Whether you’re a booze blogger, a bartender or bar owner, or a PR associate for a firm representing a liquor brand or two, you should think about attending  “Keeping Ahead in an Online World,” a Tales session designed to help decipher the ways online tools such as blogs, Twitter and Facebook can be used to promote your profile as a bartender, your talents as a blogger, and the merits of individual brands and bars. Paul Clarke is moderating, and he’ll be joined by Lindsey Johnson from Lush Life Productions. Lindsey and her team have been among the most visible presences (both online and in real life) in the drinks world over the past couple of years, and there’s nobody more talented at creating and building an online audience for bars and brands.

For more information on Paul’s panel, click over to his site.

And let me tell you something else about Paul Clarke: He gives a shit about vermouth and aperitif wines. He gives so much of a shit, in fact, he’s heading up a panel at Tales of the Cocktail this year about the very subject. And he’ll tell you all about it, but only if you give enough of a shit to click on over to Cocktail Chronicles, to read his preview post. And for what it’s worth, I give a shit, too. I’ll be at Paul’s panel, that Saturday afternoon, probably heckling him from the back of the room. C’mon, give a shit. Join us there. You know you want to.

As Tales gets underway, we want to take the opportunity to once again express thanks to Martin Miller’s Gin, sponsors of Tales Blog for 2009. Martin Miller’s has made it possible for several dozen of the most widely read drink bloggers from the U.S., Canada and Europe to convene in New Orleans for this memorable event.

Blogging Tales of the Cocktail: 2009 is proud to be supported by Martin Miller’s Gin. Please visit their website to learn more about this premium English gin, and find an opportunity to sample their unique balance of botanicals mixed with pure Icelandic water.

Tales of the Cocktail is a much different experience when you find yourself on the other side of the presenters table. Instead of just freewheeling it around like you’ve done on other days, you actually find yourself in work mode, busy and slightly stressed, and stone-cold sober (or close to it) at an event dedicated to booze.

Like last year, I worked two panels at Tales this year: the first, on Friday, was “Cocktails With a Kick: Absinthe Returns to America,” and the second, on Saturday, was “Making Your Own Cocktail Ingredients.” And despite an assortment of unexpected challenges ranging from a chronic and near-catastrophic shortage of bartenders and drink-mixing equipment to the sudden loss, and then regain, of a panelist, from where I sat — up in front of packed, 150+ crowds for both sessions — they both came off pretty well.

It’s safe to say I prepared more for the absinthe session — no wonder, I had a 30+ slide presentation on vintage absinthe cocktails, along with details from old humor books and morality missives that I thought worked well with the idea of historic absinthe cocktails. For this session I had the great fortune to be paired with co-moderator Gwydion Stone, of the Wormwood Society and Marteau Absinthe, and to be joined by Jim Meehan, general manager at PDT in New York. Gwydion set the stage by talking about absinthe as a spirit, and its distinctiveness as a category, and Jim followed my presentation with a look forward, at how we can move forward with new absinthes coming on the market.

The session hit some problems about an hour before we went on; due to a shortage in personnel, it turned out we had nobody to mix drinks for the crowd, so we began cutting drinks from the list, and at one point Jim told me I had the choice of mixing drinks or talking. Fortunately, though, he managed to wrangle two fantastic bartenders from Los Angeles to man the kitchen, and he spent the better part of the session getting drinks out to attendees. For my part, I lost my place a couple of times during my presentation, plus I realized at one point that I was speeding through and would be done in much less than my allotted time, so I may have wandered a bit while trying to fill up space, but I managed to not break down and start babbling like an idiot before I finished my Powerpoint.

The “Making Your Own Ingredients” session faced many of the same challenges, but fortunately this time I knew they were coming: initially we had no staff to mix drinks, so I recruited volunteers before discovering that we didn’t even have basic things like cocktail shakers to use. Fortunately I had a lot of support, so the panel participants batched their own drinks, Daniel from PDT stepped in to mix, and we recruited Keith Waldbauer and Zane Harris to help him get drinks out to the crowd; up front, Heather (Tiki Mama) volunteered her services to pour Tequila por mi Amante, falernum, orgeat and bourbon for everyone.

