A version of this review previously appeared in Shelf Awareness and is republished here with permission.
In Unvarnished, Eric Alperin shares how his life changed when he walked into Milk & Honey, a classic cocktail bar in New York City run by Sasha Petraske, who's credited with inventing modern cocktail culture. Alperin was an actor; after receiving his MFA but having no plan or money, he got his bartending diploma and became a "double threat." He eventually realized he had "every applicable neurosis" for bar work. People think he's a junkie, but he's really just a dyslexic who requires stimulation and organization, which he finds to the extreme behind the bar. The actor found the stage of a lifetime, a play that never stops.
Alperin fell hard, diving into all aspects of the trade. Alperin and Petraske eventually teamed up to open The Varnish in Los Angeles, hoping to create a port in a storm, to comfort and mend, celebrate and serve. A place locals and travelers alike thought of as home, gifted with the "intangible third rail of love."
Part memoir, part bar story and part captivating instructional, Unvarnished is a love story to the cocktail, its culture and those who foster it, Petraske in particular. Alperin's exquisite descriptions of bars, tool setups and mixing will have cocktail enthusiasts salivating. Newcomers will be eager to learn details they never imagined, such as the section on ice (the "bartender's flame," harvested from blocks in techniques dating back to 1800), that shows it's the little things that support a beautiful symphony.
STREET SENSE: As a novice cocktail nerd and block-carved clear ice maker, any book that discusses cocktail ice carving is ok with me. But the entirety of Alperin's story had me entranced. As a fellow OCD-er, just the descriptions of him setting out his tools gave me chills. So yeah, this was right in my weirdo wheelhouse, but if you are at all interested in cocktails, what it takes to run or open a bar, what makes good service and a good environment, the craft cocktail revolution (not the douchey one), or how one guy makes a success out of the weirdo tools he has, give this one a read. I loved it.
COVER NERD SAYS: So listen. I love a dude in shirtsleeves as much as the next person who is attracted to dudes. And this is a great bar shot. But the bar essential lover in me would have loved a cover concentrating more on the glass, booze, garnish, wood, all that great BAR STUFF. But I can't complain (all prior words to the contrary), this is a great, inviting cover.
Showing posts with label booze. Show all posts
Showing posts with label booze. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 1, 2020
UNVARNISHED :: Eric Alperin
Labels:
2020,
bar,
booze,
cocktail,
Eric Alperin,
memoir,
Nonfiction,
review
Friday, January 25, 2019
THE HOME BAR :: Henry Jeffreys
Contrary to my social media posts, I've never been a big drinker. Which is saying something, seeing as I'm half Australian and half Slovenian bootlegger and come from a long line of professional drinkers. While there aren't many alcohols I drink at present, I'm starting to learn and enjoy more because so many of the things I love surround booze (plus: politics). I am a super nerd for wood, tools, metal, bottles, interesting lighting, and beautiful glassware. I also find cocktails themselves things of artistic beauty. Their many colors (hell, even the variety of colors in bourbon alone), interplay with ice and garnish, all of it. I have always adored everything about drinking but the drinking.
For those reasons, and because I need a project not to go mental(er), I have decided to try three things on the booze front this year: (1) learn more (2) experiment and (3) build/create a home bar. When I got an advance copy of The Home Bar, I knew it was a perfect place to start my efforts. From a full room bar to a bar cart or simple tray, The Home Bar provides tips on usage, stocking (booze and tools), display, seating, sinks, lighting, the works.
It started out all about the photography. The ebook was gorgeous, as I imagine the final hardcover product to be. This a book I would display and flip through right off the coffee table (or bar cart). There are fabulous pictures of bars, cabinetry, lighting, bottles, bar tools, glasses, and drinks. These are balanced with just the right amount of exposition, broken into logical sections to help you work your way through what type of bar you might want/need and how to stock it with the necessary equipment.
