Bitch Behind the Bar

Calgary based bartender, cocktail enthusiast and burlesque performer extraordinaire

[bitchbehindthebar]

A final farewell

It is time for me to not only admit to the outside world, but also to myself, that I am no longer a bartender. The passion that drove me to learn and create has completely left me. I am left with an all to familiar feeling. Mostly indifference and almost guilty for feeling so indifferent. I am unsure whether or not I will return to the life that I loved so dearly as a bartender or if I will stick to what I am doing now,which is hopefully building a career. I am so incredibly unsure of everything but I am confident in my choice and in my gut feeling.

[bitchbehindthebar]

I'm very much sick of change at this point. Yet, I am positive that change is exactly what I need. Im not bartending anymore, at least for now. Maybe. I, not really dancing, my burlesque obligations I find, are boring me and I only ever dance because that's literally my job and what pays the bills. And let's be honest, I am not really writing. I've written tons of articles, but when I edit, something doesn't feel write and I delete the whole thing. I've been stuck in this hellish limbo for a month now. I keep telling myself it will get better once I do that final move then once we unpack, once we settle and get comfortable. It's hasn't happened yet. I'm not miserable and I'm not over all, happy. Of course I do have this amazing person in my life, but quite frankly I think I'm past the point of being completely happy just focusing on a relationship. I've grown to be selfish and learned I need more then just another person. Any other person will never be enough to fulfill me. Bartending. I have completely lost my desire to bartend. My last job, which will not be named. Was a joke. Again no names, no details, but the day I went in to quit, I was fired. My exact words were "oh thank god" that place killed it for me. Talk about soul sucking, will crushing bartending. Coming back from that place will be hard, I'm unsure if I want to. Dancing. Dancing is the other half of me. I dance three nights a week and it more then pays all my bills and funds my lifestyle. I am a burlesque performer, and after only a year of burlesque, I was placed in charge of my troupe. I am a ballet dancer. (Don't ever use the fucking term "ballerina") a very out of practice ballet dancer, but a dancer nonetheless.yet for some reason I cannot dance lately. Besides work, where it's basically just twerking for five hours, I have no inspiration. My troupe and students have drained me. I can't tolerate trying to manage a bunch of bitchy dancers anymore. And honestly I love those girls but we are ALL bitchy dancers in that fucking studio. Just want to go back to being happily and quietly managed by someone else. I think with burlesque and dancing in general, it is the one part of my life where I absolutely do not want to and absolutely cannot be in charge. I will be stepping down before December. Writing. I love writing. But everything I've written the last month has been a mirror of my extreme moodiness. And with me no longer bartending at least for now maybe. How relevant is bbtb? I could probably continue writing recipes, stories of when I go out, reviews. I could probably even write about my new job. I suppose who doesn't want to know the stories of a cocktail-chugging-dominatrix? Anyways, I'm sure once my mood improves, my writing will too. And once I decide quitting smoking was a bad idea for someone always on the edge of some sort of rage I'm sure I'll feel better. I'm on day three now and I can't even bear to be around myself.

[punacceptable]

my aesthetic is me: knowing my worth, not letting boys touch me, and buying myself expensive coffees

[bitchbehindthebar]

Thursday.

It’s seems as though I’ve been spending entirely too much time alone in various bars and coffee shops throughout mission and 17 th avenue, writing away the time. I have very much enjoyed it thus far. It’s been a few days since I’ve slept in my own bed, at night anyways, and again, I am completely content with that, waking up next to my man friend is much preferable then my lonely little bed. I began my day yesterday, in his bed, completely blissful and all those other cheesy emotions and feelings, after having coffee brought to me (that is precisely how to win me over) we got up and immediately parted ways, much to my momentary dismay. I began making my way off to the Starbucks, a very convenient half way point between our houses. I haunted that place and leeched off their wifi for maybe an hour, maybe two then began my monotonous “adult” errands, thanking all the gods that I had for some odd reason decided to wear flats the night before.

After a few hours at home I became restless, I had done some sewing for an upcoming show, showered, made a sizeable dent into my current book of choice. Knowing I had made loose plans with the man for the coming evening I returned to Starbucks. I stayed there for what felt like forever. I am already quite sick of that place. Which explains why I am currently spending my early afternoon breakfast at the rose and crown instead. So I went out and grabbed all the items I would need to make dinner for the man. Now I don’t really take pride in my cooking skills, they are quite basic and I prefer to eat out 100% of the time, but I figured it was a nice gesture. On the walk over to his house, groceries and wine in tow, stupidly wearing a brand new pair of stilettos for the very first time, I broke the bread, I’m not entirely sure how that happened but the poor thing was snapped in half dangling out of the bag like a flaccid dick. And then I dropped the wine.

