Happy Thanksgiving (from my office.)

I'm writing from my office today. Yes, It's thanksgiving. There are about 20 people sitting at my bar and I'm missing my favorite pair of gloves that, much like most of my clothes, I've had for over 10 years. Let me rewind.

The holidays are a tough time for my family. For me, it's pretty simple. All year long people look forward to their christmas parties. People plan reunions at their local bars with their old friends the day before thanksgiving and the night after the big meal. My doors must be open, and they are. The holidays are about spending time with your loved ones, and it has never stopped being difficult on my parents, extended family, and now my wife, that during these designated family times I am often entertaining in my place of business. It is less difficult for me because I am used to it and fundamentally understand how important it is to be open even on the days when you will only have a few customers. Here is why...

I touched a table (industry talk for visiting and checking in on...) of a young couple, indulging in sushi and the most expensive sake I have to offer. I like to spend a few minutes with everyone who walks through my doors, and today was no exception.

"I burnt my turkey to hell," the young man chuckles as his eyes dart nervously towards his wife. "It was inedible. The cat sniffed it once and ran off." They both laugh. I come back to my office and realize that I have unwittingly given them a night they will never forget. "The thanksgiving that he ruined the turkey and they went out for sushi instead." They may one day tell their children about this night. They left happy. My bar is full of people who either don't celebrate thanksgiving or don't have a family near enough to celebrate them with.

I am asked often what the best part of this job is. The answer is simple: food and drink are the punctuation of our lives. People propose over dinner. They celebrate in restaurants. They meet their future wives or husbands and create memories with their friends. I am not so egotistical to want to be associated with these memories. Rather, I know that I have provided them with the stage to create it themselves. These couples will never remember my name, their server, perhaps even the name of the restaurant. But it will be there, along with that moment of happiness that could very well carry them through some immensely dark times. This is something to be proud of.

Someone asked me what I am thankful for. The honest answer is that I am thankful to come to work on the holidays. I am thankful that while I am still young, I can work hard to create a life for myself and my family that will give them every opportunity. I am thankful to the owners of this company, Farees and Mauricio, who believe in me and trust me to do right by their name and reputation. I suffer now so that in the years to come, I can enjoy the time off, and let some other young man or woman put in the sacrifice that I have paid forward. Mauricio told me something I will never forget: "You work your ass off in your 20's, get rich in your 30's, and start to enjoy your life in your 40's." I am in my office on this Thanksgiving for my unborn children and their grandparents-to-be.

As I was touching my tables, I saw a man that is always outside of the Lounge. I went out to say hi, like I always do. He talked about how cold he is, and how hard it is to live where he does; right now it's in an alley.

There are some brief shining moments in your life that you can do something that is really a deed that will result directly in something important. I marched inside, grabbed my favorite wool gloves from my coat, and brought them back out. I asked if he needed anything else, and he said, "blankets and socks would be great." My staff, who I have come to respect immensely, didn't miss a beat. One of my servers told me she would be bringing extra blankets tomorrow, and I know I have socks in my closet that I no longer use. I am so proud to work with some of these people.

I am not writing this for accolades or because I want any of you to think me a good person. I write this to express a point. The message on this holiday is: be thankful. Do not give because society expects it, give because you can, and many cannot. That is the point. I am so thankful for my wonderful family and I will forever be sorry that I can't spend this holiday with them, but I work so that one day I can be there as much as I would like. I work because it allows me to give, and allows me to help. Show compassion for others that have done nothing to deserve it because it makes you a bit more human. Be thankful that you can be warm and full, surrounded be people that love you.

It makes me happy knowing that my Mom and Dad raised me to be the man I am today. I am so thankful for that.

I told my wife this story, and she responded, "I've never been so proud that you're my husband." That woman is incredible, and I am blessed. Our puppy is pretty awesome too.

Happy thanksgiving, and remember to tip heavy on the holidays; the servers at your local restaurant probably are working so that they can afford something for the holiday.

Be good to one another.

and of course...

Stay thirsty,
Eric

Concerning Pisco

I still remember my first Pisco Sour.

I really can only imagine what a slack-jawed fool I looked like as I saw my good friend and bartending mentor, Alex Davin, reached for a raw egg, and gracefully separate the white into his tin.

“Are you baking a cake?” I asked incredulously.

“Shut the f*** up and watch,” he replied in a far-off tone. I knew when he was concentrating.

“There are three drinks that mark the quality of any bartender out there,” he began, “the Manhattan, the Sazerac, and the Pisco Sour. The first one most beginners can fumble through. The second indicates that the bartender may be better than average. The last; however, means that you have someone who knows how to mix making your drink.”  I would never forget this moment.

I began to understand a well-kept secret that bartenders who truly understood their craft had long kept. Pisco, an un-aged brandy originated from Peru and Chile, is one of the most versatile liquors out there. While vodka fundamentally lacks any sort of flavor on it’s own and is merited on its smoothness, Pisco’s subtle notes of citrus, herbs, or fruits (depending on what you are tasting) are what make it the complex and well deserved patron saint of those who mix.  It does not insist upon itself like whisky or gin, and it does not embarrass you in front of your friends like tequila. It doesn’t swear like rum. Pisco is like my dog: content in itself, happy to change, and easy to be around.

