Houston Food Blog

Last week, we trekked out to the old Saint Arnold brewery to watch as Phil Dagger and the rest of the line crew bottled the limited-run Divine Reserve #9, which will hit store shelves on December 1. (Oh, and we sampled a little. Just a little. Don't worry; we left some for you.)

Halfway through gathering footage for the video you'll see below, a terrible tragedy befell the bottling line. Between the inch of beer that covers the floor of the production area and the fact that Eating Our Words is notoriously uncoordinated, we accidentally hit the emergency shutoff switch for the facility, ruining some of the bottles of Divine Reserve in the process. Oops. Our bad.

The reaction we got when we posted news of the incident on Twitter speaks to the zeal with which beer lovers regard the Divine Reserve brews: @BiteMeHouston put it best with his simple command, "Please remove yourself from the brewery." Luckily, crisis was averted as Dagger swooped into the filling room and restarted the bottling line with only a few bottles sacrificed to our clumsiness.

You can see a video of the entire bottling process below, which is much safer for the beer world, really, than viewing it in person. Trust us.

Photo by Troy Fields

​When I eat expensive sushi, it's usually at family dinners honoring special occasions — my little brother coming down from Austin for Mom's birthday, my little brother getting out of city lockup, my little brother beating that misdemeanor drug charge. (Lesson learned: Don't bring weed through the downtown Greyhound station. If the pipsqueak POS security guard there finds it, he'll call the real police faster than you can say nigirizushi.) Cheaper sushi, on the other hand, is used to help absorb all the discounted booze I consume when I go with friends to happy hour at a Japanese joint.

That was the case on Tuesday, when I first tried the lychee-tini at Miyako (3910 Kirby, 713-520-9797). I agree, any drink that ends in "tini" without beginning in "mar" is suspect, but this tropical concoction is delicious and, surprisingly, not too sweet. (You old-school types don't need to worry about your image — in the restaurant's dim light, the drink could easily be mistaken for a Gibson.) After several rounds, the only drawback I noticed was that I found myself vowing to get my life on track by joining the Coast Guard in order to finance a history degree, two things I wasn't even aware I wanted to do before the lychees starting working their magic.

1 1/2 ounces Absolut vodka

1 1/2 ounces lychee juice

splash of triple sec

Shake over ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a peeled, de-pitted lychee fruit. Repeat five times and subject your friends to a monologue on the merits of dockside bars.

Photos by Groovehouse

Caleb Gutierrez's michelada, rimmed with cumin and salt

​While we may not have a palate for wine, it's no secret that Eating Our Words loves beer. And hot sauce. And the two of those things magically mixed together in a pint glass. So in the interest of further promoting this concoction, we agreed to judge this past Sunday's michelada and Bloody Mary throwdown at Beaver's Ice House.

Wait. We know what you're thinking. Wasn't there just a michelada throwdown a few months ago, complete with National Geographic-style video footage of the event? Yes, there was. But some competitors don't handle losing gracefully. And sometimes those competitors call for a rematch.

Unlike the last michelada throwdown, however, there were more than three contenders and more than just micheladas being mixed. Ten chefs and bartenders (and even a barista) competed to see whose michelada was el maximo and whose Bloody Mary was the bloody best.

​We took one last trip to the old Saint Arnold brewery today for a very special occasion: Divine Reserve #9 is being bottled and brewed at this very moment, ready to hit store shelves on December 1.

This particular batch of Divine Reserve was created by Nicholas Walther, a young brewer who's only been with the Saint Arnold team since 2008. Michael Harris, head brewer, admitted to being skeptical of Walther's recipe at first: it's an Imperial Stout Pumpkin Ale. In other words, that's a lot of notes for one beer.

But when they tasted the sample batch that Walther cooked up, the team agreed that this would be their next Divine to hit the bottling line. We sampled a fresh bottle this morning and were surprised to find that although it was very malty (like the recent Divine Reserve #8 that we didn't particularly care for), it was extraordinary. This might be our favorite Divine Reserve yet.