Complicating matters further, one of the panelists, John Deragon from PDT, was participating in the Cocktail Apprentice program, and about an hour before the session he realized he wouldn’t be able to participate. He arranged for Daniel to fill in in the kitchen plus talk about the bar’s fat-washed bacon bourbon, and recruited Robert Hess to step in and talk about Abbot’s bitters. Crisis just barely averted and with the panel running on rims, we had to just dive in and see what happened — fortunately, the nervous energy translated into a really lively session, and panelists Erik Ellestad and Jamie Boudreau had some fantastic drinks and some good pacing to keep things moving along. Just an hour before the session I was convinced it was headed for disaster, but somehow — SOMEHOW — it came together great. And to top it all, by the last 15 minutes John Deragon was able to tear himself away from the pastry kitchen, and before the bloodhounds could find his trail, he was able to talk about his fantastic recreation of Abbot’s bitters that we served earlier in a 50-50 Manhattan.

That’s my perspective, anyway — I dunno, maybe from where you were sitting we looked like a bunch of idiots. Anyway, if you were at one or both of the sessions, thanks for coming and I hope you enjoyed the drinks; and if you weren’t there, then … I guess we’ll see you next year.

Yesterday was the official Day One of Tales of the Cocktail, and the headline statement, uttered at a room party around 3 am by a very tipsy Bay Area bartender, capped the day properly. As did the invite to the room party: “I’ve got Antica, Sazerac, some homemade tonic syrup and that apricot liqueur from Haus Alpenz–you coming?”

I started the morning slow — as was fit, considering the way I’d ended Tuesday evening — but by noon, with a panel on Researching Drink Recipes and Collecting Cocktail Books, I was ready to go. New York bartender and consultant Jonathan Pogash led the panel through a discussion of how they utilize certain books and resources (Jerry Thomas is an obvious long-standing influence) to research new drinks for bar menus; even more up my alley was Brian Rea’s talk about collecting cocktail books. Rea, an 81-year-old bartender who at one point had amassed what’s likely the largest collection of drink books in the world, gave out his tips for the books to have and the antiquarian dealers to use for other collectors of these rare volumes. Rea also had the runner-up for quote of the day: “David Embury was a lousy tipper. I know, I used to serve him.”

After catching Lauren Clark’s great media panel, we headed over to the blog reception (“Welcome, Bolgers!”). After knowing many of these fine people online for a couple of years, it was magnificent to have them all come together at one time. We had some excellent Cabana Shrubbs prepared by Maxwell Britten, made with our sponsor, Cabana Cachaca, and while shifting event times and room changes made the start of the event a little slow, soon we had a really nice party going on.

Evening was for the Beefeater party, a wall-to-wall crush of people drinking Jasmines and Gin-Gin Mules; then, after a dinner of Shrimp & Grits backed by an Ojen Frappe at Luke, a group of us hit Bourbon Street, shying away from the crushing crowd at Arnaud’s in favor of absinthe frappes and sazeracs at the Old Absinthe House. A few go-rounds on the Carousel Bar set the stage for the room party of bartenders from both coasts, with Manhattans served over the drunken body of Camper English. But Camper’s a pro, and he concealed his inebriation much better than the other Bay Area bartender we encountered in the elevator.

Next: Tales of the Cocktail, the hangover edition!

Two years ago, I attended Tales of the Cocktail and was delighted to sit in on a session that, due to its subject matter–absinthe–carried a touch of danger and intrigue.

Last year, I attended Tales of the Cocktail and, in addition to a reprise of the absinthe session, I was served a drink or two made with Lucid, at that time the only legal absinthe on the market. I also attended an absinthe dinner at a restaurant where we were seated in a private dining room, shielded from the view of other diners partially because we had our own setup of fountain and absinthes, all of which were still on the prohibited list.

This year, absinthe is everywhere; the flood I’d anticipated last fall while writing a feature on the spirit for Imbibe (it’s here, as a PDF) has come even larger than I’d expected. In the months to come we’ll see some of the most spectacular absinthes I’ve ever tried come onto the US market, along with, it should be said, massive amounts of crap.

To help you wade through this steaming pile to find the pony on the other side, on Friday, July 18, I’ll be co-moderating a session at this year’s Tales of the Cocktail titled “Cocktails with a Kick: Absinthe Returns to America.” Joining me as co-moderator will be my good friend Gwydion Stone, founder of the Wormwood Society and producer of Marteau; and the uber-talented Jim Meehan, bar manager at PDT in New York.

With Gwydion picking up the story of absinthe and Jim talking about the ways he and his colleagues are mixing it today, I’ve got a big job ahead of me. Fortunately, I love absinthe, and I love absinthe cocktails, so it’s been a pleasure to dig into the vintage bar books in my collection to find the most interesting and most unusual cocktails in creation. It’s also been fascinating for me to dig through old books and news archives to find references to absinthe, both the ways bartenders were serving it, and the ways it was portrayed in stories and tracts.

