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Heritage Radio NetworkThis week on Snacky Tunes, we talk liquid memoirs and a new book – Regarding Cocktails (Phaidon) – with Georgette Moger-Petraske and Theo Lieberman.
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Bloomberg : Final Advice From the Inventor of Cocktail Culture
by Troy Patterson
Sasha Petraske's Regarding Cocktails is a moving tribute to the man who reinvented what it meant to go out to the bar.
The most beautiful cocktail book of the year doubles, sadly, as a work of memorial art. When author Sasha Petraske died—in August 2015, after a heart attack, at the age of 42—he had barely begun putting his thoughts on bartending into words.
But these thoughts, it cannot be said too forcefully, were substantial.
Petraske was his generation’s most influential bartender. The standards of mixing and service he set (first at New York’s Milk & Honey, then at bars ranging from London to Los Angeles to Melbourne) emerged within his lifetime as ideals taken for granted by bars all over the world. Atmospheric cocktail-den details that were simply expressions of his old-fashioned tastes in clothing and music—personal preferences for suspenders and swing jazz—went on to become, as abused by imitators, clichés in a few short years. The very concept of the 21-century speakeasy, a hush-hush watering hole guarded by passwords and esoteric entrances, owes itself to Petraske’s desire to run a tiny bar without annoying his neighbors.
Regarding Cocktails features recipes for 75 cocktails invented or perfected by Petraske and his colleagues, and bartenders in every civilized town in the world mix them every night. The book was completed by Petraske’s widow, Georgette Moger-Petraske, a journalist and copywriter.
Invited to discuss the book over drinks, she chose to meet at Little Branch, which her husband opened in the West Village in 2005. She wore her yellow-diamond engagement ring on her right hand and a complicated smile on her proud face. Complimented on the beauty of the book—the cool tone of its warm advice, the elegant illustrations by Studio Lin—she said, “Thank you. It’s an understatement saying it was a labor of love.”
They were married in May of 2015. He died three months after the honeymoon. In time, the publisher, Phaidon Press, raised the issue of what to do about their unfulfilled contract. She thought it over on a New Year’s trip to the Caribbean and reached her decision as her return flight brought the Manhattan skyline into view.
“I thought, I want to do this for Sasha and then get out,” she said. “I lived here for 15 years, and once I turned in the manuscript, I left.” She lives in Los Angeles now.
She settled into a back booth directly opposite an unassuming framed photograph of unpretentious Sasha. “Cocktails are not worth intellectualizing,” he once told an interviewer. “A cocktail is a simple thing—what matters is if you make it right.”
Source: Phaidon Press Ltd.We needed some drinks. Mrs. Petraske started with a Water Lily, a drink invented for her by Richard Boccato (Sasha’s partner in the pioneering Queens bar Dutch Kills). It tastes precisely like the violet candies a fond old family friend gave her in childhood. Her interviewer had a Red Hook, a Manhattan-like new classic by Vincenzo Errico, whom Sasha first met when opening a Milk & Honey in London.
“I wanted [the book] to seem like we were hosting a cocktail party,” she said. She succeeded, with the brisk recipe headnotes, contributed by her husband’s partners and protégés, approximating genial chatter and a selection of brief essays in back sparkling like wit or Champagne. “Sasha hated the word mixologist. He was a bartender. But I think he would really love that all of the credit was going to these bartenders he loved so much.”
Asked whether the book would have been different had her husband seen it through, she ventured, “There would have been a lot more essays in it, such as ‘Cocktails for Your Cat’.” As it is, we’ve only got two paragraphs of what promised to be a funny piece on feline treats served as liquids and foams. (The text notes notes that “solid cat treats must be properly called cat hors d’oeuvres, and should be addressed in another volume.”)
Asked if Regarding Cocktails lacks any recipes she wanted to include but somehow couldn’t, she doesn’t hesitate: “Everything’s in there that he would have wanted in there. I know it in my gut.”
When Petraske died, his friends and admirers toasted his memory by lifting classic daiquiris. Not Hemingway daiquiris, not convoluted variations on the daiquiri, not high-fructose slush spewed from a daiquiri machine, just the real McCoy concocted with care. In Regarding Cocktails, Dutch Kills bartender Abraham Hawkins describes it as “a window into the technique and talent to make any shaken drink. [It’s] the test drink for anyone who wants to see what a bar or a bartender is all about.”
Daiquiri
7/8 oz to 1 oz fresh lime juice, to taste
3/4 oz simple syrup
2 oz white rum
Combine the lime juice, simple syrup, and rum in a cocktail shaker, add a 2-inch ice cube, and shake vigorously until the drink is sufficiently chilled. Strain into a chilled coupe.
Sasha Petraske's Regarding Cocktails is a moving tribute to the man who reinvented what it meant to go out to the bar.
The most beautiful cocktail book of the year doubles, sadly, as a work of memorial art. When author Sasha Petraske died—in August 2015, after a heart attack, at the age of 42—he had barely begun putting his thoughts on bartending into words.
But these thoughts, it cannot be said too forcefully, were substantial.
Petraske was his generation’s most influential bartender. The standards of mixing and service he set (first at New York’s Milk & Honey, then at bars ranging from London to Los Angeles to Melbourne) emerged within his lifetime as ideals taken for granted by bars all over the world. Atmospheric cocktail-den details that were simply expressions of his old-fashioned tastes in clothing and music—personal preferences for suspenders and swing jazz—went on to become, as abused by imitators, clichés in a few short years. The very concept of the 21-century speakeasy, a hush-hush watering hole guarded by passwords and esoteric entrances, owes itself to Petraske’s desire to run a tiny bar without annoying his neighbors.
Regarding Cocktails features recipes for 75 cocktails invented or perfected by Petraske and his colleagues, and bartenders in every civilized town in the world mix them every night. The book was completed by Petraske’s widow, Georgette Moger-Petraske, a journalist and copywriter.