Eating Our Words headed over to The Guy Expo at the George R. Brown Convention Center this past weekend, where we found -- as expected -- a plethora of manly products for sale, manly sports to play, manly women to ogle (wait, that came out wrong...) and manly foods to sample. Check out our favorite man foods from The Guy Expo below.

Photo by Troy Fields

​When I attended University of Houston, the only on-campus watering holes I frequented were the stadium parking lot and the Communication Building. (During one end-of-the-semester newspaper party, a colleague who also went on to write for this very column nearly pissed on my head from a second-story walkway. We're a classy bunch.) But today's UH students have a drinking option not available even at that party school in Austin — a fully-stocked on-campus bar. Jason, one of three owners of The Cougar Den (4800 Calhoun, 713-743-2255), tells me he and two friends opened the place in December because they were tired of other establishments relegating UH games to tiny TVs. "This is our fucking town," he says. And this is clearly their fucking bar.

He mixes me a Cougar Cooler — basically a red Long Island Iced Tea — and shows me around the place. The crowd is eclectic. The drinks, including the 18 beers on tap, are incredibly cheap. The nearly pristine main room is littered with UH memorabilia. The ladies' room — a particular point of pride for the ownership — is nicer than my apartment. And though it's hard to tell at night, Jason insists the view through the bar's large bay windows is spectacular. Pulling a gold spyglass out of a leather pouch, he aims his gaze toward the campus recreation center across the street. He says he's scanning the sidewalk for a species he calls the "North American brown-bellied mattress-thrasher." With skippers like Jason and Co. at the helm, UH students should be well served for some time.

3/4 ounce vodka

3/4 ounce rum

3/4 ounce gin

3/4 ounce triple sec liqueur

splash of sweet & sour, pineapple juice

and cranberry juice

Pour ingredients over ice in a Collins glass.Stir.

​It came as a bit of a shock after a successful grand opening party last Wednesday night to find out that Saint Arnold's much-anticipated Saturday afternoon brewery tour -- a regular weekly event and the first at their new facility -- had been cancelled late last week.

As with most snafus when it comes to local restaurant or bar business matters, the trouble here lies with the City of Houston and its bumbling team of inspectors. (Ed note: We were off our meds and apologize for implying the City of Houston inspectors weren't performing their jobs properly or correctly. We have no idea either way.) Although Brock Wagner, the brewery owner, thought that all the correct permits were in place, Ronnie Crocker over at the Chronicle explains that wasn't the case. City inspectors still need to sign off on fire alarm and sprinkler systems, while also determining what other building issues -- if any -- need to be resolved in order for the permits to be issued.

"They're trying to work with us," Wagner told the Chron. "But at the same time, they're not just going to look the other way."

No additional news was available from Saint Arnold today, but we'll raise a glass tonight in hopes that the permit conflict is resolved in time for this Saturday. We trust that when Brock says, "We'll get through it," they will.

​I had been asked to leave establishments for unbecoming conduct, but never for trying to cover a place for the paper. So I was surprised when that happened at Dirt Bar (222 Yale, 713-426-4222), where media types are apparently not welcome -- at least not while on the job. The bartender told me they consider DB more of a private club (as does TABC, I'm sure) and try to keep things low-key. We don't even have a sign, he explained. Well, neither does Lola's, and they don't cop an attitude about it. Of course, comparing those two is like putting an On the Border up against the best taqueria in town.

A little confused and too sober to deal with an Auto-Tuned version of a rock and roll bar, my buddy and I decided to explore the other end of the spectrum with some girly drinks at the Tavern on Gray (1340 W. Gray, 713-522-5152), which is the kind of place that will not let you in if you have knuckle tattoos, even if they say "JAGR BOMB." Bartender Cassie reluctantly suggested Bay Breezes; when a lady is embarrassed to make you a certain drink, you know you've chosen well. At 1 a.m. we were picking the cherries out of our pink cocktails and listening to a karaoke Bonnie Raitt. There's little chance the Tavern is going to make me love it anytime soon, but at least no one's putting on airs.

1 1/4 ounces vodka

1/4 ounce triple sec

1 ounce pineapple juice

2 ounces cranberry juice

splash grenadine

Pour ice and ingredients into a highball glass and stir. Garnish with a lime, orange wedge and maraschino cherries. Drink like a menopausal woman on a bender.

