Negroni Week at Dino’s Grotto!

Hey guys guess what? It’s International Negroni Week! YAY FOR NEGRONIS THEY ARE DELICIOUS.

A negroni is a classic aperitif cocktail – equal parts gin, sweet vermouth, and Campari.

33 different restaurants in the DC area are participating this year, which means they’re doing negroni specials and donating money to charity.

mmm, negronis

At Dino’s Grotto, we’re doing seven different negronis (or negroni variations, like the negroni-meets-Manhattan “Ric Flair”) for $7 each. $1 from each one ordered goes to Miriam’s Kitchen, who helps the homeless here in DC.

So swing by this week and grab a negroni or seven! I’ll be there tonight as the week kicks off, and back on Wednesday and the final day of Sunday. Otherwise, Ric will be here, which means no matter what day you come by, you’ll be amazed by the sexiness. Also, the drinks. And the food. I can’t stop eating the food.

Come by and say hi!

What do we have here?

So, remember in my last post when I talked about bartending for the first time and how I wanted to do it again?

I spent all spring basically saying that, but not really doing anything?about it. I was lazy, admittedly, and it felt weird to look for a job like that when I had a day job. Besides, who’d want to take the chance on a guy with no service industry experience?

Also, I was going out less and less. I was trying to watch my spending, for one, and also just enjoying being at home.

I also kept saying I needed a new day job. “I’m going to work on my resume,” I’d say, “and look for a new job.” Only I didn’t. Partly out of fear I’d be fired if my job found out (not likely, but not completely unfounded) but mostly out of (again) laziness. I didn’t like my job, but I didn’t realize how MUCH I didn’t like it, and I was in a rut.

Then, two weeks ago yesterday I got called into my boss’ office and laid off. One week severance for every year I’d worked there, so 10 weeks, fortunately. Also, we were 2 weeks behind on pay, so I still had a full paycheck and half of another coming.

Just to warn you, I don’t always smile like this.

After I got all my stuff from my cube piled into my car (where it still sits, to be honest), I got on my phone and posted a short status to Twitter and Facebook. “Shit-canned.”

That was a bit of a mistake, since it meant my whole drive home, trying to use my traffic app (I love Waze), I kept getting text notifications.

Still, I felt loved. And better yet: happy. I’d always imagined being laid off would be the worst thing in the world to happen to me, but instead it’s been one of the best.

One of the Facebook messages I got was from Tom Brown, who had recruited me to bartend at the Passenger NYE. He told me to come see him.

The next day I wandered over to Slipstream in Logan Circle. Tom was there and we chatted. He thought I might be a fit there but didn’t have the hours to offer me, so he told me to go meet his friend Ric at Dino’s Grotto. He needed a new bartender there. I’d never been there, but I’d heard good things about it, and later that night I made my way there. We chatted a bit, and Ric told me to come back Sunday morning at 11 AM for a brunch shift.

Erp.

Here comes Sunday. I show up in dress pants, button down shirt, dress shoes. Overdressed, obviously. And also poor choice of shoes, I was sliding everywhere. I didn’t bring a notebook or pen, but Ric had one for me. I didn’t bring a wine key or lighter. I was unprepared.

Unlike most of Ric’s new bartenders, who have service experience but not cocktail & liquor knowledge, I was the opposite. So we started off slowly. He showed me how things should be, showed me when I made mistakes, and basically just let me practice.

Tuesday I was back, and I did better. Still not what you’d call?good, probably, but better. By the end, he said to come back Thursday for a final training day. I came in, working with a different bartender, and took the lead on most of the things while she made sure I didn’t completely screw up.

Friday night I worked with Ric. He liked what he saw, I was doing much better.

Sunday I worked my first solo bar shift for brunch and dinner. In the morning I was scared I was going to screw something up; there’s so much to prepare, especially with things like mimosas and bloody marys which are only ordered at brunch. I made some mistakes, got made fun of for not having the right shoes (which were on order), but I got through the day and 13 hours of work.

Then Wednesday night I got called in, worked what’ll be one of my shifts from here on out (Sunday, Monday, Wednesday). I had my shoes, I knew better what to do, I felt more confident – and I think it definitely showed in my service. The server working upstairs in the dining room said I made more money then the previous bartender would have as she wouldn’t have worked the room as well (and that I probably stole at least one of his tables by doing that!).

