The Liquorato’s cocktails (continued)
	How the cocktail got its name There are nearly as many stories about the origin of the term "cocktail" as there are boozers on Bourbon Street. Needless to say, these stories concocted around drinking run the gamut from sober and plausible to shitfaced and ludicrous. Drunk or sober, all cocktail historians agree that the cocktail as we know it first originated in the 18th century under the Thomas Jefferson administration. In these early days before ice machines, shakers, and martini glasses, the cocktail functioned primarily as a morning-after drink. In the early years before bitters were available, cocktails normally consisted of a mix of alcohol from the night before and whatever pick-me-up was available from the medicine cabinet. Cocktail historian and mixologist Ted Haigh wrote Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails (2004) and is one of the founding fathers of the new Museum of the American Cocktail in New Orleans. Haigh believes the real story of the origin of the term cocktail comes from this early tradition of a morning pick-me-up. "You stayed up all night and you drank a cocktail in the morning to help revive you or you just woke up and you needed some hair of the dog," says Haigh. The drink capping hours of boozing marked the "tail" end of the night with "the rooster [cock] heralding the early morning light — cocktail." If you feel like you’ll need a couple more drinks to swallow that story, here are a few other famous theories: • The Bitchy Barmaid Theory: Betsy Flanagan was a barmaid at an inn near Yorktown in 1779 who hated a neighboring English farmer. One night, American soldiers stole male pheasants from her nemesis’s farm and threw a wild party at Betsy’s tavern. During the drunken revelry, soldiers decorated the sides of their glasses with feathers from the roosters’ tails. A French soldier in the pub, overcome with spirits and joie de vivre, raised his glass and shouted "Vive le cocktail!" • The Princess Lush Theory: Around 1800, King Axolot VIII of Mexico met with an American general to discuss a peace treaty to end fighting along the border. The King’s beautiful daughter Coctel brought the men a jewel-encrusted cup filled with a mix of alcohol of her own design. As soon as she entered, the attending dignitaries gasped, appalled that she had only brought one drink rather than two. Quick on her toes, the princess nodded elegantly to the two men and knocked back the drink herself. The general was understandably enchanted and pronounced that the name "Coctel" would be famous in his country and throughout the world forever. • The H.L. Mencken Theory: In colonial days, bars would serve booze from giant ceramic casks. There was a cask for every type of alcohol the bar carried — whiskey, rum, gin — as well as an empty cask for the leftovers. When the various casks were nearly empty, the alcohol inside was transferred to the empty cask, creating a mixed drink which was referred to as the "cock tailing" because of the stop-cock that was used to dispense the alcohol. • The Drunken Cock Theory: Early American settlers loved a good cockfight. To spice up the rancor between the two birds, the animals’ owners mixed alcohol into the birdfeed before a bout. When the men grew bored of the cockfight and decided to have their own rumble, they often knocked back a strong drink called "cockpride" to prod them onward to excessive violence. Many believe this term later became "cocktail." Why so many variations? Haigh says it’s the fault of the cocktail itself. See, when you’re piss drunk, it’s hard to remember details correctly. "Certainly it’s true, if you drink, you just don’t know what you’re going to remember or believe," says Haigh. Was that a princess I met last night or a raunchy old barmaid? Guess I’ll have another cocktail and ruminate on it. —SD

Liquorati have fallen in love with the Gin Fizz since the Ramos brothers first whipped up the drink over a century ago. Henry C. Ramos created the meringue concoction sometime around 1880 in his bar at Meyer’s Restaurant in New Orleans. For decades, Ramos and his brother secretly shared the frothy white drink with only their close friends, until Prohibition suddenly, and ironically, jumpstarted a whole new market for delicious, illicit cocktails, prompting the brothers to introduce the Gin Fizz to the masses in 1915. Today, the Gin Fizz is one of New Orleans’s most famous drinks. The drink includes strange ingredients like a whole egg and orange-flower water, but those who drink one made by a bartender who can really pull it off are nearly always hooked for life.

"The important thing with this drink is to shake the living hell out of it," says Myers. "What you’re trying to do is make the meringue. When you think you’ve shaken it enough, shake it a little more. This is a great morning-after drink. Nice and smooth on the stomach and somehow you manage to slip a little gin past yourself."