Photo by Troy Fields

​Bartender Matt Trimble of Catbird's (1336 West­heimer, 713-523-8000) is an impressive man. Before taking his current job, he undertook a weeks-long bicycle odyssey from Houston to New York, sleeping on the side of the road and surviving on his ability to charm strangers. He dates an exotic journalist who makes a young Christiane Amanpour look like a present-day Helen Thomas. And, most importantly, he made me an outstanding Sunday hangover cure, despite suffering from a long-­running case of poison ivy he acquired while tending a community garden. (He claimed poison ivy isn't contagious after the first day or so. Still no unsightly blisters on my body that weren't there before, so I suspect he's right.)

The shot, which Matt and fellow bartender Sean invented, is called a Truck Stop Cappuccino. It tastes uncannily similar to a gas station push-­button blend, so it's good if you prefer alcohol's effects to its flavor. Of course, since this is a neighborhood bar — Sean refers to Catbird's as "the Cheers of Montrose" — the bartenders will be happy to add Bacardi 151 to taste, if you like your coffee breaks a little morepotent.

1/2 ounce Stoli vanilla vodka

1/2 ounce Frangelico liqueur

1/2 ounce Kahlúa liqueur

Splash of Bacardi 151 rum, if desired

Shake over ice. Serve in a Styrofoam cup with a stir stick. If you consider Matt and Sean's concoction the best part of waking up, maybe it's time to cut back.

​Last autumn, when you could only get smooth, creamy, Real Ale Coffee Porter on draft, I named it one of my Top Ten Texas beers. This year, I was delighted to find it in bottles. I wasn't so delighted by the $9 price tag at the Bunker Hill HEB, but I gritted my teeth and paid up.

​Walk into Absinthe, and it's almost guaranteed that Karen Racine will be pouring your drink. Karen, or at least someone she's related to. "I actually own the bar going on six years. My sister and I own this, and she and my brother-in-law own Bowl. We have a staff of five, and it's all pretty much family. It's me and my sister, my brother-in-law works Wednesdays, my cousin cocktails...the only one who isn't family is the guy who makes the pizza. And we're getting a new bartender; he's another one of my cousins. We do hire out, but it seems like it always just comes back to family."

Photo by jk5854

​It is a dinner that begins with pheasant sausage coupled with a robust pumpkin beer and ends with a stout (beer) ice cream.

Along the way there will be more sausage and bratwurst, a beer-braised duck and an apple tart (to go with the beer ice cream).

Once again, Chef Michael Kramer of VOICE (in Hotel ICON, 220 Main) will host a Fall Harvest Beer Dinner on Tuesday, October 13, at 7 p.m., complete with four-course meal and a variety of different kinds of beer -- all for $55 a person (plus tax and tip).

Asked who would be attracted to such a dinner, Kramer says, "People that love food, but obviously the more beer drinker. If you're not a real beer drinker it's probably not going to be your thing. Somebody who likes a little bit more hardy food."

The fall season seems to spark a new round of creativity among brewmeisters, Kramer says, hence the assortment of beer infused with essense of pumpkin and other flavors.

Contact VOICE at 832-667-4470 or online for reservations and, you know, come with an appetite.

Photos by Katharine Shilcutt

The winning cocktail

​​If the results of Monday night's Manhattan Experience contest are anything to go by, the answer is yes.

It appears -- for now, at least -- that bacon hasn't entirely jumped the shark. The winning entry in the Woodford Reserve Manhattan Experience at the Houston Museum of Natural Science featured a Manhattan augmented with maple syrup and candied bacon, a concoction devised by Derek Black, bartender at The Rockwood Room.

The smokiness of the candied bacon bits that rimmed the martini glass subtly augmented the woodsy flavor of the bacon-infused Woodford Reserve bourbon, with a sweet finish from the similarly woodsy maple syrup (used in place of sweet vermouth), making for an almost irresistable cocktail from top to bottom.