I was literally half a block from his house and I dropped the fucking wine. I had been intending to do a white wine sauce, so it was especially devastating. I decided to drop off the groceries and head back down the street to the liquor store to grab another bottle, but I ended up not needing to as the man apparently had tons in the fridge already. How convenient. I am quite proud to say that I made dinner with very little disaster. I set the smoke alarm off maybe eight times but that’s was the most climactic thing that happened. I have been known to occasionally set things on fire, or explode baking dishes, even break ovens, and despite the fact that I was slightly nervous, I didn’t majorly fuck anything up! So we ate, it was good, not my best work but still good, and sat for a minute until I got the obnoxious idea into my head that we should go out for dessert. Now this is where the bratty side of my personality shines. I do not like sweets. It is very rare for me to decide on dessert, and also to find one on a menu that I will even consider. Only two places came to mind, the pot de creme at Una and buon Giournos Tiramisu. There was a twenty minute wait at Una so we set out, down the street to buon Giournos. I think we ate the damn thing in less then a minute. It took me a little longer to finish my glass of cava, which sparked the desire for more drinks, so naturally I decided on dirty PBR’s at the ship. I believe I said this last night but I believe it is worth re-iterating, if at any point in my life I decide that I have become too good to have a fifteen of PBR in my fridge, that is when I know I have failed myself. After two beers and a shot of wild turkey, we called it quits and dragged ourselves home, where I am almost certain, we had more drinks, and where I somehow miraculously realized I was drunk. That kind of self awareness while that intoxicated is a rare and incredibly beautiful thing. After realizing that I then thought that I should probably go the fuck to sleep in hopes of avoiding making an ass of myself, again, probably. So that is where the story ends. I woke up, completely pleased with myself and with the face I got to open my eyes to. We parted ways, and I’m off to get myself ready for work. Friday’s are my Monday’s and I am incredibly excited to get back to work tonight. Maybe I’ll even have some stories in the morning.

[bitchbehindthebar]

Milk Tiger and Anju

How cliche is it that I am sitting in a Starbucks with a peppermint tea, completely leeching the wifi? Within the last few days I put my big girls panties on and finally moved, and as a result, have forfeited my beautiful at home wifi connection. Absolutely tragic but completely necessary. While my evenings lately have been nothing but a fabulous swirl of cocktail bars and restaurants, I very stupidly have not taken the time to write. I blame it on the move, but if I am being completely honest, I needed some space, I needed to have a great time and not worry about taking mental notes and photos, but alas, my insatiable urge to write has been scratching at my conscious. It's time to get back on the grind. So we will start with last night. It started quite late as I had to go all the way down south at nine pm for a quick stop into my place of work. I was able to drag along my roommate, friend, and co-worker with me for the long ride down and was kept entertained by some truly obscene jokes. After a quick text to the man, we started in the journey to Milk Tiger to meet with him and some friends. One thing I adore about Milk Tiger is how intimate it is. That paired with the DJ blasting an odd but completely perfect playlist, puts it very high up on the "places I like to go" list. I should truly come up with a better name for that list. Anyways, after telling the man to pick me out a drink as I never pick out my own drink when I'm with him, he pointed me in the direction of a cocktail with the moniker "Toronto" and it of course was beautiful. I couldn't tell you what's in it right now as I was so preoccupied with my gorgeous companion, the ability to peel my eyes off him and in my phone for even a minute was completely lost on me. My friend, Payton, had decided on ordering a cosmopolitan, which I teased her mercilessly for, until I was assured that it would be the best Cosmo of her life. I should have tasted it. From there, I ordered a glass of white wine, which I am not entirely sure what it was but it was what my lovely companion was drinking so, good enough. And it was, although it was not nearly as sweet as I like my whites, I tend to favour Riesling's and Gewurtztraminer's and what I had ordered must have been a Chardonnay, it's hard to say though, unlike my liquor and beer knowledge my wine smarts are next to nothing. Eventually, the gorgeous Payton departed, leaving me alone with my man, his friends had left shortly before as well. I decided I was quite hungry and after absolutely no debate it was decided that we would go to Anju. If I am to be completely honest, I have never been, and had no real urge to go as I hadn't heard much about the place. I do now, have regrets over this. I saw the word taco and jumped at it, yes I too have jumped on the taco band wagon. For something that had been smothered in an avocado mousse, it did not make me want to gag, I actually enjoyed them quite a bit. And the rice sticks. Not even remotely close to the texture I was expecting, but the sauce. I will dream about that sauce. Cocktail- wise I ordered the "Romans revenge" which was made with Buffalo trace bourbon, tonic, blackberry raspberry shrub and something else I am forgetting completely. It wasn't terrible. It was quite good, just missing something. Something I cannot for the life of me put my finger on and it is still driving me completely mental. I most likely will have to go back within the next few days and order it innumerable times until I can't put my obnoxious little tick at ease. Overall I enjoyed Anju, something about having a dark colour scheme makes me feel very comfortable and cheery, and I loved the fact that because we went after midnight it was quiet, only a couple other tables scattered around. Unfortunately that is where the story ends, we got back to the mans apartment and I immediately fell asleep. An anti-climatic end to what was a fantastic evening.