Invited to discuss the book over drinks, she chose to meet at Little Branch, which her husband opened in the West Village in 2005. She wore her yellow-diamond engagement ring on her right hand and a complicated smile on her proud face. Complimented on the beauty of the book—the cool tone of its warm advice, the elegant illustrations by Studio Lin—she said, “Thank you. It’s an understatement saying it was a labor of love.”
They were married in May of 2015. He died three months after the honeymoon. In time, the publisher, Phaidon Press, raised the issue of what to do about their unfulfilled contract. She thought it over on a New Year’s trip to the Caribbean and reached her decision as her return flight brought the Manhattan skyline into view.
“I thought, I want to do this for Sasha and then get out,” she said. “I lived here for 15 years, and once I turned in the manuscript, I left.” She lives in Los Angeles now.
She settled into a back booth directly opposite an unassuming framed photograph of unpretentious Sasha. “Cocktails are not worth intellectualizing,” he once told an interviewer. “A cocktail is a simple thing—what matters is if you make it right.”
Source: Phaidon Press Ltd.We needed some drinks. Mrs. Petraske started with a Water Lily, a drink invented for her by Richard Boccato (Sasha’s partner in the pioneering Queens bar Dutch Kills). It tastes precisely like the violet candies a fond old family friend gave her in childhood. Her interviewer had a Red Hook, a Manhattan-like new classic by Vincenzo Errico, whom Sasha first met when opening a Milk & Honey in London.
“I wanted [the book] to seem like we were hosting a cocktail party,” she said. She succeeded, with the brisk recipe headnotes, contributed by her husband’s partners and protégés, approximating genial chatter and a selection of brief essays in back sparkling like wit or Champagne. “Sasha hated the word mixologist. He was a bartender. But I think he would really love that all of the credit was going to these bartenders he loved so much.”
Asked whether the book would have been different had her husband seen it through, she ventured, “There would have been a lot more essays in it, such as ‘Cocktails for Your Cat’.” As it is, we’ve only got two paragraphs of what promised to be a funny piece on feline treats served as liquids and foams. (The text notes notes that “solid cat treats must be properly called cat hors d’oeuvres, and should be addressed in another volume.”)
Asked if Regarding Cocktails lacks any recipes she wanted to include but somehow couldn’t, she doesn’t hesitate: “Everything’s in there that he would have wanted in there. I know it in my gut.”
When Petraske died, his friends and admirers toasted his memory by lifting classic daiquiris. Not Hemingway daiquiris, not convoluted variations on the daiquiri, not high-fructose slush spewed from a daiquiri machine, just the real McCoy concocted with care. In Regarding Cocktails, Dutch Kills bartender Abraham Hawkins describes it as “a window into the technique and talent to make any shaken drink. [It’s] the test drink for anyone who wants to see what a bar or a bartender is all about.”
Daiquiri
7/8 oz to 1 oz fresh lime juice, to taste
3/4 oz simple syrup
2 oz white rum
Combine the lime juice, simple syrup, and rum in a cocktail shaker, add a 2-inch ice cube, and shake vigorously until the drink is sufficiently chilled. Strain into a chilled coupe.
By Georgette Moger-Petraske
This week, Phaidon published Sasha Petraske’s Regarding Cocktails, a brilliant, bittersweet drink manual from the late creator of this century’s most influential drinking dens. In this excerpt, his widow pays tribute to Milk & Honey’s iconic 8-point code for patrons.
The legendary house rules of Milk & Honey were more than an etiquette guide for bar decorum. They could be read as a compass for consideration of others and self-governing, drawing comparison to the Rules of Civility & Decent Behavior in Company and Conversation, the set of sixteenth century precepts that guided a young George Washington as a schoolboy. Though Sasha’s beliefs were not from another age—graciousness, modesty, and decorum ought to be common conventions of society no matter the time. The modern cocktail bar had to be in an atrocious state when derricks were hooting, hollering, play fighting, name-dropping, and entertaining company who ran any risk of swinging from the rafters after two drinks. We can castigate, ad nauseam, the cloying cocktails and the manner in which they were served in the crepuscular days before Milk & Honey. So many of us sailing three sheets to the wind on rudderless ships navigated by misguided captains. Stormy weather, indeed.
The house rules were cast in bronze plaques on the bathroom doors of each of my husband’s bars— a gentle decree from a patient chief whose sole intention was to be a good neighbor, both to those living in the building at 134 and elsewhere on Eldridge Street. The plaques were frequently stolen, as compelling a novelty as any to a thief—a coveted conversation piece for the home bar. But why? Was there any irony in a request that all business be concluded before exiting? Was it at all out of line for the host to ask that conversations not focus on the famous or infamous who might be within the room? Was the precept that gentlemen conduct themselves as such really a demand so great?
The fifty-sixth maxim contained within the Rules of Civility states “For ‘tis better to be alone than in bad company.” Circa 2000, ladies knew that a few quiet drinks spared from the company of cads and clumsy introductions were a rare commodity at any cocktail bar. In point of fact, when I read the house rule encouraging ladies to shun unwelcome advances with a slight lift of chin and volumes of silence, I made frequent dates with thick books to Milk & Honey, so frequent that Richie Boccato created a signature drink for me, the Water Lily. The reverence and hum of the Eldridge Street bar was a sanctuary of seated patrons who were required to telephone before dropping in. It was a dim den where hats were hung reverently from hooks provided. And then there were the cocktails that were served on candlelit silver trays or respectfully slid toward patrons by bartenders bound by another code of rules.
Excerpted from Regarding Cocktails by Sasha Petraske with Georgette Moger-Petraske, Phaidon 2016
This week, Phaidon published Sasha Petraske’s Regarding Cocktails, a brilliant, bittersweet drink manual from the late creator of this century’s most influential drinking dens. In this excerpt, his widow pays tribute to Milk & Honey’s iconic 8-point code for patrons.
- No name-dropping, no star f*cking.
- No hooting, hollering, shouting, or other loud behavior.
- No fighting, no play fighting, no talking about fighting.
- Gentlemen will remove their hats. Hooks are provided.
- Gentlemen will not introduce themselves to ladies. Ladies, feel free to start a conversation or ask the bartender to introduce you. If a man you don't know speaks to you, please lift your chin slightly and ignore him.