As someone who loves infusions, Pisco offers the most complimentary flavor to create something new. I make a Pumpkin Pisco Sour that will knock your socks off. I serve a Pineapple infused Pisco punch that is refreshing in all seasons. In fact, in every menu that I design and serve, I make sure that there is at least one Pisco cocktail on the list for the already-converted or those seeking the gospel.

There is an increasingly exciting world of alcohol that is being discovered by the once dominated world of vodka, gin, rum, and tequila. Much like with soccer, Americans are beginning to open up to what the rest of the world is doing in regards to their drinks and really seeing what other liquors there are to offer. Pisco represents the singular joy I get in the response to when a guest asks me to make something “I’ve never had,” because I’m almost always reaching for the nearest bottle of Pisco behind my bar. 

Get out there, drinkers, and don’t be afraid to let your bartender mix you something that you’ve never had before.

I would just suggest you taste their Manhattan or their Sazerac first.

SOS: Shutdown in DC

My preamble for this post is two fold.

First, there are three things people say you should never discuss at a bar: Politics, religion, and sports. The last of these three is impossible so don't bother ignoring it. The middle is always right, but the first is hard to avoid in Washington, DC, where I now manage a Lounge.

Second, those of you who know me know that I have a history in politics. I was quite good at it. However; I made the choice to get into this industry.  I think it has taken a uniquely bi-partisan effort to this adequately fuck up the government, but at this point the Republicans are being sore losers. If Cruz had ever been in a fight in his life, he would've already had a lesson I learned when I got my ass kicked for the first time when I was 11: sometimes you lose. Suck it up.

Now, onto what this post is really about.

I need your help.

See, there is an unseen victim to this government shutdown. Everyone knows that by our esteemed members of congress throwing a temper tantrum,  they are screwing hundreds of thousands of federal employees, people who just want to do a job, out of their money. But all of this is hurting a second group two. People just like me.

As many of you know, the DC license plate boldly says "Taxation without representation." Why, some may ask? Well, unlike most of my readers, I don't have a Senator or Congressman that I can call up and say, "Hey, asshole, do your job and stop acting like a child." DC lacks representation. What is the most ironic out of all of this is that the local businesses in DC are the ones being hit the hardest. See, Nationally, 14.9% of jobs are public sector. Here in our nation's capital, its closer to 30%. I am lucky and have not been feeling the crushing effects of the shutdown as bad as some, but with the debt ceiling looming, federal catering events are canceling.

Ryan, a good friend of mine, told me yesterday "It was a ghost town on U Street. The first weekend was fun with shutdown parties but people are legit nervous now. They're saving their money."

Understand that the service industry ceases to exist with nobody to serve.

I know the members of Congress don't give a shit about anyone in DC because we don't get them elected, but call your Congressmen. Call your senators. Let them know that its more than the parks and the federal employees. It's the entire food-chain that they are toying with. All because they are throwing a temper tantrum.

I think that house republicans and democrats need to sit down, have a shot, have a cocktail, have another shot, and get all of this out of their system. Clear the air and actually talk to each other. En Vino Vertias.

In fact, come down to Mate Lounge. If you promise to actually negotiate, first round is on me.

...But I won't hold my breath.

The Old Fashioned

The fall is upon us, and everywhere whisky drinkers rejoice.

The fall is my favorite season. The turning of the leaves and the dropping of the temperatures somehow make my pale complexion and bald head and beard look just a bit less stupid. It also means that marathon eating days are upon us (Thanksgiving and Christmas. Yes. Just, YES.) and that whisky just tastes better. Something about a scotch on a cold day feels appropriate. Though for bartenders everywhere, this can be a harrowing season.

Unlike the mojito, which  even the greenest of bartenders can throw together, whisky cocktails are like angry wives; not to be handled by amateurs. Manhattans are a the measuring stick by which I measure other bartenders, as taught to me by my teacher, but Old Fashioned's are another monster entirely.

Much like peace in the middle east and the Batman vs. Superman conflict, how to make a perfect old fashioned is not agreed upon and can actually draw blood. I've seen it.

I've decided to let the Master handle this one. Those of you who have read my blog before know my good friend and teacher, Bear. I asked him about the old fashioned. Here's what he had to say.

Alex Davin, Lincoln

Do you like whisky?
Ahhhh, yea, that would be a yes. Next.

Just...yes.

What's an example of a bad OF?
Oh, I've had 100. You walk into a bar you don't know and think about getting a fancier drink but gotta dip in your toe to test the water, my go to is a Manhattan. It's classic but simple, and really is used to see how good the bartender is. If a bartender can make a decent Manhattan, I feel better about gambling with an Old Fashioned.

Muddled Old Fashioned's are popular and are a travesty. They're neon red grape colored and filled with all the crappy stuff. I've had a few and I say keep the garbage out of my drink. I don't want a salad I want a drink."

