Mayahuel at Jake Walk

I was throwing a leg over a stool at Carroll Gardens' Jake Walk when I noticed a new cocktail on the menu. Set apart from the rest by being framed in a box, it was called the Tequila Gumption, and included  reposado tequila, mezcal, maraschino liqueur and Angostura and orange bitters. Below the ingredients was the line "Created by Katie's Boyfriend, Mayahuel, NYC."

In cocktail circles, that's fairly easily decipherable code for Phil Ward. Katie is Katie Stipe, a bartender alum of Flatiron Lounge, Clover Club and others. Since it opened two years ago, Jake Walk has established itself as a favorite hang of neighborhood bartenders, Stipe and Ward being among the most loyal. Phil created the new cocktail as a favor to Jake Walk owners Ari Form and Matt DeVriendt.

The Tequila Gumption is an unmistakable Phil Ward cocktail, fruity and smoky, with notes of orange, rhubarb, grapefruit, avacado and bell pepper. Close your eyes and sip it, and you are instantly transported from Carroll Gardens to the East Village and Mayahuel.

Later that evening, I stopped by Vandaag, the new genever bar on Second Avenue, where Katie Stipe is doing some consulting. Stipe was there, and Phil Ward happened to be hanging out at the bar. I asked them about the Tequila Gumption's amusing attribution. "They said we could credit it any way we wanted," said Stipe.

What's in a Name?

No one can accuse today's cocktail lounge owners of waxing dull when they christen their bars. Jake Walk in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn, was named after a Depression-era disease born of greed, bad liquor and dipsomania. And it's doubtful you'd ever catch a restaurant putting out a shingle as macabre as Death & Co.

Some joints call themselves after once-classic, now nearly forgotten cocktail (The Pegu Club, The Clover Club), while others choose the name first and think up a cocktail to go with it later (Jake Walk, Weatherup). Do these namesake libations actually make for good drinking, or just good copy? To find out, I put in some very casual research, spread out over a number of night.

Starting from the top, a Pegu Club at the Pegu Club makes for great drinking! This mix of gin, orange curacao, lime juice and bitters—invented at a British Colonial Officer's Club in Ragoon—is stunningly presented here under a blanket of fine ice and an ornately engraved lime wedge. (I've tried to created this icy effect at home and failed miserably.) It is brisk, bright and refreshing—and very popular, if my bartender was to be believed.

The eponymous drink of Julie Reiner's newly opened Clover Club in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn, is a frothy, egg-based potion that was once the title tipple of a group of some riotous Philadelphia swells. Reiner makes the frothy concoction with the original raspberry syrup—not its dreaded latter-day substitute: Grenadine—and to the mix she adds vermouth, an ingredient found an early printing of the cocktail, but missing in action. The barkeep's vigorous shaking integrated Mr. Gin and friends beautifully. It may look like breakfast, but it makes a good dinner.

Prospect Heights' Weatherup is named after its owner, Kathryn Weatherup, and so, thus, is the drink Weatherup. The most expensive cocktail on the menu ($15), it is composed of a kingly amount of Cognac, balanced with Amaretto Lazzaroni and lemon juice and decorated with a huge spiral of orange peel. The menu's jest that no more than two are allowed per customer is no joke: this drink will knock you down. Tasty, but approach with caution.

The Jake Walk's signature drink was compiled by cocktail historian David Wondrich, no less. It is made of equal parts reposado tequila, white rum, St. Germain elderflower liqueur and fresh lime juice, with 2 dashes Peychaud's bitters. The resultant refreshing concoction tastes, somewhat paradoxically, almost exactly like a pink grapefruit—which is perhaps both its appeal and its limitation. But hey: it tastes good, and the gals I was drinking with uttered no complaints whatsoever.

Amer Picon Taste Test

OK, so more on my homemade Amer Picon.

Being reasonably satisfied with the homemade brew I made based on Jamie Boudreau's recipe for the hard-to-get digestive, I took my clear, unmarked bottle to Jake Walk, a local cocktail joint of my acquaintance where I know they have a bottle of real Amer Picon. By real, I mean the version of the amaro that has been produced in France in recent years—a recipe I am led to believe is different from what was sold in the early 20th century.

As I understand Boudreau's story, he created the homemade Amer Picon to match the taste of the currently sold amaro. But when he took it to the Tales of the Cocktail convention and had some experts try it against a flask of the original, they decreed it matched the Real McCoy.

Ari Form and Matt DeVriendt were on duty when I passed through the door at Jake Walk, and, spotting my plain, bottle-shaped bag, knew what I was up to. They produced the Amer Picon and we taste-tested it next to my home-brewed potion. First of all, color. My stuff was visibly lighter than the legit Amer Picon, with an orangey-brown hue. Then the taste. The store-bought Amer Picon was deeper in flavor with more herbal, bitter and chocolate qualities. The brighter citrus and orange flavors came through in mine—not surprisingly, given at the orange bitters and tinctures that went into it. They were definitely different beasts.

