I found a little book called the Official Mixer's Manual in one of Portland's many second-hand shops. It had no jacket and and an unassuming cloth binding. The print and paper quality was low; I'd never heard of the publisher. It looked like the kind of thing a book club would send you. But hidden inside was a store of knowledge from a gone time.
Patrick Gavin Duffy waited on some of the great personages of the late 19th and early 20th century: Oscar Wilde, William Jennings Bryan, Cecil B. DeMille. He believed the bartender should wear a jacket with a flower in his lapel and serve the customer's drink rapidly and with a minimum of conversation. He disdained the label "professor" or "mixologist" for bartenders, calling them "nonsense". He was that species of quiet tradesman whose sense of professional pride and tradition were mixed in an ideal proportion.
I took all this in at a glance, then read the following words: "With very few exceptions, cocktails should be stirred and not shaken. A stirred cocktail is clear and fresh and retains its vitality. A shaken cocktail is muddy in appearance and has had so much ice diluted into it that it is a very insipid affair."
Enter The Savoy Cocktail Book, by the justly famous Harry Craddock, late of the American Bar at the Savoy Hotel in London. When Alex and I were living off SE 37th and Franklin this was our guide in things cocktail. It fairly screamed homburgs, slicked-back hair and martini pitchers. There is no arguing with the guide's influence, authenticity and value as a document.
Imagine my dismay, then, when I noticed that practically every recipe calls for a shaken cocktail! Not only that, but Mr. Craddock pleads with us to "Shake the shaker as hard as you can: don't just rock it: you are trying to wake it up, not send it to sleep!"
What the devil am I supposed to do now? As I write it becomes clear: listen to the words of the immortal Cole Porter: "Life's too mysterious, don't take it serious." Then mix in a dash of common sense. I think Mr. Duffy's advice is good, what he says makes sense. So I would follow it. On the other hand, if you shake a drink as Mr. Craddock advised, and you like it, then tant mieux.
I am not a "foodie". I hate that term. I am not even an expert. I am interested in the history that these recipes represent and I detect a sour note in our national music these days, a lack of swing. This makes me very sad. We are Americans, we must swing. Sometime, we must swing. This is not to say all must be swing, no, no. But you must be able to hear that jazz.
This also means somewhere, somehow, someone must be able to laugh and have a drink at the same time.
If you can find a copy of The Official Mixer's Manual by Patrick Gavin Duffy, Alta Publications 1934, and The Savoy Cocktail Book by Harry Craddock, Constable & Co. 1930 (newer editions exist; Pavilion published an edition of TSCB in 1999), buy them. I've seen both titles on Amazon moderately- to modestly-priced.
Also, bookmark the Cocktail DB, a comprehensive resource for anyone researching these cocktails. The publishers have provided not only detailed descriptions of drink ingredients, but photo galleries of past and present examples in the bottle; pretty important when you're looking for something in the liquor store. Not only that, but some of the labels display really beautiful graphic design. They have also published their bibliography, an impressive list of cocktail guides past and present, starting in 1755 (!). It's available as a PDF.
You might also find the Oregon Liquor Control Commission's liquor search useful. It's a database of available drinks and the stores that carry them. Not every liquor store participates in the program, so it's not comprehensive, but it's a good place to start if you're looking for one particular ingredient.
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