The best example of a bad OF is probably the time that you were going to roll out your newest menu and I needed to teach you one last lesson. We went to a newly opened DC bar on an off night (tuesday, I think...) and looked at the menu. It had some classic cocktails on there, so we ordered a few. I ordered the drink that was a play on an OF, and you ordered the pisco sour.

*Eric's note: that pisco sour was truly horrific. Egg yoke in the drink. Nightmares are founded on less.

We had one sip so you could understand the lesson: your staff will undoubtedly fuck up your recipes. Sorry. That's life. I made you take one or two more after so you wouldn't forget it.

We tipped and left. It takes a deft hand to make [an old fashioned] well.

What's the biggest mistake that bartenders make when making an OF?

Muddled fruit. I know people that like it are of an older generation, but it just ruins it! That and bartenders go too light on the bitters. Don't be afraid, I need more than a dash.

What Whisky do you prefer to use?
High proof bourbon or a bold rye (over 100 proof, maybe bonded)

It's a man's drink, its supposed to kick you in the ass.

Will you share your recipe?
Not a huge secret.

Make rich simple syrup (2pts sugar in the raw to 1 part water)
Puddle upsimple syr the bottom of the mixing glass (I don't measure, depends on the whisky, but usually around a half ounce)
5 dash angostura (That's right! FIVE!)
2 oz whisky, some people call, I like to default to Jim Beam Rye
Build the cocktail with no ice to have the bitters mix into the simple syrup, add ice and strain onto an oversized 2x2 ice cube, garnish with a big orange zest and home-made bourbon cherries.

What's the funniest story of that drink being sent back?
Well, this guy came in, young early 20s on a date, not a first date but not far off, and asked for an OF. I made it with the forementioned recipe, which in my unbiased opinion is fucking delicious.

The guy comes up to the bar from a table and asks: "Where's the muddled fruit?"

Well, that's the way we make it here," I reply. He quickly says, "but the muddled fruit is the best part!"

So I "fixed" it, but it was weird having a giant ice cube with muddled fruit. Though as you know, people like to drink the way they like to drink, but I just think my way is better.

Failure

I am not good at failing.

It's no secret to anyone who knows me that I hate to lose. I am competitive by nature. This drives my wife crazy because I need to win. Adversaries make me work hard, and their doubt makes me work harder.

"I like the idea, but you have failed in the execution," my owner told me as I served him a dish that Chef and I worked tirelessly on.

It was a bit of a shock to me; I'm not used to failure. It was the certainty of the word "failure" that really hit me. He didn't suggest it needed to be tweaked. He didn't say "It's ok, but I don't love it." He told me I failed.

And he was right.

It took me a bit of time to really surrender to that realization, but once I did, I found myself almost relieved. As the General Manager of Mate Lounge, it is my charge to come out with a brand new food and drink menu for the fall. This, for those of you who don't know, is a daunting task.

The owner of the Lounge asked me if I had read his blog, which I had. It's appropriately called "I Love Failure" and it turned out that his use of the dreaded "F" word was far more honest than I was expecting or prepared for.

It is not often that you get to speak with someone who has succeeded (and failed, as it turns out) in so many ventures in his life. I assume that he saw me go tight-lipped and stopped and said "Now that you know you have failed, try something different."

I share this because of the importance of persistence in these little moments. Creative pursuits such as food and drink are beset on all sides with traps that you can fall into, and losing sight that sometimes everyone doesn't share the quirks of your pallet is a dangerous game. Sometimes you just have to let go.

So, I kept working. And Mate's new food and drink menu is dangerously close to being done.

Thomas Edison, besides being a thief and a bit of a fraud (See: The Oatmeal Comic on Tesla and how Edison stole his ideas....) did say something I find very useful:

"I have not failed 10,000 times. I have successfully found 10,000 ways that will not work."

Don't be afraid to fail. It doesn't hurt as bad as it seems.

Response: Bruce McAdams and tipping

Recently I watched a very interesting video from TED about a man named Bruce McAdams essentially saying that America should follow the European model and eliminate the gratuity system in America. For your viewing pleasure, I am linking it HERE.



Now, put the knee-jerk reaction aside, (after all, if this guy is a "restauranteur," than by his definition, so am I....) I decided to offer my points to show the ridiculous fallacies in his arguments.

First of all, I am going to have to question the credibility of this source. Realistically, I would hesitate from taking any sort of real instruction from a man with his resume. He never owned a single restaurant in the Oliver & Bonacini food group which he began work in 1997, and I usually reserve the word "restauranteur" to someone who both owns and operates. Now after his career he has ventured into academia, and as the old saying goes, "Those who can't do, teach." Now this is somewhat unfair because it's not always true, but if you are skilled enough to effectively operate a venue, I can't imagine why you would choose instead to teach it. Regardless, this is all conjecture on my part. On to his arguments.

Argument One: Tipping is irrelevant because we tip on the check amount.

Bruce sets up this argument with one presupposition: We tip based on previous tipping behavior. I find this leg of his argument to be sound; most people choose a percentage and tip above or below it based on the quality of service given. However, it's the second scenario that he falls into trouble.