They concluded my stuff to be a success, and we agreed that, while both were good, the homemade stuff—supposedly the original flavor of Amer Picon—was better suited to mixing cocktails. It had more vim and life and wasn't as heavy. It would marry better with other flavors. It would float to the top and sparkle, not weigh the drink down.

Is this the end of my Amer Picon obsession? Maybe not. I have a friend going to Europe soon and she promised to bring me back a bottle of the drink. Stay tuned.

One Derby, Three Juleps

I am back, readers, from my B.A.R. exam and I can't remember when I last felt so utterly exhausted. I'll have more to say about the experience in coming weeks, but for now let me talk about how, beverage-wise, I well honored the Kentucky Derby today.

I kinda like horse-racing, as sports go, but I do not get to the track very often. In fact, I've been to exactly one horse race, and that was harness racing, which, as I understand it, is an equine sport that slightly embarrasses true horse-racing fans.

BUT, I like the idea of the Derby. The pomp. The dressing up. The betting. The sporting life. And the iconic drink, The Mint Julep. Feeling like a more skilled drinkmaker after going to B.A.R., I made myself a Julep with a bottle of Buffalo Trace bourbon I just bought. I'm growing fresh mint in my window, so I'm well ahead of the game. I realize, however, that I'm not yet a master of the crushed ice needed for the drink. My cocktail seemed a little watery.

Later, while in Manhattan, I stopped by Little Branch in the Village. They were ready for me. The sharp barkeep offered to make me one of three different Juleps. I chose one called a Jersey Julep. It featured Apricot Liqueur. Apricot Liqueur has been on my mind since Tuesday, when Robert Cooper—who invented St. Germain elderflower liqueur, and who took the B.A.R. course with me—bought a bottle at Astor Place Wine and Spirits and gave me a sip. Yum. The drink was tasty, if a bit off-balance. The bourbon and apricot didn't quite meld. And the bartender knew his ice. The glass was topped by a veritable mound of shaved ice, which never melted!

On the way home, I stopped by Jake Walk in Brooklyn. I was shocked to heard from the Bartender that my Julep was the first that had been ordered that day. What is wrong with these people? I perfectly good excuse to drink a special cocktail and they blow it? They made it differently here, not building it, but gently shaking it, and serving it on the rocks. Still, it tasted as a julep should, and put my to shame.

The Brooklyn Cocktail Wave

The New York Sun today published my thumbnail survey of the new (and I mean new) Brooklyn cocktail scene. In the past six months, three major cocktail joints—all on a par with the best of the Manhattan places, or at least getting there—have opened in the Borough of Kings: the Hideout, Weather Up and Jake Wake. On its way is the The Clover Club, which has been under construction for months on Smith Street. It could well overshadow the others once it gets up and running.

I've been to all of these, and like each for different reasons. The Hideout is closest the secretive, elite aesthetic you get at PDT or Milk & Honey. Weather Up is attractive because of its outpost aura; it's really in the middle of nowhere. Jake Walk is good is you just to sit back and be yourself, free from the judging eyes of poseurs. Welcome all!

Brooklyn’s Artisanal Cocktails
By ROBERT SIMONSON

Brooklyn residents no longer have to trek to Manhattan and knock on specific unmarked doors below 14th Street to get a perfectly made Sazerac. The cocktail revolution, which has reintroduced a generation to the historical and artisanal joys of tippling, has crossed the bridge in recent months. One of the most anticipated new watering holes, Cobble Hill’s Clover Club — from the creators of Manhattan’s Flatiron Lounge — won’t be open for a couple months. But here are three others that are stocked and ready to pour.

The Hideout

Following the psuedo-speakeasy aesthetic so popular across the East River, this snug, swank tavern sits behind three garage doors in a former 19th-century stable. Vaunted British-born mixologist Charlotte Voisey was drafted to fashion the cocktail menu — drinks are $12–$14 each — currently marked by high amounts of fresh muddled fruit and invention (rose petal-infused simple syrup). Co-owner Asio Highsmith, who points out that none of the scotches on hand are younger than 12 years, commented: “We don’t make mojitos.” (266 Adelphi St. at DeKalb Avenue, Fort Greene, 718-855-3010)

Weather Up

For this oasis on a desolate block in Prospect Heights, owner Kathryn Weathup joined forces with Sasha Petraske, who, like Ms. Voisey, helped shape Manhattan’s cocktail culture; he runs Milk and Honey on the Lower East Side and Little Branch in the West Village. The bar has started out slowly, with just a few featured libations, and plans to venture into wine. Signature drink: the Weather Up ($15), a potion made of amaretto, cognac, and lemon juice. Only two a customer are allowed — and that’s a good thing. (589 Vanderbilt Ave. at Dean Street, Prospect Heights, no phone number yet)

Jake Walk

Patrick Watson and Michele Pravda, owners of a mini mercantile empire on Smith Street that includes wine shop Smith & Vine and the cheese store Stinky, are behind this new saloon. Fittingly, the cocktail program shares the spotlight with a choice wine list and delectable cheese plates. Still, any bar that features both a Star (apple brandy, sweet vermouth and Angostura bitters) and a Bijou (gin, Chartreuse, sweet vermouth, and orange bitters) — two classic, pre-Prohibition-era drinks ($9 each) — on the same menu knows its way around a cocktail shaker. (282 Smith St. at Sackett Street, Carroll Gardens, 347-599-0294)

It's All Jake

Rain kept me away from Jake Walk, Carroll Garden's new wine, cocktail and cheese bar, on Friday and Saturday. But on Sunday the coast was clear, so I struck out for the Smith Street tavern, which is owned and run by Patrick Watson and Michele Pravda, the married duo behind wine store Smith & Vine and cheese chop Stinky.

