Not all smiles und sunshine

Mackey's last post, coupled with a less than impressive trip to a local watering hole, has reminded me how fortunate I have been with the general quality of overall service I receive in this town. I'm not really even talking about places where I'm a regular, or even merely a familiar face for the most part. Just another thirsty hooligan in a new place, off the street like a common mendicant type stuff.

Some places around here fail because it was a bad idea, bad location, bad service, bad management...you name it. We as customers can bitch about a lot of things, and if you actually want the place to improve sometimes we need to speak with management right damn now. Constructive remarks delivered with a rational(and if you worked in the industry-sympathetic) tone can really help.

Recently, I've encountered two separate instances where service was both slow and apathetic. That's a rotten experience that will kill off a return customer pronto. I can overlook a lot of things like mechanical failures(shit happens) or being out of a beer/menu item. Hell, I even expect a small pour from time to time. You can talk with management without delivering a reprimand to the over-worked server or the short-handed kitchen. Many places that have a successful vision in place will welcome the chance to improve...if not, well then those joints aren't long for Knoxville in any case. Wade confidently into their midst and f'em.

Cash Only

A big peeve of mine at the bars these days is the bastard practice of pre-authorization of credit cards for a set sum in advance of the tab. Most banking institutions will count this as a pending charge on your account, and heaven only knows what rotten practice each individual credit card company will pursue. In short, long after you have left the bar you still feel like you haven't paid. Days after the final beer, last call, and the hangover you haven't yet finished the ordeal. I realize this practice is not new, nor is it illegal or unethical. You are after all, making a decision on where to drink and part of that process is the style of management said bar utilizes. However, just because a bar has a legal leg to stand on doesn't make it "cool."

It's not unusual for a bar to hold a card for the tab, I grant that. Even fine with it, although my regular bars would get crucified if they asked me for a card. The truth is that some places get ripped off on a frequent basis and creativity with opening and closing a tab can keep the place in the black and won't make the employees unhappy. We as patrons deserve some of the blame for running out on tabs, miserly tipping, drawing arrogant birds on the receipt, etc. However, if I give a card and then opt to pay cash when leaving-that should be the end of it. Instead I've got an uncomfortable hand in my wallet for a few days even after I should be in the clear. Two places that I visit on a semi-regular basis have this misguided policy.


What relevance does the photo have with the post? Absolutely none, but I've wanted to use it for some time and have zero idea how to work it in to a usual topic. Maybe some loose connection to the Governor of Colliefornia and their credit/cash woes? Whatever.

I thought about whether or not to post this...complaint is the term, since the offenders are two bars that we have reviewed positively. I'll not identify them since I really enjoy both establishments and realize I am coming off as a nitpicky bastard. Just airing a grievance in advance of Festivus. Looks like I'll be taking a Adam Jones-ish wad of cash* and make it rain after each beer.

*No more than 20 US dollars

Move the Hell away from the damn bar, shitheads

Christ, was I pissed off last Friday. I've struggled back and forth with the decision to call out the bar where this disgrace occurred. For now, I've opted against it since to smear the business would be somewhat unfair based upon the utter douchebaggery of their patrons...even if the establishment could do more to discourage the bastard practice of standing around a crowded bar after you've received your beverages.

Most decent people know that once you've gotten your drink, you need to allow the patron behind you to belly up to the bar. Unfortunately, with the utter pussification of this nation in the last two decades, someone hasn't been getting the memo...and worse, sentinels of good drinking habits haven't been taking the offenders to the side for a quick word or asswhipping.

No longer.

So I say to you, dipshit college aged turd that wouldn't move after ordering complicated drinks: Fuck you. This little spike-haired bastard further broke good conduct by sticking his arm through my group to fist bump another of his shitface friends. Poor fucking form. I pray to a just deity that your car was keyed and filled with the stench of catpiss and vomit.

I say to you, blondish whore with her whore friends that ordered mind erasers. First, bitch, when the bar is packed you either buy beer or two-part cocktails. Mind erasers? Are you fucking high? Then you and your little collection of STDs had the hard tits to slurp them through the goddamn straw right there. In a circle. In a crowd of thirsty people. You apparently didn't see baleful stares of the staff boring holes in the back of your peroxide hair.(your roots were black as night, harridan)...at least the one poor guy tagging along with your hellish drop had the decency to look around as if expecting to get smashed with a pint glass.

Awful, goddamn awful. I blame your upbringing. You all should take poison and get fucked.

You took too much, too much

Thank you Dr. Gonzo, I'll take it from here.

