When the subject of my bar comes up in new conversation, I generally get a peppering of three (logical) questions. “What kind of place will it be?” “Where is it located?” and “What’s it called?” Well, I’ve already answered the location query and I’m full of semi-intentionally vague answers as to the kind of place it will be, so I’ll tell you here the story of the name “Beaker & Flask” and what it means to me. If you pay close attention, you’ll probably get a good idea of what the true answer might be to question number one.
Remember a post back when I said that Jerry Thomas was the standard bearer for those of us in the bartender profession? Well, I lied. While he may be considered number one to many, he comes in a distant second (maybe third, fourth…) for me. If I have to name an actual personal hero (and I don’t have many), I would have to say that Charles Baker would probably qualify. Charles Baker, or Chas, as I like to call him, was a world traveler and bon vivant back in the early part of the 20th century. He was an astute connoisseur of fine food, drink and culture and he chronicled his observations in a series of books, the most notable being “The Gentleman’s Companion”. It’s a tough book to get your hands on these days, but there are reprints out there and if you have an interest in cocktails or just enjoy a good read in a somewhat recipiac (can I say that?) format, I would highly recommend seeking it out. I’m not going to go in to what’s in the book, because this is not a book report and it’s not really relevant to the story.
Back in 1998, a very dear friend of mine lost her Grandfather, who passed on after leading something of an extraordinary life in the wine business of Southern California.
Upon going through his vast library, a number of old books about spirits and spirit culture were discovered. With me being a somewhat under educated, yet passionate young barkeep, the books were bequeathed into my care. Among them was a first edition, autographed copy of the aforementioned two volume set “The Gentleman’s Companion”, The second volume was entitled “Being an Exotic Drinking Book or Around the World With Jigger, Beaker and Flask” This book had an immediate impact on me. It touched my inner wanderlust, it sparked my desire to learn more about my craft and most important, it validated my choice of profession. Reading Baker brought out my romantic ideal of bartending. It’s part Hemmingway and part Julia Child. I was talking to my new friend Jimmy Patrick the other night and he made the comment that it took a second or third read to realize that there are recipes in there. And it’s true, the prose he uses tells the story of the drink and every good cocktail needs an origin. I had planned to quote my favorite passage here, but looking through my, now, well worn copy I just could not settle upon a single story as my favorite. Instead, I open blindly to a page and will quote what is written, and you’ll see what I mean.
“NEXT MARCHES the BAKER “HORSE COLLAR” Originated by the author A.D. 1935, upon Running into Stonington, Rhode Island, ahead of a Howling Nor’Easter when Heading South from Lawley’s Yard to Florida in MARMION
This hotter toddy was invented by these sere and palsied hands, quite through luck and accident. Our 56 foot ketch MARMION having just been discharged with a new and costly main trys’l re-rig from Lawley’s Yard, the split-spirit necessary to spreading that fancy triangular bit of canvas became known as the “Horse Collar.” On the run from Cape Cod to New York, we stuck our noses into a snoring nor’easter, which added up so quickly that we dropped the hook at Stonington, Rhode Island, rather than be shaken up any more than necessary. It was nearly November and cold as hades. Well that night all hands screamed for hot rum, and we found no lemons in the lazarette- and to many otherwise cultured folk, a hot rum without a dash of lemon is like the Democratic Party without the ghost of Jefferson, Tom without Jerry, a Cuban without his mistress. But we had oranges!- and thereby hangs a tale. For suddenly we thought of orange peel- and orange peel roasted with wild duck and how superbly fragrant it can become. Scarcely daring to hope for anything virtuous coming out of the effort we proceeded as follows.
Tin cups for mariners, silver julep cups for fancies
Carta de Oro Bacardi, Jamaica, Barbados, or Haitian rum, 2 jiggers
Orange peel, 1 to each cup, cut in unbroken spiral
Brown sugar, 1 tsp per cup
Whole cloves, 6; or powdered clove, 1/4 tsp per cup
Boiling water, enough to fill
Butter, 1/2 tsp, optional”
I carried this book with me to all of my subsequent shifts at Wildwood and then on to my days at Paley’s Place. All the while, marking with paper clips, the pages that inspired new ideas and things I wanted to try. Hell fire bitters, his whole section of Champagne Cocktails and, of course, THE ZAMBOANGA “ZEINIE” COCKTAIL, another Palate-Twister from the land where Monkeys Have No Tails.
Eventually I figured out that this book was valuable, so now it rests, in a zip-lock bag in the back of my liquor cabinet, always ready to drag something new from my mind. When it came time to choose a name for my bar, I harkened back to my days in high school sitting in my friend Chris’ basement thinking of what we were going to name our band. I considered other books I enjoyed (The Joy of Pickling), but it wasn’t long before Chas Baker came to mind and Beaker & Flask it was. I should say that I also have this whole idea about the symbolism of the words Beaker and Flask as well. Beaker meaning the experimentation of what I’m trying to do and Flask symbolizing the true spirit, in its purest form, but that goes to the design of the space and I’ll get into that at a later date.
