The old fashioned is a drink for the people. But last week, a frankly disturbing viral video showed how it can be weaponized by the worst people at the bar: the hipster doofus.
Some guy on TikTok — I’m not going to further dignify his desperate plea for attention by naming him — posted a video of an entirely too formal craft bartender taking entirely too long to make what promises to be a thoroughly underwhelming cocktail. There isn’t a single word spoken in the two-minute, 21-second video. It still feels like an hour-long lecture at the Community College of Alienating Friends and Disturbing Customers.
How much do you think you’re getting charged for this Old Fashioned pic.twitter.com/ozxAi9vzOL
— James (@JamesDGrambo) May 9, 2023
This “perfect old fashioned” somehow takes a drink that can be made properly a thousand different ways and makes it wrong. It’s a minutes-long process for a beverage any dive bartender in the state of Wisconsin can make 10 times faster while tasting 10 times better. And while that brings up the debate on traditional vs. midwestern, bourbon vs. rye vs. Dairyland brandy variant and sweet vs. sour, almost every old fashioned drinker can agree: This guy needs to calm the hell down.
So, let’s discuss every aspect of this ridiculous video that’s remained lodged in my brain for the past week.
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Problem 1: The fake-out
We are introduced to our bartender, a 15-year-old boy with a stenciled-on mustache and clip-on studs trying to sneak past the bouncer at a Fleet Foxes concert. He pivoted to mocktails after being told no.
He begins the standard old fashioned ritual of dashing the bottom of a rocks glass with bitters before stopping and telling us exactly what kind of video this will be.
It is here our antagonist makes his intention clear. He is here to assassinate the Emperor of Punchable Faces and assume his crown. Man STRAIGHT UP tsk-tsks the notion of making an old fashioned the OLD FASHIONED way. We are six seconds into this video and it’s clear the remaining 2:15 are going to be torture.
I already hate this sassy toddler someone has dressed like a member of Mumford and Sons and placed behind the bar. I will accept this level of disdain from one vendor and one vendor only; a gloriously mustachioed Turkish ice cream wizard.
Problem 2: The tiny pitcher
Our villain calls over for a chilled rocks glass and tiny pitcher in which to mix his tincture.
You may think this means he is making multiple cocktails at one time in an ode to efficiency. You would be wrong. He is merely adding extra steps in hopes we will pay attention to him.
This becomes an ongoing theme.
Problem 3: The napkin
Instead of simply adding his bitters and sugar (in cube form, obviously) to a glass and muddling, try-hard slaps a paper napkin on top of his pitcher, adds the sugar and bitters there, dumps them in and begins muddling.
While this doesn’t add any noticeable change in taste or, indeed, recipe to the drink itself, it *does* take more time.
Problem 4: The old-timey soda dispenser
Problem 5: More tsk-ing
This time, it’s in response to the suggestion he’d use a jigger to measure out a proper amount of bourbon in your cocktail. Spoiler alert: this is so he can look stupid AND give you a short pour. The ol’ two-fer.
Problem 6: The short pour
Bespoke Bar Ninja gives us a 1.5-second pour of Four Roses, then dusts off some wildly basic Tom-Cruise-in-Cocktail moves amid a series of quick cuts to ensure we don’t see all the times he accidentally whipped his mixing tin into the sink.
Anyway, some bartenders love to act like this is impressive, but the fact of the matter is anyone pouring on a slow night has some version of this tired 80s routine in their quiver. Being able to fire dance with a liquor bottle is like being a Russian computer programmer able to twirl a pen between your fingers before James Bond blows you up.
It’s all very cringeworthy and results in another 1.5-second pour. With a topper on the bottle, that clocks out to just over one ounce of bourbon for this cocktail. That’s 75 percent of the volume of the jigger he tsk-tsked away and significantly less than you’d expect from a drink that usually starts at two ounces of spirit. This child isn’t even giving us a full shot’s worth of whiskey in what is almost certainly an $18 drink.
Problem 7: The branded ice
Kid hero takes out three individually wrapped extra-large craft ice cubes, puts two in the pitcher (for, again, one ounce of whiskey, some sugar and a couple dashes of bitters) and takes out a personalized stamp to brand his ice.
This is sociopath behavior. This is the mark of a man who so badly wanted to be a bespoke barber, but gave up his strap after his third pummeling for taking two hours to cut a simple fade. He owns vintage pornography, and not for the logical reason (holding all the power in a blackout). The only reason he is wearing a wristwatch is because he’d been choked with the chain from his pocket watch too many times to count.
Mother birds do not return to their nests when he walks underneath.
Problem 8: The aerosol (and a third tsk!)
When my sister was little, my parents gave her an old spray bottle filled with water so she could feel fancy. Whenever she’d dress up, she’d spray on her “pretty perfume” and feel great about herself, even though there was nothing of substance in the actual bottle itself.
I’m not saying that’s what’s going on here. I’m saying whatever’s in that bottle has as much impact on that drink as a five-year-old’s pretty perfume.
Problem 9: The volume of this low-booze cocktail
If you remember correctly, the ingredients so far are:
- 1 oz, Four Roses yellow
- 1 sugar cube
- 2-3 dashes, Angostura bitters
- aerosol spray
- big ice
And yet, the size of the drink that comes out easily creeps past the halfway mark of a 12-ounce rocks glass. Either this drink is wildly watered down (yes) or we missed some steps.
Problem 10: The orange garnish
Upon review, the orange garnish is not wedged over the glass like a normal human being would do. Instead, it’s attached with a tiny white clothespin.
Maaaaaan, [expletive] you.