- Do not linger outside the front door.
- Do not bring anyone unless you would leave that person alone in your home. You are responsible for the behavior of your guests.
- Exit the bar briskly and silently. People are trying to sleep across the street. Please make all your travel plans and say all farewells before leaving the bar.
The legendary house rules of Milk & Honey were more than an etiquette guide for bar decorum. They could be read as a compass for consideration of others and self-governing, drawing comparison to the Rules of Civility & Decent Behavior in Company and Conversation, the set of sixteenth century precepts that guided a young George Washington as a schoolboy. Though Sasha’s beliefs were not from another age—graciousness, modesty, and decorum ought to be common conventions of society no matter the time. The modern cocktail bar had to be in an atrocious state when derricks were hooting, hollering, play fighting, name-dropping, and entertaining company who ran any risk of swinging from the rafters after two drinks. We can castigate, ad nauseam, the cloying cocktails and the manner in which they were served in the crepuscular days before Milk & Honey. So many of us sailing three sheets to the wind on rudderless ships navigated by misguided captains. Stormy weather, indeed.
The house rules were cast in bronze plaques on the bathroom doors of each of my husband’s bars— a gentle decree from a patient chief whose sole intention was to be a good neighbor, both to those living in the building at 134 and elsewhere on Eldridge Street. The plaques were frequently stolen, as compelling a novelty as any to a thief—a coveted conversation piece for the home bar. But why? Was there any irony in a request that all business be concluded before exiting? Was it at all out of line for the host to ask that conversations not focus on the famous or infamous who might be within the room? Was the precept that gentlemen conduct themselves as such really a demand so great?
The fifty-sixth maxim contained within the Rules of Civility states “For ‘tis better to be alone than in bad company.” Circa 2000, ladies knew that a few quiet drinks spared from the company of cads and clumsy introductions were a rare commodity at any cocktail bar. In point of fact, when I read the house rule encouraging ladies to shun unwelcome advances with a slight lift of chin and volumes of silence, I made frequent dates with thick books to Milk & Honey, so frequent that Richie Boccato created a signature drink for me, the Water Lily. The reverence and hum of the Eldridge Street bar was a sanctuary of seated patrons who were required to telephone before dropping in. It was a dim den where hats were hung reverently from hooks provided. And then there were the cocktails that were served on candlelit silver trays or respectfully slid toward patrons by bartenders bound by another code of rules.
Excerpted from Regarding Cocktails by Sasha Petraske with Georgette Moger-Petraske, Phaidon 2016
Tales of the Cocktail: "Regarding Cocktails" Pays Loving Tribute to Visionary Barman Sasha Petraske
By Michael Anstendig
One of this year’s most eagerly awaited books in the drinks world, “Regarding Cocktails” (Sasha Petraske with Georgette Moger-Petraske/Phaidon, $29.95), officially debuts today. It is the only book on bartending visionary Sasha Petraske, which his wife, spirits writer Georgette Moger-Petraske, completed as a tribute to his timeless legacy of single-handedly changing cocktail culture. “Regarding Cocktails” contains 85 of Petraske’s signature drinks from Milk & Honey and his other game-changing bars, along with essays that capture his inimitable wit, wisdom and charm.
“It is equal parts liquid memoir, cocktail cookbook and reference guide for a successful home bar,” explains Moger-Petraske. “I would hope that readers would take away from the book the knowledge of how to create beautifully executed cocktails in their home, while learning stories of Sasha’s enduring legacy from his friends and bar family.”
While the void created by his untimely passing last year will never be filled, this book, a true labor of love, helps immortalize his voice and ensures that his gentle but uncompromising influence will endure for generations to come. The fact that tipplers can get a properly mixed cocktail in many bars and restaurants around the world is thanks, in part, to Petraske, who played a key role in restoring the cocktail as an elegant, yet unpretentious art form and the bar as a place of civilized social communion.
Through his award-winning bars and consulting projects, he galvanized a generation of bartenders and bar patrons alike as to what constitutes a precisely made, well-balanced drink, restored a sense of honor and purpose to the bartending profession and, through his oft-quoted house rules, taught us all the value of barroom decorum.
This past summer, Tales of the Cocktail saluted Petraske’s accomplishments with a Lifetime Achievement Award, which Moger-Petraske accepted on his behalf. Her gracious words at the Spirited Awards ceremony touched everyone in the grand ballroom, which was filled with love and respect for Petraske. Notably reticent, perhaps even shy, Petraske eschewed the spotlight and generally shunned media interviews. As such, it is a happy surprise that he agreed to write a book.
Sasha Petraske was a notoriously private man, known and loved best by his wife Georgette Moger-Petraske who has completed his book since his passing in 2015. Photo courtesy of Georgette Moger-Petraske.
“Sasha may have been a very private person, but he was always eager to share with those curious, the proper way to create, serve and present quality drinks,” says Moger-Petraske. “The presentation is a very important part of it — it’s a matter of delivering an exceptional product with grace — without excess explanation of what went into making it.”
His book was to be a guide to preparing Milk & Honey-grade drinks at home, something in the league of “The Savoy Cocktail Book.” While the book was far from complete, Moger-Petraske, an accomplished writer, took up the cause to bring his essays, insights and guidelines to the world. Faced with a tight deadline, she put her journalism career, as well as her novel, on hold.
The result perfectly captures Petraske’s wisdom in his own words, with quotes like, “If you’re serious about making cocktails at home, the first thing you have to do is take all the food out of your freezer and throw it away. It’ll add unwanted flavor to the ice, and you weren’t going to eat it anyway.”
Furthermore, she enlisted the support of the extended Milk & Honey family, about 20 bartenders whom Petraske had personally mentored. They shared their reminiscences of working with Petraske, how he inspired them, and the recipes and stories behind the drinks that reminded them most of him. These notables include Sam Ross, Joseph Schwartz, Eric Alperin, Toby Maloney, Richard Boccato, Theo Lieberman, Lucinda Sterling, Karin Stanley, Michael Madrusan, Chad Solomon, Christy Pope and others.
