#but did he buy me a Negroni at the same time

[tennessoui]

in this airport trying my best to look like a guileless overwhelmed young woman traveling on her own for the first time so that middle aged men who are returning home from dropping off the daughters they just took to college for their first year will be compelled to look after me via buying me an espresso martini so I may survive this 10 hour layover

[antisocialmastermind]

The Collector

a klaine word scramble fic

Chapter 2

Day 2: H B U L S A F = Bashful, ablush, blush

Chapter 1 (on Ao3)

They drink too much.

Justin and Michael don’t make it, but Chandler and Sebastian do. Kurt slides into the bench seat and Sebastian drags a second tiny table into the corner. The air feels electric and joyous and Kurt can’t drag his eyes away from Elliott’s giddy, excited face. He’s really unfairly beautiful. Elliott volunteers to get the first round.

“No way,” Kurt says. “We’re celebrating you. I’m buying.” They all know that Sebastian will most likely end the night by intercepting the check anyway.

Elliott’s drinking bourbon, of course, while Kurt orders a Martini and Sebastian sips a Negroni. It’s Chandler who raises his bright green Midori Sour into the air with a “Cheers, bitches. Now what exactly are we celebrating?” 

Kurt chuckles when Elliott grins and launches into a little monologue, spilling out an idea that’s further developed than Kurt expected. He’s grinning like a maniac while Chandler’s mouth hangs open and Sebastian looks typically unimpressed.

“Oh, my gawd,” Chandler squawks, “Were you ever going to tell us?”

“I just did,” Elliott laughs.

Sebastian leans forward and actually puts on his glasses. Kurt snorts. Sebastian takes himself way too seriously. 

“Wait a second,” Sebastian interrupts, sounding every bit the Wall Street banker that he is, “tell me that you have an actual business plan and not just some hippie-dippy dream to make art.”

“Wow. Bitchy,” Chandler says, glancing at him across the small table.

“Remind me again why we like you,” Kurt mutters at the same time, but his gaze is teasing when he looks at Sebastian. 

“Not bitchy, just starkly realistic,” Sebastian snipes at Chandler before turning to Kurt. “And you like me because I bring the classy to this otherwise sad little congregation.” Elliott throws his head back and laughs. Kurt kind of wants to suck on his neck. He flags down the waitress instead.

Sebastian spends a few minutes grilling Elliott before he leans back in his seat, apparently satisfied. It turns out that Elliott’s dad’s attorney has already set up an LLC – Elliott has a business plan and a tax ID and insurance and permits. Sebastian’s glasses go back into his breast pocket. “Alright,” he allows, “you get the Smythe stamp of approval.”

Chandler and Kurt burst into laughter as Elliott raises an eyebrow and calls Sebastian a pompous ass. Sebastian just shrugs. “You love me.”

Elliott’s voice drops. “I do,” he says, and Kurt is struck by the softness in his blue eyes.

“So,” Chandler says after a second, “spill boys. Who besides me is gettin’ some on the regular?” Kurt shrieks “Since when?” a little too loudly and the couple at the other end of the long bench shoots them a look. Elliott’s giggling while Sebastian smirks smugly and suddenly they’re talking about boys and their jobs and celebrity crushes. (“Tom Cruise is not hot, Chandler. He’s old. And a fucking psycho.”) 

Conversation finally drifts back to Elliott’s plan. Kurt props his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands. Chandler’s listing to one side and Sebastian’s face is flushed. The night is winding slowly down.

Elliott talks about the space he’s found and the renovations he envisions. He has a list of artists he wants to work with to stage the opening, and he wants Kurt’s input and also his work, and Kurt’s heart stutters in his chest a little. He tries to make it mean nothing that Elliott so clearly wants him as a… business partner? But it could be something. It could.

Sebastian brings up a possible name and they brainstorm, fueled by alcohol and camaraderie. Chandler’s suggestions are ridiculous (Imagination Station?), while Sebastian’s are too safe (The Gilbert Gallery). Elliott thinks maybe he’ll just go with Art Space when Kurt says softly, “What about Muse?” Their eyes meet across the table and Kurt feels a spark ignite under his skin.

“Muse Gallery,” says Elliott, with a devilish, sloppy grin. “I love it.” And he gestures for another round.

So, yeah. They drink too much. 

Which is probably to blame for what happens after.

****

It’s late when they leave, Sebastian and Chandler sharing a cab while Kurt and Elliott link arms and head down the sidewalk toward their apartment. Kurt’s humming under his breath and Elliott skips a step to synchronize their footfalls as they walk. Kurt’s not sure how much happier he could possibly be.

“We’re doing this, right?” Elliott asks suddenly. Kurt studies his profile and smiles.  

“What exactly do you want me to do?” he says.

“Well, I want your work, Kurt. Obviously. I definitely want that blue and black eye–” Elliot doesn’t notice Kurt’s sharp inhale “–but I want your input on the renovation; you have such a great sense of that stuff. And you can help do front of house if you want and I want you to use the studio, too–”

“There’s a studio?” Kurt interrupts Elliott’s babble.

“You’ll see,” Elliott explains. “The space was a cafe, so I’m gonna keep part of the kitchen as a little studio. Imagine not having to walk down three flights just to clean brushes.”

“Imagine,” Kurt says softly. He wonders how Elliott hasn’t ever figured out that the eye – a textured fabric collage in blue, black and white – is his eye. That it’s the closest Kurt’s gotten to putting his feelings for Elliott into his work. Elliott’s definitely oblivious sometimes. He breezes through life in full steam ahead mode and glitters and shines and asks for forgiveness rather than permission. Kurt squeezes Elliott’s arm in his and smiles down at the sidewalk.

****

It takes Kurt two tries to get his key in the lock. He shakes his head at himself and squints a little and manages to get the apartment door open without further incident. He precedes Elliott into the dim living room but turns back when he hears him stumble, moving quickly to offer his arm. And Kurt’s breath gets stuck in his throat.

Elliott just glows in the doorway, backlit by the hallway light. There’s a syrupy golden aura clinging to his hair and cheekbones and shoulders as he looks into Kurt’s eyes and smiles at his own tipsy clumsiness.

Kurt’s just done. He’s been so bashful, so quietly flirty and besotted for so long. He takes a half step more and gently grasps Elliotts face in both hands, gazing up at him. But Elliott’s hands flutter up to hover near his shoulders, palms out toward Kurt, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. The momentum of the closing door pulls Elliott behind it and he takes a shaky step back.

“Whoa,” he says, and it’s unclear whether that’s for Kurt or for his second stumble in as many minutes, but it doesn’t really matter. Kurt’s face blushes hot and he pulls his own hands back as if he’s been burned.

“Oh god,” he murmurs at the floor, “I am so, so sorry–”

“Kurt,” Elliott says gently, “it’s fine. Really.”

Kurt dares to look up at him and oh shit, he’s not going to cry right now, he’s not. But Elliott’s so beautiful and Kurt just wants him and he’s probably ruined everything between them and oh my god he needs to find a new apartment, like, right now –

“Kurt, stop panicking,” Elliott murmurs. “You’re okay. It’s fine.”

Kurt just can’t keep looking at his face. He crosses and sinks into the sofa, dropping his face into his hands. “I’m so sorry,” he says again, “I’ve just. I’ve had the biggest crush on you for so long.”

And Elliott must be part cat because Kurt’s not aware of him moving, but he’s suddenly sitting next to him on the couch, gently grasping Kurt’s wrists to pull his hands away from his face.

“I know,” he says.

Kurt’s mouth drops open. “You know?” He looks at Elliott, ablush with temper and embarrassment and too many Martinis. He wants to say something biting and clever, but words elude him. He stares, moisture prickling at the corners of his eyes.

Elliott is still holding Kurt’s wrists, and he slides his grip so that they’re holding hands, looking at each other, side by side on the couch.

“Kurt,” he says tenderly, “you’re wonderful. I think you’re smart and talented and funny and amazing. I love you. I love you like an insane amount. But not that way. I’m sorry. I sort of wish I could. But you’re…you’re my best friend and my brother and you’ve been my muse and I just–” he sighs and shakes his head slightly.  “I just thought I’d keep my mouth shut and let you get over it. I’m sorry.”

Kurt’s heart is badly bruised, if not broken, and he’s so utterly mortified and he kind of wants to yell. Or cry. Or tell Elliott to take his friendship and shove it up his glorious fucking ass. But he doesn’t. He sighs, a little shaky, and says, “Thanks for putting up with me.”

Elliott smiles. “I don’t put up with you. I love you. And our friendship is so important to me. We’re gonna be fine.”

Kurt needs distance, privacy and sleep. And probably Advil. 

“We are,” he tells Elliott as he rises. “Thank you.” Opening the door to the safe haven that is his bedroom, he turns back. 

“Elliott?” He pauses. “I hope this doesn’t change anything.”

Elliott flumps back into the couch cushions with a tiny, warm chuckle. “I hope you’re kidding. Can’t have Muse Gallery without a muse, right? Go to bed.”

Kurt does.

Chapter 1 on Ao3 Chapter 3

[theseshipsshallsail]

There’s a new club in the Village - Infinity emblazoned in bright, neon letters - and naturally, the building is jam-packed with society’s outcasts on its opening weekend. Oliver grimaces, pressing his third beer to the side of his face, yet the condensation does nothing to soothe his overheated skin. It’s like a furnace of writhing bodies, and with every bead of sweat that bisects his neck to soak into his collar, he can’t help but wonder why he ever agreed to come in the first place.  

“Drink up,” Vanessa says, brandishing a bright amber concoction as she slides into the booth opposite him. “You look like you need something a little stronger.”  

Oliver raises an eyebrow as he returns the bottle to the table, then plucks the wedge of orange peel from the rim of the proffered glass. It’s been three years since he tasted a negroni, and the potent combination of gin, Campari, and vermouth sends his mind reeling in directions he usually fights tooth and nail to avoid. 

“Remind me again why you brought me here?” he asks, trying not to wince at the bitter aftertaste. “This isn’t exactly my scene.”

Vanessa scoffs. “Well, if you ever left your study...”

“I’m up for promotion!”

“You’ll be up for an ulcer if you don’t slow down. Besides, you deserve to let loose after... you know.”

You know, meaning his divorce, and the eighteen month shit-storm that preceded it.

Vanessa has the office next to his, and in between general grousing about University politics they’ve become close friends. It helps, of course, that she understands his situation all too well, and even though her parents never tried to strong-arm her to the altar, she and her girlfriend still have to hide their relationship from the rest of their colleagues.

Oliver sighs as he takes a second sip of his drink. “It’ll take more than a one night stand to loosen me up,” he tells her, and the filthy smirk that curls Vanessa’s lips has him tempted to bang his forehead against the table.

“Whatever tickles your pickle, Professor.”

“Why do I put up with you?”

“Hell if I know.” Slurring somewhat, she taps their cocktails together, and Oliver laughs as she leans forward, poking him in the chest. “Listen, Ollie, you and Micol did a spectacular job of making yourselves miserable, but at least you stayed faithful ‘til the end. Why not enjoy yourself, yeah?” 

“Why not indeed?” 

He’s aiming for sarcastic, yet his tone falls somewhere short of exhausted. She’s right, he realises, but Oliver hasn’t had much interest in men or women for a while. He’s not so deep in denial to admit his heart still belongs to another, and being hopelessly in love with someone he can’t have has done a real number on his libido.

“Damn! This place is heaving!” Simone says, slumping in her seat when she returns from the bathroom. Slinging an arm around Vanessa’s shoulder she drops a quick kiss to her cheek, and Oliver averts his eyes, the casual intimacy leaving him yearning for the impossible. “A few too many student-types for my liking, though. Makes me feel like I’m back in the theatre department.”

“Makes me feel like I’m pushing thirty,” Oliver mutters, painfully aware of the significantly younger crowd as he tugs at the cheap material of his shirt. Too many curries and not enough exercise has made him self-conscious of the few extra pounds at his waistline, and depressingly, twenty-eight feels ancient in comparison. 

“You wanna call it a night?” Vanessa asks, and Oliver nods absently as his gaze catches on a couple in the middle of the dancefloor. 

Caught in a world of their own, they make a striking picture. The taller of the pair is bleached-blond and athletic, his arms wrapped tightly around the slim waist of the man in front of him in a surprisingly protective gesture. Oliver can’t see his partner clearly from this angle, but his skin is pale and shimmering as they move to the beat, dark curls falling in a tousled mess. Whether it’s by artful design or sweat-damp from dancing, he can’t quite tell, yet Oliver is hypnotized by the way they bounce as he loses himself to the music, obscuring his vision until the other man reaches forward, gently brushing them away.  

The bass pounds in his rib cage, and Oliver’s throat feels constricted as he watches the brunette link his hands behind his lover's neck. Profile half in shadows, he raises up on tiptoes to whisper in the shell of his ear, and Oliver experiences a crisis of tenderness when he butts their temples together. Something squirms in his stomach. Something raw and envious. Memories flare, unfair and brutal, and he immediately blames the burning of his retinas on the relentless assault of the strobe lights surrounding them. 

“Oliver? You okay?”

No. 

Definitely not.

The jostling crowd causes the blond to alter their position, and Oliver’s head spins from more than just the alcohol as his blood runs cold in his veins. 

“Elio…” he murmurs, vaguely aware of Vanessa’s stifled gasp when she tries to get a better look.

“Your Elio?”

He wants it not to be - wants his eyes to be deceiving him - yet there’s no denying the truth. All that he’s forgotten - all that he’s clung to - coalesces in a rush of unslaked longing, and between one blink and the next, Oliver remembers everything. 

“Not anymore,” he whispers, but then, why would he be? 

Elio was seventeen when they first met, and Oliver isn’t naive enough to think he hasn’t fallen in and out of love many times since then. He’s beautiful, intelligent, talented beyond measure. Was he really so arrogant to imagine he would still be single? Pining for him, maybe? Saving himself? And for what? A six week romance one too-hot Italian summer? Something his cowardice cut short with a long-distance phone call?

He was, wasn’t he?

Arrogant. 

And so very stupid.

“Of all the gay bars in all the world…” Vanessa takes a swig of her piña colada as he continues to spiral. “I thought you said he lived in Italy?” 

“He did,” Oliver replies, picking at his thumbnail. “He moved here for school.”

“And you didn't contact him?”

“To say what?” His ears ring from the shrillness of her tone. “Hey, Elio. Remember that time I broke both our hearts ‘cause I’m a gutless schmuck? How about I buy you a coffee to make up for it?”

“It would’ve been a start.”

“It would’ve been selfish,” he says, tearing his eyes away. “He has enough on his plate with Juilliard. I’d only get in the  -”

“Juilliard?” Simone’s low whistle interrupts his self-reproach. “Impressive.”

“Son of a professor,” Oliver explains. “I always knew he was a genius.” He gathers himself with a quiet huff. “Though he’ll probably say he knows nothing.” The spark of nostalgia is crippling, and it takes everything he has not to break down on the spot. “I should go,” he says, draining the remains of his drink as he rises to his feet. 

“Oliver -”

“Why don’t you come back to ours?” Vanessa offers, making to follow, but whatever expression is on his face causes Simone to catch her by the wrist.

“We’re here if you need us, alright?”

“I know,” he says, eternally grateful for their support as he pushes some cab money into her hand. “Get home safe. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

“You’d better,” Vanessa tells him, obstinate in her concern, yet all he can focus on right now is leaving.

The swirling thoughts inside his head are all-consuming, but Oliver is determined to reign in his emotions for a little while longer. Ignoring the way his shoes stick to the tacky vinyl flooring, he grits his teeth as he snakes his way through the crush of humanity. He needs space. Fresh air. Hell, a damn time machine wouldn’t go amiss. He has nobody to blame but himself, and he’s halfway to the exit sign when his pace grinds to a halt, his masochistic streak unable to resist one last glimpse. 

A flash of irrational panic makes him breathe in deep - hold it for a count of three - and when he turns to scan the roiling bodies that fill up the dance floor, he finds them immediately. The shock doesn’t lessen, and if Oliver thought his heart had broken when they’d clung to one another on a train station platform, it’s naught compared to when Elio tips the other man’s chin up with the same fingers that used to play his body like a finely tuned instrument. White noise fills his ears as he ghosts a kiss to his lips - two chaste pecks at first - and then harder. Hungry. Mouths open. Tongues swirling. Deep and dirty. 

Just the way he likes it.

Fool that he is, Oliver doesn’t turn away. But he’s not the only one. Their bawdy display has garnered a small audience of the jealous and horny, and when the cat-calls eventually die down he notices a clearly disappointed red-head stalk past them on route to her table of friends. 

Time has not domesticated him, it seems, and Oliver feels like crying as the world returns frame by frame - the oscillating pulse of the dance track. The lightning burst of colour from the laser system above. An innate sense of powerlessness floods through him - the depths of which he hasn’t experienced since Elio sobbed against his chest in an attic bedroom - and a heavy weight settles in his belly as he recognises the cues and rituals that were once directed at him alone. 

Elio has obviously flourished in his absence. His body language is looser, more relaxed, assured in a way his younger self could only dream of, and Oliver allows an almost-smile as the couple laugh for a moment before turning to walk away. 

His fingers itch for a cigarette - a habit he’s struggling to waive - and the next thing he knows he’s taking a seat at the bar, a double shot of bourbon in his hand he doesn’t remember ordering, and a screaming admonishment from his better judgement to not do anything stupid. 

All I had to do was find the courage to reach out and touch, Elio said once, rife with self-mockery, and Oliver’s advice was to try again later. Was this it? Their later? And if not now, when? Because whatever his feelings of bitterness - whatever his misguided envy - if he lets this opportunity pass him by, he will always wonder. Always look. 

In truth, he already does. 

Ever since Samuel mentioned Elio was moving to the States, he’s carried the idle fantasy of crossing paths in some random book store, eyes locking across a busy street, a name - his, theirs, both - shouted across a bustling coffee shop. Of all eventualities, though, he hasn’t prepared for an Elio who might not be happy to see him. Who might dismiss him. Cast him aside like some ill-fitting chapter in the editing process. The context is all wrong, and for it to happen like this is akin to being plunged into the icy waters of the berm.

“Accidenti!” an achingly familiar voice says from somewhere behind him. “Are all Americans incapable of taking a hint? Or is it just an East Coast thing?”

“It’s the accent, mio amico. Fries their brains.”

“Never mind their brains,” Elio replies in the same lazy drawl. “I think you’ve sprained my tonsils.”

There’s a snicker to his left, and like a moth to a flame, Oliver peers up into the mirror behind the bar, only to find his living nightmare mere meters away, sharing a cigarette. Elio’s still wearing the same bracelets he did that summer, and three years of sleepwalking collapses around him as Oliver hunches over, palms sweating. 

“Seriously though,” the blond continues. “Look at this place! Wall-to-wall entreés, and you won’t so much as skim the menu. You’re spoiled for choice, compagno.”

Elio scoffs as he brings the filter to his lips. “Didn’t I tell you choice is an illusion?”

“As is time, according to Adams.” The man slings an arm over his shoulders. “And here you are, free as a bird, wasting the perfect opportunity.” 

Elio flips him the middle finger. “Stronzo,” he says, leaving Oliver more confused than ever as he studies him over the rim of his glass. “It’s a curse.”

“Self-inflicted, maybe.”

“So what’s the answer? And don’t say forty-two.”

The guy chuckles. “Variety,” he says, signalling the harried bartender. “Things didn’t work out with the violinist - I get it. È la vita! You’re not in the mood for pushy red-heads? Fine. But don’t sell yourself short. Trust Fund Tina’s not the only one checking you out.”

“Perhaps.”

“What perhaps?” A knowing smirk shoots in Oliver’s direction. “See for yourself.”

It’s like experiencing the first tremor of an earthquake. Elio was always a force of nature, and bracing for disaster, Oliver feels the fault lines buckle beneath him. He thought he was done letting fear and shame dictate his life, yet even now, at peace with his true self, he can’t bear to witness the seismic shift between past and present. Instead, he falls back on avoidance, tearing strips off a frayed beer mat until the hair prickles at his nape.

He can feel it - the instant his fate is sealed - and taking a deep breath Oliver returns his eyes to the mirror, meeting Elio’s stunned features. Dark brows climb towards his hairline as the happiness on his face shifts into something else. Something measured. Unrecognisable. A blank slate, almost. For a moment, Oliver fears he’s going to ignore him completely, but then Elio straightens his spine, offers the half-smoked cigarette to his friend, and with a few whispered words strides forward with purpose.

His daring is a law unto himself, but the look he’s giving him now exudes superiority - omniscience, almost - as if he can read every thought that’s going on inside Oliver’s mind, and has already deemed them wanting. It shouldn’t be such a turn on, yet his heart skips a beat regardless. Then another. Every instinct in his body tells him to reach out, to hold Elio’s hand, tuck those wild curls behind his ear, but it’s no longer his place - if it ever really was to begin with - so Oliver takes a deliberate sip of his whiskey, scared and aroused simultaneously, before swivelling towards him.

“Oliver.” His name on Elio’s lips - three smooth syllables - and he feels reborn. “Long time no see.” Hesitating, he offers up a pack of Luckies. “Fumo?”

“I shouldn’t,” he says, dragging trembling fingers through his hair. “I told myself I’d quit. God knows it won't take much to -” 

“Tempt you?” 

Heat rises to Oliver’s cheeks. “Yes,” he admits, and Elio’s smile is a shallow, brittle thing. 

“Well, you know yourself,” he says, returning the cigarette carton to his pocket. “Don’t let me ruin your good intentions.”

His flippancy is like a red rag to a bull, and Oliver’s hackles rise as he sets his drink on the counter, irritated enough by Elio’s calm exterior to try and provoke a reaction. “Is your boyfriend not the jealous type?” 

All he receives is an eye roll. “Bruno’s not my boyfriend.”

“Could’ve fooled me. From what I saw earlier.”

“You saw nothing,” Elio replies, defensive. “We’re friends. Roommates.”

“Roommates?” Rising from his stool, Oliver takes a step towards him. “That kiss -” 

“Is none of your business. Not anymore.” 

It hits him like a punch to the gut. Oliver’s lips part, but no sound passes between them. He’s being irrational, he’ll accept, but old habits die hard, and through sheer force of will he quashes down his guilt, knowing better than to use it as a weapon. 

“Of course,” he says, chastened. “You’re right.” 

“I usually am.” 

“Elio…” This isn’t how he wants the conversation to go. “I know it’s too much to expect your forgiveness, but please don’t be angry with me. We were friends, once. Before anything else.”

“I’m not angry.” A beat. “Not anymore.” Tipping his chin, Elio folds his arms in front of him. One more barrier despite the brush-off. “I’m processing.“

“Processing?”

“Yes, processing. Originates from the Old French proces. Related to the Latin processus, and from the verb procedere in Middle English.”

“Wise ass.”

“Sempre.” Elio shrugs, watching him openly. “What are you doing here, Oliver?”

“My friends saw the flyers,” he says, bypassing the here, specifically, when Elio’s attention drops a few inches lower, and he realises he’s staring at his ring finger.

At the white line that’s all but vanished since he signed his way to freedom.

