I see you too ... the London Dry Gin reimagined as a Spaniard

A crisis of identity? 

I happily drowned in a sea of gin tonics during my time in Spain. Budgeting for a healthy stock of gins and tonic waters meant meals were often reduced to eggs, lettuce, and rice, but we have to make sacrifices for what we love, don't we. And thus went my education - or rather, obsession - with the gin tonic. This one, Gin Sea, a London Dry Gin-styled gin distilled in Galicia, Spain by a well-known sommelier, Manuel Barrientos. Bright, fresh, with a slight herbal bitterness on the finish - makes a gin tonic that's incredibly clean, with enough complexity to keep things interesting. Garnish with a lime wheel and sprigs of fresh thyme.

What does it mean, for a drink to be from somewhere? Is it the provenance of the ingredients that decide its origin? The production method/traditions? In the end, what we don't give enough credit to is simply the tastes and preferences of the distiller - the creator, if you will. Alcohol, in particular, is not natural, despite what the marketers want you to believe. No, it's a product that is the result of human intervention and manipulation, to create a drink that fits a certain taste. Hopefully, we would want that taste to be good ... to be a representation of what the creator (distiller, winemaker, etc.) thinks is of high quality ... before we assign labels to it. The romantic old world notion of a drink's origin actually meaning anything is gone. Dead and gone, let's get that clear right now. We are now in the world of creators, who create drinks in their image first.

Of course, there are those who remain champions of the old ways, those peasants in Burgundy, the country gentlemen (and women) of the Moselle ... but what a minority. What a dying breed of heroes. Few now are cut from that cloth, and you know what? Consumers have a responsibility in this masse rejection of tradition in favour of 'commercial' products. Products with mainstream appeal. Dead, soulless, meaningless drinks that tease you with promises of profundity, but eventually reveal themselves to be cheap distractions. And consumers eat that shit up. They want wines and spirits that are easy to drink - that horrible, horrible phrase born of the mass commercialization of alcohol beverages. And the traditionalists, the old-timers? They trudge on, supported by an increasingly smaller group of enthusiasts who may not have profound knowledge, but certainly possess great appreciation for the drink. How do we reverse all this?

I like Gin Sea a lot. I like this project a lot, and as I've said before, idealism counts for naught if what you're producing tastes like shit. And this gin is delicious. So maybe to answer this question of identity, that's really all we have to consider for now - that someone is doing something unique and of high quality.

The rest, well ... we'll leave discussions about what origin means to the marketers.

DF

Ferran's choice

How many more times are you going to talk about tonic water? We get the point, and besides, who cares about the gin & tonic, poster child for the (incredibly lame) Friday night clubbing crowd, content with mass-produced gin and soda gun tonic water. 

I won't stop. My enthusiasm for the Gin Tonic - no '&' - will never abate, not until these silly misconceptions about what it is and what it is not are shattered. But until that day comes, the message is worth repeating. Gin Tonics, like all grand cocktails, are an exercise in utter simplicity. But like all simple things, perfection comes from the quality of its ingredients, and the thoughtful, skilled manipulation of the barman that brings it all together.

Thought. That's a good word, and a good concept in bartending. At this point, I want to just talk about the people in the business I admire, instead of poor, and sometimes idiotic practices. I've been very fortunate to meet many bartenders in Barcelona who I consider to be aces - Dani and Bruno at Old-Fashioned, Davidé of Slow Drink Movement, Cristina who just left her old bar - not to mention Benoit of L'Anima del Vi, but that's for another time. These bartenders have talent, but more than that, they have thought. No, not some overwrought idea of a cocktail with garnishes stuck in every inch of the glass, ridiculous ingredients for the sake of novelty, the great black-eye to the industry *flair* bartending ... nein, if I want to see a juggling act, I know where to go for that, and it's not a bar. What I mean by thought is a careful consideration of what makes each drink special, and part of cocktail tradition ... the guest experience, why someone would order a Martini over a Manhattan, how each element of the cocktail interacts with the other. You notice I don't mention creativity. Such a bad word, creativity, used to cover all sorts of excess. There's room for it, obviously, but never at the expense of the aforementioned. If I order a Gin Tonic made with Gin Mare, I have certain expectations ... I want a drink that expresses the gin I have selected first, before seeing the specificities of the bartender who prepared it. You see what I mean? When you order lobster at a restaurant, do you want to taste a dish that reminds you nothing of lobster, but is somehow supposed to be unique because the chef is a *quote unquote* culinary visionary? No! You send that shit back, because what's the point if an ingredient stops tasting like itself?!