With forewards by Dale DeGroff and Robert Simonson, “Regarding Cocktails” also includes meticulous home bar set-up introductions, including glassware, equipment, garnishes and syrups. It demystifies the vast cocktail universe by being organized by five drink archetypes — The Old Fashioned, The Martini and the Manhattan, The Sour, The Highball and the Fix — variations of which underlie practically all drinks. There is an additional chapter on Punches, Flips, and Dessert and Temperance Cocktails.
Recipes span beloved classics and modern variations, including The Business, Gin & It, The Penicillin, The Gold Rush and Gordon’s Cup. “Regarding Cocktails” embraces Petraske’s ascetic aesthetic; in place of highly-produced photographs, there are simple but clever illustrations mapping out each drink’s components, with an annotated bookmark providing a handy legend. Seasoned bartenders, armchair mixologists and the intellectually curious will all find something to learn within this book’s covers.
“Regarding Cocktails” launched at a preview event at Ken Friedman and Chef April Bloomfield’s John Dory Oyster Bar in New York City, where Petraske consulted on the bar program and trained the bar staff. Each attendee, including journalists and bartenders, received a signed copy sporting a special seal from an embosser that Petraske had bestowed to Moger-Petraske to celebrate their engagement, a very personal touch.
Given the excellence of the Daiquiris, Fallbacks, KT Collinses and other tipples adroitly served, Petraske’s legacy was in full evidence. He would no doubt have been very proud of the event and this important book that Moger-Petraske is generously sharing with the world.
One of this year’s most eagerly awaited books in the drinks world, “Regarding Cocktails” (Sasha Petraske with Georgette Moger-Petraske/Phaidon, $29.95), officially debuts today. It is the only book on bartending visionary Sasha Petraske, which his wife, spirits writer Georgette Moger-Petraske, completed as a tribute to his timeless legacy of single-handedly changing cocktail culture. “Regarding Cocktails” contains 85 of Petraske’s signature drinks from Milk & Honey and his other game-changing bars, along with essays that capture his inimitable wit, wisdom and charm.
“It is equal parts liquid memoir, cocktail cookbook and reference guide for a successful home bar,” explains Moger-Petraske. “I would hope that readers would take away from the book the knowledge of how to create beautifully executed cocktails in their home, while learning stories of Sasha’s enduring legacy from his friends and bar family.”
While the void created by his untimely passing last year will never be filled, this book, a true labor of love, helps immortalize his voice and ensures that his gentle but uncompromising influence will endure for generations to come. The fact that tipplers can get a properly mixed cocktail in many bars and restaurants around the world is thanks, in part, to Petraske, who played a key role in restoring the cocktail as an elegant, yet unpretentious art form and the bar as a place of civilized social communion.
Through his award-winning bars and consulting projects, he galvanized a generation of bartenders and bar patrons alike as to what constitutes a precisely made, well-balanced drink, restored a sense of honor and purpose to the bartending profession and, through his oft-quoted house rules, taught us all the value of barroom decorum.
This past summer, Tales of the Cocktail saluted Petraske’s accomplishments with a Lifetime Achievement Award, which Moger-Petraske accepted on his behalf. Her gracious words at the Spirited Awards ceremony touched everyone in the grand ballroom, which was filled with love and respect for Petraske. Notably reticent, perhaps even shy, Petraske eschewed the spotlight and generally shunned media interviews. As such, it is a happy surprise that he agreed to write a book.
Sasha Petraske was a notoriously private man, known and loved best by his wife Georgette Moger-Petraske who has completed his book since his passing in 2015. Photo courtesy of Georgette Moger-Petraske.
“Sasha may have been a very private person, but he was always eager to share with those curious, the proper way to create, serve and present quality drinks,” says Moger-Petraske. “The presentation is a very important part of it — it’s a matter of delivering an exceptional product with grace — without excess explanation of what went into making it.”
His book was to be a guide to preparing Milk & Honey-grade drinks at home, something in the league of “The Savoy Cocktail Book.” While the book was far from complete, Moger-Petraske, an accomplished writer, took up the cause to bring his essays, insights and guidelines to the world. Faced with a tight deadline, she put her journalism career, as well as her novel, on hold.
The result perfectly captures Petraske’s wisdom in his own words, with quotes like, “If you’re serious about making cocktails at home, the first thing you have to do is take all the food out of your freezer and throw it away. It’ll add unwanted flavor to the ice, and you weren’t going to eat it anyway.”
Furthermore, she enlisted the support of the extended Milk & Honey family, about 20 bartenders whom Petraske had personally mentored. They shared their reminiscences of working with Petraske, how he inspired them, and the recipes and stories behind the drinks that reminded them most of him. These notables include Sam Ross, Joseph Schwartz, Eric Alperin, Toby Maloney, Richard Boccato, Theo Lieberman, Lucinda Sterling, Karin Stanley, Michael Madrusan, Chad Solomon, Christy Pope and others.
With forewards by Dale DeGroff and Robert Simonson, “Regarding Cocktails” also includes meticulous home bar set-up introductions, including glassware, equipment, garnishes and syrups. It demystifies the vast cocktail universe by being organized by five drink archetypes — The Old Fashioned, The Martini and the Manhattan, The Sour, The Highball and the Fix — variations of which underlie practically all drinks. There is an additional chapter on Punches, Flips, and Dessert and Temperance Cocktails.
Recipes span beloved classics and modern variations, including The Business, Gin & It, The Penicillin, The Gold Rush and Gordon’s Cup. “Regarding Cocktails” embraces Petraske’s ascetic aesthetic; in place of highly-produced photographs, there are simple but clever illustrations mapping out each drink’s components, with an annotated bookmark providing a handy legend. Seasoned bartenders, armchair mixologists and the intellectually curious will all find something to learn within this book’s covers.
“Regarding Cocktails” launched at a preview event at Ken Friedman and Chef April Bloomfield’s John Dory Oyster Bar in New York City, where Petraske consulted on the bar program and trained the bar staff. Each attendee, including journalists and bartenders, received a signed copy sporting a special seal from an embosser that Petraske had bestowed to Moger-Petraske to celebrate their engagement, a very personal touch.