This is what is currently pissing me off: The proliferation of flavored Stolis at the bar...Hell, at ANY bar these days.

Okay Ivan, enough is enough. Since you red bastards are dead set on starting a new cold war(how did the last one work out for you destitute fucks?) let me send some words back your way across the Fulda Gap. I realize that vodka has long been your backwards nation's one contribution to this world but if I might invoke some symbolism from Catherine, this shit is more than we can chew. Or drink.

Yeah, Stoli was much cooler when I was younger...I mean my junior and senior years of high school were tepid encounters with Popov and Smirnoff right after first period. Occasionally we would find ourselves knocking back Absolut or Stoli on the lake during the latter months of the year, and Stoli was the counterculture choice to the relatively chic' Absolut during those halycon days. It was a clear choice for college...until that fateful day when I realized I could quaff bourbon and whiskey with impunity.

I admit, vodka related items slipped my mind. Oh sure, I remember the debut of Skyy...or the first time I saw Belvedere and Grey Goose on the shelves at 640...the claims of filtered Svedka being almost as good. I even have vague memories of when Absolut first introduced Peppar and the much despised Citron.

Now, it is all you can fucking do at a bar to see anything other than the ubiquitous Stoli family lined from one end to the other. Jesus, is there really this much need for slightly flavored esoteric vodka? Have we completely lost our ability to make a drink in the standard way?

I'd like to line these fucking things up against a wall.

C'mon...We're Better Than This!

Oh man, this is awful. If you don't want to start the weekend with a negative vibe you may not want to read this. On the other hand, if you want to avoid some shitty drinks I recommend you follow my advice and stay far, far away from these drinks. This week the Metro Pulse features an article on Knoxville bartenders and 7 cocktail recipes at their respective bars. I normally applaud any effort that sheds light on alcohol consumption and mixology, especially in our own back yard, but this article misses the mark, IMHO (link below with full article and pictures).

I've taken liberty and posted the recipes here, with my own interpretation of what went wrong. Let's see:

Baker Peters Jazz Club: Baker Peters Dark Chocolate Martini
1 oz. Van Gogh Double Dutch Chocolate Vodka
1 oz. Godiva Dark Chocolate liqueur
1/2 oz. Bailey’s Irish Creme
Reddi Wip real cream in the spray can
Pour the first two ingredients over ice, shake and strain into a martini glass. Carefully tip the Bailey’s down the side of the glass—it’s heavier and will automatically sink to the bottom for a layered look. Spray a “kiss” of Reddi Wip on the top.

This is possibly the most respectable drink of the group. Way too sweet for my taste, but the flavored martini has been going strong for well over a decade. Baker Peters is an established, upscale bar that serves its clientele fancy drinks at a high margin. That's all well and good, but I'll pass on the extra-sugary martini, thanks. Grade: C+

Macleods: DK Extra Red 7-Liquor Ass-Kicker
1/2 oz. vodka
1/2 oz. gin
1/2 oz. triple sec
1/2 oz. rum
1/2 oz. Southern Comfort
1/2 oz. peach schnapps
1/2 oz. tequila
Sweet and sour mix
Sprite
Grenadine
Fill a 16 oz. cup with ice, add liquors. Shoot some Sprite on top, almost to fill. Pour in grenadine for a three-count.

Okay, this one is a ripoff of the Long Island Ice Tea with some alterations. Switch the Coke for Sprite, add SoCo and peach schnapps, then the doosey - a 3 count of grenadine? WTF - that's some serious sugar. Why don't you just stay at home and mainline some Karo syrup? Macleods is a great bar that I consider an old favorite. The authors have frequented this place for many years, both downtown and now the strip. I'll stick with beer and whiskey. Grade: D+

Downtown Grill & Brewery: Joe's Brewtini Float
1 oz. Jaegermeister liqueur
3/4 oz. Baileys Irish Cream
Splash vanilla vodka
Two splashes Coke

Oh my. Jager - the name alone can make a person cringe. I've drank my fair share of this cordial, if you want to call it that, and thankfully those days are mostly behind me. Jager is one of those drinks that most people either love or hate, so it depends on what category you fall into to determine if you can stomach this drink or any other with Jager. Add in Bailey's, vanilla flavored vodka and Coke and you've got something. I don't know what, but something. Just give me the damn shot of Jager and let it be over. Grade: C-

La Rumba: La Rumba Colada
Whole fresh pineapple and pineapple corer
1 can Coco Lopez coconut cream
Pineapple juice, to taste
Pampero Rum, to taste
For garnish: cherry and paper umbrella
To make mix: Top and core pineapple, leaving the shell whole. Blend pulp (minus core) and coconut cream, thin with pineapple juice to taste. (Note: if you can’t obtain a corer, skip using the shell as a serving glass and slice the pineapple into fourths lengthwise, then use a paring knife to cut the pithy core from the pulp and the pulp from the shell.)
To mix drink: Measure about 5 ounces of ice into a 16-ounce cup, fill with mix and one shot of rum. Blend. Pour into pineapple shell. Serve with a straw; garnish with cherry and paper umbrella.