So what do my favourite bartenders do so well? First of all, no one calls themselves a mixologist. My goodness, I hate that word. As a Spanish friend told me we're very cosmopolitan in Spain ... we call them barmen. My boy Dani over at Old-Fashioned is a one-off. A throwback. Outside of IESE, one of my favourite people in Barcelona, because he understands one thing - bars, like restaurants, are about hospitality first, and keeping guests happy is a winning strategy, everytime. During my second year in Spain, I was missing good bourbon a lot, so whenever I'd step through the door, Dani would be pulling out the Yarai and sugar cubes for my Old-Fashioned de Maker's Mark. But his talent comes through in his Gin Tonics. You select a gin, or ask for his suggestion, based on a scale of dry versus citric gins. They use 1724 Tonic Water at Old-Fashioned, lending their Gin Tonics great freshness and expressing full gin aromas. The garnish - as I've said before - is where you see the barman's creativity at work. What I want to see is the selection of the appropriate garnishes that complement that character of each specific gin, and with a delicate hand. You can overload with a glassful of garnishes that looks impressive, but really is just that ... a show, and not a real cocktail. Dani selects two garnishes at most - a type of citrus peel, and usually a savoury garnish that complements that dominant notes of the gin. Of course, presentation and style is all there, but what impresses me the most is his confidence in presenting a simple-looking drink with full aromas and flavours. Putting thought into cocktail making.

After all that - we still haven't talked about Fever-Tree. A superior tonic water to all others, in my opinion. As mentioned several times before, the tonic water is the heart of the Gin Tonic, comprising nearly 2/3 of the entire drink - isn't it important then, that you use a sensible tonic water to hold up your expensive gin? Fever-Tree is a fairly young company founded by two Londoners - story here. I remember the first time I came across it, in a bar called Dry Martini Speakeasy. Fresh, vibrant,  and elegant, all those good descriptors. It has full quinine flavours, yet is done in a way that is so harmonious that it never obfuscates the character of the gin. Fantastic, and yes, it does have the seal of approval from the godfather of modernist cuisine. Unfortunately, hard to find easily outside of Europe, so for those of us stuck in Toronto, you can order here, from Mr. Case.

How many more times am I going to talk about Gin Tonics? As many times as it takes.

DF

crown to crown to crown tonics

Where does it all go?

But first, I want to draw your attention to those huge chunks of ice. Look at them. LOOK AT THEM!! In Spain, they're sold everywhere - gigantic, uniform, perfect cylinders of ice. You see what I'm saying about the Spaniards having superb cocktail culture? It's not just about a town having good bars. For a culture to form, there needs to be traditions, collective behaviours, habits ... an environment that allows top bartenders to succeed, with a clientele that is enthusiastic, and a trade that brings it all together. Si, and those ice-makers too.

Schweppes does this line of flavoured tonic waters that is an exercise in how much of an impact each ingredient of the gin tonic has. As we talked about earlier, the tonic water is the *heart* of the gin tonic, to borrow a sushi shokunin saying. We know who wears the crown in that relationship, so to speak. So naturally, to express each at its fullest, we use only one gin - Citadelle - and the same garnish - a lime wheel. But really, the ice, in my opinion, is an oft-forgotten element, that crucial piece that takes a good gin tonic to the sublime. Why? Well, what purpose does ice serve, in any cocktail? Two purposes, as a matter of fact - dilution and chilling. So why are large ice cubes crucial to a great cocktail? In a word, control. As in all things, the more factors you can control, the more of yourself you can put in. With large ice cubes, one can carefully monitor both dilution and temperature, and can better achieve that most elusive drink - the one that gets better as you drink.

Right. The tonic waters. Schweppes Premium Mixers, in 4 expressions. The Original Tonic - slightly sweet, letting some of the Citadelle's alcohol come through. As you drink though, with more dilution, becomes dryer, more powerful. Well extracted on the palate. Next, the Pimienta Rosa (pink pepper) - aromatic, very peppery, sort of a combination of the aroma of white pepper with the heat of black pepper. A slight note of curry powder as well. Great balance, although too sweet (take a note of personal preference). What you end up with is a really floral tonic water that in some ways obfuscates the gin. Third, the Azahar y Lavanda (lavender and orange blossom) - quite aromatic, but more subtle, bringing forth more of the herbal notes of the Citadelle. Slight bitterness on the palate, which I enjoy. Subtleness rules here. And the final, the Ginger y Cardamomo (ginger and cardamo) - very dry, distinctly floral. I love using cardamom as a garnish, but this tonic doesn't give you so much of those aromas as much as a slight curry power again, with a touch of sweetness on the finish. The alcohol of the Citadelle slips through again, breaking the balance a bit. Overall, for all 4 - great work on the texture, on the finesse of the carbonation, but just a touch too sweet, which obscures the gin, Citadelle being a more neutral example. I would, for instance, never use a Spanish gin such as Gin Mare, or Xoriguer here - far too much going on. You want love-making in your mouth, not a shouting match.