Given the excellence of the Daiquiris, Fallbacks, KT Collinses and other tipples adroitly served, Petraske’s legacy was in full evidence. He would no doubt have been very proud of the event and this important book that Moger-Petraske is generously sharing with the world.
Supercall:
"Regarding Cocktails” is This Year’s Must Own Cocktail Recipe Book
by Dillon Mafit
Sasha Petraske was one of this generation’s most influential bartenders. Without him, the 21st century speakeasy, with its code of ethics and standards of service, may never have existed. Opened in 1999, the original Milk & Honey, helmed by Petraske, pioneered the way for the craft cocktail movement. When Petraske passed away from a heart attack in August 2015, he had just begun working with Phaidon Press on a book, an effort to translate his philosophy about mixing drinks and serving drinks, into essays and recipes. It remained unfinished—until now.
This year, Petraske’s wife, spirits writer Georgette Moger-Petraske, completed her late husband’s book with the help of his friends and colleagues. Regarding Cocktails can be defined as the couple’s masterpiece. Featuring 75 cocktails invented by the brilliant bartender himself along with his apprentices and friends, the book, with its minimalist burgundy cover, is understated, elegant and proof of one man’s lasting legacy.
We had the pleasure speaking with Georgette Petraske about Regarding Cocktails, her husband’s incredible influence over modern day bar culture and feline-friendly cocktails.
Supercall: How did you come to the decision to finish your husband’s book?
Georgette Petraske: If the tables were turned, Sasha would have finished the book I was working on for me. It’s just what you do for someone you love.
SC: How far along was the book when you picked it up?
GP: Sasha had begun only a rough outline. There was an essay on garnishes, “Consider the Peacock,” which he wrote and I edited while we were in Texas for the San Antonio Cocktail Conference. “Setting up the Home Bar” was largely finished, but sadly, his “Cocktails for Cats” essay was not. He felt the latter was just as important as the former.
SC: What was your involvement in Sasha’s bars? Did you ever have an opportunity to get behind the stick?
GP: At Milk & Honey, I’d help Sasha with tastings to perfect recipes or help him create new cocktails. The only time my husband and I would “work” together was at our own cocktail parties. We had a very Nick and Nora approach to entertaining—he’d be holding court, mixing drinks in the kitchen and I’d be dashing about with a tray of canapés and a penguin pitcher.
SC: How do you think Sasha affected the bartending community?
GP: Sasha was far too humble to ever admit his influence on the bartending community, but over the past 15 years, his vision slowly seeped in from bar to bar—whether it was by way of perfect wash lines, refined ice programs, bartenders pulling juices a la minute, or the delicate drops of Peychaud's atop your swizzle. It was something that was palpable the world over—I’d be sent on assignment to places as far as Shanghai or Fiji, and all of the hotel’s top bartenders I spoke to aspired to the Milk & Honey school of mixing drinks.
SC: What impact do you think the book will have on the next generation of bartenders?
GP: While I am hoping that the book inspires the young bartender to create balanced and meticulous cocktails, I also want them to take away from it the lessons of etiquette, the degree of humility and graciousness that stands behind the noble job title of bartender. For the new generation, it might begin by eliminating the word mixologist from your calling card.
SC: The books seems like a true collaboration, with contributions from some really great talents. How did that come about?
GP: The idea to get all the contributors involved came about so naturally. While I had all of the recipes in our home bar, it seemed like it would have been just another cocktail book if there were no stories behind the beverages. Who better to tell the stories, than the bartenders trained by, and who created these drinks alongside my husband? Everyone gathered their favorites from the Milk & Honey archives—from there, I asked each bartender to tell a Sasha story surrounding the drink. Then the essays followed, and finally, the wonderful forewords from Robert Simonson and Dale DeGroff. It created something akin to a family album—a liquid memoir.
SC: The illustrations are beautiful. What was the inspiration behind the book’s minimalist graphic design?
GP: Phaidon and I agreed that the world did not need another cocktail book full of high pouring cuffs and backlit crystal barware. They worked with Alex Lin and his team at Studio Lin to create the illustrations that accompany each recipe. I wasn’t too keen on readers having to flip back and forth to the beginning of the book to look at the legend every time they made a cocktail, so I pushed for a functional, ribbon-tied bookmark that could be pulled along for every drink. I was so happy when Phaidon agreed to this vision—I think Sasha would have loved this detail too.
SC: Did Sasha really make cocktails for your cats?
GP: He incorporated the same care and perfectionism into their feedings as he did making formal cocktails. Sasha would slip a little foil packet of lobster from the John Dory into his guayabera to bring to his cat Maggie. For our Anoushka, he was always filling her coupe to the proper wash line with the coldest filtered water possible.
Sasha Petraske was one of this generation’s most influential bartenders. Without him, the 21st century speakeasy, with its code of ethics and standards of service, may never have existed. Opened in 1999, the original Milk & Honey, helmed by Petraske, pioneered the way for the craft cocktail movement. When Petraske passed away from a heart attack in August 2015, he had just begun working with Phaidon Press on a book, an effort to translate his philosophy about mixing drinks and serving drinks, into essays and recipes. It remained unfinished—until now.
This year, Petraske’s wife, spirits writer Georgette Moger-Petraske, completed her late husband’s book with the help of his friends and colleagues. Regarding Cocktails can be defined as the couple’s masterpiece. Featuring 75 cocktails invented by the brilliant bartender himself along with his apprentices and friends, the book, with its minimalist burgundy cover, is understated, elegant and proof of one man’s lasting legacy.
We had the pleasure speaking with Georgette Petraske about Regarding Cocktails, her husband’s incredible influence over modern day bar culture and feline-friendly cocktails.
Supercall: How did you come to the decision to finish your husband’s book?
Georgette Petraske: If the tables were turned, Sasha would have finished the book I was working on for me. It’s just what you do for someone you love.
SC: How far along was the book when you picked it up?
