The joke in many bartending schools is that a Cosmopolitan is made with the four C's: Citron, Cointreau, cranberry and crap (aka lime juice). You won't find any of that in the Cosmo served at Cole's, the century-old French dip restaurant in Downtown L.A. recently restored by Cedd Moses for $1.6 million. Cole's specializes in well-crafted classic cocktails, and its Cosmo adheres to a 1926 recipe: gin, fresh lemon juice, raspberry-infused simple syrup, orange zest and an orange-peel garnish.
Eric Alperin, who consulted on Cole's cocktail menu with NYC legend Sasha Petraske, tips his hat to the old days by using precise measurements of balanced ingredients, which he serves teeth-shatteringly cold in 5.5-ounce glasses. These aren't the oversize, V-shaped drinks of "Sex and the City," but something closer to the distinguished cocktails of "Casablanca."
A few years ago, it was hard to find bars specializing in classic cocktails unless you went to a historic haunt like Musso & Frank Grill, where the bartenders are old enough to remember that a proper Champagne cocktail has a sugar cube dashed with Angostura bitters. At other bars, it seemed bartending had gone the way of premade ingredients, syrupy-sweet drinks and "Cocktail"-like theatrics—emphasizing convenience over craft and style over substance.
More recently, a subculture of bartenders dedicated to reviving classic cocktails has been on the rise. Cole's is one example of the trend; the newly opened Bar Centro at the Bazaar by José Andrés, located in SBE's new SLS Hotel, is another. But while Cole's keeps things decidedly old-school, Bar Centro takes a different approach. Critically acclaimed Spanish chef Andrés applies scientific culinary techniques to his cocktails, though he insists his work isn't as complicated as it looks. "You don't need to go too far out of the box," he says. "Just look around the kitchen."
Andrés' bartenders are trained to think like cooks, and seeing them at work is like watching an episode of "Iron Chef." Take Bar Centro's "new classic" Manhattan cocktail, for example: Instead of the expected maraschino-cherry garnish, this version is adorned with a "liquid cherry," a gel-like sphere filled with cherry-flavored liquid.
Think it's impossible to freeze liquor? All it takes is liquid nitrogen (at minus 196 degrees Celsius), and poof—raspberry daiquiri sorbet! "It's a big show," says Lucas Paya, beverage director of THINKfoodGROUP, which is working on the drink menu at SLS. But, he warns, "A drink can have a great presentation, but it needs to taste balanced." Andrés agrees: "You must understand the drink before you can evolve it."
With trendy spots like S Bar serving drinks made with hand-pressed yellow bell peppers and the perennially packed Bar Lubitsch specializing in precisely executed vodka libations, many connoisseurs feel the cocktail craze, which really only started to take hold in L.A. during the past two years, has already spun out of control. Mention "mixology" to Eater LA Editor Lesley Balla, who recently called a moratorium on the term, and she might toss her computer out the window.
The backlash can even be felt at the movement's epicenter. "'Mixology' sounds like I should be in a scientific lab doing medical research, not behind a bar," says Alperin. Andrés cringes at "molecular gastronomy," a term often applied to his work; he says it sounds like food made in the microwave.
To Alperin and Andrés, their cocktail creations are living history. Bar Centro's approach may brim with more bravado than Cole's streamlined techniques, but the goal is the same: bringing back the lost art of bartending, and making it accessible to the people.
Take a virtual tour of Cole's to "sample" the cocktails»
See Bar Centro's cocktails—they're as gorgeous as the venue»
Navigate L.A.'s best cocktail bars»
Alexandra Le Tellier is Bars & Clubs editor for Metromix Los Angeles.