I miss long, quiet, hot summer nights in Barcelona. Last year around this time, I had just wrapped up the final draft of the business case I was authoring, Oliver Conti - A Dream with a Glow. I was getting ready to move to the town of Zaragoza, to begin my second project. So as I send out yet another application/CV/cover letter, I'm reminded of how great, how lucky I was to do an MBA, to study at IESE, and to have lived in Barcelona. The times we spent in class. With friends. With gin tonics in hand. 

Where did it all go?! 

DF

tonics should have their moment of glory too

We say, the sushi rice is the *heart* of the sushi.

So goes the wisdom. Perfection you see, as they say, is achieved not when you cannot add anymore, but rather when you cannot take anymore away. Gin tonics, like sushi, like all things which strive for that elusive perfection, is about simplicity, about minimalism, about a deep respect for the natural character of each ingredient. Forget about this trendiness in foodyism spreading like a virus - you don't create a drink or a dish, so much as discover the essence of what you're working with. Bear with me ... I'm in that mood this week

One year ago, I was in Pamplona with friends, taking in the festival of San Fermin. Good times. But that's neither here nor there. What's here is this situation I'm in - job hunting is like death by a thousand cuts. I'm ten times the man I was before leaving for Barcelona, and I'll be fucked before I go back to the sad sucker I was. Hell gon' freeze over. Let's keep things simple, no? Do things the right way, with patience, with humility.

The right gin with the right tonic with the right garnish. See how smooth I did that? The right tonic water has to be aromatic, bubbly, and dry. Yes, dry - a subtle sweetness is needed, of course, to balance out any roughness you may get from the gin. But it has to have that dryness, that extract on the palate that gives you a feeling of freshness. Schweppes has that, particularly these Premium Mixer bottles. A whisper of citrus, a balanced bitterness, all over a layer of dry extract that gives you everything you want in a tonic.

Simplicity, perfection - important in all elements of a cocktail. Supporting players need some love too.

DF

the bitter truth

So it's June 27th, I've been home for a few weeks now, and it's pouring rain outside.

Is this really summer here in Toronto? Is this it? Never thought I'd be complaining about June weather here, but damn, it blows. Hard. Yet another reason to wax poetic about the bright, sunny skies of Barcelona. Wind blowing softly on that run to the beach, visions of vermut and jamón waiting for me on the mind. Alas ... alas. Those days are no more, but, hey, life goals right? I can live very simply, but I do like to have a lot on my table.

Bitters! In gin tonics!! I'm a big, big fan of finding the right orange bitters to give a bit of lift and spice to a gin tonic. Turning an otherwise very good drink to a great one. Complex but with balance you see - always with balance. Too much and you completely destroy the drink - the bitterness overwhelms the palate. Too little, and well, what's the point then? Balance. The most difficult, yet the most key element in food and booze. This particular one I really like. Rich orange oils, a slight spiciness, and quite powerful - only a few dashes needed.

Job hunting has been rough. It's soul-sucking, really, to send application after application into cyberspace, like this dark, empty void where nothing ever returns. It's a truly humbling experience when you spend an hour crafting the most poetic fucking cover letter only to be sent an automated rejection in 30 minutes. You know how after grad school, you're supposed to know what you want to do? I mean ... that's why we went to get a masters right?! And the bitter truth of it all? We have these grandiose dreams of coming out with an MBA to be agents of change, of contributing to whatever company and industry we join, to doing something different. But a month out, it's getting harder to stay so hopeful.

Chin up. Always hustle. What a trip back to reality.

DF

France's gin game strong

Gin is the truth.

Two German classmates visited Toronto last week, on their Canadian leg of a big trip through the East Coast. Big vodka guys, one told me he liked vodka because 'it's the most honest drink there is'. I've been thinking about what he meant by that. Maybe just a random one-liner between (somewhat) drunk friends, but while we're on the topic of honesty ...