GP: Sasha had begun only a rough outline. There was an essay on garnishes, “Consider the Peacock,” which he wrote and I edited while we were in Texas for the San Antonio Cocktail Conference. “Setting up the Home Bar” was largely finished, but sadly, his “Cocktails for Cats” essay was not. He felt the latter was just as important as the former.
SC: What was your involvement in Sasha’s bars? Did you ever have an opportunity to get behind the stick?
GP: At Milk & Honey, I’d help Sasha with tastings to perfect recipes or help him create new cocktails. The only time my husband and I would “work” together was at our own cocktail parties. We had a very Nick and Nora approach to entertaining—he’d be holding court, mixing drinks in the kitchen and I’d be dashing about with a tray of canapés and a penguin pitcher.
SC: How do you think Sasha affected the bartending community?
GP: Sasha was far too humble to ever admit his influence on the bartending community, but over the past 15 years, his vision slowly seeped in from bar to bar—whether it was by way of perfect wash lines, refined ice programs, bartenders pulling juices a la minute, or the delicate drops of Peychaud's atop your swizzle. It was something that was palpable the world over—I’d be sent on assignment to places as far as Shanghai or Fiji, and all of the hotel’s top bartenders I spoke to aspired to the Milk & Honey school of mixing drinks.
SC: What impact do you think the book will have on the next generation of bartenders?
GP: While I am hoping that the book inspires the young bartender to create balanced and meticulous cocktails, I also want them to take away from it the lessons of etiquette, the degree of humility and graciousness that stands behind the noble job title of bartender. For the new generation, it might begin by eliminating the word mixologist from your calling card.
SC: The books seems like a true collaboration, with contributions from some really great talents. How did that come about?
GP: The idea to get all the contributors involved came about so naturally. While I had all of the recipes in our home bar, it seemed like it would have been just another cocktail book if there were no stories behind the beverages. Who better to tell the stories, than the bartenders trained by, and who created these drinks alongside my husband? Everyone gathered their favorites from the Milk & Honey archives—from there, I asked each bartender to tell a Sasha story surrounding the drink. Then the essays followed, and finally, the wonderful forewords from Robert Simonson and Dale DeGroff. It created something akin to a family album—a liquid memoir.
SC: The illustrations are beautiful. What was the inspiration behind the book’s minimalist graphic design?
GP: Phaidon and I agreed that the world did not need another cocktail book full of high pouring cuffs and backlit crystal barware. They worked with Alex Lin and his team at Studio Lin to create the illustrations that accompany each recipe. I wasn’t too keen on readers having to flip back and forth to the beginning of the book to look at the legend every time they made a cocktail, so I pushed for a functional, ribbon-tied bookmark that could be pulled along for every drink. I was so happy when Phaidon agreed to this vision—I think Sasha would have loved this detail too.
SC: Did Sasha really make cocktails for your cats?
GP: He incorporated the same care and perfectionism into their feedings as he did making formal cocktails. Sasha would slip a little foil packet of lobster from the John Dory into his guayabera to bring to his cat Maggie. For our Anoushka, he was always filling her coupe to the proper wash line with the coldest filtered water possible.
Publishers Weekly:
Phaidon Breaks New Ground with Milk & Honey Cocktail Book
By Clare Swanson
In 2000, When Sasha Petraske opened Milk & Honey, his now-legendary cocktail bar in Manhattan’s Lower East Side, he shifted cocktail culture in the United States, resurrecting pre-prohibition concoctions served in a speakeasy setting. He died suddenly in 2015 at the age of 42, and the cocktail world mourned, with the New York Times obituary calling Petraske’s role in the modern cocktail revival “difficult to overstate.” At the time, Petraske was working on his first cocktail recipe book, and with the help of his wife Georgette Moger-Petraske and the legions of bartenders who were schooled under his tutelage, the book was completed, and will be released by Phaidon on October 31.
The book, titled Regarding Cocktails, includes 85 cocktail recipes, as well as stories and recollections from the bartenders Petraske trained. According to Phaidon's executive commissioning editor for cookbooks Emily Takoudes, the publisher began to explore the idea of a cocktail recipe book several years ago, and after meeting with Petraske in November 2014, developed the concept and laid the groundwork for the book—which would be an “accessible and beautiful book that would be for the home bartender, and also a reference for the professional community,” said Takoudes.
“Before Sasha’s passing we had worked closely on the content that he wanted to include, the ways in which the book would be organized, the size of the book, how he wanted it to feel in a user’s hands,” said Takoudes. After he died, the team at Phaidon and Moger-Petraske reoriented the book, using his original vision to guide the process. “We were...fortunate to have [Sasha’s] tight-knit bartender community fully embrace the project, and in the book they share stories and cocktail recipes, including many of Sasha's original recipes that he had taught them,” said Takoudes. “And instead of the traditional photographs of cocktails accompanying each recipe, we wanted a visual element that would be unique, like Sasha, and commissioned architectural-like diagrams.”
The title marks new territory for Phaidon as the publisher’s first cocktail recipe book, and is a part the company’s larger interest in growing its cocktail and beverage list. “There is so much exciting work happening in this area and an eager audience that wants to learn more,” said Takoudes. “So we made an active decision to commission more beverage books.” In 2017, Phaidon will be publishing Where Bartenders Drink, edited by Adrienne Stillman, and Where to Drink Coffee, edited by Liz Clayton and Avidan Ross.
The publisher’s first beverage book, Food & Beer by Daniel Burns & Jeppe Jarnit-Bjergso (of Luksus and Torst in Brooklyn), was released in May. “It was an exciting concept led by the idea that beer could be elevated to the level of wine in fine dining,” said Takoudes. “That began the new category for us and we started to think about other unique approaches to this category. It was around that time that we simultaneously explored the idea of a cocktail recipe book, which led to Regarding Cocktails.”
The launch event for Regarding Cocktails will be held at the John Dory in New York City, where Petraske acted a bar consultant (his name still appears on the bar menu). Phaidon publicity director Meg Parsont said that the publisher is focusing on "people and places deeply connected to Sasha."