Bruce gives a scenario in which he buys a $100 bottle of wine, and consequently tips %15, and the table next to him gets a $50 bottle of wine, and tips the same percentage. If the server is performing the same, why should I be tipping $15 on one table and $7.50 on the other? Sounds logical, right?

This argument really falls upon the ridiculous ignorance of Bruce. While I agree, opening the bottle and pouring the wine is the action, it's what takes place before that is the deciding factor. A server is a salesperson. Many consumers don't know enough about wine to make an educated choice, and saying that tipping on the check amount is as absurd as saying that a guest orders based on the price tag. I've had many a bottle of wine that costs at least $50 and felt it was over-valued. A true server sells the product on the menu, and doesn't let the menu do the selling for them. If you can have a guest who would have normally stopped at a $50 bottle of wine and is able to be sold one that is $70, the additional tip, in that situation, is a reward from the guest for introducing them to a superior product and is an incentive for the server to sell more. If the elevated check amount is a result of the salesmanship of the server, then the elevated tip is the reward.

Argument two: "Tipping promotes discrimination."
This is one of the black marks of the service industry. Bruce is not all wrong about this; in general men tip better than women, and businessmen tip better than families. Ok, I buy this. But once again, this is a short sighted view of the industry.

Any server or bartender worth their salt knows the golden rule: Regulars pay the bills. Discrimination over the short term is something that is frequent with servers who are tourists, and don't really have any intentions to stay in the industry. Saying that serving is a low-skill occupation is true with tourists, but not with those who take it seriously.  A good server or bartender has an encyclopedic knowledge of liquor, wine, and beer. They go to great lengths to know what they are serving so that they are able to "up-sell." I can't tell you how many times I've had a businessman come in with his family, and come back with clients or friends. The tip amount can vary, but the fact is that I have that individual visiting my establishment frequently, which makes him more valuable than a one-time visitor. A smart server will serve well in the hopes of a return visit, not of a big tip.

Furthermore, there is some study that Bruce fails to mention. Often times it is said that "black people don't tip." A recent study explains that black patrons tip off of perceived service, NOT off of check averages. I rarely see bad tips but that is because I am an excellent server. However let's suspend my personal ability for a moment and take a look at a simple fact.  For every five times I receive at bad (<10% tip) from one of the stereotype groups that supposedly tips badly, I get one that tips FAR over an anticipated amount (>35%). The law of averages begins to take over for me.

Argument three: "Tipping does not alter the quality of service."

How Bruce can, in one breath, utter his previous argument and then say this is a simple contradiction unto itself. Tipping not only alters is for the next person, but it also alters it for you when you return. Furthermore, Servers remember who tips well and who doesn't.

Argument four: A universal service charge insures universal service standards.

Go to a pub in the UK, and try to tell me this again. Please. I dare you. Service where tipping is not used typically sucks. Yes, there are exceptions to this rule, such as many of the fine dining European restaurants, but your average place doesn't give great service. If I want excellent service I will go to a highly accredited or highly regulated restaurant. I'm not holding my breath at Olive Garden. Source: My wife who lived in the UK for 28 years.

Argument five: Tipping isn't fair to the back of the house.

My father worked in very complicated fields in his life. He once told me that at most tech companies, salesmen are the second best paid people in the corporation. This is the way of the world. This is the same as the restaurant industry, with a tiny tweak.

First of all, salesmanship is not a skill that can be learned, it's a talent. You can't really go to "sales school." You can either sell things or you can't. I was born with the ability to sell, and I have honed this talent over the years until I could make myself a very comfortable living. I can put a price tag on what a cook creates and offers to the restaurant; it's called a menu. It's far more difficult to put a price tag on what a server does. Bruce likes to talk about "equal value creation," but you can't measure apples and oranges. I have seen VIP clientele that spend thousands of dollars because they "like" a server. That is how it happens.

"Well, cooking is a talent, too!" you say! "Culinary arts, right?" RIGHT! You are entirely correct. Every cook out there sees what they do as art, or at least the good ones do. Since when is art profitable for more than the top 1%? Furthermore, most servers cannot invest their time in their talent to transition it to a career. Cooks can. Servers invest their time for a monetary yield. You start somewhere that isn't good and you eventually move into the high-profit venues. Your end-game is just a bigger paycheck so that you can save that money to do something with it. Cooks invest their time for their own kitchen; it's a career that they are chasing. If that's not your goal, you probably shouldn't be cooking.

Bruce made a few points on the end regarding strife between the staff and accountability with the allocation of tips. At the end, this is not a problem with tipping, that's an issue with management. (Wasn't that your job, Bruce?)

The bottom line in my book: tipping works here. A lot of people don't want to tip for any number of reasons. I often times hear people say "I'm not paying someone extra just to do their job." Servers in the US make less than $3/hr. The system is predicated on tipping.

I will say that there are many restaurants that have taken tipping out of their business model; I have friends that work for them. At the end of the day, the one thing I always hear is that it discourages individual achievement. Servers no longer try to up-sell, and just do the minimum that they can get away with.