“You’re…”

Oliver clears his throat. “Divorced,” he manages, shuffling his feet. “Almost three months now.”

“Divorced?” Elio’s mask slams back into place, the distress in his voice palpable. “Why?”

And there are so many things he could say to that - the stress of his job, money, differing expectations - but this is Elio. His first love. His forever love. He, above anyone, deserves the truth. 

“I think you know why.”

“Do I?” That same phony indifference. “What the eyes see, and the ears hear, the mind believes.” 

“The truth is never that simple.”

“Not for us, it seems. Not in this world.” Elio gives his head a small but firm shake, blowing out a frustrated breath. “You know, tonight was supposed to lower my stress levels, not raise them,” he says, granting them a temporary reprieve. “But then, you always were hazardous to my blood pressure.”

“Trust me. The feeling’s mutual,” Oliver tells him wryly. “Might I recommend some deep breaths?”

“Deep breaths?” Elio rocks back on his heels. “If I had any peaches I’d be using my right hand.”

It catches him unawares, and Oliver can't help it. He snorts. Overcome by relief. Then he laughs - a weak sound, and damn near helpless - but a laugh, nonetheless. Cupping a palm to his mouth. Moving it to his eyes. Feeling the tears he’s been fighting since this whole debacle began.

“My God you’re incorrigible,” he mutters, the sharp stab of regret cutting him to the core as he glances over his shoulder, and the blond - Bruno - shoots him a wink. “When you said I saw nothing...”

The hesitant curve of Elio’s smile lights a fire in his chest. “There was a girl on the dance floor who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Lucky for me, Bruno’s never been shy about putting on a convincing performance.” 

Oliver winces. “Well, I bought it.”

“Mission accomplished, then.” Elio edges closer. “I could’ve said the same for you, once upon a time.” The air between them grows charged. “Do you ever miss it?” he asks. “Italy, I mean?”

“Every single day.” Oliver finds himself captivated by the smattering of stubble along Elio’s jawline. The touch of smudged kohl beneath his lashes that turns his gaze smouldering. “Do you?”

“In a way.”

“Just a way?” He’s not entirely certain they’re talking about the same thing, and Vanessa’s advice seems all the more pertinent. “Let me buy you a coffee?” Oliver asks, and Elio frowns.

“What? Now?”

“If you like.” 

“It’s gone midnight!” 

“Tomorrow, then. Whenever you’re available.” Suddenly desperate, he closes the gap between them. “I can’t excuse my actions, Elio - I know I can’t - but at the very least I owe you an explanation.”

“Oliver...” This time it’s Elio who reaches out, his usually steady hands uncertain as they entwine with his. “I was young, not stupid. What’s there to forgive? You left because you had to. You married because -”

“I was weak.”

“Cazatte!” The tension in Elio’s body snaps back like a coil. “My father would have carted me off to a correctional facility,” he murmurs, squeezing his fingers tightly. “I’ll never forget those words.” 

“I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be!” Elio sounds furious on his behalf. “Weak, you say? No. Control over others is the true weakness. Coercion. Conformity. All it does is breed hatred. And that’s not you. Not my Oliver.” 

“Am I still?” he asks, laying his cards out on the table. “Your Oliver?”

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” 

Oliver swallows thickly. “I guess we will,” he says, dropping his forehead to Elio’s crown.

He’s braver at twenty-one than Oliver could have dared imagine, and for the first time in years the dull ache beneath his ribs is replaced by a different sort of craving. The way they fit together so easily, like no time has passed, fans the banked passions within him - the desire to press his lips against Elio’s neck, to nip his way along countless freckles until he can fist those unruly curls and guide his mouth back to where it belongs. 

Flush against his. 

Devouring.

But not yet.

This isn’t leading to sex. Not tonight. This is about reconciliation. Reassurance. Redemption.

“There’s a late-night diner on the corner…”

It’s a whisper against his cheek - so quiet he barely hears it - and Oliver leans down, pressing his face to Elio’s collarbone, breathing him in. He knows this won’t be easy - knows there will be dark clouds before the dawn - yet here they are, older and wiser, and three years might as well be yesterday as the parting crowds provide a temporary island in which to weather the storm.

[saibh29]

Flirting with Danger (2/2)

Pairing: Antonio Dawson x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking,PG Fluff, think that’s it…

AN: Ending to this little request, I really enjoyed writing this so hope everyone enjoys. Love to everyone and hope everyone is safe. xx

Could you please do an Antonio Dawson x halstead!reader where they both like each other but Antonio won’t do anything because it’s Jays sister. And he sees her talking to someone at Mollys and gets jealous? Thanks x

Molly’s was busy tonight, Herrmann in his constant bid to fill the bar with new customers had organised some live music from a group who’s name you couldn’t recall. It meant that a lot of the standard regulars had retreated to the booths around the edge of the bar grumbling about the general noise and new faces.

You were meant to be meeting Sylvie but she’d already called to say she was stuck at the hospital waiting to sign over responsibility of patient.

So, you were sat at the bar, laughing at Herrmann who was trying desperately to identify 3 cocktails that a group of very out of place high fashion women had ordered.

“Try Gin” you fake whispered to him as he routed around for bottles under the bar.

“Gin?” his head popped up to look at you in desperation. “You think it needs Gin?”

“Negroni is Gin based Herrmann”

“You know about this fancy stuff?”

You were getting a bad feeling about the sudden look in his eyes. “Maybe…”

“Help me” he reached out to grab your wrist. “I’ll give you whatever you want, just help!”

You really didn’t want to get up and go behind the other side of the bar, you did not want to get roped into helping Herrmann on what was bound to be his busiest night for months. However, on the other hand you were a little worried about just how desperate he looked. You weren’t sure what he’d do if you said no.

“Whatever I want?”

Herrmann sensing victory nodded instantly. “You got it darling, anything you want”

“Fine” slipping off your stool you went around the corner of the bar and ducked under the counter to join Herrmann on the other side. “You’re going to owe me big time though”

Herrmann didn’t seem concerned about that and left you doing the more complicated orders, one that didn’t just require him to pop the top off a bottle.

In turned out that actually you were quite enjoying yourself, the customers were in a good mood, the music wasn’t turning out too badly and even the arrival of the intelligence division hadn’t upset you too much.

Jay had laughed and simply ordered the most complicated thing he could think off, which, because it was Jay, wasn’t all that complicated. The others had also just grinned, all of them of course apart from Antonio Dawson.

The only one who was managing to ruin your night, because you were fairly certain he hadn’t stopped staring at you since they had sat down. You were doing your best to just ignore him but his gaze almost felt like a weight on your back.

You’d also seemingly gotten another fan because the paused band had come over to the bar and the drummer wasn’t even trying to be subtle about the fact that he was flirting with you.

Unfortunately, he was probably still in college and you didn’t date people who’s combined digits didn’t add up to more than 5. Even so, it was flattering and it hurt no one to indulge in flirting straight back. Nor, considering that you weren’t actually an employee here, did it hurt to take the drink he offered to buy for you.

You made yourself a rum and coke and handed him the beer he’d ordered before leaning over the bar to smile at him.

“I should ask you for ID”

“C’mon darling” he smiled “I'm not that young”

Sure, he wasn’t. Once again though you resorted to the ‘I don’t work here’ excuse. Anyway, you were pretty certain that Herrmann would have checked their ID before he hired them.

“Younger than me”

“I like older women. They know what their doing”

You couldn’t help the laugh at that line, he’d accompanied it with such a fake lewd smile that you knew he was joking. “You’re cute kid”

“I can work with cute”

“Oh you can huh?”

“Hey!” Herrmann came bustling up to your side. “Y/N I ain’t paying you to flirt. Leave the kid alone, he has to play”

“You aren’t paying me at all Herrmann” you grouched turned to glare at the fireman. “and who says I was flirting”

“You weren’t?” both of the men asked at the same time. Albeit with very different reasons.

Herrmann recovered first. “Scram kid, back to your drum kit. She’s taken”

This time it was you to say “what?”

Herrmann nodded his head over to where intelligence were sat and your blood instantly started to boil because you knew full well what Herrmann was getting at with that previous statement.

The drummer had looked over as well and obviously decided you weren’t worth fighting with Antonio for, especially not if he was doing his murder face, which he probably was. Without another word he grabbed his beer and slunk off back towards his band mates.

Herrmann instantly held his hands up in front of him when you directed your eyes that way.

“Not my fault sweetheart” he said instantly, “nothing to do with me…”

“Y/N”

Herrmann trailed off and quickly made himself busy at the other end of the bar. While you slowly turned around to face Antonio.

“What?”

“Can we talk?”

“About what?”

Antonio sighed rubbing his face in aggravation. “Don’t make me drag you out Y/N”

“Try it” you hissed, eyes flicking over Antonio to where Jay was still sat. “I can scream real loud and you know allllllllllll about my brother”

A war of indecision played out on his face until finally resolve settled and reaching over he grabbed your wrist and yanked you out from behind the bar and dragged you behind him towards the door.

Making the most of your previous warning you did scream for Jay who jerked his head towards you whole body tense to run for you, unfortunately he then saw what was happening and a shit eating grin spread over his face as he relaxed and simply shrugged his shoulders in a ‘what can I do’ sort of way.

Antonio pushed you out the door and backed you into the wall of the back of the bar, hand placed on either side of your head so he could lean into you. With any other male you’d be scared, worried about what he was going to do.

Dawson though?

He wouldn’t hurt you, ever. You knew that. It was that knowledge that was keeping you furiously angry instead.

“What the fuck are you doing Toni?” you snapped rubbing at your wrist. “Dragging people behind you like some sort of dog. Acting like you have some sort of right to dictate who I talk to? Who I can flirt with? What gives you the GODAMNED RIGHT!?”

You were thumping rather ineffectually at his chest during this tirade and apparently your brain had decided it was also ok to start crying. You were going to blame that on an over flow of alcohol from the previous night and just too much confusion about what Antonio wanted from you.

“Shit, sweetheart” his thumb wiped the tears away from your left cheek. “Don’t cry”

“Don’t call me that”

“Why not?”

“It isn’t true” you sniffed managing to get your tears under control. “I'm not…”

Your words got cut off because Toni had leant down the final inches between you and claimed your mouth in a kiss that seared you all the way from the top of your head to your toes. The hands you’d had bunched up to thump him now clung to the material of his shirt holding him close to you as he put one arm around your waist and the other tunnelling into your hair.

“You are” he spoke against your lips. “No more of this trying to ignore you or saying it won’t work because of Jay. None of it”

“None?”

“You’re mine darling, and that’s the end of it”

“I'm not a possession Toni”

He kissed the tip of your nose, the arm around your waist moved down, hand palming your ass and cancelling out the sweet gesture of kissing your nose. “Must be the caveman in me darling, he’s fairly certain you are his”

“Really?”

“Totally”

“And what? He’s going to club me over the head and drag me back to his cave?”

Antonio grinned “I'm not adverse to that idea” He seemed to be thinking for a moment. “I don’t have a club though; would you settle for handcuffs?”

There was another loaded statement if you ever heard one. One that you refrained from answering instead lifting yourself up on tiptoe you settled on kissing him again instead.

@lifesaclimb-buttheviewisgreat  @lclb13 @moli1497   @clementines-x @the-chosen-one-time-lord @no-other-names-availible-blog @angelaiswriting @selldraug @angryares @thenovarose @mindofthescattered  @dontstopxx @iamabeautifulperson18 @madelinecraig03 @ka-x-in @mesmericbell  @weirdpotato-14 @putinontheritzz @soulslaststand @fuckthatfeeling  @ember1201 @morganlb23 @tomhopperarms  @fakingintrest @artprincessbree  @dreamer-lover-laughter @artprincessbree @rime-warrior @captainvaneswife @kapolisradomthoughts @thingsandstuffienjoy @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @aya-fay  @itsbubbaog @hp-hogwartsexpress @emmykinzs @thatbadassunicorn @sassywingednightmare @weirdnewbie @goyawriter @shipperfangirling @nathaliabakes @stillreadingfantasy @waywardblueshun @give-jack-a-lightsaber @shipatheart @itsdesiree86 @coffeebooksandfandom​  @smoothdogsgirl  @witchygagirl​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @theatrenerd101601

[cubeswhump]

Her Old Home: A Visitor

Here we see Sweetie when she lived with her first owner. Sorry if you were looking forward to some Michelle nastiness. Pretty fucking angsty (see warnings) but uh. Sweetie makes a friend.

This was supposed to be posted hours ago but I think my iron is low so I slept all day and then my pig (yes you read that right, no I do not live on a farm) threw a tantrum that would put any two-year-old to shame and I had to make him happy and then I had to do exposure therapy. Now watch Sweetie make her pig happy.

Also I misspelled bruschetta so many different ways in my first draft.

Thank you @moose-teeth for the Guard Dog concept.

Tagging @more-miserables @haro-whumps @albino-whumpee @eatyourdamnpears @broken-horn @whumpsblog (If anyone wants to be added to the taglist, just say and I'll write you down for next time! Same goes for wanting to be removed.)

Warning for institutionalized slavery, dehumanization, ableist language (brief), implied dub/noncon, unwanted pregnancy, pregnancy in general, physical and emotional abuse, self-harm, self-deprecation, thoughts of abuse toward a minor, creepy caretaking (kinda?), suppression of stimming (very brief).

The pet stared with wide eyes as her owner took the good clothes out of the closet. Excitement bubbled inside her and the previously forgotten emition nearly knocked her off her feet.

"Mister Trey," she said quietly, daring to speak up. "Are we going out?"

He sneered at her. "Of course not. Are you retarded? Wretches like you stay in the house."

"Yes, Mister Trey. I'm very sorry." What a fool she was to have such absurd hopes, but the curiosity piped up within her brain, begging for answers.

"You don't need to know my reasons; all you need to do is what you're told. Now get fucking dressed," the man growled.

As he stalked out of the room, smoothing his greying hair, the pet dropped her sheer nightgown.

The nice clothes seldom came out of the closet, so how did they smell like Mister Trey's ashtray? She wrinkled her nose. The red skirt slid down her hips and she had to fasten its button with an elastic band. The shirt was so tight around her stomach too, and she couldn't even hide how she'd fastened her skirt.

She couldn't help shuffling into the bathroom to see the mess she was in the mirror. Her reflection's face contorted hideously and gripped its bulging stomach. The pink shirt was taut against the growth and showed a slip of pale skin below her navel as she fought to pull it down. She looked uglier than ever.

A little girl with her father's beautiful blue eyes and thick hair so unlike her mother's in the way it doesn't escape her pigtails prances around in a fabulous blue dress. Mister Trey spends so much money showering their daughter with gifts of clothes and toys but he doesn't complain. The kitchen smells of savory spices when she runs in and tugs on the wild-haired woman's conservative dress.

"Mama, Mama!" the girl exclaims in her squeaky voice. "Come play!"

The woman looks down and smiles. Her neck is bare. Bad thought, you're a pet. Her collar is stylish and comfortable. She holds a spoon to the child's lips. "Blow on it, baby, and tell me how it tastes."

The little girl blows so hard some broth splashes out, but her mother only laughs. She takes a noisy slurp and beams. "Mmm!"

"Good?" the woman asks, and the little girl nods emphatically. "Okay, I'll leave the soup simmering while we play."

The woman allows the little girl to take her hand and pull her right along into a different scene.

"Mama, Mama!" the child yells, and the woman scrubbing smokey baseboards in a translucent nightie fights the urge to cover her ears.

"Not now! Mama's busy," she says harshly. Her hands are red and raw but she scrubs and scrubs, nightgown wet after the day's cleaning and chafing her skin.

"Mama, I wanna play!" the child whines. Though its mother makes sure to keep it clean and fed, it's dressed in rags and covered in bruises.

The woman suddenly spins around and grips the child by its fragile shoulders. She forces herself to look into its eyes and gates the way she sees its father in them. Shut up, you love your owner. "Look, baby, I know you're bored but you'll have to just deal with it. We both know what your father will do if the house isn't clean when he gets home."

The woman releases the child's shoulders and turns her back. She doesn't want to see the tears pooling in its eyes.

The woman pet, younger now, stroking a black cat in the garden. A faint smile plays on her lips as she is warmed by the sun.

An infant's shrill cry pierces through her peace. The stupid brat always ruins her peace, what little time she has to herself. It was all she could do to not yank it out of its crib and shake it until it's quiet.

The pet whined a little, face crumpling in the mirror. She was awful, wretched, terrible. She seized her hairbrush and started beating her stomach with it. "I hate you! I don't want you! I don't want you!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Mister Trey screamed downstairs. "What's taking so long? Hurry up!"

The pet huffed and puffed, stomach and chest heaving so much her shirt threatened to burst. The slender fingers gripping her her hairbrush were white against the black handle. She slammed the brush down on the counter and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes in an effort to keep the tears in.

"Bitch! Hurry up!" Mister Trey boomed.

The pet placed a hand on her stomach. It stung from each blow but now she stroked the growth as tenderly as a newborn kitten. "I don't really hate you, baby... This world isn't right for you. And I'm a pet, not a mother."

"I don't want kids, Mama. I don't want a husband either. No one can tie me down!"

Confusion replaced misery. Where did those words come from? Had she uttered them? Who was Mama?

Stupid. Of course she had a mother at one point. As a pet, though, she has long since given away her right to have parents. She was a simple pet that was meant to serve. Her only family was her owner, and she loved him so, so much.

Her owner, who was waiting impatiently. Her blood turned icy. She tried to run from the bathroom but a sharp, white-hot pain knocked her to the ground. She cried out, convulsing as the pain radiated from her neck throughout her body.

Feet thundering up the stairs. All she could see were the tiles (did she already need to mop again?) and Mister Trey's shoes. With the click of a button, the pain stopped and she was able to be pleased that she had polished his shoes so well that her agonized face was reflected on one toe.

Still twitching, her hand moved to wipe away the drool that had trickled down her chin. A big hand grabbed hank of light brown hair and yanked her up. Her legs scrabbled achieve balance as her scalp screamed.

"When I say to hurry up, you fucking hurry up!" he roared, face twisted and nearly purple with rage. "What are you playing at, Bitch?"

"'M shurry..." Had her tongue grown thicker? Ugh, she sounded horrible. This wouldn't do.

"Come downstairs now!" He let go of her hair without warning and she dropped, chin hitting the floor so hard that for a moment she worried her teeth might break. Her tongue ran over the backs. Safe.

He stomped out of the room as she pushed herself up. He said to hurry but he'd be even angrier of she came downstairs with her hair sticking up and tangled. She raked the brush through it and sighed at the amount of hair that came back between the bristles when she pulled it away.

She ran down the stairs so fast she almost fell, stumbling on the last step. Mister Trey caught her by her arm, finger going wag-wag in her face like she was a naughty puppy.

"Clumsy girl! You be careful with my heir," he barked.

"I'm very sorry, Mister Trey," the pet said hastily, moving to kneel before he stopped her.

"I'm expecting company. Get started on negroni and something to eat."

She hurried off to the kitchen. She didn't know how much time she had to prepare so she had to come up with something that could be made quickly but wouldn't stale or turn to mush if this visitor took a while to arrive.

She had just drizzles the last of the balsamic vinegar when the doorbell rang. She picked up the tray and hurried to greet the visitor, but not so fast that the drinks would slosh.

There wasn't one visitor, but two. The shock collar around the stocky, taller one's neck quickly told the pet why Mister Troyer only mentioned one visitor; the second wasn't even a person.

"Right on time. Oh, look wgat she has for us!" Mister Trey's teeth gleamed in his perfect smile.

"Isn't she a Romantic?" asked the other owner.

He was less handsome than both his pet and Mister Trey, heavyset and balding with a pinched face, but he seemed... genuine. No, horrible pet, your owner is the most genuine man alive!

"She is," Mister Trey said. "Isn't she lovely?"

"Your romantic cooks and serves you on a platter?" asked the other owner, eyebrows raised.

Mister Trey took away the tray and wrapped an arm around his pet, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "She's perfect. Now, show some respect for Mister Brighten. Position five."

Both pets dropped to their knees, palms down and foreheads pressing to the floor. Mister Brighten sighed. "Come on, Ajax. You don't have to do that. Get up."

His pet, Ajax, was upright in an instant, right by his owner's side. His expression was hard as stone. "Yes Sir, sorry Sir."

"Tell your girl she can get up, Kyle," demanded Mister Brighten. The girl was shocked to hear someone bossing her owner around.

"Get up," Mister Trey barked, and she did so. As Mister Brighten tirned his attention to regard the female pet, he frowned, squinting at her stomach as it stuck out over the waist of her skirt. This early on, he couldn't tell if she just carried extra wait in her midsection, or if Mister Trey actually...

"You should buy your pet clothes that fit," Mister Brighten scoffed, and heat rushed to the pet's face.

No, don't blush! Embarrassment insults the owner! But it was hard not to feel embarrassed as she regarded herself in her socks and ill-fitting clothes, with her hair that refused to cooperate, and then looked at the others. Mister Trey in his smart suit and shiny patent shoes, hair nice and gelled. Mister Brighten with his suit as well. Even Ajax looked nice, fantastic curly hair in a neat ponytail and a button-down tucked into his slacks.

But Mister Brighten softened as he looked at the girl. "What's your name, honey?"

She opened her mouth. "Bi-"

Mister Trey cut in. "That doesn't matter. This is Ajax?" He reached toward his slick black hair, hand retracting when the boy snarled. "My God! Discipline your pet, Will."

Mister Brighten's ever-present frown deepened. "He's a Guard Dog. He's meant to be wary of people other than his owner."

"I'm a friend of your owner, Ajax. You treat me with respect, you hear me? Now, let's not let this food go to waste."

"I hope you made enough for Ajax," Mister Brighten murmured, sitting across from Mister Trey. The other owner snorted.

"Does he need it in a dog bowl?" he joked.

"You know he's still human, right?" Mister Brighten asked dryly. "How about the pets take their plates and leave us owners to talk business?"

Ajax gave a nod. The girl looked ro her owner for approval, and he waved dismissively. She took four pieces of bruschetta to split between two small plates, and did an awkward curtsey.

"Enjoy your bruschetta and negronis, sirs," she said, though it felt very belated. She turned to Ajax, murmuring, "Shall I show you the garden?"

Ajax looked to his owner. His owner nodded. "Go ahead, Ajax. She's safe."

Ajax nodded and followed the other pet. She led him to the back garden and he patiently listened while she showed him all her plants" "This here, my tomato plant, is my favorite. I grew the tomatoes on our bruschetta myself. I used to have an eggplant bush but Mister Trey said he doesn't like eggplants and it's an eyesore so I had to dig it up, which was a great idea from him. I don't know what this cactus is, but I really, really like it. And this..."

Once she had introduced every plant, the pets lapsed into silence. Ajax took a tentative sniff of his bruschetta before taking a bite. He really was like a dog, but at least he chewed with his mouth closed.

The girl didn't think she had ever interacted with a Guard Dog. She hadn't interacted with many pets at all; Romantics were dirty sluts and the orher trainees rightfully kept their distance.

"What does your owner call you?" Ajax asked at one point, surprising her. "He wouldn't let you say."

