Part 3 of my Mid-life Martini Makeover: On the eve of Day 8 and the big test...doing research, again...Working the angles (always)...

by hans peter meyer

It's very late (or: it's very early). I've just come in from more research. Yes. Research. Got to find out how real-world bartenders operate, the craziness of the bar, the cacophony of it, the sheer work of it.

Also, I was hungry. Not really wanting a drink, but hungry. And, as I'm in Vancouver's West End, where nightlife should be ubiquitous... and ongoing... and lively...

I ended up in the Bayview Lounge. Not that I could see English Bay, but I knew it was just out there, in the dark somewhere. They were still serving food at 11:30, the scene was lively (I could watch the boys and girls and men at play – not too many women older than my daughters, though), and the music wasn't too loud.

What I really liked about the place though was the bar: in the round. I had a view of more than just the bartender and the bottles; I got to see the other side of the room, and I got to see inside the bar as it was sunken. Very cool.

Anyway, I wasn't feeling like drinking (I'd done my research on a number – not sure which number, but a number – of very, very, very dry Bombay martinis the night before and my body was still working on the results).

So I had a beer. A restorative, almost healthy beverage. Two actually. Because they took so long with my natchos (OK, dinner wasn't being served anymore, just the high carb, high fat stuff euphemistically called "appetizers") that my bartender comped me a second sleeve of whatever lager they'd just installed on tap. Not bad lager. But I'm getting fussy with what I drink. And this was not a bar where the choice of beers on tap was extensive. If I was a beer drinker, a serious brew-guy and not a fair-weather hop head, I'd have walked out once I saw what was on the menu. Way limited. The hard menu, on the other hand... From my perch I got to look at an extensive selection of boozes just waiting for some exploration and experimentation.

One of the things I've learned at Bartending 101, thanks to Ryan and the lovely Suzanne, is that most of the mixology that happens is pretty mercenary. Not too dissimilar from working in a fast food joint. Fake flavours mixed with a minimum of waste and time to deliver maximum impact in terms of customer booze-satisfaction and house finances. That's the industry standard.

I've been lucky (or, just plain fussy?); my experiences in bars haven't been of this industrial, fast food variety. In fact, thanks to guys like Torrie at Atlas Bar and Café in Courtenay, and Freddy at Avenue in Comox, my experiences have been borderline haute mixology. These guys have indulged my every whim. Sampling all the vodkas on the shelf. Touring through bourbon country. Bringing cachaça and muddling fresh limes with just the right amount of

sugar (always, always less than whatever recipe we're working from calls for), and making me a kind of "caipirihña" King in my home town. They've attended to me, indulged me, given m e the kind of service I appreciate. the kind of service I will pay for and return to. (The picture on the right is of Kyla muddling up a caipirihña para mi when she worked at Atlas a couple of years ago. Another muy bueno bartender who I appreciated.)

That's the way I want to tend bar. If and when it happens. What I'm learning with Suzanne and Ryan is how to survive, even thrive, in environments that don't admit of this kin d of customer exploration and attention. First one learns how to do the basic pours, how to tell the difference between the booze in the well and the booze on the wall, how to help the customer find their mix-fix for the evening, how to put some cash into the pocket at the end of the shift. And though it's the industrial model we're learning, I can see the opps for my craft-inclination s. Today, in an interview I video-ed with Ryan, he talked about the current trend in bartending: handcrafted boozology, infusions of Earl Grey and other herbals. He also hinted strongly about – and demo-ed – some flair 'tending. Fun stuff. So yes, I'm hooked.

I didn't see much of this at the Bayview. I took in the scene, a couple of lagers, and the late plate of natchos (remind never, ever to eat a plate of these by myself again; all that fat and carbohydrate content is meant for sharing...). I watched the bartenders be real real b usy, doing things we've been told are the slow way of doing things, but somehow managing. I watched some drunk girls do their drunk girls thing (one of today's lessons: bars tolerate drunk girls – but not drunk boys/men; for some reason it's attractive to the male clientèle... go figure...). I reflected on whether I'd really want to put in long night in the noise, serving folks stuff that makes the m behave in interesting, sometimes awful ways (another lesson from today: most of the bad things that folks do, they do under the influence of booze... when spiritual guidance bec omes spiritual license...).

A few things to think on, for sure. But the biggest thing to think on is this: How am I going to do all I have on my plate tomorrow, and still study the 100 or so drinks I've got to have memorized so I'm prepared for the big exam tomorrow? Will I pass Bartending 101?

I'm a great student but a lousy studier. So I've done my best to polish the apple, one of my great skills and talents. I brought chocolates into class. Offered the cute teacher a ride to the bus (declined – but hey, I tried). Showed her a couple of dance moves whilst the rest of the class was busy mixing mixing mixing (accepted, gratefully – yes!).

Will my apple-polishing outweigh the memory deficits that'll be all too apparent once she tells me to mix up a Blue Hawaiian, Gin Gimlet, Long Island Ice Tea, Vodka Paralyzer, and Zombie – accurately, without spilling an oz. of the precious liquid, and within 3.45 minutes? I don't know, but I'm counting on it...

– 30 –