I'm not sure when competition in the work place became a bad thing. I know that in all the high-end clubs, restaurants, and lounges, it drives the venue to be the best.

If money is what makes the world go round, competition is it's fuel.

As we would say behind the bar, "Go home Bruce, you're drunk."

Ginger Beer

Bartenders of the USA, I know why you did it. I can't blame you. The 90's and early 2000's were good to us in a way that we never thought imaginable. The days of the 12 dollar tab and "keep the change" are over due to the new age of the credit card. I know that we collectively became bitter and tired and no longer wanted to deal with the bullshit. Could anyone really taste the difference between the home made stuff and the stuff you could buy on the cheap?

Well, the answer is yes.

I've started to get a bit of critical attention from the food and drink reviewers of DC. This is all well and good, and I recently had a young lady from Brightest Young Things come by my bar and have some of my ginger beer.  I have posted the link here.

The young lady came in and tried my Dark and Stormy. She asked me where I learned everything, and I told her the truth: someone else did it before Prohibition.

Now I have people asking for my Ginger Beer recipe all the time, asking how I do it, and what's involved. It brings me back to the time I spent in Central America, where I met a woman named Miss Helena, who ran her own little restaurant.

I had asked her for a soup recipe, and she happily told me the ingredients and method. I asked her if she ever worried about giving out her recipes, and she told me something I take with me to this day:

"Taste is in your hands, not in your ingredients. I can tell you how to make it, and you never will be able to. It's in your hands."

As I sat there looking into her calloused, wrinkled hands, I thought about what that meant. There was something spectacular about that.

So, in honor of Ms. Helena, I present you with my Ginger Beer recipe.

1. Get fresh ginger, and slice to about 1/4 inch width. Get as much or as little as you want. DO NOT peel the ginger. I know it will turn out brown, but the flavor is in the peel.
2. Add equal parts water to cut ginger in a pot. Make sure the water is cold.
3. Bring quickly to a boil, and add 1/2 sugar to 1 part ginger. Depending on the freshness of the ginger, this will make it sweet or spicy. Add more water if the ginger is too hot.
4. Let cool and filter. I like to run it all through a cheesecloth but don't feel obliged. You can simply put it through a siv.
5. Add in about 1/4 cup lemon juice. Taste and decide for yourself. Bear in mind that carbonation changes the flavor and sharpens sugar and reduces lemon - at least in my taste bud's opinion. Make it your own.
6. Carbonate. I use ISI tanks with chargers, but I hear good things about the Soda Stream systems.

Always remember, make it your own. Don't be afraid to spice or get creative.

After all, the taste is in your hands.

Stay Thirsty,
Eric

Dear White People:

My life changed, much like yours, on 9/11/2001. All of a sudden, "Middle Eastern" became a bad word. Previously misunderstood Muslims were now the enemy, and Arabs were generally vilified. Most Americans couldn't find the Gaza Strip on a map, let alone comprehend the complexities of the politics and [insert another fancy word for bullshit] that are happening over there. My own politics aside, there is something interesting about my life today that goes back to the event that took place on that fateful morning when I sat in first period biology. I have something to say to every white American reader:

White people, stop being scared of middle eastern food.

Seriously, this is getting a bit ridiculous. Enjoying beef shawarma will not bring a jihad on your head. I laugh every time a middle eastern restaurant calls it's food "Mediterranean" because "middle eastern" can scare off potential guests to your restaurant.

I manage a restaurant that serves middle eastern food. I've eaten food from almost every corner of the planet. Anyone who knows me knows that I used to be in very good shape, but have long since decided that a life spent on a diet is not for me. Give me Reeash, (or lamb chops). Pile on the hummus with fresh baked bread. Bathe me in garlic paste or cucumber sauce.

Many of you have had a shish kabob, right?

WRONG.

You have no idea what a shish kabob is until you go to a real middle eastern restaurant and try one.

Basmati rice, just for Indian food, right?

WRONG AGAIN, DUMMY.

Basmati is prepared fresh daily to accompany our Bazella, which is like a lamb stew, and want to have in a horse feeding bag around my face at all times.

Anyone out there like their steak rare? Come and try Kibbiniya, which is a lamb and beef tar-tar that is not only delicious when eaten with fresh baked bread, mint, and radish, but makes me feel like an T-rex because I'm eating raw meat.

At my restaurant, DarNa, we balance this food that comes from a culture that does not universally accept alcohol with a bar program that I am confident is one of the best in the DMV. Ever have a cocktail with Arak in it? I make one. Come at me.

White people, it's time. I know that you're scared, but you can't be anymore. Too much has happened to continue to be afraid of our Middle Eastern friends. Many of these restaurants have been around since before you were born. They are American families. They just want to feed you.

By all means, be angry at the perpetuators of terror. Hate the extremists who defile the name of middle easterners everywhere. Blame Osama Bin Laden. Blame the Taliban.

Just don't blame the lamb.

Some recent press photos

Sphereification

I figured that it was about time that I talked about this little gem, so I figure, lets dive into it.