Geesh. I admit I've never been to La Rumba, and after seeing this cocktail I may never visit their establishment, not for drinks anyway. Where to begin? Okay, I don't have a prejudice against fruity, gay drinks per se, but let's not get carried away with the tropical / island / beach drinks in Knoxville. Once in a while is okay if you're on the lake or perhaps taking a sip of your date's beverage to show her that you have tastes other than straight whiskey or beer. The real problem I have with this concoction is the amount of alcohol, or lack thereof. The recipe first reads: Pampero Rum to taste, but later says one shot of rum. So you want me to core a whole pineapple, puree the damn thing, blend with a metric ton of coconut cream and pineapple juice, and all I get to add is 1 shot?! F that, I'll be going with the "to taste" portion, or more accurately, not at all. If I want a blended fruity drink I'll do like everybody else in East TN - go to the RED Lobster. Grade: F-

Sapphire: Dark and Stormy
3 lime wedges
1 oz. simple syrup
2 oz. Goslings Black Seal Rum
1 1/2 oz. Barrits Bermuda Stone Ginger Beer
In a rocks glass, muddle the lime and simple syrup. Fill with ice. Add rum, shake and top with ginger beer.

What now? Sapphire. Rum drink with ginger beer, lime and syrup. I think this is another ripoff modified to their taste. Hmmm. They pretty much suck in general so....Grade: F+

Irish Times: Irish Times Coffee
2 oz. Baileys Irish Cream
1 tsp. brown sugar
1 oz. Irish whiskey, such as Powers or Bushmills
Brewed coffee
Fresh, heavy cream
Fill a glass coffee mug 7/10 with strong brew coffee.
Add sugar, whiskey and Baileys.
Fill the rest of the cup with lightly shaken, heavy cream, pouring it over a spoon, so it floats on top and looks like a Guinness.
Stir once or twice and then let the coffee settle before serving.

Yet another variation of a classic cocktail. Originality is lacking, but I guess they make an effort to use an Irish Whiskey other than Jameson, so that counts for a little something. Right? No? Can't put anything past you guys. I mean, I prefer Bushmills too but try finding it at most bars around town and you're S.O.L., not to mention Powers. I guess adding the brown sugar is a twist, but not enough to garner any respect. Grade: D-

Wild Wing Cafe: JT's Name Your Own Flirtini
If someone—particularly a female someone—saunters up to the bar at Wild Wing Cafe and wants a drink recommendation, Jonathan “JT” Thomas knows just what to do. “I’ll ask for a color, do you want it sweet? Tropical? Then I throw something together and let her name it,” he says. “I’m a great lady drink maker.”

Thomas is as likely as not to start with a base of 1 ounce Bacardi Razz (flavored with fresh raspberries) and 1 ounce Bacardi O (orange flavor, not color). “I add to that maybe an ounce of peach schnapps, or any flavor that you want,” he says. “I just shake it—turn it over in my tin—and pour it on the rocks with maybe a splash of pineapple juice, some Sprite. Maybe grenadine or a little blue caracoa, which is flavored orange, or triple sec, to make it pretty.”

Last and certainly least is this one. So, JT, looks like you've got yourself a winner there. A "can't lose" recipe - no exact ingredients, no exact measurements, add some various fruits, syrup, colored cordials, shake, spin, pour, and panties drop. Way to insult your female patrons, sir. 'Here you go doll-face, its all pretty and pink for you, and you named it Princess' Pony Punch, how cute. Here's my number'.

Whatthefuckever. Ladies, is this what you want from your bartender? I'll have to check with Scarlett O'Harlot on this one. I've never been to Wild Wing Cafe and have been meaning to check it out for a while, but just haven't made it yet. Do they have a slutty barmaid to counter-balance douchery? We'll see. I wish I knew an alien alphabet that was somehow compatible with our language in order to measure the lowliness of this "flirtini". Moltar, where are you when I need you most? Grade: ZZ--

http://www.metropulse.com/news/2008/aug/20/hot-bar-home-bar/

An Open Letter-

to the wretched androgyne wading amongst us last night at the pub. Oh, is it a boy or a girl? How clever. How very 1990's Imperial Drag.