I've always loved gin, even before living in Spain. But man, that first real glass of gin tonic changes you. Even on a student budget, I drank oceans of gin tonics during my time in Barcelona, learning to see cocktails in an entirely different light. Spanish bartenders take a culinary approach to the cocktails, what North American hipster mixologists < BARF > call craft cocktailing - an excuse for them to completely sissify a good solid drink. They don't do that shit in Spain. No, the approach they take is always to respect the base spirit they use, in this case, gin. So you look at the character of the gin you're using to decide what tonic to marry it with, and what to garnish. And always, like any good chef, the star is the gin, not yourself. You can throw a half-dozen garnishes in the glass to appear impressive, but really, you have no clue - using flash and superfluousness to overcompensate for professional insecurities.

So of course, living there meant that I had access to the most amazing Spanish gins. But I want to talk about this one first, because I think Citadelle is an incredibly, almost criminally, underrated gin. Fresh, vibrant, floral with a touch of spice - but most impressive is that texture, a silkiness that hides the alcohol and leaves your mouth in full happiness. So when using a gin like this in a gin tonic, what approach do you take? You look at the elements of the gin that you want to emphasize - for me, it's the elements of freshness and texture. First thing to decide is what tonic to use. After all, the tonic makes up 2/3 of the drink. Fever-Tree Indian Tonic Water is my preferred choice. It has that freshness from the herbs that's fully integrated in the aromas - not too sweet - and just enough dry extract to give you a sensation of texture while still remaining elegant. Garnish of a lime wheel to play up Citadelle's floral notes and give some citric lift.

And we come back to trying to understand what makes a drink honest. At this point, all I want to say is - honesty comes from respecting the ingredients going into your drink, and being thoughtful in what you put together. What gin with what tonic with what garnish(es). And always, always, always ... leaving your ego out of it. The gin tonic ... the most honest drink there is.

Gin tonic de Citadelle

Citadelle Gin

Fever-Tree Indian Tonic Water

Lime wheel

Fill a gin tonic glass with large chunks of ice

Pour 3 ounces of Citadelle gin

Stir for 30 seconds to lower the temperature and texturize the gin

Pour the Fever-Tree into the glass slowly, over the back of the barspoon

Stir once to integrate, and garnish with a lime wheel

DF

the pride of Peru

So ... does one shake or blend?

It was really cool meeting the parents of some of my Spanish classmates. After months of cramped quarters living with roommates (men in their late 20's/early 30's - supposed adults - can still be dirty animals), it was nice to go into a real house, make drinks in a real kitchen. A lot of these parents, particularly the men, recall their trips to Peru in their youth fondly. And a lot of those memories revolve around the pisco sour.

Pisco is a brandy that's the subject of much contention as to its origin, particularly between the Peruvians and the Chileans. But there's really no need to fight. Both countries seem to have unique ways of serving it - the Chileans drink piscola (pisco and cola, duh), while they do it like this in Lima. Personally, I have my foot in both camps, with good friends on both sides not to mention a delightful young Chilean chica I met in Barcelona who, can I say, is just my kind of woman. Now, if I had to choose - had to - based purely on my personal, subjective preferences, as an outsider - I'll go with a pisco sour. This pisco sour.

The IESE pisco sour

Pisco
Fresh lime juice
Sugar syrup
Egg white
Angostura bitters

In a cocktail shaker, pour 2 ounces of pisco

Add 0.75 ounces of sugar syrup, 0.5 ounces of lime juice, and half an egg white

Dry shake until egg white emulsifies

Fill shaker with ice and hard shake for 45 seconds

Strain into a chilled glass, allowing the egg white to create a half inch layer of head

Finish with a few drops of Angostura bitters

I've been told (by my Peruvian teammate) that most households in Lima employ a blender, crushing the ice into essentially a boozy slushie. I don't like it. It's lazy and we can do better. This is a pisco sour done in the IESE way - staying true to its roots, with a touch of refinement.

It's now nearly 5pm. Pisc-o-clock.

DF

the Spanish gin tsunami

Top: Macaronesian White Gin

Middle: Ginbraltar Spanish Dry Gin

Bottom: Gin Mare

Does it really matter what these gins actually are? The specificities? Not really. They're all Spanish, sure. One's from the Canary Islands, one's made by a Spanish chef, the other is what they say the essence of the Mediterranean. Rosemary and all that. Vibrant, fresh, aromatic, and utterly exciting gins. My first real education in Spanish gin. 