The Standard Bar at Darna Restaurant is beginning to get it together. These days, every restaurant has a craft cocktail menu. Many are doing infusion and making syrups. Some are making their own tonics and sodas, pushing the mark even further. The most innovative are bottling their own cocktails. The longer I do this, the more I discover that the most taste lies in the ability to create the largest percentage of the product that goes into your cocktail. Rather than using bottled grenadine or bitters, create your own. It is my suspicion that the next generation of bars will be using their own distilled alcohol to make a creation that is entirely independent to that venue. At least that's my dream. However, I moved into doing something that many have not. After all, nobody is impressed by fresh lime or lemon juice anymore.

Sphereification is a process that was invented by the famous Ferran Andria of El Bulli restaurant, who is, by all accounts, a badass molecular gastronomist extraordinare. He discovered that if sodium alginate is added to a substance, when it is introduced into a calcium bath, it "sphereifies," or turns into a sphere containing the original substance. Please don't let the last sentences fool you, balancing the PH and sugar content of any alcohol to get it the perfect consistency is no easy task. I don't know who the first bartender to put this in booze was (it certainly wasn't me...) but as soon as the dark side of the culinary world, aka bartenders, figured out about it, it was off to the races. When this process is successful, what you have is a little orb or boozy goodness that when placed in your mouth, you experience a popping sensation as the alcoholic sphere explodes. It's unlike anything you've experienced before.

Sphereification forces me to ask myself the question Bear, a close friend and mentor of mine, asked me long ago: "Have we gone too far?" He told me a story about going to an over-rated DC cocktail  bar and he ordered his favorite drink: The Pain Killer. After agonizing minutes of painstakingly assembling this Tiki classic, the recalled the best he had ever tasted by a half drunk Jamaican that was thrown together in moments.

Frankly, I'm not sure if sphereification descends too far into bar gimmicks (This is what I mean...) It takes away from the joy and simple dominance of a well made Manhattan, but damn is it fun. Rather than just trying to concentrate on the act of sphereifying (is that a word?), I try to focus on bringing this as a new element to a cocktail. For example, at Standard Bar in Darna, we offer a Kir Royale Molecular: Taking a glass of champagne or sparkling wine and adding Chambord caviar.

Don't understand? Neither did I at first. Come in and decide for yourself.

Stay thirsty,
Eric

Dancing Fool

It is a very rare occasion that I get to slow down and really look at things. I am often poked fun at by my friends and given sideways glances from my coworkers because I am often found with my nose in a book when I have a spare moment. Reading is one of those things that immensely relaxes me. When you do have the opportunity to really stand and look around, you should take it.

I had worked a full 14 hours and was clocked out by 11pm saturday night, but decided I wanted to stay to watch the St. Pierre - Diaz fight (Sorry, GSP, but you are a boring fighter; I don't care if you win, you still bore me.). I was posted up by the dance floor because it has the best unobstructed view of the  tv. I leaned against the stage and took the time to look around. Usually I am running around like a crazy person getting work done, but for the first time I watched my clientele in action. And I discovered a couple of things.

I learned something about dance floors and how they work. There are different characters and some rules of the dance floor that I am going to go over now, just so you're a little bit better equipped.

First of all, men mostly don't know how to dance. See, I don't care to dance so I do what I know how to do: lean against a bar and drink. However men that don't know how to dance but still want to hit the dance floor (because there are ALWAYS girls dancing, but we'll get to that later...) they have a few options.

1. The "Stand and Grind": This guy wants the reward of the dance floor, which is physical contact, without the work. He will wait for a girl to choose him, and essentially grind her without really moving his feet. Funny hand gestures are encouraged. Here's a useful tutorial.
2. The "Dance 1-upper": This guy actually knows how to dance, but beware, girls don't like that. See, women go to the dance floor to be seen, whether or not they will admit it. If you dance with a girl and show them up, you're shooting yourself in the foot. 
3. The "Joke dancer" This guy doesn't know how to dance but still wants to be out there, so he goes out and dances poorly. However rather than taking himself too seriously, he sees it as an opportunity to make fun of himself. 
4. The "Delusional Dancer," who literally can't dance but thinks he can. And if you read the first three and didn't think you were any of those, congratulations, you have found your classification.

I thought that all men really fell into one of the 4 categories, until I saw him. There is a rare breed of club/lounge goer that is out there. He is moderately well dressed, has far too much hair gel and I can smell his cologne from 10 feet away. He stand in a circle of 4 girls dancing and 3 guys looking helpless. As the popular hip hop songs are playing, he doesn't dance; he recites lyrics. Every now and again he mimics a hand gesture that he must have seen in a Lil' Wayne video (like this) while he is singing the lyrics. This was hilarious on its own, reciting song lyrics to girls dancing as they watch him haplessly, until I realized what made this epic.

He didn't know the lyrics!

That's right. After watching his mouth and listening to the lyrics at the same time, it occurred to me that he had no idea what the lyrics were. He was just mouthing words and gesturing. The words were clearly off. I could just imagine the conversation in his head, as he realized he couldn't dance and didn't know the lyrics, to which he must've thought, "Well, its loud in here. Maybe nobody will notice."