Baklava Manhattan

Other entries in the event were equally impressive, with an emphasis on creatively enhancing the classic Manhattan recipe of bourbon, bitters and sweet vermouth. Dimitra Kriticos of Olympia at Pier 21 (the popular Kriticos family's second restaurant in Galveston) created a baklava-inspired Manhattan that featured cinnamon and nutmeg in a powdered sugar-rimmed glass with a glistening bite of baklava on the side. Joe Le from Aca Sushi created a Japanese-themed Manhattan with green tea liqueur. And our personal favorite Manhattan, in which a whole vanilla bean was reduced in Grand Marnier and infused into the cocktail, was created by Michael Raymond of Reserve 101.

Photo by Troy Fields

​It was dangerously close to Tuesday morning, it was raining and I was combing the gutter outside Lone Star Saloon (1900 Travis, 713-757-1616) for a receipt I shouldn't have thrown away. Bartender Kari was helping me look because a) she's gracious, b) it was the merchant copy, which she needed to prove I'd paid my rather excessive tab, and c) there was no one else in the bar to serve, anyway. Yeah, it was one of those nights. Kari, a heavy-equipment operator, moved to Galena Park after getting laid off in her home state of Oregon. Unable to find work in her field, she started bartending at the downtown dive three months ago.

After hearing her story, I offered to buy her a green drink of her choice in honor of the Beaver State. She had yet to add that hue to her mixological repertoire, so one of my companions suggested a green demon. We improvised a recipe with what the Lone Star had on hand, with mixed results: It tasted like Hi-C Ecto Cooler and, thanks to the bar's tight pour control policy, cost about as much as a steakhouse martini. They were plenty potent, though — I'm usually not one to grab the wrong receipt or litter. Blame it on demonic influence.

1 ounce vodka

1 ounce light rum

1 ounce Midori liqueur

Shake vodka, rum and Midori and pour over ice in a highball glass. Top off with lemonade and a cherry, if such luxuries are available. Repeating this process may result in involuntary exorcism.

You're a man. You like beer. In fact, hurray, beer! But just because you are a virile male doesn't mean that you can't glance over at the girl holding a beverage with a delightful fruit skewer and think, "Gee, that looks fun and refreshing, I'll order that next!" Right? Wrong! There are certain cocktails it would be very hard to get away with ordering in public.

Photo by Chuckumentary

​Pink Lady

Gin
Grenadine
Lemon
Egg white

When a man wears a pink polo shirt, he is owning his sexuality. When he orders a pink and frothy cocktail, is he doing the same? That's up for you to decide, as Anvil is currently serving the Pink Lady on its 100 List.

Photo by Troy Fields

​The new Washington Avenue scene is advancing eastward, and I went to issue a front-line report at Sawyer Park Sports Bar (2412 Washington Ave., 713-398-8442). Upon entering the brightly lit, sterile downstairs area, I began to miss the dirty old days when the Pig Stand used to, uh, stand where this new bar is now located. Too young to be nostalgic, I decided to burn away those memories with booze.

Bartender Courtney obliged my request for a shot, mixing a grape-vodka-based drink that we promptly gave the worst name in the world. After downing my Courtney Cox, I headed to the second-floor patio in search of a little character. The expansive porch was nicer than I expected. I ended up discussing the striking skyline view with a group of gregarious Irishmen on the tail end of a road trip across the South. Paul, a navigator in the "small but feisty" Irish navy, and James, a Galway dairy product salesman, also lamented Houston's lack of respect for history. But the Bayou City's certainly not without its upside. "There are huge knockers here," says James, gesturing toward my writing pad. "Put that in yer booook." Duly noted, mate.

1 ounce Three Olives grape vodka

Splash sweet and sour

Splash Red Bull

Splash 7 Up

Mix with ice in a shaker and strain into a shot glass.

Smooth, but feisty.

Photos by Jeff Balke

​The Italian Cultural Center was fit to bursting on Saturday afternoon with wine and food lovers from across the city. The sold-out Wine Conference featured sessions, classes and tastings with wine experts such as Gary Vaynerchuck as well as an outdoor food and wine expo with some of Houston's and Texas's favorite restaurants and wineries.

