the chairs had really tall backs. These chairs were probably about 9-10 feet tall and added to the atmosphere nicely.

My Whiskey Smash: Wild Turkey, Lemon, Mint, Peychaud’s Bitters.

Matt’s Tequila Old Fashioned: Lunazul Blanco, Fees Old Fashioned Bitters, Grapefruit Oil.

I think I’m just really jaded by the SF/ NYC cocktail bar scene snobbery, and was pleasantly surprised by how easygoing everyone at this bar was. Although maybe we went on a chill night cause my friend who used to live in Chicago thinks this place is pretentious. I didn’t think so at all!

THE VIOLET HOUR
1520 North Damen Avenue
Chicago, IL
T: 773.252.1500

Buffalo Trace, Woodford Reserve and JD on tap. Life can be so sweet.

Kuma’s Corner. CHI.

Gold Star’s a little dive bar in Wicker Park, Chicago. The bartender was a gracious, round lady, who bought her regulars rounds of drinks. She’s the daughter of the owner, meaning this bar has been around for decades. How old do you think this Bud Light wall clock is?

The tamale guy came through the Gold Star Bar at around this time, selling his supply for $5 a pop. Just like there’s the Tamale Lady in SF, there’s a dude in CHI. Isn’t that uncanny? The guys next to us said it’s the best meal in town for the money.

Fugazi blasted through the speakers, and they sold $2 cans of Hamm’s beer. I adored this place– @totallymatt even bought a shirt.

Everyone in Chicago– from the bouncers, restaurant servers, and locals on the street– are so ridiculously friendly here. Save the fact that they have horrible senses of direction: THREE people, all locals, gave me wrong directions yesterday. Or maybe people just like to fuck with me?

Four words as I depart this great city today: TALK DERBY TO ME.