[bitchbehindthebar]

<p>I have officially had to much. Too much. Please help me, this hangover will last a lifetime. It all started on Monday, what better day to get shitfaced with your friends then a Monday. It was supposed to be a few calm cocktails with the ladies, we were supposed to sail through the evening with all the grace and elegance of some sort of black and white film actress, waltzing about in a ball gown, drink in hand, flawless. Instead, well I won’t go into details. We started off at cannibale, I have been dying to visit, I have absolutely no recollection of what I drank other then it was delicious. We all had maybe two and left for proof, yes I see a pattern there too, but that one guy there is quite dreamy.</p> <p>So we spent a huge chunk of the night at proof, what was supposed to be a one drink stop on the way home ended in that times three or four. I want to formally apologize to all the patrons and staff for the gaggle of wasted ladies, causing a ruckus. We had good intentions I swear. I do remember what I drank there’s however, it’s always the same thing, a millionaire to start and as many French 75’s as I can manage. From here on things get fuzzy. We stomped our way down to the ship and anchor, in my opinion, the night isn’t over until you have at least one PBR at the ship. I immediately clashed with the door man, and didn’t stay long. I went back to proof, ( I’m a sucker for that one) and then immediately home, which also didn’t last, I left and had an obscenely good time and went to bed. </p> <p>At this point in time, I have come to realize I am writing very “shittily” I am putting down the iPad and I will try again tomorrow.

[bitchbehindthebar]

A whole lot of everything.

So within the past two weeks I have gone out to eat a lot. A fucking lot. Nearly every time has been a huge disappointment. It's gotten so ridiculous that I miss the days when my food came out right the first time. What I think frustrates me the most, is I am industry, I understand that sometimes as a server things get forgotten in the rush and the fact that it's incredibly easy to get fist fucked into the weeds, unfortunately this was not the case during any of my excursions (Monday night excluded) I could rant on and on for hours but to be honest, I would rather grab another cup of coffee and continue on with today's article. On Monday, me and a co-worker/ new student recruit for my class decided to have a girls day, mimosas, pedicures, food and drinks, I had a blast. I also accidentally got loaded which has inspired me to put a three drink limit on myself for a while until my alcohol tolerance either goes back to normal or finds a new normal. Anyways between Red's diner, Local 510, Proof (yes again) native tongues and broken city, I was completely destroyed the next day. I did nothing on Tuesday. I watched all the Mathew McConna-? Romcom's on Netflix for no real reason then they just played themselves, one after the other. Later in the night I decided on a nice glass of red and some soup. One thing I should mention is, I am a soup God. It is my favourite meal to not only eat but to cook. I ended up with a thick spinach and chicken broth with roasted tomatoes and asparagus, barbecued chicken and pea soup. Thankfully I made enough to last an entire week because that was delicious as all hell. I think it's apparent to everyone reading that I am terrible at writing conclusions, all I really want to do at this point is grab more coffee and maybe some soup. Bye.

[bitchbehindthebar]

If you ever decide to open up to someone about things you're passionate about and they start checking their phone halfway through, get rid of them. Even if you're married to that idiot.

[bitchbehindthebar]

Fire in the bayou This cocktail was created out of frustration. I have not been able to hit up any cocktail bars as of late which alone is irritating, no drinking or writing. So while out hunting for a very specific gold fish earlier today ( I've desperately been wanting a pet fish) I had an odd emotional bonding experience with a ferret and due to the fact that I already am a fur mother to so many babies I am unable to bring in anymore. So fresh off the emotional trauma I brought on to myself I decided to funnel that negative energy into creating another cocktail. I roamed up and down the aisles of the grocery store with the hopes of creating a bourbon based drink. I eventually settled on a concoction of chilli and honey. Here is the final recipe, 2 oz bourbon (I used Bulleit) 1.5 oz of honey Tsp of chilli powder Shake over ice Top with pellegrino The result was a spicy, sweet drink. The depth and layers of flavour are absolutely beautiful, I am currently sipping on number three. While I am still heart broken over the guilt of not bringing home the ferret, who I named thimbles, home, the sting is numbed by this gorgeous drink.