In 2000, When Sasha Petraske opened Milk & Honey, his now-legendary cocktail bar in Manhattan’s Lower East Side, he shifted cocktail culture in the United States, resurrecting pre-prohibition concoctions served in a speakeasy setting. He died suddenly in 2015 at the age of 42, and the cocktail world mourned, with the New York Times obituary calling Petraske’s role in the modern cocktail revival “difficult to overstate.” At the time, Petraske was working on his first cocktail recipe book, and with the help of his wife Georgette Moger-Petraske and the legions of bartenders who were schooled under his tutelage, the book was completed, and will be released by Phaidon on October 31.
The book, titled Regarding Cocktails, includes 85 cocktail recipes, as well as stories and recollections from the bartenders Petraske trained. According to Phaidon's executive commissioning editor for cookbooks Emily Takoudes, the publisher began to explore the idea of a cocktail recipe book several years ago, and after meeting with Petraske in November 2014, developed the concept and laid the groundwork for the book—which would be an “accessible and beautiful book that would be for the home bartender, and also a reference for the professional community,” said Takoudes.
“Before Sasha’s passing we had worked closely on the content that he wanted to include, the ways in which the book would be organized, the size of the book, how he wanted it to feel in a user’s hands,” said Takoudes. After he died, the team at Phaidon and Moger-Petraske reoriented the book, using his original vision to guide the process. “We were...fortunate to have [Sasha’s] tight-knit bartender community fully embrace the project, and in the book they share stories and cocktail recipes, including many of Sasha's original recipes that he had taught them,” said Takoudes. “And instead of the traditional photographs of cocktails accompanying each recipe, we wanted a visual element that would be unique, like Sasha, and commissioned architectural-like diagrams.”
The title marks new territory for Phaidon as the publisher’s first cocktail recipe book, and is a part the company’s larger interest in growing its cocktail and beverage list. “There is so much exciting work happening in this area and an eager audience that wants to learn more,” said Takoudes. “So we made an active decision to commission more beverage books.” In 2017, Phaidon will be publishing Where Bartenders Drink, edited by Adrienne Stillman, and Where to Drink Coffee, edited by Liz Clayton and Avidan Ross.
The publisher’s first beverage book, Food & Beer by Daniel Burns & Jeppe Jarnit-Bjergso (of Luksus and Torst in Brooklyn), was released in May. “It was an exciting concept led by the idea that beer could be elevated to the level of wine in fine dining,” said Takoudes. “That began the new category for us and we started to think about other unique approaches to this category. It was around that time that we simultaneously explored the idea of a cocktail recipe book, which led to Regarding Cocktails.”
The launch event for Regarding Cocktails will be held at the John Dory in New York City, where Petraske acted a bar consultant (his name still appears on the bar menu). Phaidon publicity director Meg Parsont said that the publisher is focusing on "people and places deeply connected to Sasha."
VinePair: The Rules Everyone Should Follow at Cocktail Bars
In the world of craft cocktails, there was before Sasha Petraske and after Sasha Petraske. When the famed bartender died at the tender age of 42 last year, he left the world altered for his impact upon it. He is the father of the modern speakeasy, the first to wear suspenders and secretly guard the entrance to his first bar, Milk & Honey (you needed the phone number to make a reservation; the number was unlisted). The cocktails he served at Milk & Honey were rigorously crafted and constructed, but for Petraske, it wasn’t just about style. “When it comes down to it, the Milk & Honey way is not an intellectual way of drinking, talking about cocktails,” he told The New York Times in an interview. “That’s just silly. It has its place. It can be thrilling to catch bits of inside baseball. But it’s nothing that needs to be talked about. Cocktails are to be experienced.” That experience needed to be cultivated and protected, and to that end, Petraske hung a list of rules in the bar so patrons would understand the culture that came with craft cocktails.
“Regarding Cocktails“ is a little book featuring recipes for 85 cocktails invented or perfected by Petraske and his colleagues, interspersed with stories from the bartenders Petraske trained. After his sudden, untimely death, Petraske’s widow, Georgette Moger-Petraske, pulled it together, and it’s now on sale from Phaidon. Below is an excerpt, written by Moger-Petraske, which exemplifies the rules and culture of Milk & Honey. We also included a cocktail recipe for one of Petraske’s classics.
REGARDING MILK & HONEY HOUSE RULES (OR, THE SASHA PETRASKE FINISHING SCHOOL FOR PATRONS) BY GEORGETTE MOGER-PETRASKE
The legendary house rules of Milk & Honey were more than an etiquette guide for bar decorum. They could be read as a compass for consideration of others and self-governing, drawing comparison to the Rules of Civility & Decent Behavior in Company and Conversation, the set of sixteenth century precepts that guided a young George Washington as a schoolboy. Though Sasha’s beliefs were not from another age—graciousness, modesty, and decorum ought to be common conventions of society no matter the time. The modern cocktail bar had to be in an atrocious state when derricks were hooting, hollering, play fighting, name-dropping, and entertaining company who ran any risk of swinging from the rafters after two drinks. We can castigate, ad nauseam, the cloying cocktails and the manner in which they were served in the crepuscular days before Milk & Honey. So many of us sailing three sheets to the wind on rudderless ships navigated by misguided captains. Stormy weather, indeed.
The house rules were cast in bronze plaques on the bathroom doors of each of my husband’s bars— a gentle decree from a patient chief whose sole intention was to be a good neighbor, both to those living in the building at 134 and elsewhere on Eldridge Street. The plaques were frequently stolen, as compelling a novelty as any to a thief—a coveted conversation piece for the home bar. But why? Was there any irony in a request that all business be concluded before exiting? Was it at all out of line for the host to ask that conversations not focus on the famous or infamous who might be within the room? Was the precept that gentlemen conduct themselves as such really a demand so great?