"I don't think he wants people to know," she replied.

Silence again. Then he spoke up. "May I ask a question? It might be rude."

She frowned a bit. She, a pet, was being asked for her approval? And who was this other pet to speak so casually?

"All right," she agreed.

"Are you pregnant?"

The girl pulled on a lock of her hair, moving it toward her face. She stopped herself from putting it in her mouth. Bad, Bitch! No chewing. She nodded.

"Pets aren't supposed to get pregnant," Ajax pointed out.

"Mister Trey wants an heir," she informed him.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means..." She paused, frowning again. "I don't actually know, but it's very important to Mister Trey, and I want him to be happy."

"As you should. I strive to keep Will- Mister Brighten happy."

"I'm happy if Mister Trey is happy," the girl went on. "So, so happy. And very grateful for all he's done for me."

Ajax nodded. He swallowed the last bite of his bruschetta while the other pet's sat untouched.

[supergoodwill]

Co w duszy gra Online Cda Zalukaj  Chomikuj

Movie Co w duszy gra online proves the theory that all the studio's films take place in an interconnecteduniverse.I'll also show you how Soul explains the Toy Story movies, where the Incredibles get theirpowers, and the origins of the magical doorways in Monsters Inc and Brave.Plus I'll explain how the new film fits in with Inside Out and Coco.

Of course, there'll be some spoilers, so take care.Jon Negroni first introduced the idea of a single Pixar timeline, and it's in Soul'sThe Hall of Everything where we can find especially compelling evidence to confirm Negroni's theory.The hall is overflowing with specific objects and locations which often recur in Pixar'sfilms, from the iconic Pizza Planet truck to the blimp from Up, and even the weirdlyshaped rock, called Wille's Butte from the Cars movies.And that's a huge pointer that the films exist in the same universe.But Soul goes even further than this, because even though the film appears to be set roughlyin the present day, which I'm basing on the look and feel of New York City and the cellphoneJoe uses, the Hall of Everything even has objects fromthe future such as the Axiom from Wall-E, one of a fleet of giant starliners that wasn'tused until 2105 when Buy N Large arranged for the evacuation of Earth.This implies that The Hall of Everything may even contain blueprints or at least the inspirationfor events that are still to come in the future of the Pixar universe.

Co w duszy Gra CDA also demonstrates one of the most important concepts at the heart of Negroni's Pixar Theory,that humans are batteries.The idea is that human beings are a source of energy to sentient objects such as thetoys in Toy Story which is why they crave the love of their owners;otherwise, it's suggested that if the toys end up stored away they lose their life.And in Monsters Inc, we know that technology exists that can harvest energy from humanemotions such as fear or joy.And there are several moments in Soul that strongly support this idea of humans as anenergy source.When Joe is on the elevator that leads to the Great Beyond, he notices that as the soulsof the recently deceased float up into the big bright light, they fizzle and cracklelike an electrical charge.[electrical crackling sounds] As if to reinforce this idea that a soul isa form of energy, there's also an electrical crackle sound effect whenever we see Terrycounting souls on her abacus.[electrical crackling sounds] Joe also discovers in the Great Before thatbefore new souls can take their place on Earth, they not only have to acquire a set of personalities,but they also need what the movie calls a "spark" to complete that personality.Without this spark, theoretically a soul isn't allowed to go to Earth and live a human life.

Twenty-two does end up on Earth by accident, but the general rule is that a "spark" isneeded to complete the Earth Pass which a soul needs to live a life.The word "spark" can, of course, mean a number of things such as a burst of electricity oran intense feeling or emotion, which again points to this idea of human beings as a formof energy or batteries even.Another crucial element of Negroni's Pixar theory is the idea that Boo from MonstersInc travels back in time to become the Witch in Brave.I'll get to how Soul supports this idea shortly, but first let's quickly recap what the theorysays about time travel.Brave is set in 10th-century Scotland whereas, given the monsters' advanced technology, MonstersInc takes place in the future.The clearest evidence which suggests time travel is the wood carving of Sulley thatthe Witch has in her cottage.She's also obsessed with bears which could be her way of expressing the strong friendshipshe made with Sulley in Monsters Inc.On top of that, the Witch has carvings of the Pizza Planet truck which should be impossiblegiven motorised vehicles most definitely did not exist in medieval Scotlandand she has carved parodies of famous art by artists from the future like Michelangelo.

The door to the Witch's cottage is also magical and can transport her into an alternate interiorversion of her hut, and it can also make her disappear.This is because Boo learned how the technology of the portal doors at the Monsters Inc factoryworked, which is how she travelled through time and space.Crucially in Soul, we can see this same technology in the You Seminar.After souls are paired up with their mentor, Jerry conjures up a door and sends them throughit, instantly transporting them to another location.And when Jerry gives Joe his second chance to return to Earth, he passes from The GreatBeyond through a door and emerges on Earth through another door.Given The Great Before existed at the beginning of time, it suggests that the technology formagical portals in the Pixar Universe was originally born there.Soul also makes a sneaky possible reference to Boo's time-travel shenanigans in what initiallyappears to be a throwaway line by one of the Jerrys.When Terry turns up to complain that the count is out by one soul, Jerry replies:"I seriously doubt that.The count hasn't been off in centuries."This is a vital piece of information for Pixar theorists because it tells us an anomaly similarto Joe escaping the elevator that was taking him to the Great Beyond has happened previously,several hundred years ago in fact.To understand what may have happened all those centuries ago, let's look at what happenedwhen Joe's soul accidentally fell into the body of Mr Mittens."Why am I in a cat?""I don't know!""Meow."It seems that Mr Mittens' soul was sent off to The Great Beyond.So, what if Boo did a similar thing when she time-travelled to medieval Scotland?

Could she have landed in the body of a Scottish woman and displaced her soul sending it upto the Great Beyond?That would mean there'd be an extra soul in the afterlife without a corresponding deadbody on Earth, which could be the reason for the count being off as Jerry said.Interestingly, when Joe returns to his old body in Soul, Mr Mittens appears to regainhis original soul too as we see him reunite with his owner,so if my theory about Boo and the Witch's soul is correct, it makes me wonder whetherTerry did anything about the anomaly that occurred in the soul count hundreds of yearsago.By the way, it's worth pointing out that there's also a Brave easter egg in Soul during thevideo at the You Seminar when we see a soul find its spark after it successfully shootsan arrow into the centre of one of three targets, referencing Merida's demonstration of archeryskills when she fired arrows into three targets.And there are, of course, many more Pixar easter eggs in Soul including the Chinesetakeout box, A113, and the Luxo Ball, all of which I reveal in my full easter eggs video.Now, there are two Pixar movies, Inside Out and Coco, which on the surface seem to contradictSoul and maybe pose a problem for how smoothly it fits into the interconnected universe ofthe Pixar Theory.

The first issue is to do with personality.In The Great Before, we discover that every soul acquires a set of personalities beforethey go to Earth."This is where personalities come from?""Of course!Do you think people are just born with them?"However, in Inside Out, personalities are formed whenever a new core memory is made."Each Core Memory powers a different aspect of Riley's personality.The Islands of Personality are what make Riley...Riley!"While these ideas about personality may appear to be at odds with one another, they can beeasily reconciled if we think of a new born soul as having a baseline personality at birth,some of which adapts and changes as that person grows up and has different experiences.In fact, in Inside Out we see that Riley loses her personalities when she experiences a traumaticevent, however, these are later restored and new ones are also added as she grows up;so an individual's personality is clearly not something static or unchanging.Likewise, Soul also shows us how Twenty Two's personality changes as she experiences lifeon earth.Something else we need to reconcile is how Coco's Land of the Dead fits with Soul's depictionof The Great Beyond.

In Co w Duszy Gra online, the afterlife is a relatively simple place with an escalator that leads souls toa giant white light in the sky.This representation may be alluding to the idea that many people who report near-deathexperiences describe a tunnel with a bright light at the end that draws them towards it.Coco's spirit world, on the other hand, is complex and bursting with colours, with theMarigold Bridge forming a connection between the Land of the Living and the elaborate andcomplex Land of the Dead.Fear not though, because we can resolve these differences by turning to Pixar's officialThe Art of Soul book, which describes The Great Beyond as"a place beyond all that can be known […] represented by a brilliant white light ina vast space […] What lies beyond the light is all up to interpretation."As the book suggests, we can interpret what is beyond the bright light in our own way,and so we can see the Land of the Dead in Coco as a culturally-specific vision of whatthe afterlife is unique to people of Mexican heritage.This would also explain how Coco can have its own specific rules for its spirit world,such as allowing the dead to cross over to the Land of the Living one day each year.What's common to both Soul and Coco though is that the dead souls all retain the appearanceand age they had at the time of their death, whereas in the Great Before, all the soulslook more or less similar, likely because they haven't yet taken a human form yet.The sparks that a soul acquires may even explain where the Supers in The Incredibles got theirpowers.Could it be that the souls that ended up as superheroes were supercharged with extra powersby the spark they received in the Great Before?There is, after all, a statue of what looks like a caped hero on a plinth in the Hallof Everything.

Maybe that statue was responsible for sparking the unfortunate idea of caped superheroes."No capes!"And this is just a fun idea, but could the soul that's being interviewed here for theYou Seminar training video be the soul of Buddy Pine, aka Syndrome."I'm a manipulative megalomaniac, who's intensely opportunistic.""Oh ho!This one might be a handful, but that's Earth's problem."Perhaps Syndrome got his spark from that statue, because after all it was his cape that provedto be his ultimate undoing.And yes, Syndrome wasn't born with powers, but that statue might have inspired him toseek glory in whatever way he could.Or could that soul be Evelyn Deavor, the master manipulator and evil tech genius from thesecond Incredibles movie?The soul's possibly female-sounding voice might also suggest this, although we knowfrom Twenty Two that a soul can change their voice to sound like any type of person."I can sound like this if I wanted to.Or sound like this instead.I can even sound like you."If you like either of these ideas, leave a thumbs-up or comment below with which otherPixar character you think this troublemaking soul could be

[theredheadinquestion]

The Negroni

Inspired by this Instagram video.

As Greg emerges from the shower, he hears the faint strains of jazz filtering in from downstairs. Memories hit him like a lorry, and he steadies himself with a deep breath. It seems forever ago, the times when Myc listened to jazz as he cooked, and evenings were spent flirting over cocktails and homemade pasta. Then the pandemic hit, and in the flurry of lockdown, of stress and worry and Mycroft’s increasingly frustrating virtual meetings, romance fell away, like so many other parts of their life.

 Evidently, it was time to reclaim one piece of normality.

Greg forgoes his sweatpants and reaches for a certain snug pair of outrageously expensive jeans. The pair Mycroft bought and declared as ‘frankly, the only ones that adequately display your spectacular arse.’ He adds the crisp black button down he hasn’t worn since February, and black suede ankle boots, which feel a bit stiff after weeks of nothing but socked feet or trainers.

His wedding ring sparkles in the ensuite lights as he works product through his hair, reminding him—as if he needed reminding—what a lucky sod he is. Greg adds a touch of the cologne Mycroft gave him for his birthday and surveys the results in the mirror. He remembers this guy, the one who loves to travel and experience new places, new restaurants, and old history with the love of his life. He’s missed this guy.  

Greg makes his way down the stairs and follows the jazz into their large, open kitchen. Mycroft stands at the far end, in front of their small bar, selecting bottles from their growing collection of liquor. Mycroft insisted on adding the bar when they renovated the kitchen, and Greg’s been glad for it a thousand times over. At the sound of of Greg’s footsteps, he turns and looks his husband up and down appreciatively. Greg does the same. 

While Greg’s lockdown uniform had gradually degraded from jeans to old jeans to sweatpants, Mycroft remained in his suits. He did, after all, still have a country to run.

But this outfit…it takes Greg’s breath away. Mycroft has chosen one of the casual outfits reserved for their holidays and long weekends far away from London. Slim black chinos. The snug black polo that clings to his freckled biceps in the most erotic way. And even a belt. He was, after all, still Mycroft Holmes-Lestrade.

“Care for a cocktail, my dear?” Mycroft’s eyes gleam in the soft light, somehow making his red beard appear even redder. Greg’s insides nearly melt. His husband’s interest in crafting cocktails was a skill few were privy to, and even fewer benefited from. Before Mycroft, Greg had been more of an ale man, but now he was a firm aficionado of cocktails. And if they were made by his husband? Pure foreplay.

“Always.” Greg says. “What’re you making me tonight, Gorgeous?”

“I find myself in the mood for a Negroni. Would you care for one?”

“I’d love one.” A thought occurs to Greg, and he can’t resist. “As long as you walk me through it.”

Mycroft gives him a low, smoldering look that says he knows exactly what his husband is up to. “We’re going to prepare this Negroni up.” He begins with a slow lick of his lower lip. “Most people opt for on the rocks, but I think it’s lovely up.”

“We’ll begin with a fair amount of ice.” Mycroft ignores the ice tongs in favor of his long, nimble fingers, and it goes straight to Greg’s cock. “As you see, we’re doing this in the most hygienic way possible.”  

Mycroft’s smolder increases, and he reaches for the jigger. “To the ice we’ll add a double shot of gin. If one doesn’t care for gin, vodka will do. In that circumstance I’d suggest one lace it with a bit of gin, to give it that nudge of flavor.” He empties the jigger into the shaker and adds an extra splash for good measure.

“That’s a double shot in this house.” He says with a wink, in that low voice Greg adores, and Greg nearly has to adjust himself.

“Next we’ll add a shot of sweet vermouth, but make sure you use a good sweet vermouth.” He measures the shot and pours it into the shaker. “One should never use inferior brands.” He makes a face and gives a finger wag. “Not good.”

“And then…a single shot of campari.” He measures and pours it in. “It’s a simple recipe. Simple, but effective.” He raises an eyebrow. “As the best things are.”

This time Greg does have to adjust himself, and he bites his lip to suppress a moan. Mycroft places the lid on the shaker and presses it firmly into place. He shakes it while gazing at Greg with a look that speaks volumes.

 “You elegant bastard.” Greg murmurs.

 After several long seconds, Mycroft concludes the shaking and removes the cap. “As I said, some prefer it on the rocks, but I really do prefer it up.”

“Now.” He removes a crystal glass from the large selection on the shelf. “We can place it in a coupe like this, or a martini glass.” He pulls down a martini glass and displays it briefly before placing it back. “Or whatever glass you desire. Personally, I’m fond of it in a coupe.”

Mycroft pours, and Greg’s mouth practically waters as the delicate glass fills with the dark coral liquid.

“We’ll want to garnish with orange.” Mycroft retrieves a small bowl and removes a half-moon slice. “This is actually the way we buy our oranges.”  He glances at Greg from beneath his eyelashes. “That’s not true at all. They come from Florida this way--it’s most incredible.” He places the bowl back on the counter.

“You’ll want to gently add a bit of the juice, like so.” Mycroft holds the slice over the coupe and carefully gives it a squeeze. “But never let anyone see you handle it in this manner.” He places the orange slice on top of the drink’s surface and picks up the finished cocktail.

“Here we are, and that’s that.” Mycroft indulges in a test sip and Greg finds he can’t control himself any longer. He slides his arms around his husband’s waist and leans in. Mycroft’s kiss is cold and his mouth tastes of the finest Negroni ever crafted. Greg groans and slides to knees.

“You won’t be able to hold it while doing that.” He takes another sip and looks down at Greg with a wicked grin. “How terrible for you.”

“Oh you’ll make me another.” Greg says as he nuzzles Mycroft’s hard cock through his chinos. After all, cocktails can wait. Making love to his husband can’t.

[dick-too]

friday, march 13

Friday the 13th!! I like to think I'm above this but I'm not. Couple days ago I vacuumed up some leaves with the lawn mower and the fact that it's mainly a dirt plot means that I ingested a lot of dust even though I was wearing one of those papery masks   not an N-95. I did the Netty Pot thing but still . . .   started feeling some chest tightness   probably the dust ingestion but could also be the vape. Yes, I do like the leaf and am willing to take that chance. I have a history of seasonal allergies that tends to morph into bronchitis and that's probably what it is but there's a synchronicity issue with the COVID-19 that's disconcerting   am monitoring. Fixed me a Negroni and that helped   as always   I'm old, too, so that's a factor.

I have an inhaler because I used to be allergic to cats and so whenever I go to my doctor (a no-butt guy that I saw at the Food Lion one time buying 2 cases of Milwaukee's Best Lite) and he says   how's the cat allergy doing   I say   still a problem   he writes me out a script. I could probly just fess up that it's really just the vape and the result would be the same but I don't want to disrupt our kabuki. M is worried that I'm coughing   I feel fine though   until I overthink it

[lumosinlove]

On the third day of ficmas, Hazel gave to you…a New Year’s Eve party meet cute.

Sirius felt rather tired of the party in swing around him all of a sudden—even though it is his party. He straightened his button-down, the white collar falling open loosely at his collarbones, and took another sip of champagne. This one was made in Belgium. He’d given specific instructions to the waiting staff to bring out a different champagne per hour closer to midnight. He’d selected all of them himself, saving the best for last. It was ten forty-five now. He only had a few more moments with Belgium before it was off to Germany, and then, finally France. Because, of course. James and Lily made it a point to tell him at every one of his parties that he over did it, but what could he say? He’s on the list of twenty-five billionaires under twenty-five, and Sirius thought he’d earned a little extravagance. At least until he was thirty under thirty, and he had to—maybe—have a bit more poise.

Besides, he was always telling them, what else am I going to do with it all?

He looked briefly towards where they were laughing with Alice and Frank, then turned away towards the full-length window, watching fat flakes of snow fall down to coat the ground.

He gave to more charities than he could count, his brother would never have to work a day in his life if he didn’t want to. The rest was left to him. He’d spend it on his friends whether they liked it or not.

“Sirius! There you are!”

Sirius closed his eyes against the falling snow. Why had he let his assistant maneuver him into inviting any work relations at all? He pressed a smile onto his face and turned.

“Barty! So glad you could come.” He accepted the clammy handshake, “How are the kids?” Please don’t show me pictures.

Barty was already reaching for his wallet, “Oh, marvelous, wonderful, look here—“

And so Sirius spent the next ten minutes looking at pictures that ranged from baby to early childhood to first day of school, and the next ten discussing the best possible way to rope the Chudley Cannons into accepting a deal with this sponsor rather than that one. It was not the place at all, but Sirius figured he’d rather do it now than have to see Barty again later in the week.

“Padfoot.”

Sirius stops from where he had been arguing for looking into the Godric Griffins instead, and blinks at a boy who he doesn’t—no, almost doesn’t recognize. He certainly doesn’t recognize his nickname coming from his lips—no matter how full they may be.

“I—yes?”

The boy strides a few steps closer, turning to smile at Barty, “Hi, sorry mate, got to steal this one away. I’d also, though, go with the Griffins. They’re having a much better season.”

Barty opens and closes his mouth a few times, and then closes his wallet and accepts a glass of German champagne from a waiter walking by. He takes a sip, hums, and follows the tray for more.

Sirius places his own glass down, as it’s not Belgium’s hour anymore, and holds his handout with the same business-like smile, “Your Lily’s friend, aren’t you? So sorry, I think I’ve forgotten—“

“It’s alright, we haven’t actually met.” The boy grins and takes two Germany glasses from a passing tray, “You don’t have to pretend you know me, so put that smile away. I just thought you looked rather miserable.”

Sirius takes the glass slowly, watching the boy’s own easy grin, his soft but pilling sweater, “That smile?”

“You didn’t have this party to talk business.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip, “No.”

The boy motions towards the window with his own glass, “But here you are sulking by the window until that guy comes up to chat about something that can definitely wait until Monday.”

Sirius lets out a huffy laugh, checking to make sure Barty is well out of hearing distance before taking a slightly larger sip, “I don’t want to see him on Monday.”

The boy hums in understanding and faces the window. He really should be getting that sweater dry-cleaned. Sirius watches his lips and his profile and suddenly has a strong urge to buy him a nicer one.

Sirius leans his shoulder against glass, cold seeping through his thin shirt, “What’s your name again? You never—“

“Oh.” The boy shakes his head, “Shit, sorry, it’s Remus.” He offers a smile, shaking his head like forgetful things like this happen all the time, “Hi.”

The corner of Sirius’ mouth lifts and he needs a second before he remembers to say, “Hi.”

“Do you like the champagne?” He adds. Could we go somewhere with a bottle of France to ourselves in a bit?

Remus nods, “Sure. Sort of like the cheese platter more, though. Not to burst your bubble or anything.”

Sirius laughs, shaking his head, “No, that’s fine. Did you see—“ He sighs, “Well, I arranged them to pair with the drinks but I’m fairly sure no one is going in order.” He glances over where he can just see someone—Peter, maybe—still nibbling on nine o’clock’s brie.

“You’re insane if you thought anyone would follow that rule, but,” When Sirius looks back at Remus as he pauses, he feels his ears heat because Remus is already looking at him, head dipped and lips soft, “but cute try.”

Sirius lets his temple rest against the window, “Yeah?”

They stay there, talking by the window until Sirius takes Remus’ German glass from his hands and replaces it with France.

“You have to like this one.” When Remus looks up at him, Sirius realizes how close they’ve gotten, how he can’t feel the chill of the window anymore.

“Is it your favorite?” Remus asks.

Sirius shrugs one shoulder, “It’s the most expensive.”

“But is it your favorite?”

Sirius blinks, “Oh. Well,” he lets out a small huffy laugh, “to be honest I don’t quite love this stuff.”

Remus tilts his head, “You’ve been serving it all night.”

“It’s New Year’s Eve.”

Remus studies him for a moment, then presses his lips together and holds his untouched glass out with finality, “I want your favorite. Not money’s favorite, your favorite.”

Sirius, to his credit, is not easily taken off his guard these days. He’d been ambushed too many times in stuffy meeting rooms with stale croissants on the table for that. He’s steady on his feet, trusts only himself, and is rather proud of the fact.

But here, he stutters. His heart feels warm in his chest. “I—mine?“

Remus holds his glass out more forcefully until Sirius takes it, “What do you like best?”

Sirius sets the glasses down on a side table behind him, “You really want to know?”

Remus nods, “Yeah.” Sirius might imagine it but he thinks that maybe Remus looked at his lips there for a moment, “I do.”

Sirius glances around the crowded apartment. Everyone is having a good time, paired off and merry. The televisions have been turned on. There’s a half an hour until midnight.

“Come on.”

Remus said nothing, just wove after Sirius through the apartment. Sirius nodded to James on his way by, shook hands and clapped a few shoulders, and checked a few times to make sure Remus hadn’t lost him.

He rounded the corner and stopped so suddenly that Remus bumped into his back, his nose knocking between his shoulder blades. Sirius suppressed a grin and pushed hard on one of the wooden panels of the wall. It clicked open and Remus sucked in a little breath.

“After you.”

Remus looked at him, “This is a secret door.”

Sirius nodded, “It is.”

“You have a secret door.”

“I have a lot of secret things.”

Remus let out a disbelieving laugh, looked once more over his shoulder, but allowed himself to be ushered through, Sirius following close behind.