[bitchbehindthebar]

Be prepared for what is probably going to end up being a long winded bar hopping story. Last Wednesday, me and one of my former students turned fully fledged burlesque provocateur, Sadie Shaolin, decided to treat ourselves and hit up Rodney's lobster boil. We didn't stay too long, after realizing eating a whole lobster was way more stressful then I had remembered, and having downed a glass of cava, a beer, some vodka oyster shots and a couple cava soaked oysters we left with the Bourbon Room in mind. Unfortunately after getting word they were closed from my cousin, who is one of their gorgeously talented bartenders we decided to make our way to Proof. Making our way down, slightly tipsy in our always fabulous shoes, we managed to walk the three blocks and arrived in one piece. To my absolute delight, I saw a familiar face behind the bar and settled my ass in along the wood. Our first drink was the millionaire. After taking one sip each of our beloved cocktails, they were taken back for not being the right colour. (This amused me to no end, probably because I had had a few) finishing off the second batch in record time, we then were handed a glass of bubbles for moving down a seat to make room for more people (should have stopped there) we then ordered one of my all time favourites, the French 75 which is the beautiful cocktail in the photo. I am positive I made an ass of myself after these drinks. Thank god I still had enough wit to get my ass right the fuck out before I went full white girl and did something absurd. Our next plan of action was to walk to the liquor store which was at least six blocks away, buy a bottle of champagne and go back to my house for a drunken dance party. Now here's where it gets fuzzy. From what I can recall, I needed to use a restroom and decided the closest and best option was the Ship and Anchor. I can't imagine or remember why I thought this was brilliant as we ended up drinking PBR and doing tequila shots. I don't know how long we stayed, I do know that we did end up walking to the liquor store via a snapchat I had posted to my story, which I still think was a cinematic masterpiece, perfectly capturing the essence of exactly why I do not drink that much, ever. I can honestly say my recollection after this point is so foggy, it's completely useless to even try to write about it. What I can say is there is a good reason I do not drink like that. The hangover put me out of commission for an entire day. I am too much of a control freak to usually allow myself to become that intoxicated but I think that accidents happen, I started the night fully prepared for just dinner and a few drinks, but sometimes the night takes on a mind of its own and fucks you into submission. Moral of the story, I had an amazing time, so amazing that I think that did it for me for the next long while.

[officineottiche]

8000RPM

part 47: Front view

[bitchbehindthebar]

Kentucky jam I think every bartender has a soft spot for their first cocktail, you will create hundreds of them throughout your career and most you will forget, but never the first, kind of like sexual encounters. I created the Kentucky jam at my first bartending job at Workshop kitchen and culture, where they have what is called the improv menu, which changes every night and is beautifully put together by the insanely talented Chef Kenny K. Along with the improv menu people are given the option to purchase drink pairings along with each course of their meal. The night I had made this I was still a little unsure of my ability to pair well and my bar manager was to busy to walk me through it and baby me, so I was on my own. I was pairing a cocktail for a chocolate dessert, and I simply did not want to re-use our standard espresso cocktail, so I set about looking for ingredients. I ended up with 2 oz of bourbon with about five muddled raspberries, a large pinch of chai spice, 3/4 oz of black tea syrup, topped with soda and lightly stirred. I later developed a recipe for chai tea syrup, using a recipe for chai tea that my aunt had passed down to me, which she learned whilst living in India. I guard that recipe with my life, but I often make it and give away jars of it to my bartender friends. I adore this cocktail because it does have such a special place in my history, and it's delicious, I made it the other night with gin after realizing I was out of bourbon and it was still amazing, the gin took a backseat and played up all the flavours of the chai unlike bourbon which lets those flavours shine but also adds its own dimensions to it. All in all, I probably will never not have this recipe in my repertoire, and it's one that I think everyone should try at least once.

[bitchbehindthebar]

CILANTRO The Kentucky caravan I recently had yet another urge to go pamper myself, so I decided after some shopping to make cilantro my last stop for the evening. I have a long, beautiful history with this restaurant. Cilantro was my very first industry job, the place that started me on this lifelong fascination with restaurants. I started as a hostess with absolutely no idea the impact that this would have on my life. Ever since then, Cilantro has remained my ultimate favourite place to go and treat myself and to celebrate, I have no grand stories of my night there, it was a gorgeous quiet night, I ate, I drank and I left. I don't think I could have chosen a better cocktail to sip on that evening, made of bison grass vodka, lemon juice,simple syrup, lemon bitters and a whole egg, it was rich, smooth and beautifully flavoured. Another reason to go back to this little restaurant.