Both told me that I made the right choice in waiting; Friday had been a nuthouse, with people two deep at the bar. There was still good traffic on Sunday night, but light enough that I easily scored a place at the bar. Serving up drinks with Ari Form and Matt DeVriendt, managers at Smith & Vine and partners in the new venture. They were properly dressed in shirtsleeves and ties neatly tucked within their shirts. Ari makes for a particularly striking, 19th-century figure; he is the only bartender I know who sports true muttonchops.

The space is handsome, but not fussy. An L-shaped bar, tables along two walls, what looked like orange, brocade wallpaper on the fall war, a shelf for books. Halfway between nondescript bar decor and the over-designed fussiness of some of the newer cocktail dens.

There is more food to be had here than at most wine and/or cocktail joints, most of it coming from Stinky. If you are big on the classic pairing of wine and cheese, this is your place. (There is a heading for "Cheese wines.") I did not partake of anything more than olives. A lot of folks were ordering up cheese plates, though.

If you are familiar with wines on offer at Smith & Vine, then you know the wine to be had at Jake Walk. Lots of interesting, quality small producers from France, Italy, Germany, Austria and the U.S., and a good share of not-widely-known varietals. Don't look for any of the big-market names you see for sale at the corner liquor shop. (Thank God.) There are at least 30 wines by the glass. The prices by the bottle look quite reasonable. There's also plenty of beer, scotch, bourbon and, I was happy to see, rye, including Black Maple Hill.

As for cocktails, the menu list is short. About five each of spirits-based cocktails and wine-based cocktails. (Though the boys behind the bar they have the ability to make many more.) Since I know Smith & Vine's wines and Stinky's cheeses, I focused on the cocktails as the newest part of this Brooklyn mini-empire. I first chose the Cotton Cocktail, because it has rye in it, and rye's where I gravitate. Completing the drink were dry and sweet vermouth, orange bitters and absinthe. The bartender was using Wild Turkey. It was light and went down easy.

I was about to order a wine-based cocktail after that, but when I learned Ari knew how to make a Sazerac, I grew weak and regressed, falling back on my favorite drink. He made a fine example of said cocktail, though a touch too heavy on the simple syrup for my tastes. Still, it had that purity of taste and beautiful color you like to see in a Sazerac.

These drinks, as well as other cocktails around the bar, were served in a wide variety of glasses. I couldn't figure out the system and the random glassware may actually be part of the vision. I don't know. The man next to me had ordered a Manhattan and expressed mild disgruntlement at not getting it in "a proper Manhattan glass." Cocktailians. They're hard to please.

Still, the place is already off to a good start and if it doesn't stay wildly popular, I'd be surprised.

New (Possibly Very Good) Wine Bar to Open in Brooklyn

I have complained in this space in the past about the lack of a good wine bar in the Cobble Hill-Carroll Gardens area. Well, that situation may be rectified as early as tomorrow.

Patrick Watson and Michele Pravda, the nice couple behind the nabe's best wine store, Smith & Vine, and best cheese store, Stinky, are set to open a new bar on Smith Street, just a jog from their other businesses. Patrick has talked about doing this for a couple years now, but made it seem a long way off. Guess the closing of nearby (and awful) saloon Quench was the sign he was looking for.

Joining them as partners, according to the NY Sun, will be Smith & Vine manager Ari Form, who spent four years with Danny Meyer's Union Square Hospitality Group, and Matt DeVriendt, another Smith & Vine manager. Form will be in charge of the spirits program—quite a challenge with Brooklyn Social down the block and Clover Club set to open soon nearby.

Matt said the bar will pour many of the wines which are for sale at Smith & Vine. That will be handy; one can sample a vino at Jake Walk and then stroll down the block to buy it.

As for the curious name, it's just the latest clever, historically minded tavern title in town, right in the tradition of Milk & Honey, Little Branch, Pegu Club, and Death & Co. It refers to, according to Gowanus Lounge, "people who were poisoned by bootleg alcohol and left with physical disabilities. Jake was a Jamaican ginger extract with high alcohol content that was used to skirt laws banning alcohol. In 1930, manufacturers decided to add an industrial chemical to dilute Jake that turned out to be highly toxic. Victims were partly paralyzed and the resulting walk was known as "the Jake Walk.""

Yikes! Noting like a bit of gallows humor.