I won’t go into detail here — that’s what the presentation is for, after all — but if you’re in New Orleans for Tales, be sure to join us at the Hotel Monteleone on Friday, July 18, at 12:30pm for “Cocktails With a Kick”. Plus, we’re serving lots of good booze, so that should be extra encouragement; you can buy tickets here, and I hope to see you there.

Tales of the Cocktail is now just a few weeks away, and Jesus, am I busy. I want to point out a few things that I’ll be doing in New Orleans — such as posting updates with more than 30 of my fellow booze-bloggers at Blogging Tales of the Cocktail — and I’ll start with an event I’m moderating: Making Your Own Cocktail Ingredients.

After I suggested this topic to Tales organizers, I started looking around and realizing that the sheer breadth of the types of home- and bar-made ingredients currently in use — along with those being created by bar professionals and home enthusiasts every week — would dwarf anything this panel would be able to cover in 90 minutes. Rather than aim for comprehensive coverage of the types of bespoke ingredients that are now in use, this session is designed to get the creative juices flowing for amateurs and professionals alike.

Since I can be a complete doofus in person and especially in a public presentation, I invited three remarkably talented panelists to help flesh out the session. Erik Ellestad and I will cover the home enthusiast’s end, with examples ranging from simple but tasty infusions — that’s a boatload of Tequila por Mi Amante in the photo, soaking away in preparation to being poured for whoever shows up — to compound syrups (falernum! orgeat!) and house-made liqueurs such as Swedish punch; we’ll then kick it over to the pros: John Deragon from PDT in New York and Jamie Boudreau from … uh, his apartment in Seattle, I guess … who will cover house bitters, fat-washing and more complex ingredients such as Jamie’s vintage Amer Picon replica.

We’ll be mixing a few cocktails and pouring a few samples, and unless you’ve given a few of our recipes a spin, you’re likely to encounter a whole bunch of flavors you’ve never come across before. Our sponsors for the event are Death’s Door Gin and Partida Tequila — special thanks to Jacques B. for helping me score a shipment of reposado with which to lay some TpMA on the crowd — and, assuming I ever finish my presentation, it should be a great event. If you’re in town, be sure to grab a ticket and come see what we’re pouring.

Making Your Own Cocktail Ingredients takes place Saturday, July 19 from 4:30 to 6:00 pm at the Hotel Monteleone; tickets may be purchased here.

In recent years, vintage bartender’s guides and mixology manuals have become hot items among cocktail fiends and on online auction sites. Little is typically known about many of the authors of these books; among the exceptions are Jerry Thomas, and now, Charles H. Baker.

Starting in the 1930s, Baker authored two inimitable bibles of exotic drinking: The Gentleman’s Companion, and The South American Gentleman’s Companion. Despite the value these volumes have for collectors of vintage drink books, relatively little was known about Baker until recently. This is all changing, thanks to the research of St. John Frizell.

Frizell is a bartender at Pegu Club in Manhattan and the Good Fork in Brooklyn; he has also written about food, drinks and travel for Bon Appétit, Fine Cooking, Islands, Time Out New York, and other publications (a complete list is available at StJohnFrizell.com). Frizell has explored Baker’s biography and writings for years, and at this year’s Tales of the Cocktail, he’s moderating a panel titled “The Gentleman’s Companion: The Life and Times of Charles H. Baker, Jr.”

I recently asked St. John to discuss this panel via e-mail; here’s how the conversation unfolded:

There are a number of people who have written memorable books on cocktails over the years; how does Charles Baker stand out from many of his contemporaries?

Charles H. Baker Jr. is the cocktail world’s great adventurer. His books aren’t just about how to mix drinks–they’re scrapbooks from a life spent traveling around the world, collecting recipes from the world’s most far-flung places. Whether in Athens, Caracas, or Zamboanga, Baker knew where to go and what to order when you got there. Most importantly, his love of food, drink, and good companionship knew no limits, and his joie de vivre comes right off the page—to me, at least.

How do you think Baker’s unique approach to describing a drink–complete with elaborate backstories to the cocktails rendered in a florid Victorian style—has contributed to his lasting appeal?