So I’m learning. It’s fun. It’s creative, it’s physical, it’s demanding, and I like it a lot. I bought a nice new wine key and I’m about to buy a back-up. If you’re around DC, come by Shaw (9th St NW between T & U) and visit Dino’s Grotto. We have great food and great drinks. And you might be able to tell me what mistake I’m making this time.

(And maybe, sometime, we’ll be able to do some Scofflaw’s Den type related activities there!)

– SeanMike

NYE menu

5:30 PM New Year’s Eve. I’m standing in the courtyard at 800 K St NW, sipping a venti dark roast from Starbucks and nibbling on some pumpkin bread. I’d tried to find a seat at the Starbucks at 7th St across from the Chinatown gate, but it was too crowded. When I got into this little area of solitude, I relaxed, then realized there was another Starbucks right here. Sigh.

Why the solitude? Because The Passenger opened at 6, I was supposed to be there by 7 to help set up, and at 9 PM the doors would open at the old Hogo location for what I was there to do – bartend at Dan Searing’s pop-up Punch Club over there.

Let’s be honest about all this: I have never bartended before. Since starting this here site with Marshall, I’ve always proclaimed my side of the bar was the one where I was drinking, not serving. Sure, I’d done some parties, and made one (1!) drink behind the bar at Room 11 for some bartenders at a Compass Box event (and boy howdy did that terrify me, too) but this was all new to me.

Punch Club menu

Anyways, I knew I’d have lots of work to do, so away I went. I got there, I grabbed ingredients, I filled the wells with ice, I helped pour some stuff. I took a few minutes to visit some friends and have a drink or two over at an increasingly-insane Passenger, then it was back to work.

Occasionally people wandered back. “9 PM!” we’d tell them. We stacked champagne in the fridges. Alexis dusted the whole place and swept. We unloaded Dan’s car and put punch menus into laminate sheets.

Tom came by to ask how much longer. “Ten minutes!” “Make it five!” Wow. People actually talk like that! 200 people in line, I’m told. All punches are $9. Glass of champagne is $9. Can of Schlitz is $4, but those run out so quickly as to be basically a null factor.

Dan is mixing punch. Lukas is handling the credit card machine and money. The music is blasting. The initial thought is I start pouring, Alexis takes orders from the tables. The doors open and in pour the thirsty hordes.

Post-party, the DJ stand

WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING.

We’re immediately killed. I just start taking orders as fast as I can and trying to pour them. I mistake one woman for a friend of mine and say before I realize that a) she isn’t her and b) I don’t have time to embarrassed. Alexis takes some orders, realizes I’m swamped, and jumps in behind the bar to start pouring (THANK GOD).

My first complaint comes almost right away – “why aren’t our punches at the same level? Fill this one up more.” NO. Ain’t nobody got time or the desire to do that. They’re as close as even as you’re ever going to get.

The other complaint is pretty typical for those first three hours: “Can you take my order? I’ve been waiting soooo long!” I try my best to keep it fair and rotate through but it’s never going to be perfect, especially when it’s my first time doing this.

(And I will be completely honest: people I know got quicker service. I’d say sorry but I’m not, really.)

Hogo post-party

For the next 2.5 hours I have no idea what time it is or really what’s going on except right immediately in front of me. Cups and ice run low then Santos and Alexis save us. Punches run out, get remade or different ones made, and menus go further out of date. We explain over and over again: “No, we don’t have anything except punch and champagne. No, the Schlitz ran out. There are two other bars in this building.”

A woman almost throws her iPhone and charger at us demanding we charge it behind the bar. Lady, we don’t even know if we have outlets back here, much less where they are. She’s infuriated when we refuse.

There are no tabs. Everything is pass and go. I manage to only make one money mistake all night, when I forget to hand someone their change while making someone else’s drinks, but he got my attention and I took care of him.

Midnight draws near. We start handing out champagne bottles. No more orders, just champagne. One woman is desperate for punch despite free champagne. Later, she screams at us for not having Sprite.

To be honest, we didn’t have many problems. One large group got drunk, we cut them off, no worries. Another guy got really drunk, didn’t want water, left without a problem. Someone else was more persistent, but never got served.

Me & Jade at the afterparty

I stopped outside for a breath of fresh air around 1 AM or so. The sidewalk is full of chain smokers, taxi and Uber fumes, people screaming, yelling, making out, puking. I go back inside to the steadily diminishing crowd.

