Paleo Retiree writes:
Our Cocktail Du Jour series is mainly intended as a way to celebrate the pleasures of leisure, class, elegance, funkiness and getting a little high, as well as an ongoing tip of the hat to the cocktail renaissance we Americans are fortunate enough to be experiencing. (It’s not like you get to choose which artistic/cultural golden eras you live through — nothing you can do about when and where you were born. So why not take note of, explore and enjoy the ones that do come your way?) Man oh man, are there ever a lot of good bartenders out there, from solid traditionalists to flashy innovators and inventors.
Sad to say, though, that not all the news from the “craft cocktail” world is good. The other night, the Question Lady and I were out and about in Tucson and settled on a stylish-seeming, upscale place for dinner. I proceeded to be served the two worst “signature cocktails” I’ve ever had.
The first abomination — sadly, I was too stunned by its clueless awfulness to remember to take a snapshot of it — was the place’s variant on a Sazerac. The first bad idea was infusing the rye with apple and cinnamon — two flavors which are not meant to play nice with Pernod. The second bad idea was to hang an orange wedge on the edge of the glass. It turns out that there are good reasons why you’re never served a glass of orange/apple/licorice juice. The welcome harshness of the rye wasn’t nearly sufficient to mask the mixture’s really epic badness.
Hoping that a return to basics would redeem the drinks dimension of the evening, I ordered an Old Fashioned. What I was served was the place’s variant. By now I was on the alert and morbidly curious. Here’s a shot of the thing:
The color in the shot is accurate — the drink was more pink-red than amber. It had struck the place’s barmaster as a good idea to, essentially, fill the glass with as much cherry liquid as booze. Drinking it reminded me of nothing so much as going through one of those cans of Hawaiian Punch that many Boomers will remember from childhood. Hard for me to imagine that the words “Old Fashioned” would occur to anyone making their way through this cocktail.
But, given that the food was as fancy-yet-clueless as the drinks, maybe these concoctions please the place’s clientele. Despite the place’s chic appearance and chic-seeming menu, the crowd was far more caught up in the U of A basketball game on the TVs than in the food. So maybe this is the sort of thing people with no tastebuds but reasonably full wallets and a desire to feel up to date really enjoy. Hard to know — and I certainly won’t be asking the place’s bartender for insights.
Blowhard, Esq.
Callowman
Sherbrooke
Eddie Pensier
Enzo Nakamura
Epaminondas
Fabrizio del Wrongo
Fenster
Brundle Guy
Glynn Marshes
Paleo Retiree
Atypical Neurotic
Question Lady
Sax von Stroheim
Sir Barken Hyena
The Mistaken
Uncouth Reflections 
Nicely formed ice cube on that one
LikeLike
Seeing a lot of bulbous, smooth, large ice cubes in drinks these days, one cube per glass. Down your way too? I kinda like them.
LikeLike
Actually I’ve only seen them in the media but for something like an Old Fashioned; perfect. (excepting that abomination you were served)
If you ever travel through Durham (Raleigh, Chapel Hill) you’ll let us know and we’ll get together. But if for some reason we’re out of town, you must hit Alley 26 in Durham for cocktails. Our favorite place for sure.
LikeLike
There’s a genre of restaurants like this, been to them in a number of cities. Faux upscale or faux trendy is how my clan thinks of ’em. They often appeal to sports crowds (too prominent flat screen TVs is a warning sign), twenty somethings still enamored of fraternity punch, lush women and their gay friends, young singles looking for an “impressive” date without being in an uncomfortably refined — read, grown-up — environment. Yelp promotions, groupons, and accommodating (including, substantial discounts for) large parties — read, bachelor parties, huge girls nights out — are the bread and butter of these sorts of places, at least from what I can tell. In my experience, the oldies who go are, hapless one-timers (seem happy, but somewhat annoyed with the place), lush/quasi-dysfunctional seeming marriages (husband watching sports, wife quaffing away — little contact with one another), and some nice modest folks just happy to be out (not too demanding) and charmed by the novelty of the place. That’s my experience, reads, surmises.
LikeLike
Perfect, indeed genius, description of the place we were at. So this is a common thing? I need to start being more on the ball about them.
LikeLike
I saw a girl with nail polish the exact color of that “Old Fashioned”.
LikeLike
The drink had a little nail polish edge to it, now that I think about it …
LikeLike
I had my first Old Fashioned in Chicago a few weeks back.
It was my Don Draper moment, minus the suit, looks and wealth.
LikeLike