“What the fu…” Sirius almost bumps into Remus this time, “Sirius, how big is this place?”

“A bit.” He lights up the small iPad on the wall and turns the lights on—still dim. He raises the shades too so they can just see the snow falling, “Well, no one really sees this part. I like…I like to have some of it to myself, you know? Somewhere that people can’t just…find during nights like this.” He offers Remus a small smile, “I host a lot of parties.”

“But I’m here.” Remus tilts his head again and Sirius clears his throat, making his way towards the small bar across the room that he keeps personally stocked. He lifts the counter gate up and slips behind it.

“Yeah. I don’t want to interrupt the kitchen right now, but you wanted a drink, so…” He places the three bottles he needs and a crystal mixer on the counter.

“I…Wait, Sirius, I don’t want you to feel like—I mean, I didn’t mean—“

“Remus. If I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here.” He gives him a sure nod, “Really. Please, sit.”

Remus eyes the built-in leather bar stools for a moment before crossing to Sirius and sliding onto one. He fiddles with an ashtray, “Do you smoke?”

“No.” Sirius shrugs, “In case someone else does.”

Remus furrows his eyes at it for a minute, “But I thought…” His expression clears and he looks behind him, and the large bed set up by the window, the dark gray sheets and mountain of pillows. He quickly turns around, “Oh. Right, that’s…that’s thoughtful.”

Sirius really, really doesn’t want to talk about other people in his bed with this boy in front of him right now, “Don’t you want to know what you’re having?”

Remus looks up from where he’d still been looking at the ashtray and smiles, “Oh. Yeah.”

“Negroni.”

Remus scrunches his nose, “That sounds like a self defense move.”

Sirius lets out a loud laugh, “It’s not, but that’s funny. Do you want to grab me an orange from that bowl while I mix this?”

Remus follows his gaze to the fruit bowl behind the counter and nods. Instead of opening the gate he promptly ducks beneath it, “Here.”

Sirius has only just finished pouring when the sound of people counting down comes muffled from the other room. They both look towards the door.

“Huh.” Remus smiles softly and accepts the thin, wide-mouthed glass Sirius holds out to him, “Midnight already.”

“Yeah.” Sirius makes no move to pick up his own glass, and Remus just holds his.

The counters reach one and fireworks start almost immediately. The snow outside turns shades of red and green and purple, and it reflects off of Remus’ skin and hair, even from here.

Neither of them has said anything yet, but they’re looking at each other and listening to the celebration. Sirius suddenly really hopes Remus hasn’t seen this as some strange ploy to get him alone, especially with the talk about having people in here earlier, and his mind spins for a good ten seconds around how to ask for a kiss, or should he ask for a kiss, when Remus lets out a breath.

“I know we met two hours ago but—“ And Remus shakes his head for a moment, and his eyes definitely find Sirius’ mouth this time before his own lips do. His mouth is as hot as he makes Sirius’ chest feel and Sirius’ hand finds one side of Remus’ jaw. And then it’s over. Sirius’ fingers stay though.

“I—Happy, uh.”

“Yeah.” Sirius agrees.

“Yeah.” Remus doesn’t look quite focused. His cheek is sort of pressing into Sirius’ palm, and Sirius doesn’t really realize he’s leaned forward until Remus’ tongue is licking into his mouth, and somehow Remus is planted firmly on the counter, knocking their drinks askew.

“Fuck, I didn’t even try it.” Remus mumbles the words against Sirius’ mouth, fingers splayed and curling into his hair.

“Make you another.” Sirius just gasps out before they’re kissing again. It’s easier, now that Remus is Sirius’ height, but Sirius drags his mouth down to Remus’ neck anyhow, all the way to the worn collar of his sweater, “Later.”

Remus laughs, but it sort of comes out a moan, and Sirius looks up, “I don’t—I mean, is this okay? I honestly, I didn’t take you here for this, I don’t want you to think—”

Remus takes a breath—a few breaths—and smiles. Somehow that smile is Sirius’ favorite part of this entire scenario. His hands curl around Sirius’ ears, weaving the soft hair there through his fingers, and he leans down for a much softer kiss, “This is okay. But you do have…”

Sirius sighs, “A shit ton of guests.”

Remus nods solemnly, “A shit ton of guests.”

Sirius smiles against a sigh but nods, helping Remus down from the counter and around the spilled drinks on the floor.

Remus straightens Sirius’ collar for him before they sneak back into the party. It’s emptied out a little, maybe, but not much.

“Hey.” Sirius loops his fingers around Remus’ wrist to stop him from going too far into the main room, “Get brunch with me tomorrow. I know a place.”

Remus studies him for a moment before grinning, “No, I know a place. But, yes. I’ll pick you up at Twelve. Yeah?”

Sirius blinks, “I—Yeah.” He smiles back, “Good.”

“Happy New Year’s, Sirius.”

Sirius watches him move over to James and Lily, both of whom are looking a little flushed, and says softly, “You too.”

[carisi-dreams]

@justanotherwriter280​ requested: "i think about you all the time. it's freaking annoying." Dealer's choice which 'verse :)

this came from the prompt list I reblogged for the cartel!au, so that’s where it’s set :)

“You know, a less secure man would think you never think about him and forgot about our deal,” Sonny drawled casually from across Miguel.

Miguel leaned back on his side of the booth and briefly glanced around the pub that was rapidly becoming more and more smoke filled. He pulled out a cigar of his own and fiddled with it, but never brought it up to his mouth.

“I think about you all the time,” Nick replied in a sour tone. “It’s freaking annoying.” He said something else under his breath that Sonny didn’t catch.

“I heard you met with my less cultured brethren recently,” Sonny replied pointedly. His face was mostly impassive, but his eyes danced as they raked over Miguel. Where Miguel looked deep in thought Sonny looked the picture of casual. He took another sip of his Negroni and savored the citrusy flavor. He swirled the glass a little to hear the ice clink gently as he watched Miguel choose his words carefully.

“Turns out I’m not a Guinness man,” Miguel replied somewhat cryptically. “I only met with them out of respect for their relationship with my father, but…things will be different with me. I’m interested in a more…sophisticated direction.”

“So naturally—” Sonny gestured to himself with a slight upturn of his lips and a brief grimace passed across Miguel’s face before he smoothed it out.

“Right,” Miguel replied, drawing out the word just enough to imbue some skepticism in his reply. “It seems our…interests…are more aligned. Our deal is, of course, still on. My word means something.” His tone was firm and proud and his eyes flickered up from his cigar to Sonny. This time Sonny allowed a brief grin to grace his lips.

“I bet they do.” He leaned forward a little in a leer and Miguel just blinked. Pocketing the cigar in a smooth movement Sonny couldn’t even catch, he pushed himself to the edge of the booth.

“As fun as this was, I must be going.” He pushed to his feet and Sonny did the same in response. From the shadows Miguel’s bodyguard Nestor appeared just at his back. Sonny didn’t need to turn to know that his own had done the same. “Next time, we meet in my office. All of this smoke,” Miguel paused to gesture loosely to the increasingly rowdy atmosphere, “is not good for my suits.” He finished buttoning his jacket back up one handed as he took another displeased look around.

Sonny smirked, but nodded and offered his hand. The two men shook hands, a politeness that Sonny took slight advantage of. He held on for just a beat too long and although Miguel’s face remained impassive in the moment, he turned just before he got to the door to look back at Sonny briefly before exiting.

to read the premise / requests are currently closed / to buy me a coffee

[studyshrine7-blog]

WORKSHOP UPDATE … AND A FEW WORDS ON FOOD PHOTOGRAPHY

A few seats left

A first, wonderful early spring workshop is behind us and I must say it’s nice to be back on track, preparing meals, sharing our kitchen, our table, our region. Getting started has prompted me to get organised, to look at the registrations for the upcoming workshops, contact people etc. After doing the math and receiving response from a few people with tentative status, here are the workshops with some (usually very limited) availability this year.

Next week we are headed to Piemonte for a very exciting workshop which is full of lovely people, some returning. So no spaces there.

After that we have the Basque workshop which is pretty full but I had one person postpone so I could add 1-2 people to that workshop. May 16-18

Next is the Summer Wine – some reservations have confirmed they couldn’t come this time so we still have a bit of space there. May 30 – June 1

Then there is the Summer Abundance workshop which was so enormously popular that we added a second, identical workshop the following week. I had turned a lot of people away but then, when the requests kept pouring in we added the second one and some people from the first one even switched dates. So now we have two, quite evenly booked Summer abundance workshops and while I’d be perfectly happy to keep the numbers how they are right now I could still add 1-2 people to each. June 20-22 & June 27-29

There are still some spaces in the Piemonte Photography and wine workshop on September 27 – 29

The Fall Harvest workshop is one of the all time most booked so that one is impossible – we could have filled it up 3 times. I’ve been trying to look at possibilities to add a second one but right now I just can’t find the time for it. October 10-12

The Autumn wine is less booked so close to full but not quite October 24-26

Additionally I’ve been getting many requests for the dates in 2019 so we are looking at that right now and I expect to announce in May or early June.

For all information please email me at [email protected]

Looking forward to hearing from you

Mimi xx

Over to my husband who has a few things to say … about cabbage, onions & co.

Tuesday vegetables and other things

Although Mimi and I both love to eat fresh vegetables we have a distinctively different relationship with them. At the market she’s searching for inspiration, something that catches her eye, something she can bring home and slice up, boil, steam or grill and ultimately make it into something much more delicious than it was in the beginning. It’s a gut feeling – literally. My sole vegetable hunts, which are very frequent are more like casting sessions but practical ones – without a fault the freshest vegetables are also the most eye-catching, what’s in season stands out. I try to look for the really interesting “faces”, not just the shiny rows of monotone soldiers, but the odd fellows, the slightly deformed – the organic boys.

Our vegetable symphony marches on in perfect harmony, the house is always full to the rafters of the freshest produce, from local growers, and in summer, from our garden. The tricky day is Tuesday. Mimi will have cooked all the stuff she bought at the weekend but a lot of mine is still sitting there, getting less pretty by the minute. I often tell people that while I’m most probably a photographer by profession my real job is arranging vegetables. And most of that never gets photographed. I use the word “arrange” loosely as “throw them in” would be more in the spirit of what I do. I don’t believe in over-styling but I do subscribe to elements like chance and luck. Let the carrots fall where they may.

This brings us back to Tuesday. Last Tuesday to be exact. We had some lovely gentlemen coming down from Paris for lunch – they will be our “leather partners” in items such as aprons, dog leashes etc. It’s taken a long time to find the right people – Joseph Bonnie. We were late as we always are and after walking the dogs I had to choose between a shower or my vegetables. They were sitting there in crates, slowly going in the wrong direction of aesthetic pulchritude. The light would not be better later. Tomorrow these veggies would be over the hill of photographable beauty. Certain flowers and vegetables age well. Roses are like that. Tulips are not, not in my opinion anyway. The stalks fade to a yellowish-green that I find unbearable. Apples dry up, lemons (if they’re not radio-active) turn to a powderish green. Celery fades, carrots limp, asparagus shrivels and cherries ferment in rather a beautiful but not in the “I want to eat them” sort of way.

So a long story cut short I threw it all on a table and shot it, even brougth out a camera rather than a phone. The result is not magnificent but it’s fine. Fine enough for Mimi to say “my love (once again I inserted that), I’m giving some workshop updates on the blog – why don’t we post these and perhaps you can write something about them”. So now, while she’s on the roof, looking lovely in a bikini, I’m down here in the green room typing away – I type fast, a result of going to commercial college – they also taught book-keeping but I must have slept through that. Yes, typing away with a Negroni in front of me. Right now it’s about two-thirds down but I’m not even half-finished which is a terrifying though for any “writer”.

There is Champagne in the freezer though, a nice blanc de noirs (meaning white from black, only red grapes, pinot noir or pinot meunier). Yes, freezer because contrary to some wise guy sommeliers who’d love to serve the Champagne almost luke warm so it can properly “express itself” I fervently believe that Champagne should be served ice-cold. For those who’d like it a few degrees warmer, they can just wait a bit, but no Champagne ever got colder by sitting in a glass. The only exception is, that if you have a truly exceptional Champagne, something old, something from a single vineyard that’s hard to get, something so expensive that it feels like a bullet through the heart when the cork shoots through the air. Then, just maybe then, should you not put it in a freezer. And this is just my theory, not a fact – examples of really good Champagnes if you can find them are the ´99 Winston Churchill from Pol Roger, the single vineyards from Jacquesson, Salon is beautiful (but too expensive), anything from Selosse, Egly Ouriet, especially the blanc de noirs I’m in love with – Drappier Brut Nature might be the best buy on the planet – Ulysse Collin is hard to find but worth the search and out of the very big houses I favor Bollinger over anybody. As did James Bond. Like everybody I love Krug but you can find the same quality for less. And yes, Dom Perignon is actually very good. As is Cristal – I love the 2002.

Sorry – got carried away here. We were talking about vegetables. And my brief was food photography. Maybe we should go back to the beginning. My father bought me a good camera when I was about 14, my family is academic and arts were considered a … past time. Lawyers, doctors etc – that what you do for a living. I started law school, well enough I might add (important for my ego to leave that in). But then I realised it wasn’t for me. Some comparative literature (just lovely – Chekhov particularly), jobs in magazines, advertising and ultimately photography. For me it’s always been about the visuals. But I was always interested in people. In portraits. Then I met Mimi who is, as you know, interested in food. Some people might call it an obsession. A healthy one. One day we were having a fairly good coq-au-vin (which is getting to be a rarity in Parisian restaurants), then a crème caramel. We were supposed to shoot the place and I took an overhead shot which in those days was not nearly as fashionable as it is now in the days of iPhones. It’s not a perfect shot but somehow it’s got all the element that define what I do. It’s classic. There’s a trace of the coq-au-vin pot. It’s simple and stylish. The floor is good, there’s a white napkin. I didn’t realize it then but that will always be the most important food picture I’ll ever take. And my style hasn’t changed much since or, which may be regrettable, improved. But none of that really matters, to me what matters is instinct.

I’ve been reading a fine book about my favorite painter, Breakfast with Lucian. It demonstrates that he’s not introspective (which is comical given his family and famous name) but instinctive. Which is what I am too (and it’s very dangerous comparing yourself to a genius because it implies I’m putting us in the same category but I’m not … not yet anyway ha ha – just because I might say I like Champagne Pol Roger like Winston Churchill doesn’t necessarily imply that I think we’re cut from the same cloth, just that a small amount of our tastes and sensiblities are aligned). To me photography is instinct. Which is why I adore dogs. That, however, is another matter and a much longer story.

I’ve included, for your amusement (hopefully) a few other images that in one way or other depict the relationship between people and food. They are from the same time as the overhead food shot of the crème caramel. Food is nothing if nobody ever eats it – the most horrible concept is food photography where the food goes cold and ends up in the bin, maybe with some glossy, inedible oil that was put there for aesthetic purposes. My wife loves a good food picture, but she believes it could be and should be created in the short space between piping hot out of the oven and still hot enough to eat. As a good, Icelandic, soldier I consider it my duty to perfom.

Negroni is gone, even with my best efforts of restraint it just couldn’t hang in there any longer, while I have much to say on this subject, and would love to – my priority is that bottle in the freezer.

Enjoy your weekend, ours will be hot, full of food & wine and most importantly, family and friends.

Source: http://mimithorisson.com/2018/04/20/workshop-update-and-a-few-words-on-food-photography/

[wineanddinosaur]

VinePair Podcast: How Craft Beer Can Thrive in the Pandemic

Covid-19 has presented real challenges for all segments of the alcohol industry, but perhaps the area most dramatically affected has been craft beer. Breweries that largely sold their beer through their own taprooms and other on-premise locations have had to pivot quickly — bottling and canning their beers and attempting to find space on crowded store shelves — while certain styles of beer that rely on extreme freshness have required a bit of rethinking.

That’s the topic for this week’s VinePair Podcast, as Adam Teeter, Erica Duecy, and Zach Geballe take a look at the state of the craft beer industry, discussing how breweries can continue to create communities even with limitations on in-person consumption, as well as other strategies for long-term survival.

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Or check out our conversation here

Adam: From VinePair’s New York City headquarters, I mean my apartment in Brooklyn, New York. I’m Adam Teeter.

Erica: From Jersey City, I’m Erica Duecy.

Zach: And from the satellite campus in Seattle, Washington, I’m Zach Geballe.

A: And this is the VinePair podcast. I really did want to say VinePair’s New York City Headquarters, even though they’re still closed.

Z: I mean, it might as well be the headquarters at this point.

A: No, because that would also be Keith’s apartment, and Josh’s, and Danielle’s, and Erica’s. It would be everybody’s, it’s crazy. There’s one room I’m sitting in in my house that really does feel like it just has been taken over by VinePair, and I think Naomi’s getting really sick of that. I’m really excited about today’s topic but first, as always, we have to shout out to the sponsors. This week’s podcast is brought to you by Wild Turkey 101. Wild Turkey 101 is the high-proof bourbon ideal for enjoying classic cocktails how they were intended to be when they were invented. Aged longer for more character and using the same recipe since 1942, Wild Turkey 101 adds flavor and body to the Old Fashioned, the number one consumer cocktail. Never compromise, drink responsibly. Wild Turkey Kentucky Straight Bourbon whiskey, 50.5-percent ABV, 101 proof, copyright 2020 Campari America, New York, New York. Have to love that legal language at the end. I think Wild Turkey is a pretty delicious bourbon.

E: Yeah, it is good. I agree.

Z: Yeah. We’ve been running some cool “top lists” of whiskeys and Wild Turkey’s one of those, it’s not that expensive, it makes a great cocktail. It’s not, maybe, the thing that I would turn to absolutely first to just sip on its own, but in a cocktail and Old Fashioned — definitely delicious.

A: Wild Turkey 101 makes awesome cocktails. Speaking of drinks, let’s talk about what you guys are drinking this week.

Z: Tied into today’s theme, to some extent, I’ve been drinking a lot of craft beer, but a specific brewery because it fits my inactive lifestyle very well. I interviewed Bill Shufelt, who’s the founder of Athletic Brewing, which has focused on non-alcoholic beers and I’ve been drinking a lot of Free Wave, it’s a double hop IPA. I have tried a lot of non-alc beers running beverage programs, you end up buying and tasting them because at least I took that part of my job seriously, but it’s actually pretty convincingly beer. I find their hoppier styles are more beer, I guess it’s just that delivery of bitterness and aromatics that I appreciate. I’ve been drinking that, it fits that “I need something that’s more interesting to drink than water at 3:30, but I still have to deal with my son when he wakes up from his nap” part of my life.

A: I’m so interested. I have to say you’re now the second person who told me you actually think it’s good. Athletic Brewing, if you’re listening, you can send it to myself and Erica, because I’m super suspect. I’ve listened to their ads on tons of other podcasts, I think, and what I’ve always thought was really interesting is they’ve never really advertised alcohol. I hear them a lot on tech podcasts, “Do you want to get up in the morning and be able to do your presentation? If so, drink Athletic.” And I’ve always wondered if it’s any good. Cat also says it’s very good. I actually feel I need to try it now because you are now the second person who said, “Yeah, it’s not beer, but for a beer replacement it’s very good.”

Z: I would say it’s beer. What’s interesting, I think to me, is where I noticed that it doesn’t have the alcohol is halfway through the beer when I don’t feel any of the buzz. If I’m drinking a double IPA normally, it’s seven, eight, nine-percent alcohol, a lot of times. And by the time I’m halfway through a can or something, I can kind of feel it. It’s sort of weird, I don’t necessarily mind, it’s kind of nice too, to have the beer and not have the effect. But it is true that, as we talk about on this podcast, we do drink alcohol for the effect. And so I’m not saying I’ve given up alcohol, but it is nice. It gives me something more interesting to drink than water or something along those lines, if I’m not ready for it yet, more coffee. It’s a nice kind of alternative in the afternoon. I don’t drink it all day, every day but it’s a nice alternative.

E: Nice. I was really excited yesterday to be on the phone with Heather Green, who is the CEO and master blender of Milam & Greene Whiskey. She is based out of Texas, but they are now working, with a master distiller on their team at Marlene Holmes, who was at Jim Beam for her entire career. Man this whiskey, they just nationally released last night, it’s the Milam & Greene Triple Cask Strength bourbon whiskey, it’s fantastic. I was totally blown away and it’s so cool to see a woman owned and led whiskey company doing such great work. They’re a young company, so they are sourcing some of their juice but they’re also distilling in Texas and Kentucky, as well as finishing other whiskeys. I tried this, it was so smooth and a 94 proof spirit, it had such a kind of presence and depth to the character. I was totally floored.

A: There’s nothing specific that I’m super excited about this week like I was with the Negronis. I will say that over the past week, I’ve drunk a few things. One is, I did go back to Heaven Hill Bourbon, the Seven Year Old, which is a pretty delicious overproof. And I had that last night while watching the debate and cheering on the fly.

Z: Did you drink the whole bottle?

A: No. I think this debate was basically what they’re supposed to be, which is normal. Except that, one of the candidates lied a lot and evaded questions, but besides that, it was a pretty standard debate. There wasn’t as much of a desire for me to feel I needed to just down an entire bottle of bourbon. Also, I think I would not feel great afterwards. And then last weekend — gosh, it’s so weird that with corona it all blends together — I will say I actually had a terrible bottle of wine. I’m not going to name the producer, but I want to talk about what happened. And I want to get your opinion. We were at one of my favorite restaurants. I don’t want to talk about them because I think the food is amazing, I think this was the server’s fault. But it was Naomi’s birthday, and we haven’t been going out, but it was her birthday. We’re going to go out for dinner. We had outdoor seats, all this stuff. And I knew that this restaurant had lost their wine person a long time ago, and that basically it’s a hodgepodge of people buying the wines: The chef, manager, et cetera. And I know because of where we are in Brooklyn, it’s been leaning very dirty, natural — not just natural, but dirty natural. And so there were two wines we were looking at and Naomi said she really wanted a red. Not a bigger red, but something that had some nice acidity that would go really well with all the food, and it was Mediterranean. There was this Pinot Noir from Baden. And so I asked them about that bottle and they were like, “Oh, it’s really funky, totally grungy dirt.” And we say no and ask about this Nero d’Avola and she was like, “Oh, this is perfect. It’s classic Nero d’Avola and is one of our bestselling bottles. It pairs perfectly with all the food.” And I’m like cool. So she basically described the wine as being classic. So the bottle comes out and she pours me a taste. And I literally looked at Naomi and, if I didn’t know that this was natural, I would say that there was something wrong with it. Because it, of course, was natural and it was the dirtiest, just riddled with faults, and it was totally unpleasant to drink. But at this point we were just like whatever, screw it, I don’t know what else to do. And so we drank it. And it was not fun. The faults were so clear, and it was so off-putting that it kind of ruined that part of the meal. There were other parts that were great, we had a really nice glass prior that was delicious, as a way to toast her birthday. But whose misunderstanding was it here? And I didn’t want to get into it with her and say, “Hey, basically you made this sound like this was a totally conventional bottle of wine, but this is actually very dirty and natty and not a good wine, because there are natural wines that I do like but this is definitely not one of them.” And so that’s why we just drank it, because we didn’t know how to handle this situation. And we were just going to take one for the team and drink the wine. And of course when we looked at the import on the back, it was some importer we’d never heard of before based in Bushwick.