Next thing you know it’s 4 AM. Lukas has cleared everyone out. We clean up a bunch of stuff, then head into the theater for a toast to the Passenger and all the fine folks in it.

My mom had asked me to drop her a line when I got home so she wouldn’t worry. I warned her it’d be when she was already up in the morning, feeding the horses and taking care of the dogs. Soon enough you start to see light out the ceiling window.

I look around a bit. This is it, after all.

A bit earlier than dawn

Like all of us, there’s a lot of memories in those walls. Scofflaws Den started in 2007, but a lot of our time – and our five year anniversary party, for that matter – was spent at the Passenger. It was somewhere that I knew all my friends could get a drink they’d like. It was somewhere that I’d meet up – and heck, where I?met, many of my friends. It’s where on special days you might find the special boards had drinks named after you or something you loved.

Marshall’s bitters

Hell it was a place where people would give away the stuff they liked to make, like Marshall’s bitters, and they’d have a shelf for them.

It’s where I had my first taste of the bartending bug and holy hell, it was?exhilarating. I know not every night could be like that, and that there’s lots of work I didn’t have to do (like, say, garnishing past some scraped nutmeg) but I also knew right away that I’d want to do it more and more and again and again, kind of like the first time you get laid. “OHHHH! That’s what the big deal is!”

It’s 8:30 AM on New Year’s Day at 1021 7th St. NW. Everyone else is piling into cabs or Ubers. It’s a nice morning, so I start walking to the Metro station. On the way, I pick up the phone and call my mom. I knew she’d be glad to hear from me.

I should probably keep away from any metaphors involving virginity with her. Given my family’s sense of humor, I’d never hear the end of it, or I’d hear too much.

sniff sniff sniff

Well, I know what you should do: come to the Passenger for the New Year’s Eve party! $20 after 9 PM until 4 AM, with classic Passenger and such in their space, DJ and cash bar in the Warehouse theater, and Punch Club with vintage afro/reggae in the old Hogo space. Bartending back there will be Dan Searing, Lukas Smith, and …

Me.

I’ve only been behind the bar once before to make a drink in a restaurant/bar setting (Room 11 during a Compass Box tasting) and that was over 5 years ago. So I’m very excited and only slightly terrified.

And, of course, if you didn’t know, NYE is the last night for the Passenger in their 1021 7th St NW location. While Columbia Room will be moving to Blagden’s Alley, the Passenger still hasn’t found a new home yet. So we’ll see.

Come out. Get loaded and get down. Have fun. It’ll be great!

– SeanMike

The D.C. Craft Bartender?s Guild?s 2014 Rickey Competition on Sunday at Jack Rose Dining Saloon honored a new set of mix masters, tapsters and would-be sailors who successfully reinterpreted the city?s native cocktail.

When all was said and done, Lukas Smith of Daikaya beat out his fellow competitors with the ?Supafly Rickey.? Second place went to Dustin Beruta from Cashion?s Eat Place with the ?Vanilla-Key Rickey.? Third went to Casey Hristakos from Sixth Engine with the ?Rickey Del Mar.?

Supafly is a smooth blend of Half Moon Gin, sweet potato soda and rose blossom water. Sweet potato soda, you say? Yes, they used fermentation of the root vegetable to create the ingredient. A single (sometimes superfluous) blade of lemon grass served as garnish.

Lukas himself donned a soviet-era military hat and was surrounded by fellow bartenders dressed like loud, drunken sailors. ?Rum, sodomy and the lash? Winston Churchill said are the gist of British naval tradition. The handful of seamen behind the bar at Jack Rose seemed all too familiar with that grand tradition.

Guild president Owen Thomson and vice president Dan Searing were the masters of ceremonies. Searing held the trophy up for all to see as the winner and runner up were announced. Over 50 bars and restaurants participated from around the city.

It is difficult work judging that many cocktails. Guild organizers took nearly 20 days to round up participating bartenders to make their drink for the judges. The finalists were whittled down to seven for the main event.

?I had to drink 52 rickeys myself,? Thomson said.

2014 Rickey Competition Finalists

• Lukas Smith from Daikaya with ?Supafly Rickey?
• Dustin Beruta from Cashion?s Eat Place with ?Vanilla-Key Rickey?
• Casey Hristakos from Sixth Engine with ?Rickey Del Mar?
• Jo-Jo Valenzuela from Sixth Engine with ?Asian Wickey?
• Eve Maier from Hank?s Oyster Bar with ?Yabba Dabba Dorickey?
• Galen Odell-Smedley from Mockingbird Hill with ?High Rock Rickey?
• Brian Nixon from Rose?s Luxury with ?Rickey #7?