Look, you would repulse me enough based upon your mannish attire, worn in such a way to obscure any potential mammaroid sightings. Your walk is indicative of the chain-wallet crowd, and your fake tan is baffling given it is summer and you could obtain some shade via natural means. Most stunning at all is your choice of hairstyle, known to all as the Horn of Aggression. Get a load of these examples:
















Sweet merciful Jesus. Death take me quickly. You realize, sexless man-woman, that this particular abortion of style has unsophisticated roots long documented in cave drawings?
Get the message? No? I will elaborate further, you shame yourself and worse yet everyone around you as every bar patron is forced to contend with your personal choice. The beer tastes flatter, and no one knows which bathroom you are going to use. It's extremely poor form.

If being compared to a Cro-Magnon, Neatherthal, or Australopithecines doesn't motivate you to change, allow me to also point out you resemble the douchebags of Jersey or Long Island. I mean, we've all seen these cliched pics circulating around Al Gore's internet for years now, but since you didn't get the memo:


I weep for the future. Until nuclear artillery is an option, please stay the F out of my bar.

Bar Review

Kitty Kaga presents to you: The Half Barrel

Okay, this is already a weird one. The Half Barrel on Cumberland Avenue, aka The Strip, is the leftover detrius from Knoxville's abortive attempt at a Beer Sellar. I'm going to be perfectly honest, any new business on The Strip has it tough from my perspective. Gone are the days of The Lap, Library, Ivy's, The Roman Room, Varsity Inn, and Hawkeyes. Those places kicked serious ass for decades and what passes for bars down there these days reeks like pure gasoline.

We've had some mixed experiences at this place. Excellent beer selection, but a menu that has changed a bit. Ephemeral. Some exotic and out of the way items have given way to standard pub fare. Sure, that's okay, if you want to remain amongst the common nebulae of local bars. If you want to stand out though, make a name for yourself, you might want to go back to the beer brats and Thai chicken dishes folks.

The strength of this place is the long and spacious bar, and as I mentioned it has a great many beers on draft...at least a couple dozen at last count. Low-Down Brown, Stella Artois, Abita, along with the standard macrobrew trash, so you have some choices to make. I recommend looking at the menu when you get there to check for prices as there is quite a bit of range there. Being a college bar, they are not above specials, such as 22 oz Yeungling "Bombers" on certain weeknights, but for the most part you aren't coming away from here cheap.

Also a pro is the varied liquor selection. You can get all the various bourbons you would expect at a high end joint...single barrel Jack, Beam Black, Special Reserve Crown, Blantons to name a few. Even though yours truly is not a Scotch drinker, you can find a wide variety up top as well.

The physical allure of most bars is somewhat missing here. At the time of our last visit, the pool table was gone and the back room is now just a hallway to the pissoirs.

All in all, this is a decent enough place for a gameday or a casual night out...but not for one's primary joint. My 2 cents.

Bar Peeve 1.0

Kids in the damn bar.

Okay, first let me say that I have never had a saintly tongue. Nor does anyone associated with this online tub of shiesse (just to be clear though Mackey and King Randal are far worse with their profanity) for that matter. It is said that profanity is the inevitable linguistic crutch of the inarticulate motherfucker. Then again, PJ O'Rourke counters with the assertion that profanity enlivens otherwise bland opinions.

We tend to congregate with the latter school of thought.

Having said all this, allow his Lordship the time to rail on his number one bar pisser-offer: Children in the damn bar. Look, we all know that responsible parents can toss back a few(many) and that they still can be good parents. For what it is worth, procreation is recognized as essential by the collective authors here. However, those of us lucky enough or unlucky enough not to have kids(depending on what fucking school you come from) will tell you that the barfly lifestyle is conducive and compatible most with not having the little shits around.

When I am knee deep in blood and whiskey, the last thing I am thinking about when I rant on for hours is the little bastard running around the foosball table after nine bells. Get his or her ass out of there if you don't want him or her hearing about: pussy, cock, bitch, whore, bastard, fuckface, fucker, fucking fucker, whore/prick of doom, asshole, prick of the year, and countless references to what is known to the hip kids on Al Gores internet as "butt secks"

Seriously, do you expect me to tone down my hatred/rage/joy/mirth by keeping a firing solution on your hellish drop all night? Get fucking real. Take them home before DCS gets a slurred phone call from the bar. One more thing, the little rat bastard needs some exercise.