I've been in a bit of a rut, writing wise. A huge one, actually. Don't know what to write, how to write. Scared to write the way I want, always thinking of oh, but what if this person sees it and judges me. Can't put down my unfiltered thoughts, can't really do my whole stream-of-consciousness bit, shit, can't even curse. What's it all about then, if I'm doing LCF scared? So let's just write, as bullshit as it all might be, and see where it goes, yeah?

My friend's getting married and I'm here in my room, door closed, watching "Chef" and pounding cans of Guinness 'Special Export'. Fuck. I'm so lucky ... SO motherfucking lucky to be here, to be in Spain, and to be doing what I love this summer. But it's so hard sometimes to be away from friends, especially in these moments when really, I need to be there. So I'm asking the boys to keep me updated via Whatsapp, and well, Waiwai I'm waiting for my shout-out at the reception. In my letter to them, I wrote a lot of things, but the main point, I suppose, was how precious this all was, how sacred. There's such a permanence to getting married, isn't there. A bit scary, at least for this wino. Not that I don't want it ... the tricky bit is to find the right partner. Because growing up is also about understanding yourself, understanding what you and aren't willing to up with. A woman who just fits so naturally in your life, who elevates everything about you ... a rare and precious thing indeed. #laurapreston823

Work has been exciting. Learned so many new things these past few weeks, this real perspective-gaining about wine, about the trade. Lots of romantic ideals shattered, but shit man, that's that real life creeping up on you. Two weeks left, and now's the time to start producing. Let's go get it. 

Oh yeah. The gins. Exceptional examples, all three. I've been asking everyone how this whole gin craze in Spain started, and no one has a single goddamn clue. It just began? Ok, let's just go with that. Whatever its origin, the gins from here, and the gin tonics ... and really, the whole cocktail culture ... out of this fucking world. Of the three, the Macaronesian has fabulous extract on the palate, real force. The Ginbraltar, great spice and citrus notes. And my favourite here, the Gin Mare - so aromatic, the fragrance from the herbs, particularly of rosemary and thyme. Versatile too, making a fantastic martini (garnish with a sprig of rosemary instead of olive), or my wild card, the gimlet. Elegance and great character.

DF

no rest out in the wild

Yeah. We like it like that. Frosty, with a drop of Angostura bitters on top. Outside of (of course) all the incredible Spanish and Catalan food (see what I did there) I've been learning about here, another new experience has been Peruvian food. Man. That stuff is good. Ceviche. Lomo saltado. Tacu tacu. And of course, the Pisco Sour. Apologies to Chile. Balanced, with great extract from the lime juice, spiciness from the pisco, texture from the egg white ... delicious.

So apparently there's a sizeable Peruvian population in Barcelona. And yes, I'm pretty determined to visit every single Peruvian restaurant in town. Good, honest, unfussy food.

DF

never too old for toys ...

... and never too old to be learning. Even if the learning seems a little frivolous. I might not ever be a (professional) bartender, and I think Bieber is the worst human alive, but hey man, never say never. All this talk about vino and shit, I think deep inside all I am is a frustrated cocktail slinger.

I am the last barman poet

I see America drinking the fabulous cocktails I make

Americans getting stinky on something I stir or shake

The sex on the beach, the schnapps made from peach

The velvet hammer, the Alabama slammer ... 

I make things with juice and froth

The pink squirrel, the three-toed sloth.

I make drinks so sweet and snazzy

The iced tea, the kamakazi 

The orgasm, tthe death spasm

The Singapore sling, the dingaling.

America you've just been devoted to every flavor I got

But if you want to got loaded, why don't you just order a shot?

- Brian Flanagan, Cocktail (1988)

Spain still makes my (big) head spin. And sometimes not in a good way. Or maybe it's just the Catalans, but man, it's hilarious the way they just assume the worst about you. It's never, let me find out why you're bank account is locked, let me help you figure out why your metro card malfunctioned. No. Them folks here ... it's an interrogation of you didn't make sure that I didn't validate shit properly even though technically that's entirely my responsibility and hey cabrone, I'm not replacing your metro card, you could have stolen it. Visca el Barça i visca Catalunya, right? But credit where credit is due. The cocktail culture here is off the charts. The Spaniards have a unique, incredibly distinct approach to cocktail making, and they really have a way with gin. Enough to cover their other blemishes? That may be a matter of opinion, but for this wino, it does make them a bit more bearable.