[bitchbehindthebar]

Rose Tom Collins During my latest dreaded adventure to the grocery store, I found myself wandering through the Indian food aisle, and I stumbled upon this gem, rose syrup! I've been dying to try out recipes and make some of my own but to actually find it in a grocery store blew my mind a little. I rushed through the rest of my shopping to get home and play with this. Once I got home I looked around my kitchen and discovered I had all the necessary ingredients for a Tom Collins, fresh lemons, soda and gin so I hastily got to work. I used the classic recipe subbing basic simple syrup for the rose, two ounces of gin, 3/4 syrup, the juice of half a lemon and topped with soda and the result was delicious. Tom Collins are typically one of my favourite summer time go to's and the addition of the rose syrup made it unimaginably better, this is something that will have to be on my grocery list from now on.

[bitchbehindthebar]

JASPER EDITION Jasper brewing co. Pink rose lemonade Two weeks ago I had the great pleasure of visiting the beautiful town of Jasper Alberta yet again. This was the fourth summer I have visited, fortunately I have become very familiar with the local eateries. Now while there is no fancy cocktail bar, there are places that offer cocktails, and that would just have to do. I wandered into the Jasper brewing company after searching the whole town over for a place that offers a good drink and maybe some breakfast. After half an hour I remembered this place and scrambled over, as my hunger was getting the best of me. The decor is definitely that of a brewery, basic and comfy, I settled into a high top near the bar. After an eternity of waiting for the server and many odd glares from the bar staff I started with a Caesar. It was shit. I'm not very fond of clamato from a gun, it's always so watered down. After finishing that weak little drink I found the pink rose lemonade. I genuinely love lemonade and with the ingredients list some what impressing me (gin, fresh lemon juice, simple syrup, rose water and cassis) I ordered one and my partner did as well, after tasting mine when it arrived. I am completely biased and will fall head over heels for any cocktail using rose anything. The first one that came out was perfect. Sweet, tart, beautifully layered flavours, I was tempted to order another, then my partners came out. It was noticeably darker then mine, I demanded to try a sip, it was also incredibly more sour. Some one had been a little too heavy handed with the cassis and lemon juice. There was absolutely no way I was risking having that brought to me so I finished my meal with water. Until Jasper has a decent cocktail bar I will most likely return here with hopes of interacting with friendlier staff next year. Maybe I'll just get a beer who knows.

[bitchbehindthebar]

Hudsons

Calgary

The Canadian iced tea

 Now you will almost never see me at hudsons. I only make the trip once a year, when my father in law makes the trip up to Calgary for the yearly family get together in Jasper. I always seem to arrive late, greeted by a various assortment of his local friends, all oil workers, who are some of the friendliest people I have met.

I tend to avoid hudsons based solely on the fact that I simply do not fit in there, they typically cater to, for lack of better terminology, basic bitches and fuck boys. Now before anyone starts getting their hot pink leopard print panties in a bunch let me just say, I simply don't care if the above statement has offended anyone. 

While there on my yearly visit, I noticed they were very lazily pushing a cocktail program. Something along the lines of Canadian summer as half the cocktails had the word “canadian” in it. I browsed the list and settled on a drink that I typically would avoid. So I ordered my drink, a Canadian iced tea. The ingredient list made me shudder, featuring blueberry vodka, pomegranate vodka, iced tea and peach puree. Flavored vodka is the worst thing to happen to white girls since vodka. Eventually my drink arrived, not taking too long, and it was sweet. No kick, just sweet. I am currently at a loss to even describe this noxious drink. Needless to say, I ordered a beer to hose down my taste buds then got the hell out of there.

[bitchbehindthebar]

Cava and Oysters
Rodney’s The other day I decided to go visit a friend while he was tending bar at Rodney’s oyster house. About two beers in I ended up being asked to take part in a quick photo session that another blog was operating. Of course being the show boat that I am, I immediately agreed.

After finishing up I went back to my seat at the bar and was greeted with a freshly shucked oyster topped with pares Balta cava. Now if you don’t know by now, I love cava. I’ve started buying it by the case for personal consumption. A bottle of friexenet for breakfast is my favourite indulgence, so needless to say, I was very pleased with this little surprise.

I am very new to eating oysters, this being only the second and third fresh oyster I’ve ever eaten. My first was also at Rodney’s where I was taught to shuck as well by the very same bartender. The cava paired beautifully, it wasn’t overly sweet, the tartness pairing with the brine better then I would’ve ever imagined, to the point of this being one of my favourite snacks. I am looking forward to going back to Rodney’s and having a few of these again.