barman's lament

the bar was only about three hours old. in that time friends, family, and hoards of locals who had anxiously anticipated this bar's opening had lined up four deep to get their hands on a drink. the four of us, with beads of sweat decending from our brow, sloshed together mojitos and cosmos as fast as our hands could move. i recall exhausting all available space in my area with shaker tins lined up with built cocktails in front of a line of chilled cocktail glasses snaked around the bend of our oval bar, extending farther than my wingspan.

once jovial, the crowd was turning surly as they smashed together in wait for their libation. mandi and i shared a glance from her side of the bar to mine that said without words, "i don't think we're gonna make it", then quickly returning our focus to our mixing tins. following a clamourous clinking of shaker tins crashing loudly together a voice rang clearly and loudly, dragging each syllable out for maximum effect.

"If I could please have your attention! Ahem..So....You're prooobably wondering why i called this meeting".

uproarious laughter ensued.

the moments that followed still give me chills; while the simplicity and beauty of that statement is lost on most I can say now was a defining moment in my career. as the eyes and ears of the thirsty mob focused on the vested barman elevated above their eyeline, the remaining three bartenders worked feverishly with a bent ear whilst he spoke. Barry Lovell continued with a succinct but hammy speech to the patrons of the bar and the change in atmosphere was palpable. the surliness of the mob had been asuaged, their scowls turned quickly to applause, and as his oration concluded they chatted and laughed together...with drinks in their hands.

later that night, as we enjoyed a cocktail together and counted our tips Barry humbly shared with us, that was all he could think of to distract folks long enough to allow us to catch up on drink orders. our small family of bartenders shared a laugh, Barry gave me a deep look that conveyed that he passed on something significant to his successors, and i returned that look with understanding.

since working under Barry, whom we called O.G.1 for his old school status, I have been the 'teacher', as a matter of speaking, at every stop of my career. Barry discovered fresh juices and artisan spirits long after I had left his tutilage, and I've never had much of an opportunity to discuss the journeys we've both led since parting ways half a decade ago.

in that time I've managed some large and influential properties and have turned the focus of my energies towards my passion for libation technology. i've learned a great deal as a teacher, and have done my best to further the education and growth of those I'm surrounded by. the staff i hired and trained in Chicago still gives me great pride, as two of my bartenders (with somewhat pedestrian experience when we first met) were amongst the five nominated last year as best in the city by Timeout magazine. No other bar, including the Violet Hour, can claim the same. the chef i hired, in one of the smallest kitchens in the city, has built quite a name for herself. the bar, whose beverage program I had fashioned, is still one of the finest in the city using only artisan spirits (read:not a single bottle of stoli or grey goose). but I haven't had a mentor since Barry Lovell.

i suppose it's not neccessary after a certain point, as one finds ways to grow without the tutilage of another. having immersed myself in the northwest cocktail scene I've certainly become aware of certain aspects of technique and hisorical integrity that I hadn't paid much heed to as of yet. the good bartenders here, and the good ones are exceptional, have a wealth of knowledge to share and are rightly well regarded in the global community.

one thing I miss in this cocktail scene, however, is the art and showmanship that few posess. Barry Lovell was my Jerry Thomas, a showman and raconteur who could make your experience at his bar rail one that you would never forget. i feel a deep gratitude for my place in the world each day, but it is with great lament that I recount my short apprenticeship. As years pass and I forget the names of barbacks come and gone, I take great delight in passing along the stories and Barryisms I gained in my formative years behind the rail. I never miss an opportunity to remind the 'kids' that 'rockstars have no rules.'

and so, as I look forward to a weekend crowd at my bar piled four deep for stirred rye/amaro/stonepine cocktails, I'll always keep a couple of shaker tins nearby in case I need to buy some time.

"Ahem....Soooooo...You're proooobably wondering why I called this meeting..."