Garnish tongs. You see, they don't actually touch the garnishes with their hands, as is the custom in the  (what I consider to be) other 2 great cocktail cultures of the world, America and Japan. Everything is done with tongs, including expressing those beautiful oils from whatever citrus zest the cocktail calls for. And it's 10 times harder than Cristina (Slow Barcelona) made it look. But we keep practicing and playing.

Relax. I'm joking about a career in bartending ... for now. 

DF

half the gin tonic ...

... is the tonic water, no? You want a complement to the gin that's elegant, that has balance, that will not obscure in any way the character of the spirit. A completely new concept to me, that tonic water could be so ... good. Man, they know gin cocktails here. Fever-Tree, a premium tonic water, expensive but worth every penny. At once floral and perfumed, dancing on your palate with tiny bubbles. A beautiful complement to citrusy, fruit-dominant gins.

Two days of attending the IESE Doing Good Doing Well Conference on sustainability. You know, I actually referenced this thing in my application essays. Some interesting speakers, especially today. John Bird with the quote of the conference: I'm a young 68. Younger than you lot. You're just superficially young. I wake up every morning and say, how can I change the world? Do you?

DF

the unfussy gin tonic

I'm a fairly simple guy. I like simple things, the small things. Like an unfussy, well-made, simple gin tonic ... truly a great pleasure of life.

It's been a rough 2 weeks. Second term courses have been very, very difficult, every which way you look at it - material-wise, workload-wise, stress-wise. But it's all good. It's what we signed up for, no? I'm currently in the depths of midterms, having finished 2 today, with 2 more to go tomorrow. It's good, to be learning all this great new stuff, and we have to keep reminding ourselves that grades are not necessarily in line with actual learning. Cool. So we've got that settled.

One of the most honest cocktails, the gin tonic. No, I haven't been drinking. But one can dream. One more day to go.

The 'unfussy' gin tonic

Tanqueray Rangpur Gin

Fever-Tree Premium Indian Tonic Water

Orange and lemon slice

Chill your glass down with big chunks of ice

Slight squeeze of orange and lemon juice

3-4 ounces of gin, whatever your pleasure

A quick stir, and slowly add the tonic water

Drop in an orange and lemon slice, and gently stir once to combine it all together.

DF

Hay dos manchas ...

I've had some good drinks these past 2 weeks ...

... meeting some really cool guys ...

... and learning about some pretty cool new dishes (boquerones, pictured here) ...

... even finding a hot pot place here.

But what's satisfying ... what's been truly satisfying ...

... has been that home cooked surf and turf - the red meat, the sea snails, that beautiful carapace of crab back fat. All love, all love, all love. It's been a most extraordinary Christmas holidays thus far in Barcelona - the next 2 weeks are about to get a lot more interesting.

DF

nodding, nodding, nodding

Up for 34 hours now. I'm so disappointed with myself. This last paper for our Analysis of Business Problems class was tough, but I should have been better prepared. Wasted far too much time thinking and discussing instead of doing. Fatal mistake. Didn't sleep Sunday night, and of course, rushed as the sun was coming up. Forgot too many important points, didn't have a chance to double check, arguments completely in a disarray. I'm so disappointed with myself.

Today was a rough day in class. Tried to stay alert, keep the adrenalin going, but man, 8 hours of classes and then 2 hours of Spanish after that ... just about impossible. But I made it. And, prepared for tomorrow's cases as well, which is why I'm only going to bed now instead of 9pm.

A few weeks ago, on a Friday night, I was in the mood for bourbon. Bourbon cocktails. So I went to my favourite Barcelona bar, Slow Barcelona, for a quick drink before meeting up with classmates. A Manhattan. Classic, American, and idiot-proof. A fantastic cocktail if the ingredients are good. Unfortunately, I learned a quick lesson that although this country is a master class in gin, bourbon is so far off the radar it might as well not even be offered. Not a single bottle of Maker's Mark in sight. Made with lots of care, and correctly, but when you're not using good whiskey ... what's that saying about a gold encrusted turd still being a turd? A disappointment.

We can sugar coat things, we can present things beautifully, but substance - true substance - is what really matters. People can say that I have an advantage, in terms of my English language ability. But all the finest prose in the world can't make up for substance, if in the end you have nothing to say. And if we're committed so something, if we're engaged ... we should always have something to say.

