Everybody loves drinking... especially thirsty people. Right now, in the 21st century, nearly one billion people of Earth's people lack access to clean water. They are families all over the globe. Just about every 20 seconds, like a grim metronome, a child dies from a water-borne illness. Every 20 seconds, a family watches helplessly while a little one struggles for one last breath... the last breath.
Enter a hero. In 2009, CNN selected Doc Hendley as one of its Heroes of the Year for his work to solve this crisis. His charity, Wine to Water, has been raising funds since 2004 to dig wells where clean water can be had, and to distribute filteration systems where it cannot. Doc is one man, but he does not work alone. He is getting assistance from Gary "Gaz" Regan, who is well-known in mixology circles.
Hendley and Regan are calling on us all to help save the lives of people whose only crime was being born in the wrong place at the wrong time. They are asking us to do a simple thing, a small thing -- for some of you, he is asking only that you go about your business as you normally would with no deviation at all. They are asking bartenders to donate Just One Shift, and I am asking you to join me in answering the call.
Just One Shift is a program where bartenders donate their tips from one night's work to the Wine to Water, a 501(c)(3) organization. The program runs during the second week of April, and I have chosen to donate the first night of the event. Please come to the Delafield Brewhaus after 5p.m. and give generously; 100% of my tips will go to this worthy cause, and 100% of all money donated to Wine to Water will be used to provide clean water worldwide, wherever it is needed most.
If you cannot attend, consider making a donation here. Any amount is welcome, and as little as $30 can provide clean water for a family of ten for up to five years. If you are a bartender and would like to get involved or host an event, click here. People cannot go without water to drink, and we are all so blessed by comparison. Thank your lucky stars that you are on the giving end of this proposition, and please do what you can.
For the longest time, the Glencairn glass was the gold standard for tasting spirit. Comfortable in the hand, its small pedestal gave way to a voluptuous tulip shape that concentrated the aroma of (originally) whisky. This aromatic prelude seduced the nose and eyes, preparing the palate for its own experience. The Glencairn company owns the intellectual property rights to the shape of the glass and for many years, that was the end of the story. Their company's name is laser-etched onto the bottom of the glass and in before your eyes as you drain the last drop onto your waiting tongue..
Arsilica, Inc.'s design claims to improve on this time-honoroed design, basing its glass on the science of nosing. Nosing Science has to do with the specific weight of different molecules, which is certainly salient to our work because it is the magic behind distillation. There is a long explanation here, but the short version goes something like this: ethanol is lighter than many molecules and so is first to go up the chimney of the Glencairn glass. This concentration of ethanol produces a burning sensation in the sinuses, making it difficult for the body to process the heavier molecules as they lift off the surface of the liquid in the glass.
The flavors you're really trying to nose, the smoke and grass, lavender and honey, leather and grain -- these go largely unappreciated. There are a few low-tech ways to game this problem. One is to cover the glass for a few minutes and wait for something called evaporation equilibrium, where as many molecules evaporate as re-enter the liquid. This will help you smell everything in the glass. Alternatively, you can add a dash of water to increase the overall surface tension of the liquid, decreasing the percentage of ethanol that gets into your face as you nose the liquid.
But if you want to bypass the ethanol, and you want a glass to do the work, you need a short vessel with a wide mouth that will let the alcohol lift off quickly. Then you can better detect the subtle aromas that everybody is talking about, and move yourself along the path to your own enjoyment.
On a slightly-unrelated note, the jury has returned on the question of the advisability of Whiskey Stones. (You know, those stone cubes you keep in the freezer until you put them in the glass?) I have long been suspicious of them for fear of damaging the teeth, but as it turns out, they have other flaws that relegate them to the realm of novelty, and far from being a necessity.
I have a confession to make: I am not interested in being cool. But there I was, standing with a co-worker during a lull in a big event at my job and the subject of Fernet came up. Not just any Fernet -- there are many Fernets on the market -- but Fernet Branca. I had half a bottle of this particular amaro at home and was lamenting not having brought it with me because this particular crew of bartenders would have cleared that space on my shelf in a matter of minutes. Which got me thinking....
Fernet Branca has become so popular that suggesting its powers are less than magical will make the popular crowd think less of you. John Barclay says this, "...[i]t is a class signifier, a secret handshake shared by Mixologists, Artisans, Urban Homesteaders...to gain entry into their smug underworld." Its popularity began on the West Coast, in San Francisco, where it has taken root so securely that they are alleged to drink more Fernet than any other city on earth. Its reach stretched across America and settled in the East and has touched down in a certain type of bar, all across the country. Fashionable Bartenders are ordering up rounds for friends and neophytes alike, talking about their time in San Francisco (or Argentina!), letting everyone in earshot know that they are cooler than you.
But I can't imagine why this spirit has become the gatekeeper of the Cool Club. Don't get me wrong; it's good enough. I'm sipping some right now. Fernet has a purpose; it is useful to settle the stomach. It is the color of coffee, with a complex bitter-herb profile with a mint-forward flavor and a great deal of saffron. In fact, Fernet Branca controls 75% of the world's saffron.
The formulation is, of course, proprietary, but in addition to the saffron, the recipe includes -- but is definitely not limited to -- chamomile and myrrh, aloe, rhubarb and peppermint oil, all in a base of grape spirit. It tastes like Jagermeister, but not so syrupy. In fact, the "Fernet Face" is a meme so popular I swear I remember a social media campaign centered on it. Bartenders say it affords a burst of energy similar to a double espresso, which is why they can be seen sipping it before a shift or shooting it in the wee hours for a pick-me-up.
In the age of ubiquitous coffeehouses and such a range of easily-purchased energy drinks (some actually already behind the bar - what could be more convenient?), to claim you drink Fernet for its energetic effects is as unconvincing to me as claiming to drink it for its flavor.
It is not impossible that guys like Barclay are right, that bartenders are just drinking Fernet to be cool. The Bartender, like the Chef, is susceptible to trends; trends flow through our business.. New products, concepts, designs, recipes, all these things keep us interesting to our guests, ourselves and each other. Some things, like the invention of the still, are great ideas. Other things, like this, well, we can probably live without.
But I'd like to think we're better than that. I'd like to think that we are not the shallow creatures who would choke down shots of something better sipped after dinner, at a leisurely pace, because we think it makes us look cool. While I am sure there are some who have that motive, I have another theory.
In our business, we are constantly tasting. We taste new products, new recipes, we uncover old recipes. Our palates get a workout. It may be that the bartender's palate is rather more elastic than a civilian's. I would go even further than that, though. I would venture to suggest that, like a child watching televised violence and becoming inured to those images. a bartender is immune to "Karamel" vodka and lusts after the truly authentic, no matter how shocking it might be.
So when you have the chance, raise a glass of Fernet Branca. You might not love it, but it is real and true. There will be big, strange flavors, but they will not be from the Big, Strange Flavor Factory. Even if it should go out of fashion soon, and in a way I hope it does, the fact remains that you are drinking something that has been in production for over 150 years. If only for that reason, you owe yourself this experience. Sip it and decide for yourself what the fuss is about.