​Some drama came early in the afternoon when Chef Robert Gadsby -- recently of Bedford and currently unemployed -- was a no-show for the expo. Although conference organizer Geri Druckman had just spoken with Gadsby three days prior (he was in Japan at the time), he was unable to reach the chef for a final confirmation in the days leading up to the conference. Gadsby never showed, nor did he call to apologize or explain his absence. This latest move has fueled further speculation that Gadsby doesn't plan on returning to Houston at all, instead making a go of it in another city -- or perhaps another country.

Luckily, local barista and co-owner of Tuscany Coffee David Buehrer was attending the conference and happened to have all his equipment on hand from a catering gig earlier in the day. Buehrer churned out crowd-pleasing espressos and lattes from the spot which Gadsby would have occupied, a win-win for guests and the conference.

For more photos from the afternoon's event, feast on our slideshow.

Photo by Troy Fields

​Walking up to Rudyard's (2010 Waugh, 713-521-0521) on a recent weeknight, I felt ready for the day's second date with futility. The first rendezvous had gone down that afternoon; it included driving around Montrose fruitlessly searching for whoever went into my backyard the night before and swiped my lady friend's bike. (Assuming the thief was a man, I've got a message for him: Hope you like riding a girls' bike, shithead.) Round two was to come in the form of a couple rounds of darts with friends. We athletes -- fun fact: Darts is actually considered a sport in certain parts of the world -- decided a shot might improve our accuracy.

I asked bartender Stacy to conjure up something special; she deferred to co-worker Ann's recipe for a Pineapple Lifesaver. I didn't take it as a good sign that Stacy smelled the shaker skeptically before dispensing the cloudy yellow liquid into shot glasses, but it actually tasted like pineapple candy. The dart games weren't as smooth, although I did repeatedly show the backboard who's boss. Frustration mounting, I quit in favor of having a seat in Rudz's bunker-like back room and plotting a sting operation to nab a bike thief or two.

1/2 ounce vanilla vodka

1/2 ounce vodka

1/2 ounce pineapple juice

Shake with ice and strain into a shot glass.

​Next Saturday, Houston will be hosting a home-grown festival unlike any other the city has seen. The Wine Conference will bring together an assortment of food and wine personalities -- both national and local -- along with a high-tech twist that's due in large part to its founder, Geri Druckman.

In addition to such widely known wine experts as Denman Moody and Guy Stout, Druckman has also brought in social media star Gary Vaynerchuk, host of the popular online Wine Library TV series, to speak at the one-day conference. And what's great wine without great food? That's where local restauranteurs and chefs like Carmelo Mauro, Jonathan Jones, Robert Gadsby and Randy Rucker come in. Eager to find out the good gossip behind Gadsby's departure from Bedford and Rucker's from the Rainbow Lodge? We dare you to go to The Wine Conference and ask for yourselves.

In preparation for the event, we asked Druckman to talk to us a bit about what makes The Wine Conference so special.

Eating Our Words: Explain a little bit in your own words what The Wine Conference is.

Geri Druckman: The Wine Conference is a gathering of food and wine enthusiasts. It's an opportunity to bring together top wine experts, top chefs, great wines and the people who love them. We'll all learn something, and have a great time doing it! Best of all, it is an intimate setting, so we hope this will allow people to get to know each other and the experts.

Photo by Sarah Rufka

​The confusing maze of the new CityCentre development on the Westside leaves one totally unprepared for Hotel Sorella's beautiful, modern Monnalisa bar. But if you ask bartender Curtis Weeks, the bar might be just a bit too beautiful.

"A lot of this stuff is art-driven and not functionality-driven. We had really pretty glass doors on here behind the bar, but they aren't here anymore because someone had them open and was bending down, and I walked by and, bam! I hit my head on one, and I cracked the glass. And the funny thing was, the girl who left it open had just said that it was a hazard. I don't know if the designers had designed a bar before, but I'm pretty sure they had never bartended," Weeks says. "But at night we open the doors to the pool, get the fire going, it's a very cool vibe. It's a pretty place to be. It's not a typical Houston neighborhood bar."

Hey, Esquire, stick to covering topics like this and we'll all be happy.

