Glass Acts
Dave Borsman
Mistral Bistro | 223 Columbus Ave, Boston | 617-867-9300 | mistralbistro.com
Anchovies. The Franklin Cafe. The gym. My couch.
Tons of water with lemon.
You hear the phrase “I hate gin” less and less these days, and St-Germain is the new peach schnapps.
Whatever we suggest, they’re willing to try. Interesting wines by the glass fly off the bar, too, and Champagne.
Ron Boudreau at Remington’s of Boston. A classic—hilarious, generous and stories for days.
Domestic lager or chocolate Muscle Milk.
Chicken wings with beer, or charcuterie with fancy beer.
I learned long ago to keep politics and religion out of the bars, but wildlife’s cool.
Sack race. Duh.
Because it’s Mistral, Euro-lounge-house-dance-jazz-vocal-chill-hop. If it was my bar, then probably Slayer.
Honey or Campari, or both.
I revel in being clung to and indulge their every whim.
All the math.
The original “martini” called for quality London dry gin, a goodly dose of dry vermouth (no misting, rinsing or wafting from across the room), bitters and a lemon twist. But I think both sides of the martini battle should lay down their arms.
Simply being visible to the naked eye; I’m wicked observant.
Clouseau
1 1/2 oz. Belvedere Pink Grapefruit, 1/2 oz. each Lillet Blanc and St-Germain, 1 oz. fresh pink grapefruit juice. Shake hard over ice, strain into a chilled martini glass and garnish with a juicy wedge of fresh pink grapefruit.
Nicole Candido
Strega Ristorante | 379 Hanover St., Boston | 617-523-8481 | stregaristorante.com
I’m a genetic sequencing technician at one of the world’s leading bioscience research organizations in Cambridge.
Strega Waterfront or Towne. My stilettos have a mind of their own, so you can find me dancing to the beats at Cure on Saturdays.
I love limoncello shots.
A little eye candy. I like ’em tall, dark and handsome.
Not yet, but a Red Sox, a Yankee and a Bruin did one night… and wouldn’t you like to know how that ended?
Fruit accents are delicious and belong in every cocktail.
I’ll talk, listen to your stories, comment on the latest sports event and even look at pictures of your dog, but when the bill comes, you need to add another 50 percent to that tip, because I’m not on the menu, and next time won’t be so fun.
Last Thursday a tipsy, sloppy man in a business suit sits at my bar and asks for a tall White Russian. I tell him I only have small dark Italians and smile. I give him a glass of chocolate milk on the rocks. He says it’s the best White Russian he’s ever had, puts $100 on the bar and leaves.
Just ask. It’s so annoying when the solo guy lingers at the bar. I can tell he’s mustering up the nerve to ask me out. I can see him tearing his napkin into a million pieces. I can hear the hesitation in his voice when I ask if he wants another drink. But what he really wants is my number, which, when he does finally ask, he won’t get. So just ask. And then smile when I give you another beer instead. P.S. Leaving a big tip makes you memorable.
Look me in the eye and smile. Nothing is sexier than a confident man.
Roseberry
1 oz. Raspberry Chambord, 5 oz. Rose Moet. Pour the Chambord into a flute, add the Champagne, and serve with a smile.
Jesse Dupuis
Woodward at Ames Hotel | 1 Court St., Boston | 617-979-8200 | woodwardatames.com
Certified as a personal trainer and trains on days off. I’ve also started bartending private events.
Never, except to straw a drink to make sure it’s on point.
My favorite is a request to “Make me something.” After a couple of questions about the flavors they like, I get to play.
Depends on my mood. Bulleit Manhattan, up, Black Label, rocks, dark beer, pinot noir.
I’ve championed “Pony” by Ginuwine as the bar song.
Our problems. The guest is there to have a good time. We may be tired, stressed or severely hung over, but the best of us will never show it.
I waited on a couple of guys at brunch who invited me out to a dinner they were hosting at a restaurant that night. I showed up to a seven-course meal paired with wine and some very interesting company. I still have my copy of the menu. It’s not always about money.
I drink vodka dirty and straight up, so I’m forced to say there’s room for interpretation.
I’d like to see a bigger move towards micro-gastronomy in cocktails.
Guys whose style of flirting make the women at my bar uncomfortable. I see way too much of it.
Yellow Chartreuse Smash
Cut a lemon disk about 3/4 of an inch thick. Cut it into quarters and muddle with fresh mint leaves in a mixing glass. Add ¾ oz. simple syrup and 2 oz. yellow chartreuse. Dry shake (without ice) and pour through a strainer into a rocks glass. Use the bottom of the mixing glass to crush the mash in the strainer and extract the last of the liquid. Fill the glass with crushed ice, and garnish with a fresh mint sprig.
Candace Marie Smith
Grill 23 & Bar | 161 Berkeley St., Boston | 617-542-2255 | grill23.com
Absolutely not. You have to be on your game at all times at Grill 23, more so than at any other restaurant where I’ve worked.
Our guests’ requests are pretty straightforward—a martini, up, cold and either olives or a twist.
I’m going to give a shout-out to Chad Fox at the Franklin Cafe.
Ketel One, up, dirty, with blue-cheese olives.
Chips. Ours are amazing.
Working a slow Tuesday shift, back in the day at Excelsior. A guy walks in and says that a regular of mine sent him in to see me. He starts handing me rolled-up hundreds about every 30 minutes. By his third drink, he asks me what the most I’ve ever made in a single shift is. He says, “Well, we’re going to beat that.” He tipped me $1,100 in total!
I hope this never actually becomes a trend, but meat drinks. For some reason, people really want to put bacon in everything.
Fill a highball glass with ice. Add 1 1/2 oz. Hendrick's gin, 1 oz. St-Germain, 2 oz. soda water and a prosecco float. Garnish with a lemon twist.