This is the other thing that sets Baker apart–his prose. Calling his writing style florid is a major understatement. I’ve never read anything quite like it. It’s ridiculously baroque. Last year I read some passages from his books at a Tales event–I practiced reading all morning, and still had a hard time getting out sentences like this one, where Baker describes the female patrons of a restaurant in Montevideo:

a demitasse-sized bevy of slick sultry eager and amiable black-haired young ladies…who sit about with—as one friend expressed it—practically plunging waist-lines whose outer Paris-sewn fabric manifestly covers nothing approaching outing-flannel weight beneath; and whose streamlined chassis are patently custom-built, not run off any routine assembly line.

You won’t find anything like that in David Embury.

Baker’s also got a great sense of humor, as well as a real sense of adventure and good storytelling. He meets the world with a sense of innocence and wonder, and a more than a little derring-do, like other notable travel/adventure writers working between the wars—Richard Halliburton, Frank “Bring ‘Em Back Alive” Buck, and Robert Ripley come to mind (all of whom Baker drank with, by the way–believe it or not!).

Some of the most exotic and unusual recipes in mixology can be found in Baker’s books; what are a couple of your favorites?

I bartend at the Pegu Club in New York, and this winter I got Audrey to add Baker’s fantastic Remember the Maine (from Havana, 1933) to the menu–it’s essentially a variation on the Manhattan, with Cherry Heering and a little Pernod. And Ted Haigh convinced me to try Baker’s Tequila por Mi Amante (Mexico City, 1937) …that’s made by adding a quart of halved strawberries to a pint of tequila, and letting it stand for at least 21 days. Ted was right–it’s amazingly good, and with strawberry season upon us, it might be time to give that one another shot [editor's note: Tequila por Mi Amante will also be served at the Making Your Own Cocktail Ingredients session on Saturday, July 19]. I’ve recently had good results with the Queen Bee Cocktail (from the “famous club Circulo de Armas, in Buenos Aires“), from the South American Gentleman’s Companion:

• 2 oz best apple brandy possible
• 2 tsp lemon juice
• 2 tsp strained honey
• 2 tsp white Orange Curaçao
• Curl orange peel

Stir well in shaker without ice, to dissolve honey; then shake hard with big ice and strain into chilled stemmed cocktail glass. Twist curl of orange peel over the finished drink, but do not drop-in glass…Vary honey and sour to suit your taste.

Baker’s recipes can also be a bit odd; what ones have you tried fall into that “I guess you had to be there” category?

This is so true, and even Baker admits it at times. In the recipe for the Eagle’s Dream, for instance, Baker shakes gin, lemon, sugar, and an egg white together, pours it in a glass, and then: “Carefully float-on 1/2 pony Garnier’s Crème de Rose Liqueur, and finally crown with enough Burgundy or Claret to lend a rich tint to the completed Dream. Go ahead–go ahead! Taste it. If you don’t like what eagles dream about, why, toss it down the drain. Nobody will raise an eyebrow.”

The first drink I mixed from Baker’s books is Firpo’s Balloon Cocktail from Gentleman’s Companion, one of the most disgusting things I can remember tasting. I don’t know why I ever mixed another recipe from that book, but I’m glad I did. With Baker, you should have no qualms about adjusting recipes—ingredients have changed, and so have tastes. It seems like a quarter of Baker’s recipes call for a big slug of 120-proof Pernod; try serving that at a bar today, and see how many you sell. Besides, Baker was a poet, not a chemist—I imagine many of the notes he took while traveling were pretty hard to read the morning after.

Can you give us an example of what attendees to your session may discover about Baker that doesn’t come through in his books?

Like many Baker fans, I couldn’t stop asking myself as I read the Gentleman’s Companion: “Who WAS this guy? How did he get to do all this traveling?” I started researching, and my curiosity grew into an obsession. I’ve spent the past few years researching Baker, digging through his books, magazine articles, and letters, and talking with his friends and family. I wrote a long biographical article on Baker for a great magazine called the Oxford American, to be published this June, and my presentation will cover a lot of the same ground. I’ll show attendees who Baker really was–from his youth in rural Florida to his life as a struggling writer in Manhattan to his glory days aboard the SS Resolute. If his recipes are a collection of colorful dots, I’ll try to connect them, with photos, anecdotes, and lots and lots of cocktails. I’m also working with Martin Doudoroff to put together a little booklet that will have some great info for hardcore Baker fans–an index of his books (compiled by Martin), plus a timeline and bibliography.

The Gentleman’s Companion: The Life and Times of Charles H. Baker, Jr. takes place Sunday, July 20 at 11:00 am at the Hotel Monteleone (schedule subject to change). Tickets may be purchased here.