The book is written by Henry Jeffreys, grandson of Paul Ricard, inventor of the popular French aperitif, Pernod (or Pernod Ricard, basically an anise-flavored pre-dinner quaff intended to stimulate appetite). As such, Jeffreys certainly has the chops to discuss booze and bars. In fact, he begins the book with an interesting history of bars and how they were impacted by Prohibition and other historical and social times. I was impatient to get to the "good stuff," but I enjoyed it.
My attitudes about drinking and bars differ fairly drastically from the author's, so your mileage may vary. I come from a different kind of booze royalty than Jeffreys and was somewhat put off by his idea that home bars "are essentially about showing off" and "impressing" guests. Back bars should be a "booze wonderland." Which I had no problem with until he followed that idea with "so that your guests gasp." Snooze. In my mind, there's nothing worse than a host who is more interested in making me gasp about the number of bottles on his shelf than pouring me a god damn drink, having great conversation and a good laugh.
To be fair, I must contrast this with the many times Jeffreys talks about bars being "about comfort," the various ranges of bar materials he discusses, how budget items are okay, and even encouraged, and his belief about a bar being set up in the "spirit of convivialite" (the genuine pleasure of sharing moments).
But even in the midst of a welcoming thought (going for a pop art look with a shag rug) he throws in a crap one ("not in bright orange") that immediately made me want to go out and buy an orange-AF shag rug because that would be awesome. Also, "if you're serious about cocktails you should be making your own ice." I am, sir, right in my very own freezer using those cool plastic half-moon trays that come with the vegan mochi I buy at Trader Joe's. You will get the flavor of green tea ice cream in your bourbon and you will LIKE IT. I'm all for deep-diving on cocktail minutiae, but don't tell someone they can't be "serious" about mixing unless they do x, y or z.
Jeffreys made me a bit testy at times, but don't let that dissuade you. This book is full of fantastic stocking and design ideas, and the photos on their own are worth the price of admission.
For those reasons, and because I need a project not to go mental(er), I have decided to try three things on the booze front this year: (1) learn more (2) experiment and (3) build/create a home bar. When I got an advance copy of The Home Bar, I knew it was a perfect place to start my efforts. From a full room bar to a bar cart or simple tray, The Home Bar provides tips on usage, stocking (booze and tools), display, seating, sinks, lighting, the works.
It started out all about the photography. The ebook was gorgeous, as I imagine the final hardcover product to be. This a book I would display and flip through right off the coffee table (or bar cart). There are fabulous pictures of bars, cabinetry, lighting, bottles, bar tools, glasses, and drinks. These are balanced with just the right amount of exposition, broken into logical sections to help you work your way through what type of bar you might want/need and how to stock it with the necessary equipment.
My attitudes about drinking and bars differ fairly drastically from the author's, so your mileage may vary. I come from a different kind of booze royalty than Jeffreys and was somewhat put off by his idea that home bars "are essentially about showing off" and "impressing" guests. Back bars should be a "booze wonderland." Which I had no problem with until he followed that idea with "so that your guests gasp." Snooze. In my mind, there's nothing worse than a host who is more interested in making me gasp about the number of bottles on his shelf than pouring me a god damn drink, having great conversation and a good laugh.
To be fair, I must contrast this with the many times Jeffreys talks about bars being "about comfort," the various ranges of bar materials he discusses, how budget items are okay, and even encouraged, and his belief about a bar being set up in the "spirit of convivialite" (the genuine pleasure of sharing moments).
But even in the midst of a welcoming thought (going for a pop art look with a shag rug) he throws in a crap one ("not in bright orange") that immediately made me want to go out and buy an orange-AF shag rug because that would be awesome. Also, "if you're serious about cocktails you should be making your own ice." I am, sir, right in my very own freezer using those cool plastic half-moon trays that come with the vegan mochi I buy at Trader Joe's. You will get the flavor of green tea ice cream in your bourbon and you will LIKE IT. I'm all for deep-diving on cocktail minutiae, but don't tell someone they can't be "serious" about mixing unless they do x, y or z.
Jeffreys made me a bit testy at times, but don't let that dissuade you. This book is full of fantastic stocking and design ideas, and the photos on their own are worth the price of admission.
CHEERS.
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