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Really, if you're going to use any vermouth, make sure it's fresh; stale vermouth has to be a contributing factor to the common preference for extra- extra-dry gin Martinis- surely gin drinkers aren't afraid to taste aromatic botanicals.

Typically I prefer rye for mixing and bourbon for sipping, but bourbon has a beautiful synergy with Campari, so I always use it in a Boulevardier, and it works well with champagne- much better than rye does; try a Seelbach, or, hell, try bourbon, Campari, and sparkling wine, which is, surprisingly, a very pleasant drink, in my opinion.

The second my girlfriend saw David Wondrich's piece on vodka in the most recent Esquire, she said, "That's it- now vodka's going to be cool again."

The number one trend I would like to see in "craft cocktail" bars would be better service. The horrible, arrogant service I've received in the vast majority of Seattle cocktail bars is why I mostly only drink cocktails at home, and when I go out to bars, I pick places I wouldn't trust the bartender to make a decent gin and tonic, as long as they pour my beer and my shot with a smile.

The other thing would be better drinks. I see a lot of "craft" drinks as upmarket versions of the vodka-sugar-fruit juice trend, designed to cover up the flavor of the booze with way too much sweet stuff. It's great that that drink has yellow Chartreuse in it, buddy, but I don't want to drink that stuff by the ounce.

And yet, sometimes, it's nice to do something special, beyond cracking a Budweiser, or broiling up a piece of skinless chicken breast.

This is a recent favorite, though I would usually default the vermouth closer to a 1/2 oz. With all these different botanicals going, we could each follow the basic formula using different products and have radically different drinks. Plymouth works well, Tanqueray is actually really delicious...I've found all the classic brands work well, but have yet to try some of the newer styles of gin. I've served this up to several customers and it never fails to please. A complex and delicious potion.

When did Gary become Gaz?

Daisy de Santiago-

2 oz Bacardi 8
3/4 oz lime juice
dash of simple syrup (preferably Demerara sugar)

Shake and pour in a long tumbler over crushed ice. Pour in:

1/2 oz yellow Chartreuse

Top off with soda water. Garnish with a sprig of mint and a couple of strawberries.

Of course you're well aware, Paul, that even here in Seattle, you're usually better off enjoying a draft beer and a shot of something you don't have at home. Even if a place does use fresh fruit, it doesn't mean the good folks behind the bar know how to use it- I can tell you firsthand it's a training issue. But this is a whole other, rather deep, topic...

Anyway...the poor, mistreated Margarita. The ones you get at "Mexican" restaurants (shot of Cuervo Gold, four or five ounces of the green stuff, a float of Grand Marnier if you pay a buck-fifty more) are awful, but the ones that baffle me are the ones where they muddle, oh, a fistful of lime wedges, add a decent tequila and some Cointreau...and then top the whole thing off with the stuff from the gun. Why, guys? Why?

@Likeswords, the problem with even fresh sour mix is that it's pre-sweetened. Which makes it fine, I guess, for a whiskey sour, but something like a Sidecar doesn't necessarily need any additional sugar- if you find the frequently recommended 2:1:1 ratio for sour drinks too tart, screw with the ratios until you get what you want. I haven't tried freezing citrus juice, but I've been told it works reasonably well as a backup.

A bartender's job is to oversee his or her bar and see to the needs and wants of his or her customers- within reason, of course. Pouring drinks and take money for them is only part of the equation, which also includes making conversation with guests, listening to people's stories, determining when someone's had enough to drink, making recommendations to customers who don't know what they want, introducing people to one another, defusing difficult and intense situations, and generally being the human face of the business they work for. That brings people in the door, and that's why bars aren't staffed by robots...yet. A bartender who thinks and acts otherwise gives a respectable occupation a bad name, and if he works next to me, he's taking money out of my pocket. Embarrassed or pissed off customers don't come back.

Deb, I'd say your feelings of being "ripped off" stems from an overdeveloped sense of entitlement. The markup you talk about pays the restaurant's rent, giving you a place to eat and providing storage for the wine; it covers labor- both the people who serve you the wine and the people who select the wines that go on the list; it pays for the frequently-broken glassware you drink out of; the chairs you sit in and the tables you sit at; essentially, all of the things you leave your house for are possible because of the fact that it costs more to eat and drink in a restaurant than it does at home.

There's nothing wrong with bringing a special bottle of wine to a special occasion in a restaurant. But regularly bringing what you call "ordinary wine" because you're cheap and you're too ignorant to realize that restaurants aren't just the same as your house with the exception of it being less work for you? Maybe you should start bringing your own appetizers as well. Maybe you should start bringing your own appetizers, too. I don't know, those calamari seem overpriced to me. You know, I think I'm going to start taking my own oil to the garage where I get my car serviced.

For those of you who want to bring your own wine, here are some pointers:

- This should be reserved for special wines on special occasions. Make sure the restaurant doesn't have the wine you want to drink on their list. Bringing a bottle that they already have is considered extremely rude by people with manners. And classless by people with class.

- Be generous with servers who are generous with you. By which I mean, you aren't expected to tip on what the restaurant would have charged for the bottle, but if the waiter gives you good service, consider the fact that you would've spent more money had you ordered off the list and throw a little extra in. Also, servers are, frequently, people who are interested in wine. If you aren't, say, trying to split a 750 ml bottle seven ways, they may very well be interested in a little taste of what you brought, and even in hearing what you like about it. That said, if the server grumbles when you show him your bottle of wine, he doesn't really want your tip all that badly, anyway.

- If you're planning on regularly bringing your own wine, and if your logic is that, from the restaurant's point of view at least you're coming in to eat, you should be spending enough money- or at least coming in when it's slow enough- to make it worth it the cost of the table.

This has become a favorite of mine since I picked it up from your blog; it's rich and smooth and inviting and complex, and still very accessible. Most people are at least vaguely familiar with the components, and yet the drink is so much more than the sum of its parts. It's also an easy one to get at a restaurant, and it works reasonably well even if the bartender decides you don't really want a full ounce of dry vermouth.

The name though is unfortunate. A few weeks ago, I tried to run this as a drink special at the restaurant where I tend bar. I thought I was a reasonably informed man, but I completely missed all mention of the Buffalo plane crash- and on this particular day, all the newscasts were leading off with the victims' memorials. Which I found out five minutes before dinner service began. Mortified, I hurriedly changed the board to the first drink that popped into my mind- a Ulysses, which is just not in the same league, in my opinion.