E: That’s a challenge. I mean, Zach, from the professional perspective of someone who’s worked on the floor a lot, what would you have recommended?

Z: Oh my God. This whole story made me almost break out in hives. I understand your general approach of “take one for the team,” but as a wine director, nothing can make me sadder than hearing customers talk that way. Especially when you’re out celebrating your wife’s birthday. Obviously these times, most people are not going out all the time. I would have loved for you to have said, “This is not what we’re looking for,” and again, restaurants are different and there are different approaches to this. From a restaurant side, I would just, graciously as I could, take that bottle back and say, “Hey, we get it. We’re saying sorry. Let’s try and find you something else. ”It’s hard for me, because I never ran a program where a lot of the wines we were selling were faulted. So I’m not really familiar with how you convince someone that a wine that’s flawed is good. I just tried to sell good wine. And that’s still a subjective thing, and different people have different tastes, but if a wine had an obvious fault and we opened it, it was of course going back. I was sending it back to the distributor and trying to walk a line there. What I would say is that, yeah maybe the server’s not super knowledgeable, but in the end, if they’re recommending food to you and it sucks — “Oh, we don’t have anything spicy,” and they bring out something that’s loaded with spice — that’s not your fault, you don’t take that one for the team. You don’t have an incrementally unpleasant dining experience because they did a s***** job. No, you tell them, “Look, this is super spicy. We don’t want it. We want something mild.” If you want something super spicy and they bring out something bland as hell that’s not your fault, that’s the server’s fault and the restaurant’s fault. They should be able to communicate to you the basics about the wine program. And if you say, “Hey, we don’t want funky, dirty wine,” either they can say, “Well, unfortunately, we don’t have anything that meets your needs.” You can decide what you want to do then. Or they can bring you a wine that isn’t funky and dirty. I would just say they failed. And I totally understand not wanting to be the person who says “excuse me,” but, all of you listening out there, be the person who says “excuse me.” Restaurants want you to leave happy, not to go on your podcast the next week.

A: True. I mean, there was so much there. We’ve talked about this before, about us realizing what a privilege it is to be dining out, and I was also thinking about the server and how she may not want to be there, but she is. And I’m not going to be the person that does this right now, but it sucked. I get that there is that movement. And now there also is this weird thing where it’s “what can you trust?” Because if it says Nero d’Avola, and it’s from the area where I know it’s going to usually be very good in Sicily, I was going to assume it was what I thought we would want. And when she said it was typical. Do you know what typical narrow Nero d’Avola tastes like? Or have you only tasted very natty ones at this restaurant? Which also then becomes hard, because then you have the issue of what is the word typical? I would say the word typical is what the majority of people would agree is what the grape tastes like. Not what a few people at some super hipster places think the grape tastes like. It was a bummer because even Naomi — she’s the one in the relationship that loves the natural wines more than I do — even she tasted something bad.

Z: And in the end, that’s the problem. That should not be your experience walking away from a drink or a meal, being like, “This was bad.” That’s hopefully not what anyone’s aiming for.

E: That sucks.

A: Let’s talk about the state of craft beer, because it’s craft beer month at VinePair and we’ve devoted a large amount of our content for the month of October to the world of American craft beer — which has been a very exciting world of beverage for quite a long time. Within the last decade, prior to 2020, it was really a massive boom time. Every year, hundreds if not thousands of new craft breweries were opening across the country. But now, it seems that of all three of the areas of alcohol, the one that’s being the most impacted by Covid is craft beer. It also seems, all of a sudden, maybe there’s a little bit less interest in craft beer than they’re used to. So we thought it’d be fun if we chatted about this area, and what we think is really happening in craft beer right now. What’s exciting, and what needs a little bit of a jolt to become more exciting.

E: From my perspective, I will be the first to say that craft beer, or any beer, is not my area of expertise, so where I can help is providing some statistics. According to the IWS, craft beer is down 12 to 15 percent overall for the first half of this year. That is largely because of the many on-premise closures and capacity restrictions. When you think about the different categories, craft beer, especially, is focused on-premise. Bart Watson, the chief economist for the Brewers Association, says on-premise sales account for about 45 percent of craft beer volume before Covid-19, about half. Without that channel, we are seeing the off-premise sales up between 11 and 16 percent, according to Nielsen data, during the Covid affected period. But that doesn’t cancel out the widespread losses from sales at bars and restaurants. That’s kind of the bigger picture that we’re looking at here.And there’s been a lot of challenges for craft brewers who are looking to pivot into canning from what they’ve previously been doing — kegs for example — which is tough, operationally. If you’re not set up for a high volume of canning, you may have to rely on mobile canning lines that may only be available in higher-density areas. Not as much in rural areas. There’s been this ongoing aluminum can shortage. And that existed before the pandemic. But Covid has exacerbated that because of the growing demand for aluminum cans, not just in beer, but also in wine cans, seltzer, et cetera. So those are some of the challenges that craft beer brewers are facing right now.

Z: I think the other thing that goes along with what you’re saying, Erica, is for a lot of craft breweries, especially ones on the very, very small nanoscale, all the way up to the medium-sized craft breweries, much of their profit — not necessarily gross revenue, but profit — comes from a taproom. And in most of the places in the country, the best you’re able to offer is limited capacity, or your taproom was closed for some amount of time, or it’s still closed. You can have some limited outdoor seating, but maybe not nearly as much as what you had before. And every brewer and brewery-owner that I’ve talked to in this period points to this very real fact that the smaller you are, the more dependent you are on that often one location where you’re generating a whole lot of your revenue. And if it’s closed or even limited (and again, maybe people have been okay through the warmer months and as most of the country heads into fall and winter and outdoor seating is a lot more complicated, if it’s even an option), a lot of them are looking at real challenges to the central piece of their model. Along with that, I think is this other real central conceit to craft brewing, which is that for so long, the selling point for craft beer, along with of course the quality of the product, was the convivial nature of beer. We think of beer as this hyper-social beverage, even maybe more so than wine or spirits. And whether it’s in a brewery, at a beer bar, at a tailgate, all these ways of getting together and enjoying beer are greatly curtailed for most of us, if not completely off-limits. And beer may just have a harder time fitting into the existing models for consumption that we have, especially if it’s smaller scale and not readily available at the grocery store or online. You guys can listen to some of the interviews we’ve had and have coming up on the Next Round part of this feed, but there’s lots of interesting things going on where brewers are experimenting with ways to continue to keep that connection with their customers alive. But it’s more challenging, I think, for beer than anyone else.

A: I think this is interesting. Some of the points you’re raising, Zach, reinforce this theory that I have that’s a hot take. I think the biggest trend in craft beer of the past four to five years is the reason craft beer is suffering now. And that trend is the hazy, because for those beers, which are so amazing, freshness is key and limited supply is key. And so when you build a brewery that initially is all built not on distribution to grocery stores — which is where all of us wound up in the pandemic — we reencountered Lagunitas, which some of us hadn’t drunk in decades. Or we reencountered bear Bear Republic, or some of these other OG craft breweries. And if you relied on line culture — people who would be willing on a Saturday or Sunday morning to come and line up at the brewery and wait for the beer and then have that community that we talked about, and you relied on really being very, very vigilant when it came to shelf control (and that’s why a lot of retailers never wanted to stock some of these beers, because a lot of the breweries were actually really hard on the distributor who was really hard on the retail) it means that when a pandemic happens, people aren’t willing to wait in line and you’re not set up to know how to do delivery, because you haven’t had to do that in the past. I think a lot of breweries fell behind because they became known for this style of beer that is absolutely delicious. Cat jokes and says that I’m a “haze bro.” I love hazy beers. I think they’re delicious. But they’re harder to find. At least in the first two to three months, the grocery store that I went to had none of them besides Threes, and Threes is one of the exceptions. Shout out to them, their infrastructure, and the way that they do their business in New York City. A lot of people could learn from them. I think the way that they handle getting the beer still into all the larger retailers is pretty unique. But I think, for the most part, all those other breweries had a very hard time, and now the opposite has happened. Now they all flooded retail. We talked about the beers that we’ve all enjoyed during the pandemic, and Josh was saying he’s gotten to drink beers that he never would have gotten to be able to just walk down to the corner bodega and buy, because he would have had to go to the brewery to get it. And now they’re so desperate to get it into retail, and a lot of them are also being a little bit less vigilant about those “buy on” dates. They’re not as worried anymore that the beer has to be consumed within a week of canning, which is what a lot of people used to think. That was the whole allure of the fresh, hazy IPA. If it wasn’t fresh, that haze diminished — it kind of fell out of the beer. It didn’t have the pillowy mouthfeel everyone was obsessed with. And the fruitiness. All that stuff that made that beer so mind-altering to so many people who had drunk crappier beer for so long. That’s my first hot take. My other hot take is: I think the other thing that happened at craft breweries is a lot of them got into seltzer, and White Claw and Truly kicked their a**. That, again, is a supply issue. And a lot of craft breweries started making seltzer when the breweries were packed to have something else on tap that they could serve to people who didn’t want a ton of these massively high-alcohol beers we talked about at the beginning. How many IPAs can you drink? But now that we’re in a pandemic, White Claw and Truly are everywhere. and this obscure hard seltzer that probably wasn’t that much of a focus for the brewery but helped pay the bills when they were open is not going to be the thing that people reach for. So I think that those things align with everything else you’re saying, it’s just harder for them than for almost anyone else. And no one has figured out how to create this beer that took the beer world by storm as a shelf-stable product yet. Hazy Little Thing really isn’t that. Sierra Nevada says it is, it’s not. The question is this new Dogfish beer that just got announced, which is going to have oat milk in it. It’s the oats that are actually going to make it hazy. Is that going to be it? Because that’s the only way you’re going to recreate these beers without relying on freshness. There’s going to have to be something else chemically that happens that makes them hazy and pillowy and what I refer to as what eggs look like when you add milk to them and you scramble them. I don’t know. It’s going to be interesting. I think it’s going to be tough because that style of beer is what made Other Half famous. It’s what made Grimm famous. I remember, Erica, when we had the staff picnic and I was talking to Jonno, your husband, and he mentioned one of the OGs of that movement, I can’t remember which one it was, but it was one of the beers everyone was excited about.

E: The thing I see more than anything is fruited sours and just fruit beer everywhere. I don’t know how fresh those have to be, though. I’m thinking of the Dogfish Head SeaQuench and all those sorts of beers that have really pronounced fruitiness to them. Do those beers have to be as fresh? What’s the situation there?

A: Not that I know of, but I’m curious what Zach thinks here. I think that sours are polarizing, and I think what was so interesting about the hazys was that they’re incredibly welcoming to almost anyone, it tastes like f***ing orange juice, and that’s why I’ve always been a big IPA fan. I used to think of Racer 5 as one of my top beers. I love that IPA. That beer is amazing. Also Bell’s Two Hearted is an amazing beer but that was a style of IPA that was for people who like bitterness. I could never get Naomi to drink IPAs, but she loves hazys. I think that sours are the same. Naomi loves sours. I’m going to give you guys a little TMI, but I have massive acid reflux. That’s also why I don’t like natural wine. I can’t do it. The Brett inside those beers, I can have one but I could never think that I’d go and invest in a six pack, but I don’t know exactly. What do you think?

Z: I think that it’s really interesting that we’re talking about the freshness of beers because I think, in general, that’s something that even outside of hazys and beers where, especially in the Pacific Northwest, we’re in the midst of fresh hop season and those beers are, again, another thing where you want that beer fresh from the tank, if possible. And if not that then in the can for as little time as possible. But all beer, with the exception of maybe some darker beers that are designed to age, almost all beer benefits from being consumed pretty fresh. One thing that we’re just seeing is that breweries of all scales, but especially on the craft side, are really trying to figure out how to get product in people’s hands. For the most part, you’re not going to go buy a 24 pack of your favorite craft beer. You probably don’t want to drink the same one of those every day or two of them a day for 12 days or whatever. But also the beer just isn’t as good, as enjoyable, at the end of that. One of the challenges that I think that craft brewing has had is the compulsion that people had, especially earlier in the pandemic, to get as much of everything as they can. “I got to pack my house, my apartment, whatever, with everything that I could possibly need.” And I think people have come out of that a little bit, but still there’s that challenge of — if you’re only going to the store once a week, or you’re going to go to a brewery to stock up but you’re not going to go every week, you’re going to go once a month or every two months — you kind of have to find this balance of what is going to be shelf-stable enough to last through that period. I also think with the sours, the other problem for beers is that we are seeing a shift (and again, this is where I come back to the closures or limitations on taprooms, where the current contexts for drinking these beverages is different)m and so one of the reasons why I think the hazy has become so popular. Not just because of what Adam said, or maybe in conjunction with what Adam said about how welcoming it is, it’s also a great beer to just drink by itself. That’s a complete thing unto itself. Whereas, to me, a sour, whether it’s fruited or otherwise, that’s a beer I need to eat something with. The same way that a high-acid wine — I don’t really want to drink those things. I don’t have the same issues with the reflux, but still I don’t want to drink a really high-acid anything without something to go along with it. And so those higher-acid beverages, I think, are more shelf-stable. I would bet just chemically that it has to be part of the problem for a hazy. You don’t have that acid balance to keep the thing fresh. Milk is going to go bad faster than lemonade, just the reality of it. But it’s something that people could revisit, if they haven’t done it in a while, because for those of us who are consuming at home, maybe thinking about having beer with food, that’s where those drinks shine. They’re their brightest in that context, where you can use a meal or snack or something to balance them out. Whereas, I think a hazy or something, you can just crush that, watch Netflix, it doesn’t need anything else to make it enjoyable. I don’t know that it’s something I would say that, necessarily, I’m going to go back to some of the beers that I used to drink as much. But that is where I think really bitter IPAs and sours, those more extreme ends could perhaps come back and do a little bit of prominence. Because I think they’re both more shelf-stable and they’re also more enjoyable in the setting that most of us are consuming things: At home, with a meal or snacks.

A: I think that there’s the same craft beers kind of really influx right now because I really feel even two or three years ago, maybe even a year ago, it was the area of alcohol that a lot people would have said was the most exciting. It was working on becoming more open — it still was predominantly beer bros, but it was working on becoming more open. There was an accessibility, at least when it came to people who were drinking, that it felt people would get into it more easily than other areas of the drinks world. The branding was always really interesting. A lot of people I’ve talked to think that now a lot of those natural wine labels were influenced by craft beer. And a lot of wine people want to have their cool craft beer area of the wine world. I think everything we’ve said here is true. The business model, that’s the gray, it’s just suffering more than any other area of alcohol I can’t think of. I love craft cocktail bars. But those aren’t, to me, a third space. I can’t sit at a craft cocktail bar and pay $15 a drink for very long. Whereas you can sit at a brewery all day and have $6 to $8 pints and have a great time. And usually there’s a food truck. And the same for wine bars. I know there’s a lot of them, but are they really a place that you’re going to just hang out with your buddies and catch up in the same way? Probably not. And wine, to me, has always been much more of a restaurant thing or an at-home thing, which is what I drink most often. I think that’s what it is. And it’s sad, because I think it’s going to take longer for it to come back than the others. It’s just not going to be as quick as everything else.

E: I agree. I’ll just put in one little fact here, which I found interesting, as of June 30th there were 8,217 active craft breweries in the U.S. That was up 100 percent from a year ago. It takes a lot of time to open a brewery, several years, People are still opening. But what I found interesting was that between Q2 and Q3 of this year, there were still 219 new brewery permit applications. It’s the slowest amount of growth in 11 quarters, but it’s still growing. So I think people still see craft beer as a possible area where they can make money, or maybe it’s all the people in finance who’ve said, “Screw it, I’m done here and I’m just going to go open a brewery.”

Z: I will say my one bit of silver lining for this whole conversation is that statistics say that homebrewing has taken off again in a big way during the pandemic. I do think that one cool possibility coming out of this is that you will have had a lot of people who either had more time to do homebrewing or took it up for the first time. And I mean, again, homebrewing is where the craft beer movement was born. It’s still how it mostly gets its start. Many people who start breweries start out by brewing at home. It’s relatively easy to do that. Adam, you have personal experience, and I think in general it’s certainly possible that when we’re talking to brewers five or 10 years from now and how they got started, a lot of them probably will say, “During Covid, I decided to take the plunge: I’m going to try homebrewing. I’m going to give it a shot.” And from this opportunity, maybe some of the great breweries of the 2020s will be born.

A: That’s actually really true. I’m not going to open a sourdough bakery, but I could. And seriously, Erica, I’ll let you plug it. We got a great homebrewing column, guys.

E: It’s a really wonderful column. If you haven’t checked it out it’s called BIY: Brew It Yourself, and Mandy Naglich, she is a pro home brewer. It’s a really highly read column so people seem to be engaged. It’s been growing during the pandemic. So I think there’s a lot of interest in people saying “I’ve graduated from sourdough. Let me try homebrewing.”

A: Yeah. And she even has a column where she writes about how to make a hazy, which I thought was really interesting because it’s actually going to teach you how to do that. I never, when I was brewing, thought I could have attempted that. But I think it shows people are willing to try these things. I think you’re very much going to be right there, Zach. I think we’re going to have a lot of breweries that open up, and when you ask why, they’re going to say, “We left whatever city we lived in, we moved to this place, we got more space, we started homebrewing, and we realized ‘Oh, this will be a nice life.’” And they opened. I can totally see that.

E: Yeah. Me, too.

A: Well, guys, this has been another amazing conversation, as always. I think every time we talk this stuff out, we go into it thinking, “Okay, is this going to be something that should be all doom and gloom?” And then I come out and I feel really positive about everything. Thank you guys very much.

Z: Just here to brighten your day.

A: Thanks, guys. Well for everyone listening, we’re here to brighten your day as well, which is why we’d love you to leave us a review, tell your friends, rate us on iTunes, Spotify, wherever you get your podcasts. It definitely helps other people discover the show. Erica, Zach, I’ll see you right back here next week.

E: Talk to you then.

Z: Sounds great.

A: Before we officially go, a word from the sponsor of this week’s podcast, Wild Turkey 101. Wild Turkey 101 is the high-proof bourbon ideal for enjoying classic cocktails how they were intended to be when they were invented. Aged longer for more character and using the same recipe since 1942, Wild Turkey 101 adds flavor and body to the Old Fashioned, the number one consumer cocktail. Never compromise, drink responsibly. Wild Turkey Kentucky Straight Bourbon whiskey, 50.5-percent ABV, 101 proof, copyright 2020 Campari America, New York, New York.

Thanks so much for listening to the VinePair Podcast. If you enjoy listening to us every week, please leave us a review or rating on iTunes, Stitcher, Spotify, or wherever it is that you get your podcasts. It really helps everyone else discover the show. Now, for the credits. VinePair is produced and hosted by Zach Geballe, Erica Duecy and me: Adam Teeter. Our engineer is Nick Patri and Keith Beavers. I’d also like to give a special shout out to my VinePair co-founder Josh Malin and the rest of the VinePair team for their support. Thanks so much for listening and we’ll see you again right here next week.

Ed. note: This episode has been edited for length and clarity.

The article VinePair Podcast: How Craft Beer Can Thrive in the Pandemic appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/podcast-craft-beer-pandemic/

[johnboothus]

VinePair Podcast: How Craft Beer Can Thrive in the Pandemic

Covid-19 has presented real challenges for all segments of the alcohol industry, but perhaps the area most dramatically affected has been craft beer. Breweries that largely sold their beer through their own taprooms and other on-premise locations have had to pivot quickly — bottling and canning their beers and attempting to find space on crowded store shelves — while certain styles of beer that rely on extreme freshness have required a bit of rethinking.

That’s the topic for this week’s VinePair Podcast, as Adam Teeter, Erica Duecy, and Zach Geballe take a look at the state of the craft beer industry, discussing how breweries can continue to create communities even with limitations on in-person consumption, as well as other strategies for long-term survival.

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Adam: From VinePair’s New York City headquarters, I mean my apartment in Brooklyn, New York. I’m Adam Teeter.

Erica: From Jersey City, I’m Erica Duecy.

Zach: And from the satellite campus in Seattle, Washington, I’m Zach Geballe.

A: And this is the VinePair podcast. I really did want to say VinePair’s New York City Headquarters, even though they’re still closed.

Z: I mean, it might as well be the headquarters at this point.

A: No, because that would also be Keith’s apartment, and Josh’s, and Danielle’s, and Erica’s. It would be everybody’s, it’s crazy. There’s one room I’m sitting in in my house that really does feel like it just has been taken over by VinePair, and I think Naomi’s getting really sick of that. I’m really excited about today’s topic but first, as always, we have to shout out to the sponsors. This week’s podcast is brought to you by Wild Turkey 101. Wild Turkey 101 is the high-proof bourbon ideal for enjoying classic cocktails how they were intended to be when they were invented. Aged longer for more character and using the same recipe since 1942, Wild Turkey 101 adds flavor and body to the Old Fashioned, the number one consumer cocktail. Never compromise, drink responsibly. Wild Turkey Kentucky Straight Bourbon whiskey, 50.5-percent ABV, 101 proof, copyright 2020 Campari America, New York, New York. Have to love that legal language at the end. I think Wild Turkey is a pretty delicious bourbon.

E: Yeah, it is good. I agree.

Z: Yeah. We’ve been running some cool “top lists” of whiskeys and Wild Turkey’s one of those, it’s not that expensive, it makes a great cocktail. It’s not, maybe, the thing that I would turn to absolutely first to just sip on its own, but in a cocktail and Old Fashioned — definitely delicious.

A: Wild Turkey 101 makes awesome cocktails. Speaking of drinks, let’s talk about what you guys are drinking this week.

Z: Tied into today’s theme, to some extent, I’ve been drinking a lot of craft beer, but a specific brewery because it fits my inactive lifestyle very well. I interviewed Bill Shufelt, who’s the founder of Athletic Brewing, which has focused on non-alcoholic beers and I’ve been drinking a lot of Free Wave, it’s a double hop IPA. I have tried a lot of non-alc beers running beverage programs, you end up buying and tasting them because at least I took that part of my job seriously, but it’s actually pretty convincingly beer. I find their hoppier styles are more beer, I guess it’s just that delivery of bitterness and aromatics that I appreciate. I’ve been drinking that, it fits that “I need something that’s more interesting to drink than water at 3:30, but I still have to deal with my son when he wakes up from his nap” part of my life.

A: I’m so interested. I have to say you’re now the second person who told me you actually think it’s good. Athletic Brewing, if you’re listening, you can send it to myself and Erica, because I’m super suspect. I’ve listened to their ads on tons of other podcasts, I think, and what I’ve always thought was really interesting is they’ve never really advertised alcohol. I hear them a lot on tech podcasts, “Do you want to get up in the morning and be able to do your presentation? If so, drink Athletic.” And I’ve always wondered if it’s any good. Cat also says it’s very good. I actually feel I need to try it now because you are now the second person who said, “Yeah, it’s not beer, but for a beer replacement it’s very good.”

