WALL-E, Make Me a Sazerac

Sarah Schmeler's blog, which usually tackles art and art-related stuff, has republished an article that appeared in the Wall Street Journal a while back about a new tech phenom called "hackerspaces." These caves of creativity are hotbeds of tinkering, where nerds gather to put together cool stuff, including some things which are absolutely Jetsons-crazy and useless—such as a robot that can make a Sazerac.

A Visit to Sazerac Bar

For me, the main source of excitement at this year's Tales of the Cocktail convention in New Orleans was that I would finally get to see the famed Sazerac Bar in the Roosevelt Hotel. The celebrated lodging place and its more celebrated watering hole had been shuttered since Hurricane Katrina, and, since I had never set foot in New Orleans until 2006, I never laid eyes on what was once the most famous place in the world to order that most wonderful and New Orleanian of drinks, the Sazerac.

Therefore, I was dumbfounded when, asking various folks at the convention if they had seen the Sazerac Bar yet, I was routinely greeting by non-computing expressions and answers like "No. Why?" Few seemed to understand what a fantastic and historical bar has been resurrected.


The historic downtown New Orleans property is now part of the Waldorf=Astoria. It opened in 1893 as the Grunewald. In 1923, it was rebranded The Roosevelt in honor of President Theodore Roosevelt. It kept that name until 1965 when it was bought and rechristened with the infinitely duller name of The Fairmont. Thank God someone came to their senses and brought back the old label. (Grunewald just doesn't have the same majestic ring, does it?)

From the 1930s to the 1960s, the hotel's Blue Room and Sazerac Bar were the places to go in New Orleans to find and converse with the powerful, the elite and the everyman. The bar was nearly as famous for its Ramos Gin Fizzes as it was for its Sazeracs. The former was the favorite of one of the bar's most steady patrons, demagogue Huey P. Long.


The bar is one of the most beautiful Art Deco spaces I have ever seen, from the tile floors to the long, American walnut L-shaped bar, from the illuminated, etched glass panel situated at the center of the mirrored back bar to the Paul Ninas murals that punctuate the walls. The combined effect of the decor and the atmosphere of gay sophistication elevates civilization just that little bit more. Drinking at that bar, you feel like a swell, a mensch, a man a culture, a hail fellow well met, a member of the Family of Man, someone who's doing the best he can and deserves a drink.


Having not seen the bar before the renovation, I had no idea how faithful the revamp had been. But Jeff Berry, who had paid a call on the bar just days before Katrina, assured me: the only thing that was changee was that the television had been removed.



I've never seen so many Sazeracs made as I did during my two visits to the bar. There is never a time when a barman is not making that drink. The house version uses Sazerac Rye and Herbsaint, in addition to the requisite Peychaud's bitters and sugar. I'd prefer a different rye and a brand of absinthe, but to each his own. I did have to caution the bartender not to make the drink too sweet, however. All in all, a good Sazerac, but I've had better.

More care seems to be taken with the Ramos Gin Fizz. I watched my man prepare mine, and he couldn't have been more careful if he had been a jeweler in Antwerp. The result was beautiful. Quite simply the best Ramos Gin Fizz I have ever had.

The drink menu is quite simple. I was told that the bar reached out all the way to New York to put it together, bringing in Julie Reiner (Flatiron Lounge, Clover Club) as a consultant. She wisely focused on the classics, with a couple originals tossed in.

The menu was a damn sight more complicated in the past, as the picture below illustrates. This is just one page of what was a lengthy drink menu.

Sazerac Watch: Part Two

Saturday, July 19, my last full day at "Tales of the Cocktail," I managed to sample two more New Orleans Sazeracs.

The first was at Jean Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop, a classic bar on Bourbon Street. I admit I was a bit foolhardy to order the drink. The tavern is largely a laid-back beer place. But I couldn't help myself. The bartender used a bit too much Pernod (no one seems to have gotten into the Absinthe groove yet in NOLA), but he showed respect for the drink by putting it into a rocks glass, as opposed to a plastic cup, the vessel of most other drinks he was serving.

The second was at Mr. B.'s Bistro, a Brennan family joint right across from the Hotel Monteleone. It had been recommended for its food and the traditional New Orleans chow didn't disappoint. I liked my bartender. He was respectful, attentive and serious, without being pompous. I asked that my Sazerac not be too sweet and he obliged by taking great care with the drink. He used Old Overholt, Herbsaint and Peychaud's bitters, eschewing the Angostura that some favor. It was a princely drink, second only to the Sazeracs I had had at the International House Hotel the night before.

Sazerac Watch: Sweet, Dry and Just Right

As has been my tradition in New Orleans, I've tested a few restaurants on their Sazerac performance this year, and the results have been pretty damn sorry. Abysmal, in fact.

First off, apologies on these lousy pictures. Taking pictures of cocktails in dark restaurants ain't easy. My first failure was served to me at Jacques-Imo's Cafe, a very loose-limbed, funky and excellent restaurant in the Uptown neighborhood, right next to the famous Maple Tree Bar. They must have sloshed the simple syrup in out of a bucket, it was so tooth-achingly sweet. And I can't be sure, but I think they shook my Sazerac. It foamed like a rabid dog. (See above.)

The second disaster was at Coop's Place, a dive-like place on Decatur that serves excellent downhome New Orleans cuisine. To avoid my Jacques-Imo experience, I cautioned the bartender not to make the drink too sweet. "Why would it be sweet?" he replied. "There's no sugar in it."