DF

Better than what I was ... still a long way to go

What makes a good gin tonic? The gin? The tonic? After exploring a bit, and drinking around this city, I think I've gotten a better sense of what this drink is, or rather, what makes the Spanish gin tonic so unique. It's that balance of opposites - simplicity and complexity. A minimalist drink that does everything a grand cocktail should do ... refresh yet excite you intellectually. The way the gin expresses a savoury or floral or fruit character, and how the tonic amplifies those aromas/flavours. The way the choice of garnishes bring all those elements together, enhancing taste in a visual way. As close to a perfect cocktail as I can imagine, replacing even wine on my table the last few weeks.

So simple, but how do we make great gin tonics? It's an easy cocktail, as far as ingredients and measurements go. But to make ones that dazzle require something that can't quite be written in a recipe. It's that feeling I suppose, of what you want to express. For me, the best gin tonics I've come across as yet are those with Xoriguer or Nordes gin. That beautifully floral and fruit character, balanced with great texture. Really plays well with fresh lime, and a tonic with good bitterness and a touch of spice. Elegance, with a firm backbone. My approach (or one I'd like to learn) towards everything.

This weekend has been all about our final paper for Analyzing Business Problems class. A tough one, with what seems like infinite variables. But it all boils down to simplicity, doesn't it, with good precision and focus. Narrow down your arguments, back them up, and present it lucidly, with good logic. As our professor likes to say, easy-peasy-lemon-squeezey.

Two weeks until our first term is over. The MBA is difficult. Sleep is as elusive as they said it was. And I've done NOTHING outside of going to campus, even on weekends now. We're supposed to take time to reflect regularly on our progress, and we've tried to adopt that through team feedback sessions. I hope my team sees progress in me. I'm trying hard. Working really hard on cases, on preparation for class. For myself, of course, but also so I don't let them down. In a lot of ways, this is so unnatural to me. I'm definitely out of my comfort zone, to say the least. But after talking to a few of my professors, I've really put an effort into participating more in class, being more vocal. A major weakness, but I'm trying. Two weeks to go. Not taking good care of myself, but, well, two more weeks to go.

DF

The Nightjar

Life through a mighty martini. Gin, good portion of vermouth, garnished with a lemon zest. Elegant, pure, and so, so powerful. You know who you are when you drink a martini.

The Friday night in London, after all our company visits were done, I met up with an old friend. She's doing her Master's there, having left for Europe around the same time I did. I've known her since junior high - lots of water under the bridge. It was so good to finally see a familiar face, to catch up, to share and laugh about all the new things we've seen/heard/done. We were talking about how difficult it was for people to understand what we were feeling as we do our programs, how you have to be in it to understand the pressure, the anxiety, the horrifying uncertainty of it all. Well, at least we have each other. She took us to The Nightjar, a speakeasy style cocktail bar in Shoreditch. Long queue to get in, but it was all worth it once we sat down in what looked like a WWII bomb shelter. A live jazz band playing surprisingly pleasant music - how often do you enjoy these live bands in bars?! - dim lights, pretty waitresses, people speaking English. I had a great, great time, and although it ended up being quite an expensive night of drinks, it was by far one of the most enjoyable bar experiences I've ever had.

Last week was terrible. And not because of the schedule. For the first time, I felt truly upset and frustrated. Maybe I'm not working hard enough, maybe I'm just resigning (already?!) to the fact that I just don't understand the material. Whatever it is, I need to get out of it fast. A terribly unproductive Friday evening, and entire weekend, for that matter. And it's nearly 4am, I'm still up, and guess what, still haven't finished working on tomorrow's cases. If this was 2 years ago, the cursing would be like commas. I'm supposed to be a better person than I was 2 years ago. How come it doesn't feel like it. The self-loathing is off the charts tonight.

You know who you are when you drink a martini. That night, I was relaxed, confident, happy; tonight, not so much. Much work to be done.

DF

Slow Barcelona

Gabriel is a true artist. A Mombasa gin tonic, he muddles cinnamon sticks into the gin for a subtle fragrance and spice, finishing off with an orange zest to bring it to life. By far my favourite place in Barcelona ... yet.

DF

having a drink in Barcelona

I feel, what, dazed? Shell-shocked? Turned inside out? Today was a rough day in class. I knew the learning curve was going to be steep, I knew that not really having an aptitude for mathematics was going to catch up to me ... just didn't expect it to happen on the 4th day of school. They don't mess around here - this isn't undergrad anymore, clearly. A younger, more idiotic me would have just said to hell with it, let's get a drink. But we can't do that now, can we, despite how great this city is for that ...

... whether it's a quick glass of a local Catalonian white with seared Iberian ham and pork ...

