To truly understand the bar business, one must first stand behind a bar. It won’t take long, but it has to be done. The minute you have to wait on people who aren’t your friends, you will get a sense of what the real human experience is.
Sure, anybody can make mixed drinks. A gin and tonic is simply that: gin and tonic. Every other drink that exists is either adding, substituting or subtracting something from that.
But try making 10 different permutations of that with 10 more people waiting impatiently for their own versions. And now try doing that for hours on end. It ain’t for the meek.
She ordered three espresso martinis, four old fashioneds and a mojito in a clipped vaguely British accent. “Sure,” I said. “I bet you hate me,” she added.
I lined up the three martini glasses, four double old-fashioned glasses and the tall glass we use for our mojito. “Why is that?” I asked. “Because don’t bartenders hate making espresso martinis?” Two shaker glasses with ice, three shots of vodka and three of Kahlúa later, I reached around to pick up our pitcher of fresh espresso that was constantly being refreshed.
“Not really,” I said. Two large stirring beakers were placed on the rubber cocktail mat, then filled with ice and 4 ounces of whiskey in each one, followed by a squirt of our premixed old-fashioned syrup, already combining two bitters and simple syrup. “But I read somewhere that bartenders hated making them,” she said more as a statement than a .