On March 27th, for Women’s History Month, DC LUPEC is reviving a 2011 Tales of the Cocktail seminar given by four fabulous women on the history of women behind the bar. The speakers are Misty Kalkofen, Lynette Marrero, Meaghan Dorman and Kitty Amann from NY and Boston. LUPEC DC will be crafting the cocktails.

If you are interested in purchasing tickets, click here!

Cheers!

Anthony Rivera stands guard behind the bar at Beuchert’s Saloon. Photo courtesy of Tony Richards.

Behind the Stick is a series highlighting perspectives and experiences of Scofflaws Den?s veteran barman.

I?m dying for a drink. My eyes watch warming brown whiskies, sudsy beers, bubbly sparkling wines and more pouring all around me. A picture in my head shows me leaping across the bar, knocking over glassware and garnishes, to catch a stream of booze into my mouth. And it has only been three days into my month without alcohol.

It may seem a little strange to write about sobriety on a site dedicated to good hooch in its various forms. Yet, here I am, writing about just that.

Why not one drop of alcohol and why now?

First, February is the shortest month of the year with the second fewest intoxicant-related events behind January. Second, the bar/restaurant industry demands a life so drowned in the hard stuff I feel every so often one needs a real, meaningful break – a challenge.

I have done this exercise several times before of course. The only amendment I am making this year is starting before the Superbowl. I suppose I wanted to up the ante a little. As one of my favorite journalists, Christopher Hitchens, often said, the drink is a wonderful slave but a terrible master. Life, in many ways, can be about mastering one?s weaknesses.

The tricky part for a craft bartender is performing my job as flawlessly as possible. Guests often ask me to experiment when making their next cocktail. This proposition forces me to perform with one hand tied behind my back. After all, good chefs obsessively sample their food as they go along, tasting for too much salt, too little, proper seasoning and so on.

How do I get around this predicament as a mixologist?

Luckily, I have cultivated a skill set for building drinks without absolutely having to taste them. The classics: the Old Fashioned, Sazerac, Manhattan, Martini. I have mixed so many of these drinks I could serve them in my sleep (sometimes, in fact, I have lucidly dreamt of making them).

I also rely heavily on only the most trusted co-workers? palates. You see, ultimately I am never really certain of my own taste buds to determine if an original tipple is enjoyable. Brutal honesty can actually be scarce from folks expecting a high level of craftsmanship. In the end, the true test comes when a guest has swiftly gulped down one of my concoctions.

Lastly, I often prepare a guest for an eventual flop. Food and drink is so subjective even the best bartenders fail to meet expectations. Much of the service industry is designed to provide its customers with a high quality product. If that product does not meet a guest’s expectations, most of those establishments are happy to try with another attempt free of charge (this is often called a ?spill? or a ?comp?). I am upfront about that obligation and, particularly during this challenging month, make clear one does not have to commit to the beverage before them.

As I like to remind guests cheekily, ?besides, it?s not my booze.?

Washington, D.C. — A girl stirs an old fashioned cocktail at a bar on Pennsylvania Avenue in Capitol Hill.

Behind the Stick is a new series highlighting perspectives and experiences of Scofflaws Den’s veteran barman.

“If some of our guests had a stick, I know they’d poke me with it.”

I’ve been known to say this a few times when describing what it’s like to be a craft bartender (or mixologist). I?m implying, of course, that there?s a certain sideshow aspect to the cocktail revival. You truly are a performer on a stage when creating drinks.

Many bartenders adopt a ring leader-like persona. Others, like me, wish to commit their craft to the glass – mostly sotto voce. What’s fascinating is eventually everyone feels performance pressure from (or sadly even indignation towards) wide-eyed, mesmerized spectators. I often think how professional magicians can lose fondness for their audiences after doing the same trick nightly over the years.

Don’t take this the wrong way. I enjoy serving guests. I like displaying not only the glory of the final product but also the beautiful process of building a craft cocktail. I avoid pretentiousness and I am happy to chat with customers about all the bizarre tinctures and toys we use. I even love telling guests some of my tips for making great cocktails.

Still, sometimes the abrupt demands and precocious inquiries can get a bit overwhelming for some of us, particularly when we are busy. Here?s a scenario:

A guest watches as I pour whiskey, sweet vermouth, and bitters into a glass and begin to stir.

