word came down that scott beattie was taking a shift at clock bar, and so i made my way there. turned out he wasn’t mixing any of his drinks…he was mostly just working from the standard menu. this was only slightly disappointing, as i’ve been wanting to hit clock bar anyway.
i was as usual the worst-dressed and arguably worst-looking person in the place.
i sat down next to, i initially thought, a high-powered business lady on a speed date or some shit. she and some dude exchanged well-it-was-nice-to-meet-yous soon after i sat down, and dude took off. but she stayed, and adeptly chain-schmoozed for the next hour, with guests and barmen both. eventually i deduced that she was brooke arthur.
that’s one cool thing about being a starfucker within an uncommon hobby; the stars are totally accessible. it’s awesome and crazy that for $10 or so, one can experience the craft of, and chat with, bartenders like jackie patterson, who is by any definition one of the best in the country if not the world.
drinks:
beachfire margarita – marg with some mezcal, for a smoky touch
paddington – pisco, lemon, honey, celery bitters, aji amarillo tincture
english breakfast – gin, grand marnier, orange marmalade, lemon, egg white, spray of qi black tea liqueur
all really good, but for variety’s sake, i should have had only one smoky drink. i am a sucker for such things.
…
i wonder if i might be addicted to introspection.
haw!
seriously, in the past decade or so i’ll sometimes get lost inside my head at really inopportune times…during conversations (even enjoyable ones), while reading or studying, working, watching a movie or tv show i’ve been looking forward to. and i want to stop. but i seem unable to.
my clock bar visit was mostly spent inward instead of any of the following more interesting/stimulating activities: eavesdropping, checking out bar inventory, observing technique, chatting, leering. there’s a reason drinks are more expensive at a bar than in one’s house, the reason is that bars are more interesting than your house. or your head. but i cant stop.
where’s the meeting?
…
commis tomorrow. i so rarely get this fukkin-stoked about high-end food these days. but this guy sounds like the real deal. and he worked at manresa, which i love.
Post a Comment