Storming the Gates; Stories of a Party Crasher

I suppose this post is not so much a 'how to', but more of a 'well, that happened' sort of thing. I don't neccessarily recommend this approach but it worked out well in our case. The following chronicle of my Tales of the Cocktail is that of an ill planned trip with debauchery as its goal. It should be said that I greatly appreciate the hospitality and kindness of the places and people that made my trip such an amazing experience, and in no way do I take for granted the entree we experienced. I know that next year will be markedly different in how I approach the festivities, but this year was pretty epic. Keep in mind this is written well after the fact and may or may not be a factual account of what actually went down. I know, I'm a terrible blogger; I'm working on it so BACK OFF! :)

K, so I booked the trip maybe a week or so prior after much hemming and hawing from Mary and Fox as to whether or not we could or should go. Once booked our primary concern was lodging. Fortunately @tallerjen had a great in with Mariott and found us rooms a couple blocks away from the Monteleone Hotel, where all the Tales shenanegins were taking place, for something like $40 per night. Once we had secured a place to crash we did nothing, except pack frantically the day we were to depart. We met up at Fox's place where she was sewing Lewis bags to peddle at the whathaveyou and somehow were sold into indentured serventry an hour before our flight left-mind you I've sewn maybe A ripped pair of jeans or two, and poorly, in my entire life-and proceeded to help her knock out a dozen or so bags before our ride to PDX arrived.

Right, so after a double Woodford Reserve and a pint of Rogue Dead Guy in the airport we made the plane. I spent the layover in Houston typing for Imbibe a bitters recipe that should appear on their website soon, all the while feeling a little creeped out that I was in 'George Bush Airport'. Upon arrival in NOLA we hopped a cab to the wrong hotel, which fortunately was close to where we were actually staying. Since Jen had to check us in, and she didn't arrive until later that day, we decide that beniets and coffee with Tommy Klus was the best plan from there. Which led to a sweaty jaunt around the quarter that ended with giant Hurricane cocktails in souvenier plastic cups by the river, and a failed attempt to reply with the attached word document to Imbibe featuring the aforementioned bitters recipe. We walked back towards the hotel, where we had our first proper drink if you can call it that. Fox had a Sazerac, Mary a White Russian, and I believe I had a Vieux Caree at the Monteleone. It was kind of a drag at that bar; a brilliant rotating bar but the barman was so frantically making brandy milk punches that he evidently forgot how to make good drinks across the board. Ah well, I'm sure by that point he was sick of annoying bartenders criticizing his every move so I enjoyed my libation with some commiseration. It was super cool to run into Paul McGee, another Chicagoan, of the Whistler (my absolute favorite bar in Chi) while signing up for the only sanctioned seminar we were to attend during our stay (Gin & Prohibition featuring David Wondrich and two Simons). From there we ran across not one but two of my former Chicago compatriots, Mr. Matty J Seiter (now of Santuraria in St. Louis) and the venerable Danny Shapiro of Perennial Chicago(my former barback turned 'next big thing' as subtly decreed by my boy Dan D'Oliviera). Drinks at Absinthe House were called for, and though Mary was unsuccessful in her attempts to purchase the (I think) 1985 Old Overholt on the shelf we did have some nice cold beers to quench the heat with chasers of Matt's Sweedish Punsch from apothocary bottles. After running into a few other familiar faces on the street we were welcomed to air conditioning at our new home for the week.

We proceeded to hear from Matty J about a party later that night at some mansion that he was sure to get us in to, seeing as he allegedly had two extra tickets. We were famished so we decided to meet Quinn for a bite beforehand, and since Matty was positive that the mansion party was formal I donned a suit sans tie. As we ran across Quinn, an absolute gentleman and one of the true masters I had the pleasure of meeting, the Beefeater double decker bus was parked and waiting in front of the Monteleone. As people, including Dan D and Matty J, boarded the bus we bumped into LivetheLushLife who insisted we join her camera crew and attend the Beefeater event. Fucking cool, we were totally on board with that although without the Rold Golds Quinn brought with Mary most likely would've thought otherwise. It was hot and humid as you may expect at that point.

The Beefeater party was as indulgent a party as I've ever been to, very Alice in Wonderland style with opulance at every turn. We happened to, after a short ride with some super chill videographers (who turned us on to the Green Goddess), be some of the first arrivals at the party. Conveniently enough we were first in line for Audrey Saunders to mix us a cocktail with Aperol and Beefeater Summer. After some awkward sociality, brilliant punch and cocktillian jikantery from Robert Hess, and running into Tommy and a host of other peeps we bounced out to get a decent bite to eat before the mansion shindig. Green Goddess seemed to be the right place to go, as the local reco is always the right one to follow. Once there Mary was texting back and forth with Daniel of TDL regarding joining up before the party. Unfortunately, or fortunately maybe, dinner at the Goddess is not like that of a drive thru. We were treated with the most personal of service from the chef/owner and had one an incredible meal. The drink list showed traces of brilliance without refinement and the the food was made with heart with incredible components in the sweaty limited space. Go there, it will be worth it I assure you.