I did. And it was awesome.

Yelp

Someone posted this to my facebook page. So amazing I thought I should share.

Why I hate Yelp.com

Many of you have had those experiences. I know that I have. Maybe you've had one or two or eight more shots of Jamesons than you should've, and by god, you want your ninth. Perhaps you sat on line for an hour before you got in the venue. Maybe your food was served cold. You let your anger fester all night until you get home, and in an alcohol induced rage, unleash the fury of a thousand morons upon the venue on yelp.com. It feels good, saying all of the things you wanted to say for the whole world to see with no retribution. Right?

Yelp, in theory, is a great idea. However so is communism. In practice, both fail.

I think that user generated content is great and a critique of ways that your venue can improve is invaluable data that can be utilized to improve your venue. The problem is that they let yelpers review, and many yelpers are morons. At least food reviewers know a little something about food.

The most interesting thing about yelp is the filter that they have. You see, when you submit a review, it stays for a bit and then either disappears or is kept. The problem is that the filtration process is entirely arbitrary. A 1 star from someone with 2 reviews can stay, and a 5 star from someone with two reviews can go. There is no set rules in yelp. I never knew why until I discovered that it was because they practice extortion. Yelp will call you after about 6 months and ask you to spend over $3,000 a year on "premium yelp," which essentially means that they give you some advertised hits and you have an "account manager" who takes care of your bad reviews. If you don't fork over the money, suddenly your good reviews get filtered and your bad ones stay. These guys are crooks. Yes, yelp.com, I'm talking to you. Moving on.

I'm not saying that you shouldn't yelp if you get bad service because that is an absurd notion. I am; however, saying that there are some ridiculous things that are simply your own fault that you need to own up. I can't tell you how many people gave me a bad review because they couldn't get in a club I was bartending or managing. How do you review a club that you're not dressed well enough to enter?

Sometimes when you work you get someone calling you out by name. Now, since I was an adolescent, my personality lends itself to people either loving or hating me with very little room in between. Typically it is the latter. This is because I am somewhat abrasive, sarcastic to a fault, and have a pension for sharp retorts. Luckily for me, there are many people who appreciate my personality and love me as a bartender. The following; however, are my top 5 favorite complaints on Yelp.com. None of these have been fabricated or edited, and come from work at 4 different venues.

5. "Second, you have no sensitivity training."
That is correct. I don't. That is one of the exact reasons that I choose to work in the field that I do rather than corporate America. If I worked in a cubicle, I couldn't tell you that you were being an idiot when you were. Forgive me if rather than bowing and scraping because of some illegitimate claim, (her complaints were amazing. To add to her credibility, this woman spelled 'bourgie' as 'boushey' when referring to herself; I suppose the elite are never taught to spell?) I tell you that you are being unreasonable. I don't apologize when I have nothing to apologize for. Not sorry.

4."The skinhead bartender makes a strong drink but seems to yell a lot. Is he drunk?"
Wow. Listen, lady. I am not a vain man, so I will never spend money on keeping my hair line from marching steadily to the back of my head, but skinhead is quite a leap from 'balding guy.' And guilty, I do yell a lot. That is because the music is very loud in a club, and unless we both learn sign language in the next 15 seconds, I will make no money and you will be very thirsty.

 And I wasn't drunk. Maybe.

3. "...cannot believe the nerve of that bartender. my husband asked for an old fashioned with oranges, and he just said no! Instead he brought over an old fashioned and said it's the only one he knows how to make. Luckily, my husband said it was the best old fashioned he ever had.
First of all, I kind of understand this point. I know I shouldn't do this sort of thing, but I just enjoy it too much. Most Old Fashioned's are made too damn sweet (STOP MUDDLING CHERRIES, ASSHOLES!) and I think my recipe is better than most. I sometimes make people stuff they didn't order, but almost always get a super positive reaction. But what blew my mind about this review is that she gave me ONE STAR. She said I made her husband the best cocktail he had ever had, and I get one star! Unbelievable. 

2. "Eric is like hot girls at the club. They're really annoying but really hot so whatever. He is a dick but he makes a good drink so I put up with it, and keep coming back."
I actually thought I had a much better relationship with this guy (Hi, Mark...) but that's ok. I was a bit disappointed that they didn't take the analogy further, though. If it were me, I would say something to the effect of "Eric is like a hot girl; he is just after your money and will do anything to get it." This is my second favorite simply because it's true. This felt more like a compliment.

1. "not to mention that if you complain about anything in this place the manager or the owner are the most ass holes on this earth."
This is by far and away my favorite insult about me. Cast aside the obvious, that I am an asshole, but just the grammatical structure of this sentence is legendary. Whenever I am having a bad day, I simply read this sentence and erupt in laughter. It doesn't get any better than this. I am having a t-shirt made with this on the front. A+.

The lesson, my friends, is think before you yelp. I would love to close and say it is because of a quote like "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle," but frankly, it's just because I only have so much room in my wardrobe for amazingly stupid statements you write that I make into t-shirts.