Z: I would say it’s beer. What’s interesting, I think to me, is where I noticed that it doesn’t have the alcohol is halfway through the beer when I don’t feel any of the buzz. If I’m drinking a double IPA normally, it’s seven, eight, nine-percent alcohol, a lot of times. And by the time I’m halfway through a can or something, I can kind of feel it. It’s sort of weird, I don’t necessarily mind, it’s kind of nice too, to have the beer and not have the effect. But it is true that, as we talk about on this podcast, we do drink alcohol for the effect. And so I’m not saying I’ve given up alcohol, but it is nice. It gives me something more interesting to drink than water or something along those lines, if I’m not ready for it yet, more coffee. It’s a nice kind of alternative in the afternoon. I don’t drink it all day, every day but it’s a nice alternative.

E: Nice. I was really excited yesterday to be on the phone with Heather Green, who is the CEO and master blender of Milam & Greene Whiskey. She is based out of Texas, but they are now working, with a master distiller on their team at Marlene Holmes, who was at Jim Beam for her entire career. Man this whiskey, they just nationally released last night, it’s the Milam & Greene Triple Cask Strength bourbon whiskey, it’s fantastic. I was totally blown away and it’s so cool to see a woman owned and led whiskey company doing such great work. They’re a young company, so they are sourcing some of their juice but they’re also distilling in Texas and Kentucky, as well as finishing other whiskeys. I tried this, it was so smooth and a 94 proof spirit, it had such a kind of presence and depth to the character. I was totally floored.

A: There’s nothing specific that I’m super excited about this week like I was with the Negronis. I will say that over the past week, I’ve drunk a few things. One is, I did go back to Heaven Hill Bourbon, the Seven Year Old, which is a pretty delicious overproof. And I had that last night while watching the debate and cheering on the fly.

Z: Did you drink the whole bottle?

A: No. I think this debate was basically what they’re supposed to be, which is normal. Except that, one of the candidates lied a lot and evaded questions, but besides that, it was a pretty standard debate. There wasn’t as much of a desire for me to feel I needed to just down an entire bottle of bourbon. Also, I think I would not feel great afterwards. And then last weekend — gosh, it’s so weird that with corona it all blends together — I will say I actually had a terrible bottle of wine. I’m not going to name the producer, but I want to talk about what happened. And I want to get your opinion. We were at one of my favorite restaurants. I don’t want to talk about them because I think the food is amazing, I think this was the server’s fault. But it was Naomi’s birthday, and we haven’t been going out, but it was her birthday. We’re going to go out for dinner. We had outdoor seats, all this stuff. And I knew that this restaurant had lost their wine person a long time ago, and that basically it’s a hodgepodge of people buying the wines: The chef, manager, et cetera. And I know because of where we are in Brooklyn, it’s been leaning very dirty, natural — not just natural, but dirty natural. And so there were two wines we were looking at and Naomi said she really wanted a red. Not a bigger red, but something that had some nice acidity that would go really well with all the food, and it was Mediterranean. There was this Pinot Noir from Baden. And so I asked them about that bottle and they were like, “Oh, it’s really funky, totally grungy dirt.” And we say no and ask about this Nero d’Avola and she was like, “Oh, this is perfect. It’s classic Nero d’Avola and is one of our bestselling bottles. It pairs perfectly with all the food.” And I’m like cool. So she basically described the wine as being classic. So the bottle comes out and she pours me a taste. And I literally looked at Naomi and, if I didn’t know that this was natural, I would say that there was something wrong with it. Because it, of course, was natural and it was the dirtiest, just riddled with faults, and it was totally unpleasant to drink. But at this point we were just like whatever, screw it, I don’t know what else to do. And so we drank it. And it was not fun. The faults were so clear, and it was so off-putting that it kind of ruined that part of the meal. There were other parts that were great, we had a really nice glass prior that was delicious, as a way to toast her birthday. But whose misunderstanding was it here? And I didn’t want to get into it with her and say, “Hey, basically you made this sound like this was a totally conventional bottle of wine, but this is actually very dirty and natty and not a good wine, because there are natural wines that I do like but this is definitely not one of them.” And so that’s why we just drank it, because we didn’t know how to handle this situation. And we were just going to take one for the team and drink the wine. And of course when we looked at the import on the back, it was some importer we’d never heard of before based in Bushwick.

E: That’s a challenge. I mean, Zach, from the professional perspective of someone who’s worked on the floor a lot, what would you have recommended?

Z: Oh my God. This whole story made me almost break out in hives. I understand your general approach of “take one for the team,” but as a wine director, nothing can make me sadder than hearing customers talk that way. Especially when you’re out celebrating your wife’s birthday. Obviously these times, most people are not going out all the time. I would have loved for you to have said, “This is not what we’re looking for,” and again, restaurants are different and there are different approaches to this. From a restaurant side, I would just, graciously as I could, take that bottle back and say, “Hey, we get it. We’re saying sorry. Let’s try and find you something else. ”It’s hard for me, because I never ran a program where a lot of the wines we were selling were faulted. So I’m not really familiar with how you convince someone that a wine that’s flawed is good. I just tried to sell good wine. And that’s still a subjective thing, and different people have different tastes, but if a wine had an obvious fault and we opened it, it was of course going back. I was sending it back to the distributor and trying to walk a line there. What I would say is that, yeah maybe the server’s not super knowledgeable, but in the end, if they’re recommending food to you and it sucks — “Oh, we don’t have anything spicy,” and they bring out something that’s loaded with spice — that’s not your fault, you don’t take that one for the team. You don’t have an incrementally unpleasant dining experience because they did a s***** job. No, you tell them, “Look, this is super spicy. We don’t want it. We want something mild.” If you want something super spicy and they bring out something bland as hell that’s not your fault, that’s the server’s fault and the restaurant’s fault. They should be able to communicate to you the basics about the wine program. And if you say, “Hey, we don’t want funky, dirty wine,” either they can say, “Well, unfortunately, we don’t have anything that meets your needs.” You can decide what you want to do then. Or they can bring you a wine that isn’t funky and dirty. I would just say they failed. And I totally understand not wanting to be the person who says “excuse me,” but, all of you listening out there, be the person who says “excuse me.” Restaurants want you to leave happy, not to go on your podcast the next week.

A: True. I mean, there was so much there. We’ve talked about this before, about us realizing what a privilege it is to be dining out, and I was also thinking about the server and how she may not want to be there, but she is. And I’m not going to be the person that does this right now, but it sucked. I get that there is that movement. And now there also is this weird thing where it’s “what can you trust?” Because if it says Nero d’Avola, and it’s from the area where I know it’s going to usually be very good in Sicily, I was going to assume it was what I thought we would want. And when she said it was typical. Do you know what typical narrow Nero d’Avola tastes like? Or have you only tasted very natty ones at this restaurant? Which also then becomes hard, because then you have the issue of what is the word typical? I would say the word typical is what the majority of people would agree is what the grape tastes like. Not what a few people at some super hipster places think the grape tastes like. It was a bummer because even Naomi — she’s the one in the relationship that loves the natural wines more than I do — even she tasted something bad.

Z: And in the end, that’s the problem. That should not be your experience walking away from a drink or a meal, being like, “This was bad.” That’s hopefully not what anyone’s aiming for.

E: That sucks.

A: Let’s talk about the state of craft beer, because it’s craft beer month at VinePair and we’ve devoted a large amount of our content for the month of October to the world of American craft beer — which has been a very exciting world of beverage for quite a long time. Within the last decade, prior to 2020, it was really a massive boom time. Every year, hundreds if not thousands of new craft breweries were opening across the country. But now, it seems that of all three of the areas of alcohol, the one that’s being the most impacted by Covid is craft beer. It also seems, all of a sudden, maybe there’s a little bit less interest in craft beer than they’re used to. So we thought it’d be fun if we chatted about this area, and what we think is really happening in craft beer right now. What’s exciting, and what needs a little bit of a jolt to become more exciting.

E: From my perspective, I will be the first to say that craft beer, or any beer, is not my area of expertise, so where I can help is providing some statistics. According to the IWS, craft beer is down 12 to 15 percent overall for the first half of this year. That is largely because of the many on-premise closures and capacity restrictions. When you think about the different categories, craft beer, especially, is focused on-premise. Bart Watson, the chief economist for the Brewers Association, says on-premise sales account for about 45 percent of craft beer volume before Covid-19, about half. Without that channel, we are seeing the off-premise sales up between 11 and 16 percent, according to Nielsen data, during the Covid affected period. But that doesn’t cancel out the widespread losses from sales at bars and restaurants. That’s kind of the bigger picture that we’re looking at here.And there’s been a lot of challenges for craft brewers who are looking to pivot into canning from what they’ve previously been doing — kegs for example — which is tough, operationally. If you’re not set up for a high volume of canning, you may have to rely on mobile canning lines that may only be available in higher-density areas. Not as much in rural areas. There’s been this ongoing aluminum can shortage. And that existed before the pandemic. But Covid has exacerbated that because of the growing demand for aluminum cans, not just in beer, but also in wine cans, seltzer, et cetera. So those are some of the challenges that craft beer brewers are facing right now.

Z: I think the other thing that goes along with what you’re saying, Erica, is for a lot of craft breweries, especially ones on the very, very small nanoscale, all the way up to the medium-sized craft breweries, much of their profit — not necessarily gross revenue, but profit — comes from a taproom. And in most of the places in the country, the best you’re able to offer is limited capacity, or your taproom was closed for some amount of time, or it’s still closed. You can have some limited outdoor seating, but maybe not nearly as much as what you had before. And every brewer and brewery-owner that I’ve talked to in this period points to this very real fact that the smaller you are, the more dependent you are on that often one location where you’re generating a whole lot of your revenue. And if it’s closed or even limited (and again, maybe people have been okay through the warmer months and as most of the country heads into fall and winter and outdoor seating is a lot more complicated, if it’s even an option), a lot of them are looking at real challenges to the central piece of their model. Along with that, I think is this other real central conceit to craft brewing, which is that for so long, the selling point for craft beer, along with of course the quality of the product, was the convivial nature of beer. We think of beer as this hyper-social beverage, even maybe more so than wine or spirits. And whether it’s in a brewery, at a beer bar, at a tailgate, all these ways of getting together and enjoying beer are greatly curtailed for most of us, if not completely off-limits. And beer may just have a harder time fitting into the existing models for consumption that we have, especially if it’s smaller scale and not readily available at the grocery store or online. You guys can listen to some of the interviews we’ve had and have coming up on the Next Round part of this feed, but there’s lots of interesting things going on where brewers are experimenting with ways to continue to keep that connection with their customers alive. But it’s more challenging, I think, for beer than anyone else.

A: I think this is interesting. Some of the points you’re raising, Zach, reinforce this theory that I have that’s a hot take. I think the biggest trend in craft beer of the past four to five years is the reason craft beer is suffering now. And that trend is the hazy, because for those beers, which are so amazing, freshness is key and limited supply is key. And so when you build a brewery that initially is all built not on distribution to grocery stores — which is where all of us wound up in the pandemic — we reencountered Lagunitas, which some of us hadn’t drunk in decades. Or we reencountered bear Bear Republic, or some of these other OG craft breweries. And if you relied on line culture — people who would be willing on a Saturday or Sunday morning to come and line up at the brewery and wait for the beer and then have that community that we talked about, and you relied on really being very, very vigilant when it came to shelf control (and that’s why a lot of retailers never wanted to stock some of these beers, because a lot of the breweries were actually really hard on the distributor who was really hard on the retail) it means that when a pandemic happens, people aren’t willing to wait in line and you’re not set up to know how to do delivery, because you haven’t had to do that in the past. I think a lot of breweries fell behind because they became known for this style of beer that is absolutely delicious. Cat jokes and says that I’m a “haze bro.” I love hazy beers. I think they’re delicious. But they’re harder to find. At least in the first two to three months, the grocery store that I went to had none of them besides Threes, and Threes is one of the exceptions. Shout out to them, their infrastructure, and the way that they do their business in New York City. A lot of people could learn from them. I think the way that they handle getting the beer still into all the larger retailers is pretty unique. But I think, for the most part, all those other breweries had a very hard time, and now the opposite has happened. Now they all flooded retail. We talked about the beers that we’ve all enjoyed during the pandemic, and Josh was saying he’s gotten to drink beers that he never would have gotten to be able to just walk down to the corner bodega and buy, because he would have had to go to the brewery to get it. And now they’re so desperate to get it into retail, and a lot of them are also being a little bit less vigilant about those “buy on” dates. They’re not as worried anymore that the beer has to be consumed within a week of canning, which is what a lot of people used to think. That was the whole allure of the fresh, hazy IPA. If it wasn’t fresh, that haze diminished — it kind of fell out of the beer. It didn’t have the pillowy mouthfeel everyone was obsessed with. And the fruitiness. All that stuff that made that beer so mind-altering to so many people who had drunk crappier beer for so long. That’s my first hot take. My other hot take is: I think the other thing that happened at craft breweries is a lot of them got into seltzer, and White Claw and Truly kicked their a**. That, again, is a supply issue. And a lot of craft breweries started making seltzer when the breweries were packed to have something else on tap that they could serve to people who didn’t want a ton of these massively high-alcohol beers we talked about at the beginning. How many IPAs can you drink? But now that we’re in a pandemic, White Claw and Truly are everywhere. and this obscure hard seltzer that probably wasn’t that much of a focus for the brewery but helped pay the bills when they were open is not going to be the thing that people reach for. So I think that those things align with everything else you’re saying, it’s just harder for them than for almost anyone else. And no one has figured out how to create this beer that took the beer world by storm as a shelf-stable product yet. Hazy Little Thing really isn’t that. Sierra Nevada says it is, it’s not. The question is this new Dogfish beer that just got announced, which is going to have oat milk in it. It’s the oats that are actually going to make it hazy. Is that going to be it? Because that’s the only way you’re going to recreate these beers without relying on freshness. There’s going to have to be something else chemically that happens that makes them hazy and pillowy and what I refer to as what eggs look like when you add milk to them and you scramble them. I don’t know. It’s going to be interesting. I think it’s going to be tough because that style of beer is what made Other Half famous. It’s what made Grimm famous. I remember, Erica, when we had the staff picnic and I was talking to Jonno, your husband, and he mentioned one of the OGs of that movement, I can’t remember which one it was, but it was one of the beers everyone was excited about.

E: The thing I see more than anything is fruited sours and just fruit beer everywhere. I don’t know how fresh those have to be, though. I’m thinking of the Dogfish Head SeaQuench and all those sorts of beers that have really pronounced fruitiness to them. Do those beers have to be as fresh? What’s the situation there?

A: Not that I know of, but I’m curious what Zach thinks here. I think that sours are polarizing, and I think what was so interesting about the hazys was that they’re incredibly welcoming to almost anyone, it tastes like f***ing orange juice, and that’s why I’ve always been a big IPA fan. I used to think of Racer 5 as one of my top beers. I love that IPA. That beer is amazing. Also Bell’s Two Hearted is an amazing beer but that was a style of IPA that was for people who like bitterness. I could never get Naomi to drink IPAs, but she loves hazys. I think that sours are the same. Naomi loves sours. I’m going to give you guys a little TMI, but I have massive acid reflux. That’s also why I don’t like natural wine. I can’t do it. The Brett inside those beers, I can have one but I could never think that I’d go and invest in a six pack, but I don’t know exactly. What do you think?

Z: I think that it’s really interesting that we’re talking about the freshness of beers because I think, in general, that’s something that even outside of hazys and beers where, especially in the Pacific Northwest, we’re in the midst of fresh hop season and those beers are, again, another thing where you want that beer fresh from the tank, if possible. And if not that then in the can for as little time as possible. But all beer, with the exception of maybe some darker beers that are designed to age, almost all beer benefits from being consumed pretty fresh. One thing that we’re just seeing is that breweries of all scales, but especially on the craft side, are really trying to figure out how to get product in people’s hands. For the most part, you’re not going to go buy a 24 pack of your favorite craft beer. You probably don’t want to drink the same one of those every day or two of them a day for 12 days or whatever. But also the beer just isn’t as good, as enjoyable, at the end of that. One of the challenges that I think that craft brewing has had is the compulsion that people had, especially earlier in the pandemic, to get as much of everything as they can. “I got to pack my house, my apartment, whatever, with everything that I could possibly need.” And I think people have come out of that a little bit, but still there’s that challenge of — if you’re only going to the store once a week, or you’re going to go to a brewery to stock up but you’re not going to go every week, you’re going to go once a month or every two months — you kind of have to find this balance of what is going to be shelf-stable enough to last through that period. I also think with the sours, the other problem for beers is that we are seeing a shift (and again, this is where I come back to the closures or limitations on taprooms, where the current contexts for drinking these beverages is different)m and so one of the reasons why I think the hazy has become so popular. Not just because of what Adam said, or maybe in conjunction with what Adam said about how welcoming it is, it’s also a great beer to just drink by itself. That’s a complete thing unto itself. Whereas, to me, a sour, whether it’s fruited or otherwise, that’s a beer I need to eat something with. The same way that a high-acid wine — I don’t really want to drink those things. I don’t have the same issues with the reflux, but still I don’t want to drink a really high-acid anything without something to go along with it. And so those higher-acid beverages, I think, are more shelf-stable. I would bet just chemically that it has to be part of the problem for a hazy. You don’t have that acid balance to keep the thing fresh. Milk is going to go bad faster than lemonade, just the reality of it. But it’s something that people could revisit, if they haven’t done it in a while, because for those of us who are consuming at home, maybe thinking about having beer with food, that’s where those drinks shine. They’re their brightest in that context, where you can use a meal or snack or something to balance them out. Whereas, I think a hazy or something, you can just crush that, watch Netflix, it doesn’t need anything else to make it enjoyable. I don’t know that it’s something I would say that, necessarily, I’m going to go back to some of the beers that I used to drink as much. But that is where I think really bitter IPAs and sours, those more extreme ends could perhaps come back and do a little bit of prominence. Because I think they’re both more shelf-stable and they’re also more enjoyable in the setting that most of us are consuming things: At home, with a meal or snacks.

A: I think that there’s the same craft beers kind of really influx right now because I really feel even two or three years ago, maybe even a year ago, it was the area of alcohol that a lot people would have said was the most exciting. It was working on becoming more open — it still was predominantly beer bros, but it was working on becoming more open. There was an accessibility, at least when it came to people who were drinking, that it felt people would get into it more easily than other areas of the drinks world. The branding was always really interesting. A lot of people I’ve talked to think that now a lot of those natural wine labels were influenced by craft beer. And a lot of wine people want to have their cool craft beer area of the wine world. I think everything we’ve said here is true. The business model, that’s the gray, it’s just suffering more than any other area of alcohol I can’t think of. I love craft cocktail bars. But those aren’t, to me, a third space. I can’t sit at a craft cocktail bar and pay $15 a drink for very long. Whereas you can sit at a brewery all day and have $6 to $8 pints and have a great time. And usually there’s a food truck. And the same for wine bars. I know there’s a lot of them, but are they really a place that you’re going to just hang out with your buddies and catch up in the same way? Probably not. And wine, to me, has always been much more of a restaurant thing or an at-home thing, which is what I drink most often. I think that’s what it is. And it’s sad, because I think it’s going to take longer for it to come back than the others. It’s just not going to be as quick as everything else.

E: I agree. I’ll just put in one little fact here, which I found interesting, as of June 30th there were 8,217 active craft breweries in the U.S. That was up 100 percent from a year ago. It takes a lot of time to open a brewery, several years, People are still opening. But what I found interesting was that between Q2 and Q3 of this year, there were still 219 new brewery permit applications. It’s the slowest amount of growth in 11 quarters, but it’s still growing. So I think people still see craft beer as a possible area where they can make money, or maybe it’s all the people in finance who’ve said, “Screw it, I’m done here and I’m just going to go open a brewery.”

Z: I will say my one bit of silver lining for this whole conversation is that statistics say that homebrewing has taken off again in a big way during the pandemic. I do think that one cool possibility coming out of this is that you will have had a lot of people who either had more time to do homebrewing or took it up for the first time. And I mean, again, homebrewing is where the craft beer movement was born. It’s still how it mostly gets its start. Many people who start breweries start out by brewing at home. It’s relatively easy to do that. Adam, you have personal experience, and I think in general it’s certainly possible that when we’re talking to brewers five or 10 years from now and how they got started, a lot of them probably will say, “During Covid, I decided to take the plunge: I’m going to try homebrewing. I’m going to give it a shot.” And from this opportunity, maybe some of the great breweries of the 2020s will be born.

A: That’s actually really true. I’m not going to open a sourdough bakery, but I could. And seriously, Erica, I’ll let you plug it. We got a great homebrewing column, guys.

E: It’s a really wonderful column. If you haven’t checked it out it’s called BIY: Brew It Yourself, and Mandy Naglich, she is a pro home brewer. It’s a really highly read column so people seem to be engaged. It’s been growing during the pandemic. So I think there’s a lot of interest in people saying “I’ve graduated from sourdough. Let me try homebrewing.”

A: Yeah. And she even has a column where she writes about how to make a hazy, which I thought was really interesting because it’s actually going to teach you how to do that. I never, when I was brewing, thought I could have attempted that. But I think it shows people are willing to try these things. I think you’re very much going to be right there, Zach. I think we’re going to have a lot of breweries that open up, and when you ask why, they’re going to say, “We left whatever city we lived in, we moved to this place, we got more space, we started homebrewing, and we realized ‘Oh, this will be a nice life.’” And they opened. I can totally see that.

E: Yeah. Me, too.

A: Well, guys, this has been another amazing conversation, as always. I think every time we talk this stuff out, we go into it thinking, “Okay, is this going to be something that should be all doom and gloom?” And then I come out and I feel really positive about everything. Thank you guys very much.

Z: Just here to brighten your day.

A: Thanks, guys. Well for everyone listening, we’re here to brighten your day as well, which is why we’d love you to leave us a review, tell your friends, rate us on iTunes, Spotify, wherever you get your podcasts. It definitely helps other people discover the show. Erica, Zach, I’ll see you right back here next week.

E: Talk to you then.

Z: Sounds great.

A: Before we officially go, a word from the sponsor of this week’s podcast, Wild Turkey 101. Wild Turkey 101 is the high-proof bourbon ideal for enjoying classic cocktails how they were intended to be when they were invented. Aged longer for more character and using the same recipe since 1942, Wild Turkey 101 adds flavor and body to the Old Fashioned, the number one consumer cocktail. Never compromise, drink responsibly. Wild Turkey Kentucky Straight Bourbon whiskey, 50.5-percent ABV, 101 proof, copyright 2020 Campari America, New York, New York.

Thanks so much for listening to the VinePair Podcast. If you enjoy listening to us every week, please leave us a review or rating on iTunes, Stitcher, Spotify, or wherever it is that you get your podcasts. It really helps everyone else discover the show. Now, for the credits. VinePair is produced and hosted by Zach Geballe, Erica Duecy and me: Adam Teeter. Our engineer is Nick Patri and Keith Beavers. I’d also like to give a special shout out to my VinePair co-founder Josh Malin and the rest of the VinePair team for their support. Thanks so much for listening and we’ll see you again right here next week.