From there we found our way to the party; I can say without a single doubt that this was the best party I have ever been to. Picture a party with some incredible bar folk crafting brilliant cocktails, punch, scotch, cigars, killer food, live music in an acropolis-like gazebo, and shooting the breeze with the most accomplished folks in the industry. We walked to the front of the line under the assumption that we were on the list with Matt, which we weren't, and proceeded to somehow grease our way into the gig. Having intimate conversations with PDXers like Daniel, Adam Robinson, Ricky Gomez, Neil Kopplin, many Chicagoans, SFers, Seattleans and NYers was the essence of what Tales is about. Talking through the ins and outs of opeinging up your own bar with folks that have not only done it but succeeded valiantly is the ultimate in terms of networking, and smoking cigarettes with a NY Sour in hand with Rocky Yeh by the only oscillating fan outdoors is the ultimate in terms of socializing. My only lament was the suit, f u Matty but barmen shouldn't put on airs. Result: Best. party. ever. Thank you Hendricks Gin!

We retired late that night, with swag bottles Mary had lifted now depleted and most likely in Rocky's room 'o swag. Pretty confident we did Absinthe House till late that night, and pretty sure DrinksWithMindy was rocking her "Party in Morgenthaler's Room" tank top that night. They sort of blend together now, each night being a remonsterization of the night before. I can tell you that unlike Portland the drinking crowd pushed the excess, not surprisingly given the context, to the point of combustion. The next couple days followed suit with trips to Cure/Iris/Tonique and more great food and drink. We did have the pleasure of joining Mr. Benjamin Schiller and Dejorn Huffman for dinner at Arnaud's(which took place as the Swag-off went down), which may have been the highlight of my trip. After a Saz at the bar Benjamin ordered a nice Sancerre to go with our first course, and I followed suit with an '05 Haut Beauseujeur Bordeax which went nicely with my bacon wrapped, fois stuffed, quail. From there Dejorn, one of my favorite people in the world, had to sprint to the Bols Genever event which we sauntered to after dessert. Mr. Jacob Grier had arrived that day, and what better place to meet up than over a 'little headbutt' at Grapevine in NOLA. Such a great representation from Portland at Tales, I was and still am so proud to have been a part of it. Unfortunately Mr. David Shenaut was unable to make it down, and I believe upon leaving the Bols event Quinn and I wistfully albeit drunkenly bromanticized Dave, who I consider to be the most talented barman in the northwest (I'll let you know after I sit at Murray's bar in Seattle, but I'm pretty confident in this one-I had the pleasure of witnessing a spectacle of flair on one of his last nights at Teardrop-Obie Wan Shenobi, the return of Neon). Ben took D home and met up briefly at Absinthe House where the debauchery had reached a creshendo. We saw everyone that night, and unfortunately there was too much booze in the air to make any real connections. Suffice it to say that drinks at Cure and Iris that eve were incredible and restored faith in the national drink scene after a meh experience everywhere else.

We needed to recover a bit after that and courtesy of Bols Genever we had that opportunity by way of free cruiser bikes with which to tour the city. We sweatily and awkwardly at first pedalled our way out of the quarter into the real corridors of the city of N'Awlans. Coffee and junk store shopping highlighted our ride, along with a creepy trip to a voodoo shop and some haunting photos taken by Fox. We grabbed cocktails 'to go' from a dicey place in the quarter, a harrowing experience from where I sat. I was so thirsty, and had been craving a well made Hemmingway Daiquiri all day- so I order one from the barkeep, and he looks at me like I'm an alien. I see there are no Luxardo products on the backbar, so I ask him to make me a standard daiquiri. He reaches for the blender...no, thank you, just a shaken daiquiri please...nope, not like that just 2 oz rum 1 oz "fresh" lime juice and a half ounce simple please...he proceeds to free pour around 4 oz Mohawk rum, and tells me that he has some fresh lime juice *ah, here it is* in this little lime shaped bottle of RealLime, finished with some stock sour mix and lazily shaken and dumped into a souvenier cup. amazingly, and you can imagine how crushed and horrified I am at this point, I drank it down without as much disdain as one might expect from a snob such as myself. It's like multiplying negatives I guess, so many bad things equal one halfway decent thing if the math is right. At least that's how I've come to terms with that experience. It did provide the fuel neccessary to get us back to the hotel in one piece with minimal damage to the bikes. For the record, the bike rental people were ah-mazing, I think Mary still stays in touch with them and shares family photos, they made us feel so welcome and were super close to inviting us over for dinner. I totally would have accepted.