?HEY, what’s that you?re making there,? the guests asks.

?It’s a Manhattan,? I reply.

This exchange alone isn?t nearly as aggravating as when it?s been asked for the billionth time or the question is coming from a serial asker. Any good bartender learns to hide his or her annoyance. You see, from their perspective, somewhere along the way customers have taken on the habit of seeing a bartender work, pointing at a drink, and asking, ?what manner of witchcraft is this??

Admittedly, I’ve been guilty of a similar impulse. (I often look back at my intrusive interactions with craft bartenders several years ago and cringe). My curiosity overwhelmed my sense of perspective.

To be fair, it?s hard for a seasoned bartender to remind him or herself what it?s like to be in a guests’ shoes. The foodservice business has also encouraged much of the extra attention. Many restaurants now find an edge by providing more than just good fare and good service or a quick gimmick. These days the industry tries to offer guests an experience.

None of this observation really brings profound insight into some of the big problems in the world. But there’s always an interesting dynamic with each interaction between barman/barwoman and guest. We in the industry very rarely get to express our thoughts on those interactions.

The next thing I want to highlight is the Cuisinart Electric Kettle.

It holds 1.7 liters (that’s almost 7.2 cups to us non-metric folks) of water and has a handy window to see exactly how much water is in the kettle.

The kettle is “cordless” which means that the base is plugged into an outlet and the kettle heats up by being placed on the base. One design that I love on this appliance, and one I wish other manufacturers would implement, is that while the cord is rather long there is a built-in cord wrap on the bottom of the base. This lets you reach far outlets if necessary or keep the kettle close to an outlet without excess cord getting in the way.

The main selling point on the kettle though is the automatic temperature settings. Each setting has the temp and general type of beverage for that temp (even french press coffee!!!) and a “Keep Warm” function.

We use this kettle almost nightly for hot tea, on weekends for french press coffee and any other time we need boiling water. And you know what, it’s perfect for hot toddies!!!

My next gift suggestion is a simple CO2 soda siphon. Now I know you can go to the market and pick up soda water. Or you can get one of those fancy soda rivers that make all sorts of fizzy drinks. But I don’t want to keep buying plastic bottles of soda water that will go flat after I only use half of it. I also don’t drink lots of fizzy drinks so a machine that spits out all different types is overkill. That’s why I like the simple soda siphon.

This is the siphon I use at home. It also happens to be a wedding gift from my cohort SeanMike. I’ll admit it’s a little fancier than most models but you can find a bunch of different types on Amazon.

Well there you go, two more suggestions from me to you. Both the electric kettle and the soda siphon are practical gifts for the cocktail fan or budding chef in your life.

Arctic Chill sent us one of their muddlers for a review so we decided to give it a try.

The product is a nice smooth metal grip with a nylon head. It’s look is simple and basic.

One of the things I liked about this muddler is its short, stout shape. I?ve come across many metal muddlers that seemed designed more like some arm-length car mechanic?s tool. I could appreciate Arctic Chill?s design in that way.

This muddler, like other metal ones, is fitted with teeth on the bottom which makes them better suited for crushing than their wooden counterparts.

Its effectiveness in crushing citrus and other ingredients definitely lives up to the message. It was quite easy to mash up a slice of orange and a cherry into sugar and bitters, if that?s something you want to do.

As most cocktailians know, muddling is really less about ?crushing? ingredients and more about opening them up.

The point is not to pulverize mint leaves into sugar when making a mojito as Bacardi commercials would have you believe.

(I suspect this misunderstanding of how mojitos are made is one of the reasons so many bartenders claim to hate making them.)

Many herbs are so delicate it takes little more than a light tap to release the oils and aromas of the plant.

So, I’m not a big fan of the tag line on the box, ?crush citrus fruits, herbs and spices with ease,? for this reason.

One other concern I would have regarding this product would be its durability over time with either being washed by hand or in a machine. Still, nothing in my review led me necessarily to believe it would degrade over time.

I generally prefer wood muddlers. They can be particularly beautiful and have an appeal the way many baseball fans prefer wood bats over metal ones. Both materials have their benefits and, in many ways, it simply comes down to a matter of preference.

The Arctic Chill muddler is great for the amateur mixologist at home. It would also work for a restaurant or bar that was simply looking for a reliable tool for day-to-day muddling.

See our videos for our a closer look at Arctic Chill’s product in action.