Stay thirsty,
"the most ass hole on this earth"

The Serbians

This is Alex. Notice the red bull can in the frame as Milos rushes to get in on the picture.

Door

The first lesson that I learned in my new place of business is that one must be able to do every job in the house. It was a difficult first lesson to learn. When my boss, Jin, told me it was time to learn every job in the house, I said no problem.

"Good," he said, and revealed a plunger he was hiding behind his back, "because there is a toilet clogged in the women's room." I let out a small sigh and took the plunger, hoping for a smile to crack his face. I'm sure it did as soon as my back was turned, headed towards the bathroom.

My most recent departure from the comfort and confidence I have behind the bar is working the door. Allow me to explain.

Darna, on a saturday night, is a war zone; highly organized chaos. I am quite used to the routine of putting out fires on the service floor, from dealing with guest complaints to expediting table service. I know how to run a lounge. Part of my comfort of running the club is that I know I have a few muscle bound Serbians floating around, ready to pounce. I've met a ton of bouncers in my day, and the Serbians are by far and away the best. They're always dressed nicely, they're not just big, they are tough, and have a demented sense of humor that I find particularly hilarious. The best comedian couldn't get a smile out of any of my guys, but every time I pretend to stab them with my bottle opener that looks like a butterfly knife, I get a few quality minutes of laughter.

The door at Darna was a mess. We didn't have ropes and people would simply crowd the door. No line, no order, just chaos. Finally we got ropes, and Jin would send me to the ground floor to work the door.

I'm no slouch. Anyone who knows what to look for in the broken bones in a man's face or the scars on his hands can see that I am what you would call "weathered." Years of fighting in the ring and outside of it have made me, as Sarah likes to say, "ruggedly handsome." However unlike my bouncers, I am not a large, musclebound man, so the idiots that should be intimidated by me don't really know any better. Being a small man and working the door makes the job difficult, and being the guy that ultimately decides if you get in or not, I have to take a lot of shit. After all, as Big Sean, a former bouncer once said, "I'm not a bouncer, I'm a customer service agent."

Now, the door is an animal different from the rest of the venue. It is a double sided knife because on one hand you need to make people feel valued yet exclusive. There are friends of the owners and regulars who just get in, even if the line is being held. People in the line will yell at you, (which. by the way, literally NEVER works) or they will be clever.

A few of my favorites:
Guy: Hey nice tie clip. Bruins fan eh?
Me: Thanks! You a fan?
Guy: Oh hell yea! We're gonna take the cup this year.
Me: What do you think about Timmy Thomas this year? He is putting on one hell of a show...
Guy: Thomas is the best, dude. Saving our ass left and right.
Me: TRICK QUESTION! TIM THOMAS IS SITTING OUT! NOW EVERYONE WILL WAIT!
(Line groans.)

I'm a particular fan of the old "Hey bro, I know the owner..." approach. This also rarely works, mostly because I simply tell them, "Ok, well call them. Tell them to call me on my radio and I'll let you right up."

I've also become very fond of bribery attempts. Now for your average door guy, this is a sound approach and likely your best option. This is the least effective method for me, however, because I'm already making a salary. As soon as I close the restaurant downstairs, I work the line. I'm already getting paid for the previous 14 hours of work, and this is just an exercise in organization. I'm often offered bribes, or even tips, and I always say no.

The biggest key is to try to not look at anyone, and to never get angry. You don't make eye contact because it invites excuses and I don't much feel like listening to them. More importantly, never get angry, because someone can hate you more than anything else, making them wait for an hour outside, but as soon as they get in, all will be forgiven.

Stay thirsty.

We are the cocktail makers

We are the dreamers of dreams

The Hangover Cure

Open at last, open at last, thank god almighty, we are open at last

Well, I suppose the cat is really out of the bag on this one, but Darna Restaurant, after months of setbacks and challenges, is open.

It is quite remarkable, the feeling once the doors are open. When the vision of the restaurant is just a twinkle in the owners eye, you look forward to the day that the entire staff gathers outside of the doors and then opens them. Once you open those fateful doors, the only vision one has is of a long vacation somewhere with mountains and some other poor bastard making my drinks for me. But there is no rest, only Zhul.

Drinks have always and will always be my speciality, though managing a restaurant means also stepping into the world of food. I do not think I was prepared for bridging the cultural gap on this one the way I had to. Allow me to explain...

It is a rare occasion that anyone sees meatloaf on the menu in a restaurant. Meatloaf is something that my mom makes me. It is literally one of my favorite meals by her. No matter how well it can be made by any Chef in the world, my mothers meatloaf will always be the best. Something you realize in the restaurant industry is that engaging with the food that people loved growing up is a bold choice, and you'd better get it right.

For my non-Arab readers, words like Mansaf and Molokhia mean nothing to you. To some, these words are staples of their childhood.

One of my guests, Said Durrah, told me that no matter what, no Mansaf will be as good as the one a man's mother makes. (To prove his point, his mother came in and tried ours. We got a thumbs up!)

So yes, good readers, we are open. Lunch, dinner, and beyond. Come into Darna; there is something for everyone.

Stay Thirsty,
Eric