I think the last night we did Cure with Daniel, whom I respect so much not only as an amazing barman and entrepreneur but as a gentleman. His awareness of social situations is something I've yet to encounter elsewhere, and his humble yet commanding presence is the penultimate representation of Portland beverage culture past and present. I'll most likely regret this gushing post later, but today I stand enamored with Portland and its personalities.

So after a few more ridiculous excursions we boarded our respective planes and groggily returned home to our loving northwest. As Neil said, "give me a big green hug Portland"...So glad to be home, and equally grateful to have had the experience of Tales with the people I did. So in closing, one can simply buy a ticket and show up at Tales of the Cocktail with no agenda and have a comprehensive experience simply by working in the industry for 10 or so years and busting one's ass thus forming lasting relationships that will get you into all the parties...

I know I left a few things out, like the Super Dope Diageo tasting (best cocktails of the entire trip) that we snuck into twice (once before it started and once with Holliss Bulliet), but that is a not so brief snapshot of one man's Tales of the Cocktail experience. Hopefully next year will be less haphazard. Prost!!!!

Vieux Caree Cocktail

3/4 oz Brandy
3/4 oz rye whiskey
3/4 oz sweet vermouth
1/4 oz Benedictine
dash Peychaud's Bitters
dash Angostura Bitters
stir with ice
strain into glass
garnish: lemon twist

glass: old fashioned

tools: strainer, bar spoon, channel knife

out to lunch

6.30.10

After presenting a whiskey tasting this afternoon it was a challenge to accomplish anything productive, so it seemed like a good time to re-introduce myself to the twitterverse. Thanks to Dan @Prost for the hospitality whilst I spent some quality time with my Blackberry over a late lunch of Optimator and a killer Pretzel sandwich. Now that I'm all set up I'll try to post a bit more frequently despite my allergy to the social media craze.

The locals tell me that summer is finally here in P-town, but that remains to be seen as far as I'm concerned. Nice, but not what I think of for this time of year. Well with summer in mind I've finally put some new potions out there for Portlanders to enjoy. Still in flux with personnel at Irving Street so tried to keep things simple and user friendly for the bar staff while keeping technique and aesthetic in mind. Installing them two at a time until the staff gets comfortable with more challenging recipes. Really excited to finally move into my own cocktail list; when Dan mentioned he and JM came by I winced a bit at what may have been percieved from the existing list. On the up side it's still a new joint and there's a lot of room for growth. I've been holding my breath but I think I can announce the addition of the talented Fox_Zilla to ISK, whom I have been recruiting for some time now. A big deal in my book, and a huge step in making ISK a legitimate cocktail destination in the Northwest.

Tales is right around the corner and Fox and I will both be heading down, along with Mary B and a host of other talented Pdxers. I feel terrible for anyone outside of Nola who goes out for a cocktail during that time, damn near every good barman has an "out to lunch" sign hanging in their well. Looking forward to hanging with Mr. Schiller and some of the Chicago set as well as conversing with some brothers in arms from the national scene. If I run into anyone wearing an Olde English D I may kiss them on the mouth-fair warning-but Detroit, all of Michigan for that matter, needs at least one good cocktail bar to hang its hat on and if there's some representation at Tales that's a pretty good step. That remains to be seen if any progress is to be had in the forgotten realms of the midwest. Thankfully there are events like Tales and the Manhattan Cocktail Classic that work to unite communities often cut off from the progressive nature of beverage culture.