​The venerated Esquire has released its list of the Best Bars in America, compiled after what we imagine was some serious and excessive binge-drinking that had either mind-erasing or mind-altering effects on the editors, because guess what: Not a single Houston bar made the list.

The list dutifully covers all 50 states -- and even made it to Puerto Rico (one pities the poor person who had to travel there and to Hawaii) -- but when it comes to Texas, the wheels just fall right off.

It's insulting enough for our neighbors to the north that the Dallas/Ft. Worth metropolitan area only produced two bars that passed muster -- coming in far, far, far behind such gems as Birmingham and Des Moines -- or that San Antonio only got one bar on the list, but the entire state seems to have been ignored except for that mecca of modsters, Austin. With five bars on the list, Austin appears to be the only city in Texas that has any bars at all. At least any that Esquire was able to locate.

Houston, sadly, doesn't merit a single appearance on the list. Cities that have at least two bars, however, include Indianapolis, Lawrence (yes, in Kansas, with three bars), Portland, Tacoma, Madison (we think that's somewhere in Wisconsin) and Little Rock. Thriving metropolii, all of them.

Photo by Katharine Shilcutt

The rare creature herself, captured in the wild

​To paraphrase Wayne Campbell, Saint Arnold's Divine Reserve No. 8 is "a fox. In France, she'd be called la renard. Hunted, with only her cunning to protect her." And hunted she truly is.

The extremely limited-production beer (only 1,500 cases were made) was released to the public in Houston yesterday morning and became the object of many a beer nerd's frenzy throughout the day. Fans rabidly scavenged through stores searching for the elusive six-packs and sent one another Twitter updates and emails with tips on acquiring the brew.

Saint Arnold, the local microbrewery, has been brewing batches of its famous Divine Reserve since 2005. The first Divine Reserve brew was a barleywine that flew off the shelves; at only 327 cases, the production was a fifth of what it is now. Since then, tradition has the brewery creating at least one Divine Reserve a year and nearly the entire city of Houston lusting after the small batches and hoarding them like gold bars.

This year was no different. From the long line snaking around Spec's on Smith Street (which sold out of the beer in 21 minutes, by some accounts) yesterday morning to the scavenger hunt-style Tweets throughout the day ("Dear Internet, please stop telling everyone where the last few six packs of @SaintArnold Divine are. Thanks."), beer lovers everywhere have been on the lookout for that one bright purple six-pack to bring home triumphantly like the head of a ten-point buck.

Luckily, the Houston Press has connections and was able to score a bottle of the Divine Reserve No. 8 to split amongst the thirsty denizens of our newsroom (no, they were not happy about splitting one bottle, as you might imagine, but them's the breaks). Our impressions of the batch are below the jump.

​Houston isn't my hometown, but I've lived here for 10 years now. And yet, horror of horrors, until recently I'd never been to Lola's Depot (2327 Grant St., 713-528-8342). Hey, jerks! I can see you all shaking your heads. Gimme a break. It's not like the place is real easy to find or anything. There's not even a sign. But I will concede that its subtlety is its charm. According to the clock above the cash register, Lola's is the Home of Reality. It's also the home of all-day happy hour, including $1.75 Lone Stars, on Tuesdays. The world needs more of this kind of reality.

Lola's opened in '82, and it has been home to bartenders Kenny, Danny and Jaime for a combined 50 years. Like any great dive bar, it's home to exposed duct-work, black walls, some scary-ass artwork and a stuffed baboon. It's home to Kenny's "travel wall" - a repository for postcards sent "home" to Lola's from all over the world, even some place called "Alaska." I asked Jaime to mix a shot for me, and we took a Georgia Peach together. Then I remembered I had some veerrryy important bidness in the A.M., so I had one more Lone Star and headed to my humble abode, home of your mild-mannered drinks reporter....until now. That's right: Someone else will be taking over this column. So until next time, W.H., out.

2 ounces Crown Royal whiskey
1 ounce peach schnapps liqueur
Splash of pineapple juice

Shake with ice and strain into a shot glass. Lola's is "cash only," and "some wines may contain sulfites."