The Gin Fizz looks like a vanilla milkshake when prepared properly and has a smooth, sweet flavor. Some people add vanilla, though Myers thinks this overwhelms the delicacy of the gin.

1.5 oz. Gin

3 drops Orange Flower Water

.5 oz. Lemon Juice

.5 oz. Lime Juice

1 oz. Cream

1 Egg White

(shake like hell)

Top with Soda

The Brandy Crusta — 1850 ("The Missing Link")

"A Crusta is a particular little breed of drink which seems to require two things to make it legitimate: a frosted wine glass and the entire peel of a lemon or orange fitted into the glass."

— From Trader Vic’ Bartender’s Guide, by Victor Jules Bergeron (1947)

According to cocktail historian Tom Haigh, the Brandy Crusta was created by Joe Santini sometime in the 1850s. Originally hailed as an "improvement" on the cocktail, which previously was defined roughly as alcohol with some kind of bitters added, the orange-flavored Crusta became the template from which some of today’s most popular cocktails were created.

"The Brandy Crusta is the drink that started it," says Myers. "This is the drink that begat the Sidecar, which begat the Margarita, which begat the Cosmopolitan. It includes the basic cocktail elements — it has a strong spirit, a weak spirit, a sweet spirit, and a sour component. You’ve got these four arguing with each other and somehow the synergy creates this other flavor."

The orange Curacao in the Crusta creates a distinctly sweet candy flavor. Serve straight-up in an elegant glass with an optional garnish of one lemon rind and a sugar-coated rim.

1.5 oz. Brandy

.25 oz. Maraschino liqueur (or substitute cherry liqueur)

.5 oz Orange Curacao

1 dash aromatic bitters

.25 oz. Fresh Lemon juice

Stir in mixing glass with ice and strain.

The Sazerac — 1900? ("The Immortal")

"Hold under the nose, inhale the fragrant blend of scents, sip and relax . . . This, then, my dear children, is just how little Sazaracs are born! Mark well . . ."

— From The Gentleman’s Companion, by Baker

Originally served in a glass coated with absinthe, the Sazerac is known in bartending circles as the original New Orleans cocktail. The Sazerac first appeared in city bars at the turn of the last century. Soon, nearly every bartender in town was slingin’ the simple concoction. Sazerac fans have long warned against tinkering with the simple formula, since any change could ruin the drink altogether. The single acceptable alteration is to replace absinthe with Pernod, as the former is currently banned in the US. Thought to be the precursor of the Manhattan, the depth of the Sazerac’s rich red hue is matched only by the drink’s distinctly sharp licorice flavor.

This is Myers’s favorite drink, chiefly because it includes his favorite type of alcohol — whiskey. Whiskey, for the Liquorato, is one of America’s most important contributions to world culture, along with baseball and jazz. The Sazerac, he believes, symbolizes the rebellious and cantankerous spirit in all of us.

"The Sazerac has got this great perfume to it," Myers says. "The Pernod really brings out the taste of the anise bitters. It’s a great drink to have with a cigar."

2 oz. Rye whiskey

10 dashes Peychaud Bitters

1 teaspoon sugar

Lemon peel to flavor rim

Coat a thick-bottomed rocks glass with absinthe or Pernod by rolling the liquid around the inside of the glass and removing the excess. Mix above ingredients with ice and strain. Run a fresh lemon peel along the rim to flavor the glass with the oil and aroma of the fruit. Serve neat with a smoking Ashton VSG.

After the three drinks have been mixed and the afternoon sun has softened, the Liquorato ends his tale with a Sazerac in hand and the future of bartending in Portland on his mind. The drama of the drink, he fears, is disappearing in port city.

"If the customer doesn’t appreciate the craft, the bartender can get pissed off," he says. "But not all bartenders appreciate the craft, unfortunately. Portland’s an interesting study in this because nobody goes into bartending as a career — it’s just something you do while you’re in college or something to do while you’re going to get your real-estate license. And it’s our fault, too, because we don’t train bartenders in the craft and pageantry, we just teach them how to make a drink for the shift that we need them."

He sips his Sazerac thoughtfully.

"The only way we can ever move forward is to keep both eyes on the rearview mirror, looking back to the tradition and heritage. And the pageantry."

The Liquorato empties the last bit of red liquid from his glass and falls silent. His cocktail is finished.

Sara Donnelly can be reached at sdonnelly@phx.com.