One of the most regrettable moments of my time managing In Fine Spirits in Chicago is related to TOTC. Ben Schiller, whom I hired as a server slash bartender and is now one of the most well regarded barmen in all of Chicago, had in a fairly bassackwards sort of way requested time off to attend Tales. At the time the bar was beginning to garnish some great local press and establish a name for itself, not to mention we had a skeleton crew, and I was unable to furnish this request. Fortunately Benjamin is attending this year's event and we can toast to what an asshole boss I was, and for how far we've both come since slaving to build a reputable cocktail bar in a neighborhood that wasn't ready for it. Hopefully all is forgiven and our cities can work together to further the cause of introducing people to quality in their drinks. Cheers to the enduring bonds we share as barmen in the absolute best time to be one!

sho-nuff

So getting settled in a new city is never easy, but as far as my time here is concerned it has been as agreeable as I could hope for. Such a great cocktail scene here, the tiniest dive bars are firing Corpse Revivers from their wells, and the people pouring them are fantastic.

Recently I've had the pleasure of joining the lovely Ms. Bartlett for a sampling of Teardrop's new menu overhaul, vodka recipe experimentation/pig explosion at Gilt, a Amaro & s'mores at Laurelhurst Market, and bumped into some new friends while enjoying a Chauncey cocktail at Beaker and Flask. I still find it hilarious sometimes how small of a town it seems here. Frequently as I'm introduced to someone their reply is "You're from Chicago, right?", and I'm pretty sure it has nothing to do with my accent. The major difference I've seen here so far is that cocktillians take their craft super seriously; not to say that the barmen of the midwest don't have a similar zeal, but technique is more important here than reputation. Looking forward to learning all I can from some crazy talented people here. Taking this time to dust off some bad habits, working on my 'hard shake' stance, and watching 'The Last Dragon' for extra focus...Sho-nuff.

Irving Street is coming together these days, starting to flesh out my first northwest cocktail list. From my limited explorations and my short time in the scene here I feel that there is a niche left unfulfilled in the local beverage market. While the cocktails are certainly craft there seems to be a lacking culinary edge around town. After having the good fortune of working with Mr. Pikus (formerly of Alinea) at Perennial and listening to him geek out about molecular gastronomy I think there may be an opportunity to bring some of that ideology to Portland. Might be a slow build but I think by the end of summer we could be doing some pretty rad, simple, molecular cocktails at Irving. First thing's first though, focusing on balanced drinks that can be executed efficiently for the summer business volume. This weekend I'll be heading to the big farmer's market and Monday I'll be spending the holiday working on tinctures, syrups, potables, and perhaps some alginates. Fortunately the Pearl clientele is a lot like the Lincoln Park & Gold Coasters I'm familiar with...I'm sure we can awaken the 'Dirty Bird' crowd to some interesting libations here as well...

Chauncey Cocktail

3/4 oz Copper Fox Rye whiskey
3/4 oz Martin Miller's Westbourn Gin
1/2 oz Carpano Antiqua
1/2 oz Germain Robin brandy
dash Regan's Orange bitters

stir and strain, no garnish required

pdx

Well after three long days blazing a trail across the plains and over the rockies I arrived in the promised land. While I'd looked forward to the experience of a cross country road trip since discovering Kerouac in my early teens, I don't have any desire to do it again. Not to say that there weren't moments of breathtaking scenery and some good times along the way, just a taxing journey.

I did have the good fortune of stopping in Templeton, Iowa, home of my favorite prohibition era rye whiskey. Thanks to Keith, Scott, Killmer, and the rest of the TR gang for being so accomodating. Can't forget what one corporate suit told Keith about his rye: "your story's worth more than your whiskey". Well the whiskey's worth every penny, and the story...priceless.

So upon arrival in this fantastic little town, I look forward to picking up where I left off in Chicago. You can find me at the brand spanking new 'Irving St. Kitchen' crafting libations, and I can't wait to work with the tremendous array of product on the back bar. So much Amaro and Fernet Branca it crossed my mind that Mr. Benjamin Schiller himself must have put the purchase order through to the OLCC. Gonna be a fun ride, the owners group and the management team are among the finest folks I've had the pleasure of working with. And with so many interesting craft distilleries and wineries in the area, we'll be sure to keep things interesting. The food and wine programs each deserve their own chronicalling, but for now I'll leave it to the public to comment on. With the luxury of a Saturday night off I think I may pick up some local pear butter at the farmer's market, smuggle in some Templeton, and have one of the guys at ISK fire up a cocktail I placed on my first Perennial drink list. My gut tells me that it will go nicely with the Slow Roasted Duck w/gingersnap-brown basmati and "pan drippings"....