Say what? I reminded him of the little matter of the sugar cube that's part of the recipe. He said they didn't make them that way; just put in a drop of syrup. OK. Worth a shot. But his Sazerac (below) was too dry and arid. It was missing a major component, and was quite difficult to drink.



But all was made well later that night at a party, when I had not one but two excellent Sazeracs, beautifully balanced and with a surface as still as an icy pond. Of course, I had to rely on a TOTC cocktail pro to do the trick.

The Sazerac Has Landed

So, I'm here. New Orleans. Tales of the Cocktail. Got up at 4 AM and flew through Charlotte. Bleary eyed, yes, but one ends up bleary eyed at this event anyway, right?

The first big event of the week was the official christening of the Sazerac as the first ever Official Cocktail of New Orleans. That's right—New Orleans has an official cocktail. Let other places have their birds and flowers—NOLA wants a cocktail. As some of you may know, TOTC's fearless founder Ann R. Tuennerman has been pushing this measure through the state capital. That's right! It was actually a bill passed by lawmakers. The guy was presented the bill was there: Senator Edwin Murray, dignified in seersucker.

The New York Times' Eric Asimov wrote a funny piece about the matter today. He confessed he doesn't like Sazeracs (What?!), and thought the Ramos Gin Fizz was a better choice for an official cocktail. But he's insane. Sazeracs are heaven. And Ramos Gin Fizzes, as good as they are, are much too difficult to make to be an official cocktail.

History was represented, of course. The drink is 150-years-old, after all. There were some cool Sazerac artifacts on a table, including this ancient bottle of Peychaud's Bitters.



Sazeracs, mixed up by a hardworking Phil Ward (Death & Co.), were passed around liberally. So were Punch & Judys. This last is the invention of Charlotte Voisey and is the 2008 Cocktail TOTC Competition winner. It's got a heaping helpful of ingredients (10!), including Cognac, rum, gin and three different juices. Almost on the Tiki side of things. Good, too. Dense.



Of course, half the room wasn't paying much attention to what was being said on the dais. To happy to see each other. A administrative tip: next year, don't hand out the drinks until the speeches have concluded! The crowd will stay focused that way.

The Riverside room the event was held in got really crowded really soon. I'm not claustrophobic, but I felt like I could be if I stayed, so I dashed out after the announcements. And left without trying a Sazerac cupcake! How'd that happen?!

Broooklyn Social Sazerac

At Off the Presses, the Sazerac Watch never sleeps. Last sighting of this tasty cocktail: Brooklyn Social, a popular retro haunt on Court Street in Carroll Gardens. The bartender—a whimsical, floppy-haired scamp who never answered a question straight (he said he was "not there" at one point)—didn't know how to make it off the back; he had to consult a book. But he was game. Plus, he had all the ingredients. And, finally, the drink was entirely satisfactory.

The bar, by the way, was carved out of a former Sicilian social club and has kept much of that old world appeal. It's dark and clandestine, with a speakeasy feel to it. There are old pictures on the wall and a old ice box behind the bar. The drink menu appears to indicate that the bartenders are schooled in other classic drinks. (That's a ginger Old Fashioned in the photo above.)

So, so far that's a place to get a good Sazerac in Carroll Gardens and Red Hook now, as well as the Lower East Side, Tribeca, Greenwich Village and Soho in Manhattan. At this rate, I may have to take this drink off the NYC endangered list soon.

The City's Best Sazerac?

Twice during the Tales of the Cocktail, I've heard a local authority say he had had the best Sazerac of his life at Bayona, Susan Spicer's praised French Quarter restaurant.

One was Chuck Taggart, New Orleans cocktail blogger, who called his first Sazerac at Bayona a life-changing drink which set him on his current passion for good drinks. The other was Brobson Lutz, a doctor who has ever reason to be loyal to Galatoire's, having dined and drank there countless times, but who said his recent Sazerac at Bayona was the best he had ever had.

I have known many Sazeracs over the past few days—at Commander's Palace, The Carousel Bar, etc.—but was I missing the best? So, the last thing I did in New Orleans before catching a plane home was to have lunch at Bayona. They seated me right away, and my Sazerac came soon after. It was served in a smaller glass than usual, and the color was very vibrant (extra Peychaud's?). I drank. It was exceptional, very smooth, a bit on the sweet side. I can't say if it's the best I've ever had, but it certainly stood out and would be up there in the top three or so. I'm glad I had it.



My lunch consisted of a kind of Ceviche, a lump crab meat salad, and a pork and shrimp wonton soup. Each dish was delicate and flavorful and nearly perfect. Bayona deserves its rep. The table one over from me was a big group celebrating the 60th wedding anniversary of an elderly couple. Everyone seemed quite jazzed about the occasion—except the couple. Just another day in the marriage. There was a priest at the table; he had a chardonnay.

And, as has been the case all week, I can not go anywhere in New Orleans without running into a Tales of the Cocktail presenter. As I entered Bayona, Allen Katz exited. The night before I saw Gary Regan at Commander's Palace, sitting at the chef's table. Dale DeGroff, Charlotte Voisey, Junior Menior and Julie Reiner (of Pegu Club) were at Acme's Oyster Bar when I had lunch at the bar. Another guy, whose name I can't remember, but with whom I shared a cab to the airport, had actually been at Tipitina's when I was there Friday night. Small city.

This may be my last Tales of the Cocktail post. But don't hold me to that.