Ed. note: This episode has been edited for length and clarity.

The article VinePair Podcast: How Craft Beer Can Thrive in the Pandemic appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/podcast-craft-beer-pandemic/

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[easyfoodnetwork]

Here’s What Eating Out Might Look Like When Restaurants Reopen

Expats gather outside bars and restaurants on Peel street in Soho

Masks, temperature checks, and awkward bar vibes — one writer’s recent night out in Hong Kong could be a glimpse at America’s future

On a recent Friday night in Hong Kong, two police vans idled outside an upscale Italian restaurant on Wyndham Street. Only a few months earlier, their presence might have been an ominous sign that a unit of anti-protest riot cops was in the area, tear gas and pepper spray at the ready. But as is the case for much of daily life here since January, Hong Kong has moved from a state of protest to pandemic, and that night, instead of an armed “raptor” force wearing dark green fatigues and gas masks, the vans discharged a group of what looked like ordinary patrolmen in simple short-sleeve uniforms and surgical masks.

The officers had mustered in one of the city’s busiest nightlife districts to enforce the local government’s ongoing social distancing measures in response to COVID-19, many of which were first announced in late March. They stood outside on the sidewalk like nuns chaperoning a Catholic school dance, armed with rulers, ready to stalk the floor and push guests apart to “make room for the Holy Spirit.” Except in this case the school gymnasium was a bar full of consenting adults, the rulers were rolls of measuring tape, and the Holy Spirit, I assume, was the distance required for gravity to pull down tiny drops of spittle from the air between us.

As cities and states across the U.S. begin to float possible dates for reopening the closed sectors of their economies, many diners and hospitality industry leaders are asking what that next phase might look like for restaurants. Because Hong Kong — along with other Asian cities like Seoul and Taipei — has largely succeeded in controlling outbreaks, and allowed its restaurants to stay open throughout the pandemic, some are asking if the present state of dining here could be a glimpse at the future for America.

Can diners in Taipei, Hong Kong, Korea, China send me photos of what it looks like in restaurants. How the seating is set up? Are all the servers wearing masks and gloves. What are guests wearing? If anyone works in kitchens how are you dealing w new protocol?

— Dave Chang (@davidchang) April 16, 2020

And so, with the number of newly reported COVID-19 cases in Hong Kong staying firmly in single digits over the preceding few days, I traded house socks for chukka boots, slipped on a surgical mask, and did what many in the U.S. have been longing to do for weeks. I went out for dinner.

I chose Frank’s in part because it makes for a useful case study of the current regulatory climate in Hong Kong. Bars have been ordered closed, but not restaurants; Frank’s is a split-level operation, with more of a bar setup downstairs and a sit-down restaurant upstairs. The mandatory bar closure has meant that almost all of Lan Kwai Fong, Hong Kong’s famous party district, has been shut down; Frank’s sits on the edge of LKF, sandwiched between it and the equally busy but more restaurant-heavy SoHo neighborhood.

Although popular with Cantonese locals for workweek lunch, at night, Frank’s is often filled with expat residents drinking Negronis and ordering the veal. Expats have come under special scrutiny recently, after a wave of travelers rushing home to the city from hot spots abroad brought new cases back with them only a few weeks ago.

Normally, it would cost me less than $1 to take the subway or minibus from my house to Wyndham Street, but to minimize time spent in small, enclosed, crowded spaces, I splurged $6.50 on a cab. At the entrance to Frank’s, I was stopped by a host and was confronted with the first in a series of small obstacles to eating out: the temperature check.

Well before COVID-19, it would’ve been hard to go a day in Hong Kong and not see someone wearing a mask. They’re common enough that if you met a friend on the street and someone asked you later if the friend had worn one, you might not remember. In restaurants, I’d seen staff wearing masks from time to time too, though almost never in more upscale situations. But at Frank’s — as with every other restaurant I checked in on — all staff wore the same thin, blue surgical masks Hong Kongers had been wearing on the street for years.

While Hong Kong’s pre-existing mask culture somewhat prepared me, in the U.S., it might have felt a little like a mass text had gone out on Halloween, where the in-joke was that instead of asking everyone to dress in a sexy costume, every costume would be a surgeon: Surgeon servers. Surgeon cooks. A surgeon DJ. Even having lived with regular mask culture for years now — and among their near-ubiquity for weeks — seeing every single person who handled my food and drink wear the tell-tale sign of medical caution was jarring.

Still, not long into the meal, as the unnerving feeling began to subside, it was quickly replaced by communication issues. I’ve heard a lot of people lament the non-verbal communication lost behind masks, the missed smiles or bitten lips, but more difficult for me were the few times I couldn’t understand what my server was trying to ask me. He was enunciating clearly at a volume well above the ambient noise, but without seeing half his face, he may as well have held his hand behind his back and asked me, “How many fingers?” “Sure,” I replied the first time this happened, and the result was a side of squash I didn’t think I’d ordered. (It was great.)

After dinner, I picked my own mask up off my knee, where it had remained throughout the meal, and headed downstairs for a cocktail. I ordered at the bar, got my drink at the bar, and then immediately had to walk away from the bar and stand against the far wall. The bar itself had no stools, and featured printouts explaining that customers could not hang out at the bar. In a total reverse of the usual crush to buy drinks, the few guests in the quarter-full room were clustered in small groups against the far wall with me. Only they weren’t with me at all.

When you sit at the bar you are part of a continuum, long or short, curved or straight, finite or infinitely looped, that counts everyone seated anywhere along it as also at the bar. Downstairs at Frank’s, we were all standing up while observing social distance. Me trying to join any one group would have been the awkward equivalent of pulling up a seat to a table full of unsuspecting strangers upstairs. Not having the stomach for that, I downed my drink, put my money on the bar and left.

Police on Wyndham Street prepare to enforce social distancing rules on Friday night

Pens used to fill out health declaration forms at Yardbird HK are individually sterilized after each use

Outside, I walked back past the cops and did a quick loop through an eerily empty Lan Kwai Fong, before wandering back up towards Soho to see how restaurants were doing there. Turning up Peel Street, I was only half-surprised to see several large gaggles of maskless expats drinking out in front of restaurants on the dead-end road. You know that particular genre of sports bloopers where an athlete begins celebrating right on the verge of winning, only to have victory snatched away by someone actually digging for those last few inches? I’ve gotten some good schadenfreude out of those scenes, but with only one new case of COVID reported in Hong Kong the day before my night out, these people felt like the last link on our whole city’s relay team, and their confidence made me nervous.

I moved on, and tried to stop in a wine bar that sells enough charcuterie, cheese, and other no-cook food to maybe pass as a restaurant, but the man at the front desk of its building told me that the entire floor was closed. I stopped into the lobby of a high rise on Wellington Street, hoping to finally try the “martini 3-ways” at VEA Lounge, the cocktail bar one flight down from Vicky Cheng’s French-Chinese tasting menu restaurant, VEA, but the button for the 29th floor didn’t work at all.

Then I remembered that Yardbird Hong Kong had reopened. It closed for 14 days starting March 23, after word of infected diners at another restaurant group got out. But it was back in business now, albeit under a new regime of health and safety measures. There was a wait, as usual, but nowhere to do the waiting. The front room, where I’ve spent several past pre-dinner hours nursing a cocktail or two while my name moved up the host’s list, had been converted from a mostly standing-room bar area into a second sit-down-only dining room. Anyone not yet seated would have to wait outside. I gave my phone number and went for a walk around the block.

When I did finally get in, the host took my temperature and asked me to sign a form declaring that in the last 14 days I had not been outside of Hong Kong, hung out with anyone outside of Hong Kong, and/or had COVID-19 or symptoms of COVID-19. I also gave my name, phone number, and email address, so that should anyone present that night later test positive, they could contact me. I’d had to give the same personal information at Frank’s as well, so that now, despite paying cash at both venues, there was a point-by-point record of my night just floating out there in the ether, my American right-to-privacy preferences be damned.

Diners at Yardbird sit four to a table max, in a dining room at 50 percent capacity by law

The host told me she had never had problems from anyone about the health form, but there had been larger groups who got annoyed at having to separate into tables of four or fewer. On my own, I was led to a two-top in the middle of the back dining room, ordered a cocktail, and read on my phone.

At 50 percent capacity, the place was still lively, but even if the kinetic feeling of the restaurant was still there, some of the potential energy for a solo diner had been stripped away. I’m usually fairly confident being out on my own, but something about sitting so far from another table — even an empty one in one of my favorite Hong Kong restaurants — was uncomfortable.

Steam rose in the open kitchen, swirling past a flurry of masked chefs shuffling around their stations. What felt like more servers than I can ever remember seeing on that floor swarmed about the dining room. And everywhere there were people eating. Everywhere, except of course within about six feet on all sides of me. If my distant neighbors and I had shared a brief conversation before I finished my drink, decided there was no point in trying to stay out anymore, and headed home, it most likely would’ve consisted of an exaggerated wave and a pantomimed shout, as if we each occupied either side of an enormous cavern, and could never get much closer than we were already. It would’ve been mildly funny. And mostly true.

Andrew Genung is a writer based in Hong Kong and the creator of the Family Meal newsletter about the restaurant industry.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3eHzabl https://ift.tt/3apyZyk

Expats gather outside bars and restaurants on Peel street in Soho

Masks, temperature checks, and awkward bar vibes — one writer’s recent night out in Hong Kong could be a glimpse at America’s future

On a recent Friday night in Hong Kong, two police vans idled outside an upscale Italian restaurant on Wyndham Street. Only a few months earlier, their presence might have been an ominous sign that a unit of anti-protest riot cops was in the area, tear gas and pepper spray at the ready. But as is the case for much of daily life here since January, Hong Kong has moved from a state of protest to pandemic, and that night, instead of an armed “raptor” force wearing dark green fatigues and gas masks, the vans discharged a group of what looked like ordinary patrolmen in simple short-sleeve uniforms and surgical masks.

The officers had mustered in one of the city’s busiest nightlife districts to enforce the local government’s ongoing social distancing measures in response to COVID-19, many of which were first announced in late March. They stood outside on the sidewalk like nuns chaperoning a Catholic school dance, armed with rulers, ready to stalk the floor and push guests apart to “make room for the Holy Spirit.” Except in this case the school gymnasium was a bar full of consenting adults, the rulers were rolls of measuring tape, and the Holy Spirit, I assume, was the distance required for gravity to pull down tiny drops of spittle from the air between us.

As cities and states across the U.S. begin to float possible dates for reopening the closed sectors of their economies, many diners and hospitality industry leaders are asking what that next phase might look like for restaurants. Because Hong Kong — along with other Asian cities like Seoul and Taipei — has largely succeeded in controlling outbreaks, and allowed its restaurants to stay open throughout the pandemic, some are asking if the present state of dining here could be a glimpse at the future for America.

Can diners in Taipei, Hong Kong, Korea, China send me photos of what it looks like in restaurants. How the seating is set up? Are all the servers wearing masks and gloves. What are guests wearing? If anyone works in kitchens how are you dealing w new protocol?

— Dave Chang (@davidchang) April 16, 2020

And so, with the number of newly reported COVID-19 cases in Hong Kong staying firmly in single digits over the preceding few days, I traded house socks for chukka boots, slipped on a surgical mask, and did what many in the U.S. have been longing to do for weeks. I went out for dinner.

I chose Frank’s in part because it makes for a useful case study of the current regulatory climate in Hong Kong. Bars have been ordered closed, but not restaurants; Frank’s is a split-level operation, with more of a bar setup downstairs and a sit-down restaurant upstairs. The mandatory bar closure has meant that almost all of Lan Kwai Fong, Hong Kong’s famous party district, has been shut down; Frank’s sits on the edge of LKF, sandwiched between it and the equally busy but more restaurant-heavy SoHo neighborhood.

Although popular with Cantonese locals for workweek lunch, at night, Frank’s is often filled with expat residents drinking Negronis and ordering the veal. Expats have come under special scrutiny recently, after a wave of travelers rushing home to the city from hot spots abroad brought new cases back with them only a few weeks ago.

Normally, it would cost me less than $1 to take the subway or minibus from my house to Wyndham Street, but to minimize time spent in small, enclosed, crowded spaces, I splurged $6.50 on a cab. At the entrance to Frank’s, I was stopped by a host and was confronted with the first in a series of small obstacles to eating out: the temperature check.

Well before COVID-19, it would’ve been hard to go a day in Hong Kong and not see someone wearing a mask. They’re common enough that if you met a friend on the street and someone asked you later if the friend had worn one, you might not remember. In restaurants, I’d seen staff wearing masks from time to time too, though almost never in more upscale situations. But at Frank’s — as with every other restaurant I checked in on — all staff wore the same thin, blue surgical masks Hong Kongers had been wearing on the street for years.

While Hong Kong’s pre-existing mask culture somewhat prepared me, in the U.S., it might have felt a little like a mass text had gone out on Halloween, where the in-joke was that instead of asking everyone to dress in a sexy costume, every costume would be a surgeon: Surgeon servers. Surgeon cooks. A surgeon DJ. Even having lived with regular mask culture for years now — and among their near-ubiquity for weeks — seeing every single person who handled my food and drink wear the tell-tale sign of medical caution was jarring.

Still, not long into the meal, as the unnerving feeling began to subside, it was quickly replaced by communication issues. I’ve heard a lot of people lament the non-verbal communication lost behind masks, the missed smiles or bitten lips, but more difficult for me were the few times I couldn’t understand what my server was trying to ask me. He was enunciating clearly at a volume well above the ambient noise, but without seeing half his face, he may as well have held his hand behind his back and asked me, “How many fingers?” “Sure,” I replied the first time this happened, and the result was a side of squash I didn’t think I’d ordered. (It was great.)

After dinner, I picked my own mask up off my knee, where it had remained throughout the meal, and headed downstairs for a cocktail. I ordered at the bar, got my drink at the bar, and then immediately had to walk away from the bar and stand against the far wall. The bar itself had no stools, and featured printouts explaining that customers could not hang out at the bar. In a total reverse of the usual crush to buy drinks, the few guests in the quarter-full room were clustered in small groups against the far wall with me. Only they weren’t with me at all.

When you sit at the bar you are part of a continuum, long or short, curved or straight, finite or infinitely looped, that counts everyone seated anywhere along it as also at the bar. Downstairs at Frank’s, we were all standing up while observing social distance. Me trying to join any one group would have been the awkward equivalent of pulling up a seat to a table full of unsuspecting strangers upstairs. Not having the stomach for that, I downed my drink, put my money on the bar and left.

Police on Wyndham Street prepare to enforce social distancing rules on Friday night

Pens used to fill out health declaration forms at Yardbird HK are individually sterilized after each use

Outside, I walked back past the cops and did a quick loop through an eerily empty Lan Kwai Fong, before wandering back up towards Soho to see how restaurants were doing there. Turning up Peel Street, I was only half-surprised to see several large gaggles of maskless expats drinking out in front of restaurants on the dead-end road. You know that particular genre of sports bloopers where an athlete begins celebrating right on the verge of winning, only to have victory snatched away by someone actually digging for those last few inches? I’ve gotten some good schadenfreude out of those scenes, but with only one new case of COVID reported in Hong Kong the day before my night out, these people felt like the last link on our whole city’s relay team, and their confidence made me nervous.

I moved on, and tried to stop in a wine bar that sells enough charcuterie, cheese, and other no-cook food to maybe pass as a restaurant, but the man at the front desk of its building told me that the entire floor was closed. I stopped into the lobby of a high rise on Wellington Street, hoping to finally try the “martini 3-ways” at VEA Lounge, the cocktail bar one flight down from Vicky Cheng’s French-Chinese tasting menu restaurant, VEA, but the button for the 29th floor didn’t work at all.

Then I remembered that Yardbird Hong Kong had reopened. It closed for 14 days starting March 23, after word of infected diners at another restaurant group got out. But it was back in business now, albeit under a new regime of health and safety measures. There was a wait, as usual, but nowhere to do the waiting. The front room, where I’ve spent several past pre-dinner hours nursing a cocktail or two while my name moved up the host’s list, had been converted from a mostly standing-room bar area into a second sit-down-only dining room. Anyone not yet seated would have to wait outside. I gave my phone number and went for a walk around the block.

When I did finally get in, the host took my temperature and asked me to sign a form declaring that in the last 14 days I had not been outside of Hong Kong, hung out with anyone outside of Hong Kong, and/or had COVID-19 or symptoms of COVID-19. I also gave my name, phone number, and email address, so that should anyone present that night later test positive, they could contact me. I’d had to give the same personal information at Frank’s as well, so that now, despite paying cash at both venues, there was a point-by-point record of my night just floating out there in the ether, my American right-to-privacy preferences be damned.

Diners at Yardbird sit four to a table max, in a dining room at 50 percent capacity by law

The host told me she had never had problems from anyone about the health form, but there had been larger groups who got annoyed at having to separate into tables of four or fewer. On my own, I was led to a two-top in the middle of the back dining room, ordered a cocktail, and read on my phone.

At 50 percent capacity, the place was still lively, but even if the kinetic feeling of the restaurant was still there, some of the potential energy for a solo diner had been stripped away. I’m usually fairly confident being out on my own, but something about sitting so far from another table — even an empty one in one of my favorite Hong Kong restaurants — was uncomfortable.

Steam rose in the open kitchen, swirling past a flurry of masked chefs shuffling around their stations. What felt like more servers than I can ever remember seeing on that floor swarmed about the dining room. And everywhere there were people eating. Everywhere, except of course within about six feet on all sides of me. If my distant neighbors and I had shared a brief conversation before I finished my drink, decided there was no point in trying to stay out anymore, and headed home, it most likely would’ve consisted of an exaggerated wave and a pantomimed shout, as if we each occupied either side of an enormous cavern, and could never get much closer than we were already. It would’ve been mildly funny. And mostly true.

Andrew Genung is a writer based in Hong Kong and the creator of the Family Meal newsletter about the restaurant industry.

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[secondgame00-blog]

WORKSHOP UPDATE … AND A FEW WORDS ON FOOD PHOTOGRAPHY

A few seats left

A first, wonderful early spring workshop is behind us and I must say it’s nice to be back on track, preparing meals, sharing our kitchen, our table, our region. Getting started has prompted me to get organised, to look at the registrations for the upcoming workshops, contact people etc. After doing the math and receiving response from a few people with tentative status, here are the workshops with some (usually very limited) availability this year.

Next week we are headed to Piemonte for a very exciting workshop which is full of lovely people, some returning. So no spaces there.

After that we have the Basque workshop which is pretty full but I had one person postpone so I could add 1-2 people to that workshop. May 16-18

Next is the Summer Wine – some reservations have confirmed they couldn’t come this time so we still have a bit of space there. May 30 – June 1

Then there is the Summer Abundance workshop which was so enormously popular that we added a second, identical workshop the following week. I had turned a lot of people away but then, when the requests kept pouring in we added the second one and some people from the first one even switched dates. So now we have two, quite evenly booked Summer abundance workshops and while I’d be perfectly happy to keep the numbers how they are right now I could still add 1-2 people to each. June 20-22 & June 27-29

There are still some spaces in the Piemonte Photography and wine workshop on September 27 – 29

The Fall Harvest workshop is one of the all time most booked so that one is impossible – we could have filled it up 3 times. I’ve been trying to look at possibilities to add a second one but right now I just can’t find the time for it. October 10-12

The Autumn wine is less booked so close to full but not quite October 24-26

Additionally I’ve been getting many requests for the dates in 2019 so we are looking at that right now and I expect to announce in May or early June.

For all information please email me at [email protected]

Looking forward to hearing from you

Mimi xx

Over to my husband who has a few things to say … about cabbage, onions & co.

Tuesday vegetables and other things

Although Mimi and I both love to eat fresh vegetables we have a distinctively different relationship with them. At the market she’s searching for inspiration, something that catches her eye, something she can bring home and slice up, boil, steam or grill and ultimately make it into something much more delicious than it was in the beginning. It’s a gut feeling – literally. My sole vegetable hunts, which are very frequent are more like casting sessions but practical ones – without a fault the freshest vegetables are also the most eye-catching, what’s in season stands out. I try to look for the really interesting “faces”, not just the shiny rows of monotone soldiers, but the odd fellows, the slightly deformed – the organic boys.

Our vegetable symphony marches on in perfect harmony, the house is always full to the rafters of the freshest produce, from local growers, and in summer, from our garden. The tricky day is Tuesday. Mimi will have cooked all the stuff she bought at the weekend but a lot of mine is still sitting there, getting less pretty by the minute. I often tell people that while I’m most probably a photographer by profession my real job is arranging vegetables. And most of that never gets photographed. I use the word “arrange” loosely as “throw them in” would be more in the spirit of what I do. I don’t believe in over-styling but I do subscribe to elements like chance and luck. Let the carrots fall where they may.

This brings us back to Tuesday. Last Tuesday to be exact. We had some lovely gentlemen coming down from Paris for lunch – they will be our “leather partners” in items such as aprons, dog leashes etc. It’s taken a long time to find the right people – Joseph Bonnie. We were late as we always are and after walking the dogs I had to choose between a shower or my vegetables. They were sitting there in crates, slowly going in the wrong direction of aesthetic pulchritude. The light would not be better later. Tomorrow these veggies would be over the hill of photographable beauty. Certain flowers and vegetables age well. Roses are like that. Tulips are not, not in my opinion anyway. The stalks fade to a yellowish-green that I find unbearable. Apples dry up, lemons (if they’re not radio-active) turn to a powderish green. Celery fades, carrots limp, asparagus shrivels and cherries ferment in rather a beautiful but not in the “I want to eat them” sort of way.

So a long story cut short I threw it all on a table and shot it, even brougth out a camera rather than a phone. The result is not magnificent but it’s fine. Fine enough for Mimi to say “my love (once again I inserted that), I’m giving some workshop updates on the blog – why don’t we post these and perhaps you can write something about them”. So now, while she’s on the roof, looking lovely in a bikini, I’m down here in the green room typing away – I type fast, a result of going to commercial college – they also taught book-keeping but I must have slept through that. Yes, typing away with a Negroni in front of me. Right now it’s about two-thirds down but I’m not even half-finished which is a terrifying though for any “writer”.

There is Champagne in the freezer though, a nice blanc de noirs (meaning white from black, only red grapes, pinot noir or pinot meunier). Yes, freezer because contrary to some wise guy sommeliers who’d love to serve the Champagne almost luke warm so it can properly “express itself” I fervently believe that Champagne should be served ice-cold. For those who’d like it a few degrees warmer, they can just wait a bit, but no Champagne ever got colder by sitting in a glass. The only exception is, that if you have a truly exceptional Champagne, something old, something from a single vineyard that’s hard to get, something so expensive that it feels like a bullet through the heart when the cork shoots through the air. Then, just maybe then, should you not put it in a freezer. And this is just my theory, not a fact – examples of really good Champagnes if you can find them are the ´99 Winston Churchill from Pol Roger, the single vineyards from Jacquesson, Salon is beautiful (but too expensive), anything from Selosse, Egly Ouriet, especially the blanc de noirs I’m in love with – Drappier Brut Nature might be the best buy on the planet – Ulysse Collin is hard to find but worth the search and out of the very big houses I favor Bollinger over anybody. As did James Bond. Like everybody I love Krug but you can find the same quality for less. And yes, Dom Perignon is actually very good. As is Cristal – I love the 2002.