The fifty-sixth maxim contained within the Rules of Civility states “For ‘tis better to be alone than in bad company.” Circa 2000, ladies knew that a few quiet drinks spared from the company of cads and clumsy introductions were a rare commodity at any cocktail bar. In point of fact, when I read the house rule encouraging ladies to shun unwelcome advances with a slight lift of chin and volumes of silence, I made frequent dates with thick books to Milk & Honey, so frequent that Richie Boccato created a signature drink for me, the Water Lily. The reverence and hum of the Eldridge Street bar was a sanctuary of seated patrons who were required to telephone before dropping in. It was a dim den where hats were hung reverently from hooks provided. And then there were the cocktails that were served on candlelit silver trays or respectfully slid toward patrons by bartenders bound by another code of rules.
GIN & IT
This is right up there with The Business (page 85); I can’t think of a cocktail that is more expressly my husband. We both loved this drink so much that we batched it into Mason jars and gave them out as our wedding favors with Milk & Honey coupes. Originally this cocktail was sipped at room temperature. Adding ice to chill and increase water content is a contemporary evolution, and this method has now fallen into favor.
“It” is short for Italian vermouth, and the original recipe from the 1905 Ho man House Bartender’s Guide: How to Open a Saloon and Make it Pay (R.K. Fox, January 1905) calls for 2 1⁄2 ounces gin and 1⁄2 ounce sweet Italian vermouth, but Sasha and I only ever drank it with a 2:1 gin-to-vermouth ratio.
—Georgette Moger-Petraske
2 oz (60 ml) gin
1 oz (30 ml) sweet vermouth A lemon twist, for garnish
Stir the gin and vermouth in an ice-filled mixing glass until sufficiently chilled. Strain into a chilled coupe. Twist the lemon peel over the glass to extract the oils, then garnish the drink with the twist.
“Regarding Cocktails“ is a little book featuring recipes for 85 cocktails invented or perfected by Petraske and his colleagues, interspersed with stories from the bartenders Petraske trained. After his sudden, untimely death, Petraske’s widow, Georgette Moger-Petraske, pulled it together, and it’s now on sale from Phaidon. Below is an excerpt, written by Moger-Petraske, which exemplifies the rules and culture of Milk & Honey. We also included a cocktail recipe for one of Petraske’s classics.
REGARDING MILK & HONEY HOUSE RULES (OR, THE SASHA PETRASKE FINISHING SCHOOL FOR PATRONS) BY GEORGETTE MOGER-PETRASKE
- No name-dropping, no star f*cking.
- No hooting, hollering, shouting, or other loud behavior.
- No fighting, no play fighting, no talking about fighting.
- Gentlemen will remove their hats. Hooks are provided.
- Gentlemen will not introduce themselves to ladies. Ladies, feel free to start a conversation or ask the bartender to introduce you. If a man you don’t know speaks to you, please lift your chin slightly and ignore him.
- Do not linger outside the front door.
- Do not bring anyone unless you would leave that person alone in your home. You are responsible for the behavior of your guests.
- Exit the bar briskly and silently. People are trying to sleep across the street. Please make all your travel plans and say all farewells before leaving the bar.
The legendary house rules of Milk & Honey were more than an etiquette guide for bar decorum. They could be read as a compass for consideration of others and self-governing, drawing comparison to the Rules of Civility & Decent Behavior in Company and Conversation, the set of sixteenth century precepts that guided a young George Washington as a schoolboy. Though Sasha’s beliefs were not from another age—graciousness, modesty, and decorum ought to be common conventions of society no matter the time. The modern cocktail bar had to be in an atrocious state when derricks were hooting, hollering, play fighting, name-dropping, and entertaining company who ran any risk of swinging from the rafters after two drinks. We can castigate, ad nauseam, the cloying cocktails and the manner in which they were served in the crepuscular days before Milk & Honey. So many of us sailing three sheets to the wind on rudderless ships navigated by misguided captains. Stormy weather, indeed.
The house rules were cast in bronze plaques on the bathroom doors of each of my husband’s bars— a gentle decree from a patient chief whose sole intention was to be a good neighbor, both to those living in the building at 134 and elsewhere on Eldridge Street. The plaques were frequently stolen, as compelling a novelty as any to a thief—a coveted conversation piece for the home bar. But why? Was there any irony in a request that all business be concluded before exiting? Was it at all out of line for the host to ask that conversations not focus on the famous or infamous who might be within the room? Was the precept that gentlemen conduct themselves as such really a demand so great?
The fifty-sixth maxim contained within the Rules of Civility states “For ‘tis better to be alone than in bad company.” Circa 2000, ladies knew that a few quiet drinks spared from the company of cads and clumsy introductions were a rare commodity at any cocktail bar. In point of fact, when I read the house rule encouraging ladies to shun unwelcome advances with a slight lift of chin and volumes of silence, I made frequent dates with thick books to Milk & Honey, so frequent that Richie Boccato created a signature drink for me, the Water Lily. The reverence and hum of the Eldridge Street bar was a sanctuary of seated patrons who were required to telephone before dropping in. It was a dim den where hats were hung reverently from hooks provided. And then there were the cocktails that were served on candlelit silver trays or respectfully slid toward patrons by bartenders bound by another code of rules.
GIN & IT
This is right up there with The Business (page 85); I can’t think of a cocktail that is more expressly my husband. We both loved this drink so much that we batched it into Mason jars and gave them out as our wedding favors with Milk & Honey coupes. Originally this cocktail was sipped at room temperature. Adding ice to chill and increase water content is a contemporary evolution, and this method has now fallen into favor.
“It” is short for Italian vermouth, and the original recipe from the 1905 Ho man House Bartender’s Guide: How to Open a Saloon and Make it Pay (R.K. Fox, January 1905) calls for 2 1⁄2 ounces gin and 1⁄2 ounce sweet Italian vermouth, but Sasha and I only ever drank it with a 2:1 gin-to-vermouth ratio.
—Georgette Moger-Petraske
2 oz (60 ml) gin
1 oz (30 ml) sweet vermouth A lemon twist, for garnish
Stir the gin and vermouth in an ice-filled mixing glass until sufficiently chilled. Strain into a chilled coupe. Twist the lemon peel over the glass to extract the oils, then garnish the drink with the twist.