Photo by Troy Fields

​Saturday was one of those drinking marathons that cause me to wake up the next day and ask myself questions like, "How old am I, again?," "Why is my wallet in the toilet?" and "How did I break my pants?" Anything worth doing is worth doing to irresponsible excess, right? My booze-fueled Bataan death march began with vodka and OJ at breakfast, beers over lunch and more cocktails in the afternoon. Then it got dark and everything got fuzzy. I have only mental postcards from anything after, oh, about 8:30 p.m. I lay most of the blame for my "rolling brownouts" on Björn, the bartender on duty at The Davenport (2117 Richmond, 713-520-1140) this particular afternoon. Through dogged effort and some mad-scientist experimentation, he came up with the Pistolera — a sour, spicy flavor riot that left a nice burn well after my last sip. After a few of those, my head was practically on fire. Better my head than my pants, I guess.

2 ounces Cruzan Pineapple Rum

1 ounce pineapple schnapps liqueur

1 ounce pineapple juice

½ lime wedge

Sliced fresh jalapeño pepper

Combine rum, schnapps and juice in a shaker with ice; shake and strain into martini glass; squeeze lime and pepper into glass; garnish with jalapeño slices. When things get blurry, don't rub your eyes.

Photos by Katharine Shilcutt

Pimm's Cup, No. 68 on Anvil's 100 List

​Although only one page long, the list is daunting. Satan's Whiskers, Monkey Gland, Blood & Sand, Corpse Reviver #2, Death in the Afternoon, Widow's Kiss, El Diablo: one could almost mistake the cocktail names for santería ingredients. And the sheer breadth of the different cocktails is mesmerizing; some with egg, some with absinthe, some with champagne, some with rum. And each of them a classic cocktail, in the truest sense of the phrase.

This is Anvil's 100 List, a compilation of cocktails that everyone should try at least once in their lives. Bobby Heugel and Justin Burrows, the master mixologists behind Anvil Bar & Refuge, created the list as a means of educating their customers on the long, fascinating history of cocktails. The list itself is printed on a yellowed piece of legal-size paper, with this admonition at the top: "We at Anvil would be remiss in our duties if we did not mention that there are certain libations we feel you should try at least once in you life...for better or worse."

The list launches straight into the first cocktail -- an Absinthe Drip (just absinthe and water over sugar) -- and doesn't let up until the Zombie (which tastes better than it sounds, made with Jamaican rum, lime, lemon, pineapple, passion fruit syrup, brown sugar and angostura bitters). Along the way, you cross over 400 years of history from drinks like the Port Flip (No. 73) -- which dates back to at least 1887, although Flips themselves date to the 17th century -- and the Toddy (No. 92), which dates to the 18th century.

Photo by Sarah Rufka

​To watch Norman Daughtery make a martini is a beautiful thing. The head bartender at Bailey's American Grille in Seabrook, he pours his ingredients slowly and precisely before furiously going to town with the cocktail shaker, whipping the ingredients until the strong drinks have the thinnest layer of ice on top and the sweet drinks have a hint of foam. It's not hard to tell he's a martini drinker himself. "I have to make you a chocolate martini," he says. "I have a couple that come in all the time and order them, and they told me, 'Your chocolate martinis, they make you go home and get naked and jump in the pool!'" It's clearly a compliment.

Get him started, and Daughtery can't help but show off his favorite on- and off-menu creations, from a frothy white key lime martini to a sweet-but-not-too sweet-drink inspired by banana nut bread. "I just come up with a flavor I want to recreate, and then I experiment," says Daughtery. It's obviously working, because the key lime martini tastes just like the pie. Norman smiles. "Scary, isn't it?" The dangerous ingredient is the Firefly Sweet Tea vodka, a liquor so remarkable Daughtery insists we taste it. Filling a Collins glass with half tea vodka, half water and a slice of lemon, the result looks and tastes just like sweet tea. "That's actually 70 proof," says Daughtery, "I don't keep it in my house -- it's too easy to drink the whole glass before you even realize it."