... or a glass of a wonderfully simple, fresh, and vibrant rosé from Penedès ...

... this town is full of the pleasures of the vine. And of course, those generous (is that the right way to put it?) pours of gin ...

... to Chinese restaurants that serve animal feed, although TsingTao is always reliable ...

... to the sublime experiences in dark and quiet bars, where all parts of the drink share the stage and come together in a perfect harmony. A city that celebrates and exalts the pleasures of the glass and the table.

DF

je suis un peu fatigué

What does a man with no financial or personal obligations do, in a bid to change his life, in his late twenties? Move to Spain for two years, apparently. Without a single friend in Europe, without understanding a single word of Spanish, without having any clue as to what lies ahead. Not that there was no second-guessing ... far from it. But in the 21 days that I've been here, already experienced many things. Some that've surprised, some that haven't. 

I've been trying to get out as much as possible. See as many new things, meet as many new people as I can. And Barcelona's great for that. Locals have no qualms about partying well past midnight on a Tuesday. This is the period of street festivals - each neighbourhood has one. This particular one was in Sants. They set up a mini carnival, but what was most amazing to see was the long line of tables for the neighbourhood dinner.

These people are really, really, REALLY serious about their papier-mâché.

And what I'm beginning to enjoy the most about this city is the unexpected little touches of art in every random corner. Feeling exhausted after 8 hours of extensive Spanish classes (6 days a week for the last 2 weeks), but suddenly feeling brighter seeing this cheerful paper flower piece on a street corner.

And of course, seeing Gaudi everywhere you turn. But with all the parties and get-togethers, the drinks and the dinners, I'm feeling fatigued. Reminds me that I'm a textbook introvert. And how fantastic is it that the always inspirational Alfonso Cevola would just write about it (just substitute Italy for Spain). I like being social and meeting people, but I find it incredibly draining. I need alone time, some peace and quiet to recharge. And so last night, at yet another party, I threw in the towel. Nothing personal, nothing at all really - the lounge was becoming claustrophobic and I just needed some time to myself.

So I slipped out and went back to Slow Barcelona for a quiet cocktail. My happy place this is fast becoming. Great atmosphere, fantastic bartenders, wonderful cocktails. And so I stayed for a while, chatted with Gabriel who made my last two drinks, and recharged.

The gin tonic del dia was exceptional, that wonderful transition of flavours that I've never experienced in any other cocktail. Tanqueray No. 10, Aperol, pomelo juice, and Schweppes Premium Heritage. Impeccable balance, beautiful aromas, those lovely citrus notes. Happiness.

Gabriel made me a gimlet that blew my mind - no shaking, clear lime cordial, subtle and wonderfully viscous.

And I ended the night with what else but a martini. Love this place. How come no one sits at the bar anymore? Taking a seat and quietly watching exceptional cocktail making is an indescribable pleasure.

Having gotten home at a (relatively) reasonable hour, I woke up this morning wanting some brunch and a solid American-style latte. Found it.

And found the Chinese grocery store everyone's been talking about. A good day of grocery shopping. And a little touch of home. Maybe I am warming up to this place. Maybe I just need to remember that to be happy, I still have to remain true to myself, to who I am. I is what I is, right. I know I'm an MBA student now and it's all about networking (that fucking word again), but if I have to compromise who I am as a person, this isn't the place for me. I should at least have that freedom, right? Right?!

Some other places this introvert wants to visit in the next few days, including this city's best wine shops and finding those Zalto stems I been eyeing for years ...

DF

The Old-Fashioned

So this is it. Everything's packed, all set for the big move to Barcelona. I'm excited, nervous, frightened ... but also hopeful. Hopeful that this is the first step in elevating myself, in reaching my goals. Who knows. It will certainly be an adventure. So let's raise a glass together for one final drink - in Toronto at least - of something classic and timeless, the Old-Fashioned. Many thanks and much appreciation to my loved ones for all the support and encouragement in the past 20 or so months. And now the real work begins. 

The Old-Fashioned

One sugar cube (white or brown sugar)

Orange bitters - Fee Brother's West Indian Orange Bitters

Angostura bitters

Bourbon - Maker's Mark Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whisky

Orange and lemon zest

In a mixing glass, place a cube of sugar, and saturate with Angostura and orange bitters

Add a splash of water and muddle until the sugar is completely dissolved

Add 2 ounces of bourbon

Fill to the top with ice and stir quickly for 25-30 seconds

Pour into a tumbler with ice if you wish; garnish with a lemon and orange twist

DF