Orchard Ridge

2 oz Templeton Rye whiskey
3/4 oz Domaine de Canton
3/4 oz lemon juice
1/3 oz simple syrup
2 heaping bar spoons of Pear Butter

build in shaker tin, shake and strain into bucket glass over large irregular ice block. add a slice of pear, ginger, or simple swath of lemon for a garnish if ya like.

Prost!
Bw

the oregon trail

With a couple days to spare I am pleased to announce the arrival of spring cocktails at Perennial. Based on popular demand, and threats from Emily and some other Boka group employees and guests, some of the cocktails have been carried over that remain seasonally relevant. I ended up keeping one of my faves on the list as sort of a 'happy trails' listing. The inspiration for this one came after my last trip to Portland, which ultimately has lead me to pick up and move there. I look forward to immersing myself in the local culinary and cocktail scene, which is quite progressive, as well as working hands-on at some of my favorite distilleries and wineries. So with that in mind here's a tasty concoction that I hope to prepare for tipplers in the Pacific Northwest very soon.

Oregon Woods

1.5 oz Ransom Old Tom gin
.75 oz Zurbenz Stone Pine liqueur
1 oz fresh lemon juice
.5 oz simple syrup
dash angosturra bitters
egg white

add white of one egg to shaker tin, building syrups and juices first followed by potables and bitters. dry shake for 5-10 seconds with whisk from hawthorne shaker. remove whisk, add ice, and shake vigorously until a nice frost appears on outside of shaker tin. strain into coupe glass and garnish with three drops of angosturra bitters and one smacked sage leaf.

Cheers!

ides of april

Well spring has hit Chicago, and as the weather climbs above 40 degrees we see locals flocking to outdoor watering holes for libations en masse. I've been working on Perennial's cocktail list and think I have it pretty well nailed down. The Lincoln Park clientele is equal parts adventurous gastronome and underexposed tippler, so bridging that gap can be a delicate tightrope walk. The restaurant gets their fair share of trixies who love a bright pink foo-foo 'martini' in their hand, and understanding this venue wasn't ready to be a full fledged cocktail bar took some time for me. I hadn't shaken a martini in years, unless a Bradford was properly ordered, so it took some time for me to get over my pretensions and give the people what they want. After all, the clients are what keep this industry moving, not the culinarians as much as we'd like to think so. So finding a happy balance of innovative beverage options with a few classics mixed in that could appeal to both adventurous and conservative imbibers has been my mission. So far people have taken notice and the beverage culture has made great strides in exposing the clientele to more interesting spirits than Effen black cherry.

Next step, having conceptualized the menu and applied some recipe platforms that work on paper, is testing. I have my sodium alginate, calcium chloride, geletan, and all kinds of other goodies en route so we should be able to launch next week without issue. The list is the most ambitious to date for Perennial, and though there are some 'safe' plays there is at least an underlying theme of artisan ingredients in everything produced. And as any craft barman will tell you, at the end of the day that's what it's all about. Here's hoping the thirsty Chicago crowd agrees.

Village Idiot

1.25 oz Del Maguey Chichicapa Mezcal
.75 oz Combier
2 heaping barspoons of Clearbrook farms strawberry preserves
1 oz fresh lemon juice
1/2 oz simple syrup
shake and strain into double old fashioned glass over large irregular ice block
served alongside amuse spoon of blood orange espuma (gelatin foam)

exploits of an epicurian

Occasionally we are fortunate enough to find ourselves amidst a confluence of circumstances that expose us to new and interesting experiences. As I've been asking myself 'why write a blog? the answer is quite simply Propinquity. At the moment I'm near the swirling epicenter of Chicago's culinary scene and am soon to be immersing myself in another progressive market. Hopefully I can share this journey and exchange perspectives along the way.





At the moment I'm doing my best to stay centered by creating a spring cocktail program for Perennial restaurant in Chicago's Lincoln Park district. Tomorrow I begin working on this project and am planning on a rollout the day after Easter. Undoubtedly Easter will be ridiculously busy for the restaurant and I'm already anticipating making a few "Perennial Rose", the first cocktail I created for the Boka group which continues to be an extremely popular selection:



Perennial Rose



1 oz Plymouth sloe gin

1/2 oz St. Germain elderflower liqueur

1/2 oz fresh grapefruit juice


dash of Peychaud's bitters


Build in mixing tin, shake and strain into champagne flute. Top with Sparkling Rose (I use a sparkling Grenache) and garnish with a lemon peel.





Cheers,

B Wise