Photo by Troy Fields

​Friday night is karaoke night at Christian's Tailgate (2000 Bagby, 713-527-0261), which can only mean one thing: drunken idiots. To stand up and belt it out in front of a room full of people, most of us need to be seriously soused. Spectators, in order to endure the aural assault, must also be sufficiently desensitized. In the other corner stands the bartender. In addition to being adept at tuning out the interminable racket, these paragons of patience must get very good at lubricating the singing and non-singing masses.

So consider Marcus at Christian's. Now here's a guy who obviously knows what's up. When I ask if he has any recommendations for quick pain relief, he quickly volunteers three different shots of varying potencies, including the Lunch Box. He doesn't complain when the shitfaced Neil Diamond wannabes order 13 Jaeger bombs and then massacre "Sweet Caroline." He just puts on his hard hat, punches the clock and goes to work like a true pro. Tip this man.

¼ pint beer

¼ pint orange juice

2 ounces Disaronno Amaretto liqueur

Fill pint glass with beer and OJ. Drop shot glass full of amaretto into pint glass. But why wait until lunch? Enjoy any time of day.

Photo by Sarah Rufka

​Seeing Reid McGraff at the Alden-Houston's a+ bar and grille -- an affable and friendly bartender, but with a certain polished bearing -- you'd never guess he'd ever tended a less elegant bar. Asked about his past positions, he mentions Hotel ZaZa, House of Blues, Warren's Inn and City Streets. Wait, what?

"You know where 610 and Richmond meet, right across the street from Best Buy? Back when I started about 20, 25 years ago there was a nightclub there called Cooter's, and then later when it closed down it reopened as City Streets," he says. City Streets, for anyone who did not attend a bachelorette party in the 1990s, was a club so large it had several themed mini-clubs inside. "I was over there for a long, long, time. One night I was there until six in the morning, with a long checkout, inventory, and then we had to practice the dance routines that we'd all do two to three times during the evening. Once they put all that into one shift, I was done."

Before we can get our minds around the choreographed dance routines, McGrath sets a perfectly pink watermelon margarita in front of us. A sip brings a veritable explosion of sweet, tart flavor. "The watermelon puree was made fresh today by Chef Hight," says McGrath. "He'll bring me all sorts of items. Just whatever he has that is seasonal, whatever inspires him. There's nothing like having those fresh ingredients."

Photo by Troy Fields

​Alissa, the lovely GM at Cava Bistro (301 Main, 713-223-4068) came up with the idea for the Southern Belle one lazy Sunday afternoon by the pool. See, she and her girlfriends were just chillaxin', catching some rays, and they needed a poolside thirst-quencher. So our hero combined two great Southern traditions: sweet tea and whiskey. Then she mixed in a little mint and honey she had lying around, and voilà — manna from heaven, Dixie style. So the girls whiled away the afternoon, drank plenty of Alissa's newfangled automatic summer refresher and then they all fired off their bikini tops, jumped in the water and had insane, GGW-style chicken fights, which eventually led to a marathon pillow fight back at their sorority house...or so I imagined anyway. Yes, I've been watching too much late-night TV. So what? I never let the truth stand in the way of a good story.

2 ounces Gentleman Jack

1 ounce iced tea

Fresh mint

Honey

Simple syrup

Muddle mint in shaker tin; add a few drops of honey and dash of syrup; add whiskey, tea and ice; shake and serve over crushed ice in a highball glass.

​The Central Market at 3815 Westheimer is hosting a "Meet and Greet With Mollydooker Winemaker" this Thursday, August 20, from 1:30-2:30 p.m. With a name like Mollydooker, how could you not go? And yes, of course, they're from Australia, which accounts for the name.

The person actually answering questions will be Sparky Marquis, owner and maker of the award-winning wines. 

Marquis will also sign bottles of his self-described "quirky outback wine." And his press release says he may "show you how to do the Mollydooker Shake!" As we understand it, they pump nitrogen gas into their bottles of wine to deliver fewer sulfites and the headaches that sometimes accompany them. Eating ... Our Words is fully in favor of such a strategy (if it works). The shake instructions demonstrate the proper strategy of unloading the wine from its bottle.

Anyhow, it looks like a fun time in the early afternoon Thursday. Take a late lunch and drop by. Call it a cultural exchange without the 22-hour airplane flight.