Sorry – got carried away here. We were talking about vegetables. And my brief was food photography. Maybe we should go back to the beginning. My father bought me a good camera when I was about 14, my family is academic and arts were considered a … past time. Lawyers, doctors etc – that what you do for a living. I started law school, well enough I might add (important for my ego to leave that in). But then I realised it wasn’t for me. Some comparative literature (just lovely – Chekhov particularly), jobs in magazines, advertising and ultimately photography. For me it’s always been about the visuals. But I was always interested in people. In portraits. Then I met Mimi who is, as you know, interested in food. Some people might call it an obsession. A healthy one. One day we were having a fairly good coq-au-vin (which is getting to be a rarity in Parisian restaurants), then a crème caramel. We were supposed to shoot the place and I took an overhead shot which in those days was not nearly as fashionable as it is now in the days of iPhones. It’s not a perfect shot but somehow it’s got all the element that define what I do. It’s classic. There’s a trace of the coq-au-vin pot. It’s simple and stylish. The floor is good, there’s a white napkin. I didn’t realize it then but that will always be the most important food picture I’ll ever take. And my style hasn’t changed much since or, which may be regrettable, improved. But none of that really matters, to me what matters is instinct.

I’ve been reading a fine book about my favorite painter, Breakfast with Lucian. It demonstrates that he’s not introspective (which is comical given his family and famous name) but instinctive. Which is what I am too (and it’s very dangerous comparing yourself to a genius because it implies I’m putting us in the same category but I’m not … not yet anyway ha ha – just because I might say I like Champagne Pol Roger like Winston Churchill doesn��t necessarily imply that I think we’re cut from the same cloth, just that a small amount of our tastes and sensiblities are aligned). To me photography is instinct. Which is why I adore dogs. That, however, is another matter and a much longer story.

I’ve included, for your amusement (hopefully) a few other images that in one way or other depict the relationship between people and food. They are from the same time as the overhead food shot of the crème caramel. Food is nothing if nobody ever eats it – the most horrible concept is food photography where the food goes cold and ends up in the bin, maybe with some glossy, inedible oil that was put there for aesthetic purposes. My wife loves a good food picture, but she believes it could be and should be created in the short space between piping hot out of the oven and still hot enough to eat. As a good, Icelandic, soldier I consider it my duty to perfom.

Negroni is gone, even with my best efforts of restraint it just couldn’t hang in there any longer, while I have much to say on this subject, and would love to – my priority is that bottle in the freezer.

Enjoy your weekend, ours will be hot, full of food & wine and most importantly, family and friends.

Source: http://mimithorisson.com/2018/04/20/workshop-update-and-a-few-words-on-food-photography/

[diggerhome64-blog]

Beau du Bois Does the Truffle Shuffle at Corner Door

Since its opening on a quiet stretch of Washington Boulevard in June 2012, The Corner Door has become a neighborhood favorite and a destination for cocktail enthusiasts, who make the pilgrimage to Culver City for the inventive, classically driven drinks offered by Beau du Bois. The accolades for du Bois have been a constant from Day One, including being named to the Zagat 30 Under 30 in 2013, and Eater LA’s Bartender of the Year in 2014.

During a lively brunch service at Eveleigh, du Bois talked about his favorite L.A. bartenders, an unforgettable trip to Oaxaca, and his latest Corner Door menu, which was inspired by a beloved 80s summer blockbuster. “Obviously there’s always going to be a need to do seasonal, refreshing menus. From an administrative standpoint, with the popularity of cocktail programs and seasonal menus in Los Angeles, I wanted to make [the current menu] seasonally driven but also kind of put some talking points on it, so I decided to choose something that would really inspire me and also inspire people to be at tables and start chatting about it.”

“The memories of The Goonies – I think 95% of people have some sense of nostalgia towards [it] and it’s a timeless classic,” du Bois continues. “It’s such a beautiful ensemble of cast and characters and events, and it’s a great adventure story – there was plenty to pull from to build a well-balanced, versatile cocktail menu. But also have some spring, seasonal and summer influences as well, so that people can feel a transition from L.A. ‘winter’ to L.A. spring and summer.”

Truffle Shuffle at The Corner Door | Photo courtesy of Beau du Bois

Du Bois is pleasantly surprised that the breakout drink from the Goonies menu is the Truffle Shuffle, made with Nikka Coffey Grain Whisky, house-made hazelnut liqueur and cacao nib bitters, served with house-made trail mix. “What’s really interesting this time around is the standout cocktail is the one ultra-premium cocktail that I put on the menu,” says du Bois. “I knew it was a great cocktail [with a] beautiful presentation, but at $18 I was like, ‘We’ll see how this does,’ you know? I think it’ll sell here and there, but only for groups that are looking to celebrate or really cap out their night together and share it. It’s really encouraging and incredible to see at $18 apiece, nobody’s batting their eye.”

The hazelnut liqueur is made from a Laird’s base with some hazelnuts. “Then I make a hazelnut cordial, a few different spices that elevate the hazelnut flavor. And then I did an infused cacao nib bitters, which is a combination of some aromatic bitters that I let sit with a bunch of cocoa nibs.”

“Just stir that together, so it’s basically a Japanese whisky Old Fashioned. Japanese whisky is so delicate and subtle in itself that it even boils down to how many times the bartender can stir it, which is significantly less than an Old Fashioned.”

The Truffle Shuffle is served with a hedge of house-made trail mix that’s made exclusively for the cocktail. “I bake hazelnuts and pistachios in honey, butter, cinnamon, garlic, brown sugar and salt. It’s served with dark chocolate bits and dried mandarins. Delicious, very smooth, very approachable. The whole presentation comes out very beautiful – you have your drink and your snacks.”

Du Bois adds, “The trail mix is addictive. Oh my God. Right now… it’s only for the cocktail, that’s it. People are like, ‘Let me just buy a plate of it, PLEASE!'”

During a recent trip to Oaxaca, du Bois’ feed started blowing up. “Who is this ‘Jeff Cohen‘? I realized, that’s the actor that played Chunk. He was tweeting about the Truffle Shuffle at Corner Door! That’s all I could hope for. He’s been a very outspoken, big supporter of the fanship around Goonies. He’s a retired actor and is now a lawyer representing child actors, but he always seems like he’s had a warm spot for Goonies and the fanship around it, which is great.”

Mama Fratelli at The Corner Door | Photo courtesy of Beau du Bois

“The other stirred cocktail is a rye-based cocktail called the Mama Fratelli, which I think is one of my favorite cocktails I’ve ever done. It’s Rittenhouse Rye with espresso infused Carpano Antica, a little coconut liqueur, and salt. Not really an archetype there, you can kind of say it’s a Manhattan variation, but there’s so little vermouth in it – and also the coconut liqueur and the salt. It’s very rye driven but I’ve never tasted anything like it, and honestly without the salt it would be half the cocktail it is now.” 

Data Plan at The Corner Door | Photo courtesy of Beau du Bois

Some of the shaken cocktails are doing really well, says du Bois. The Data Plan is made with strawberry infused Altos Tequila, falernum, Miracle Mile Bergamot Bitters, lime juice and Dolin Bianco Vermouth. “Light, bright, lush, jammy, refreshing, beautiful presentation. That’s a big standout for sure as well.”

Astoria Country Club at The Corner Door: green tea-infused Pisco Porton, Chareau, honey, cantaloupe, lime, prosecco | Photo courtesy of Beau du Bois

Rich Stuff at The Corner Door: saffron-infused bourbon, Cynar, Creme de Peche, lemon, egg white, orange bitters | Photo courtesy of Beau du Bois

Du Bois says, “Whenever you can do a seasonal menu like this and put a theme around it, it also demonstrates to your guests: here’s the rest of our cocktail menu, here are some of our house classics – the French 75, the Mezcallin, the Taco Truck – but this little subsection down here, this is really where we cut the cord to the brakes and get nerdy and creative without alienating anybody at the same time.”

Taco Truck at The Corner Door | Photo courtesy of Beau du Bois

Speaking of the Taco Truck, it remains a favorite of imbibers near and far and has continued to win new fans since its debut at Art Beyond the Glass II in 2013. “Such a great story with that cocktail,” says du Bois. “I was told that I was going to be doing a mezcal sponsor, La Niña del Mezcal. I came up with this really, really overly contrived cocktail during the week leading up to Art Beyond the Glass. I was doing all my mise en place, getting my prep together and batching the cocktail. And literally the night before, I’m like, ‘I hate this cocktail.’ I hate this drink, it’s way too heavy on the mixology, it’s way too contrived, and it’s dumb. I’m showing off way too much. So I decided, I’m just going to do a Negroni variation. I’ll infuse the Campari with flavors that complement and elevate mezcal. And that’s it.”

Du Bois continues, “It’s an event that is bartender driven, bartender attended and friends of bartenders. Such a great event. Everybody’s doing X, Y and Z, and I’m just making this Negroni, which was super easy. People were loving it, and regulars at Corner Door were there – ‘You gotta put this on the menu.’ I put it on the menu at Corner Door, took it off the menu, and there were riots in the streets. I put it back on the menu and I’ve never taken it off. gaz regan reached out to me and said it was one of the best cocktails in the world, a few other people [said it was] the best Negroni variation in the U.S., Imbibe has featured it a bunch. It’s just a perfect example of how the simple stuff, the stuff that doesn’t get overthought, sometimes tend to be the best.”

Du Bois is also rolling out the latest iteration of The Other List, his “secret” menu designed especially for regulars and cocktail enthusiasts. “This one is going to be a hyper-focused vermouth edition of The Other List. We’re going to do some vermouth based cocktails – Vermouth Panaché, Fifty-Fifties. I’m really going to try – easier said than done – to make L.A.’s best Manhattan. I want to do a nice, beautiful proprietary vermouth blend, maybe with a few infusions here and there. Have a lovely menu [with a] Fifty-Fifty, Manhattan, Vermouth Panaché and a dry vermouth Daiquiri. Feature some of the house vermouths.”

“If you hang out on the Westside and talk to any bartenders on the Westside, they will always tell you – with a smirk on their face – if I’m walking into your bar, you have to get your dry vermouth out. [laughs] That’s all I drink, is dry vermouth.”

Asked if he’s been to Moruno at The Original Farmer’s Market, du Bois enthusiastically answers, “The second I saw [info] about their vermouth program, I went straight there. Had some breakfast at [The French Crepe Co] – which is always delicious – and I tried their vermouth.”

“I had expectations as an old, bitter, cynical bartender that I was going to taste something that was really good but not great – ‘I see what you’re trying to do and I think that that’s fantastic.’ WOW, I could not have been more wrong. It was amazing. It was seamless and it was beautiful.”

“Putting it on tap is one of the most genius things you could do from an administrative standpoint,” he continues. “And as I’m drinking it, geeking out over this dry vermouth on the rocks, served with a orange wedge and olives, I look around and I’m like, ‘I’m probably the only one drinking this.’ Not the case. Once again, wrong. I look around and everybody is finishing their meals with dry vermouth or sweet vermouth. And I was like, ‘OK, so this is what heaven looks like.’ The balance of the dry vermouth was way beyond what I expected. Amazing. I can’t recommend it enough.”

El Silencio Master Mezcalier, Pedro Hernández and Beau du Bois | Photo courtesy of Beau du Bois

During the second year of The Corner Door, du Bois began a fruitful relationship with Mezcal El Silencio. “Marcos [Tello] and I have known each other for a long time,” says du Bois. “He’s always been such a great resource. We just got to talking. I don’t know how long they had been doing their Espadin. I tasted it, it was a great product for what we were looking for. It just made a lot of sense to fit into a place like Corner Door. I think the Corner Door brand and the Silencio brand just seem to work really well with each other. I’ve always loved the flavor of the mezcal, so the rest is history.”

“They’ve been nothing but great – it’s such a supportive, family driven, bar community based mezcal. They never cease to meet my standards by any means when it comes to my needs for support for events or anything like that.”

Mezcallins and Taco Trucks at the “Get Lost in L.A.” launch | Photo courtesy of Beau du Bois

In March 2016, El Silencio helped sponsor a media event in New York to promote the launch of the “Get Lost in L.A.” campaign for L.A. Tourism. [Full disclosure: I’m the Content Manager for Discover Los Angeles.] The event featured cocktails by du Bois, tacos by Guerrilla Tacos and a live art installation by street artist Colette Miller. “We made the Mezcallin and the Taco Truck and featured El Silencio. I think they had just activated in New York so it was perfect for them as well. The event was such a smash hit. It raised awareness for Corner Door and obviously for Los Angeles, but definitely for Silencio as well.”  

“So [El Silencio] approached me, ‘Hey, we’re taking 80 people to Oaxaca to visit our palenque, see Oaxaca as a city, do a little cocktail competition and all that. We would love to have you.’ It was one of the few times where my schedule opened up and I could actually go on a trip, which was nice.”

Du Bois was talking to Alex Day two days before leaving for the event. “I really thought it was going to be a nice, relaxing trip to Oaxaca – get some sunshine, stay under the radar, sip some mezcal, lay by the pool, have some amazing Oaxacan cuisine. And then I found out Zach Patterson was going.” [laughs]

“Silencio absolutely smashed this trip out of the park,” says du Bois. “There wasn’t a minute of this trip that wasn’t planned, orchestrated and beyond fun, enriching and educational. There was a parade for us in the streets in Oaxaca. Just to go to dinner, there were 80 people in the streets with bottles of Silencio, and floats, dancers and mariachi. We’re walking in the streets and I don’t even know where we’re going. I think I’m eight shots of Silencio in. We go to dinner in this huge what feels like an army bunker of some kind. There’s fire, live music and all this stuff, great food.”

Beau du Bois and Josh Goldman at the El Silencio palenque in San Baltazar Guelavila | Photo courtesy of Mezcal El Silencio

“We painted the town red and the next day we visited the palenque and got to meet the master distiller, Pedro Hernandez, who is a ninth generation mezcal maker. And finally, the owner of Silencio, Fausto Zapata – such a lovely, charming, lively individual that it’s hard not to have a really incredible time anywhere, let alone Oaxaca, if you’re hanging out with Fausto.”

Du Bois continues, “Just getting ready to learn about the brand and the story behind it, seeing the agave fields – very family driven production behind Silencio. I think the best part of my night was after things kind of winded down, getting to meet the rest of Pedro’s family, all his daughters and his sisters. Introducing me to I think his second oldest daughter, ‘This is the next generation of mezcal makers.’ Lovely, very charming young lady who probably at this point in her very young life knows way more about mezcal than maybe all the bartenders in this room combined.”

“Getting to meet her and dance the night away with Fausto and Pedro’s family underneath the tents in the agave fields. There’s a worse way to spend your Saturday night in Mexico!”

The agave fields of Oaxaca are a long way from Ball State in Indiana, where du Bois was finishing his sophomore year in 2004. “My birthday is late in the year – May 2nd – that’s finals week, all that stuff. I was celebrating my 21st birthday that week. The Martini lounge in my college town was the fancy place. So my professors were like, ‘After you’re done with your friends, meet us at Motini’s and you’ll have a proper cocktail with us,’ which ended up being a gin Martini with Boodles. At 21 years old, I can say with great confidence I did not have the palate for it.”

“I overheard the owner talking to one of the professors, ‘If you know of any students staying over, I need bartenders.’ I had no bartending experience, so I’m useless. I’m waiting in line for the bathroom, and there are three beautiful blonde girls waiting in line as well. And I was that right amount of drunk to be that right amount of charming for that five-minute window. Apparently I made a joke that got them all laughing and giggling right as the owner walked by. He thought the girls were with me. Here’s this guy, he’s got three girls with him, we gotta hire him. So he’s like, ‘Are you staying over the summer?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Do you have any bartending experience?’

‘No, not at all.’

‘OK you start tomorrow.’ [laughs]

“Started the next day, learned everything – making Cosmos, gin Martinis, even Colorado Bulldogs if you’re old enough to remember what those were. It’s a White Russian with a splash of Coke on it. Actually, pretty good.”

“Fast forward, consulted on a few bars back in Indiana because I found this rich, American heritage to cocktail making. Just really started to get into it. Was gonna move to Chicago, decided to come to L.A. because the weather is … the weather. The L.A. cocktail scene was just starting to get the engine going. Took the better part of a year to find a job. [I was] the last bartender hired at the Hyatt in West Hollywood, which was the infamous ‘Riot Hyatt,’ just as they were getting ready to be renovated to the Andaz. Just kept studying, working, building my knowledge of classic and modern cocktail making.”

“I was reading a lot of Dale DeGroff, which was a perfect blend of approachable cocktail making, real serious classic standards and presentation focused as well. Try to imagine, nobody teaching you how to flame an orange peel, and trying to figure it out from a book. ‘I’m supposed to snap the orange wedge in half?’ Because he doesn’t look like he’s breaking it in the picture, you know? I was at home burning the shit out of my fingertips.”

Du Bois continues, “Hyatt closed and I used the in-between time – I went to New York for a little bit, and all I was doing was looking at books, memorizing how to make for instance a Vieux Carré, a Manhattan and a Gimlet. And then going and sitting in front of bartenders that I knew were established: Eric Alperin, Marcos Tello, Damian Windsor, Jason Bran. I don’t think they knew it at the time, but I would order a Vieux Carré from Eric and I would just watch him make it. I would study his technique and take notes. I would watch Marcos shake a Gimlet, watch Damian interact with guests and navigate Bartender’s Choices.”

“So there’s a handful of bartenders in this city – I don’t even know if they’re aware of this, but they’ve actually secretly sort of mentored me. I used that to become the head bartender at the Andaz and – aside from Eveleigh – doing one of the first farm-to-table cocktail programs in the city. I was way underqualified and I had to work really hard to make that work.” RH at the Andaz was du Bois’ breakthrough in the L.A. cocktail community and a harbinger of drinks to come.

After RH, du Bois helped David LeFevre open MB Post and consulted on a few other programs behind the scenes in L.A. “Then four years ago, the owners of Corner Door found me. ‘We like what you do, we just want more of it. We want it to be neighborhood driven, we want to have the same caliber of cocktails as some of the best places in the city, but we still want it to be approachable.’ The owners just wanted a place [with a] good burger, good beers and great cocktails. And that’s what we set out to do and it’s definitely been that and then some.”

Du Bois recalls meeting Julian Cox for the first time, which surprisingly didn’t happen until last fall. “Julian is one of the people that – for myself, my situation is a little different than some bartenders, not having had a mentor. And having to study these people, like Eric Alperin, Marcos Tello, Damian Windsor and Julian Cox. Reading about them as they’re building this revolution and cocktail awareness in Los Angeles.”

“One of the most heartbreaking things to me was learning that Julian was leaving the city, and he and I had never really been introduced. I went to one of his opening nights at Fiscal Agent and that was the first time we had ever met, which was incredible. He came around the bar and sat down and talked to me a little bit about his approach. I’m obviously a little buzzed, just spouting sonnets about what he was doing at Fiscal Agent – it felt like a total secret bartender paradise. Just watching somebody like him making the cocktails and explaining his creative process behind it was like fast forwarding four years of educational expertise.”

The L.A. bar community came out in force at a going away party for Cox and Kristina Howald at Petty Cash. “He was so charming at Fiscal Agent, I’m definitely going to [Petty Cash] and at least shake the dude’s hand and say ‘thank you’ for everything you’ve given to this city from a cocktail standpoint. I’ve interviewed countless bartenders who [said] ‘I took Julian Cox’s class.’ I’ve seen the difference in these people versus other candidates. You always see some kind of thematic throughline with each of the bartenders that Julian has trained, and it’s all very positive.”

“So being at Julian’s going away party, I think one of the most humbling moments for me was seeing Julian across a very packed room of some of the greatest bartenders in the city, and bar enthusiasts, writers and cocktail lovers in general. Julian makes a point to cross the room, shake my hand, and the first thing he says, ‘I can’t wait to be in Chicago and read about all the great stuff you’re going to be doing here in L.A.’ It was like a bear hug / punch right in the feels. Gave me a hug, shook my hand, we chatted a little bit. I got to meet his son, talked to Kristina and hear about all the great plans for Chicago, which is formidable. Getting to say goodbye to somebody like that, even though I know it’s not forever obviously, was probably one of my favorite Los Angeles bartending moments of my career.”

Yael Vengroff at The Spare Room | Photo by Eugene Lee, courtesy of Yael Vengroff

On the rare occasion when du Bois has a night off or has some time to go out and have cocktails (“I try to as much as I can”), who are the bartenders that he visits? “I’ve said it a thousand times, but it never loses its potency with me, sitting in front [of] or even just watching Yael Vengroff bartend is one of the most impressive things you can witness from an industry standpoint, or even a consumer standpoint. Yael is the real deal in the sense of where creativity, pedigree, speed and hospitality, all intersect.”

“Now that we’ve glamorized bartending – as it should be – we’re celebritizing the people behind these great programs, as many of those people deserve. It’s also attracted a saturated market of bartenders who are what I like to call ‘skipping steps.’ Racing, racing, racing for that title without paying their dues and learning from people like Yael.”

“Yael is a person that is – if you were to hold her hand out, it wouldn’t be a hammer, a nail, a screwdriver, a knife and a bottle opener. It would just be all knives. If each finger represented all of her skillsets, something she’s dipped her toe in at some point in her career, it’s all there. Witnessing that is obviously impressive, but it’s beyond humbling. Even for someone like myself who’s been bartending for over a decade, I still have so much to learn.”

“Ryan Wainwright is one of the hardest working bartenders in the city,” says du Bois. “He’s constantly posting cocktails from a number of the places that fall under the banner of his beverage director position. He’s just a cool guy, he’s a cocktail lover – which is great – to see somebody who actually enjoys the perspective of the consumer as they’re crafting and designing the architecture of their cocktail recipes, and seeing that is unbelievable. It’s like knowing that, whether I have $20 to spare for a cocktail – I know it’s well spent – or it’s my last one on the planet, I’m gonna have a great cocktail made by somebody who is obsessed with cocktails. And that’s Ryan Wainwright.”

“I’ve always been a fan of Gaby [Gabriella Mlynarczyk], when she was at ink, Cadet and now Birch. She’s unbelievably talented, very straightforward. All of her recipes are very academic and extremely well executed. I think that’s the short list. Obviously if I can sit down in front of Damian Windsor or Eric Alperin and have cocktails, I know that they’re going to be fantastic. But Yael, Ryan and Gaby are incredibly impressive to me.”

The Corner Door 12477 W. Washington Blvd. Culver City, CA 90066 310.313.5810 www.thecornerdoorla.com

Photo of Beau du Bois courtesy of Acuna-Hansen.

Source: http://thirstyinla.com/2016/05/31/beau-du-bois-goonies-cocktail-menu/