Author Archives: Hope Ewing

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About Hope Ewing

Writer. Bar person. Angeleno. Author of Movers & Shakers: Women Making Waves in Spirits, Beer, and Wine - Unnamed Press 2018

Rookie Bar Gaffes to Avoid

Watching the latest Game of Thrones season (I’m not going to expound on GoT. It’s just a TV show), my boyfriend pointed out how much Bran-as-Three-Eyed-Raven sounds like all of us after our first year of college. That I’ve been out in the world, I’ve learnt things about philosophy and hidden histories and now I can enlighten all you old people aura of smugness. We have all been guilty at one point or another of “schooling” an elder on the reality of things.

This reminds me of what it was like to be a craft bartender the first few months after training. Six weeks of memorizing drink recipes and scribbling tasting notes about spirits and all of a sudden I KNEW EVERYTHING, and I wanted to drop this wisdom in every bar I graced with my presence.

Ugh, the memories of trying to order a Bijou from some hotel pool bar, then trying to walk the flippant woman behind the stick through an inevitably wretched concoction. That was the start of a realization, that just because I made fancy-pants cocktails didn’t mean I could expect everyone else to make them for me, or be grateful for my definitely-not-annoying schooling.*

As time went on and I spent more time behind my own bar, I learned more about what it meant to be a good customer.  I’m all on the side of capital-H Hospitality, here, and definitely don’t think a guest at a bar should be eye-rolled or belittled, but if you’re in the industry, you should hold yourself to a higher standard than civilians. Here are some of the most annoying things bartenders do to one another, trying to show off how in-the-know they are. I state these in full knowledge that I may have perpetrated any number of them over the past five years.  Continue reading

All the Totes I Own, Ranked

I would absolutely read a well-researched think piece on the cultural significance of the tote bag, because I can personally only offer speculation.

Totes

Just a fraction of a lifetime’s collection.

During the recent boozefest convention T and I attended, he chided me about all the schwag I grabbed. We’ve been set on keeping clutter to a minimum, so naturally one would assume bringing in superfluous freebies would be frowned upon.

But I love a tote.  I love the concept of a re-usable bag that is also kind of disposable. Like, you probably didn’t pay for it, so if you need to leave it behind because you’ve all decided to go out for drinks after the potluck and you don’t trust your host to return it, it’s no big D. Furthermore, though I usually dislike the idea of wearing a company’s logo on my person when I’ve paid them for the clothing already, the free advertising of freebie totes offers two bonuses: promoting the brand of the product/organization you ostensibly support and promoting one’s own status as someone who supports said brand/organization. It seems petty, but sometimes carrying the right Planned Parenthood or New Yorker tote bag can say more about you to would-be accosters than any of the words you might speak yourself.

I recently pulled out all the tote bags in my house. See photo above. Here are how they rank, based on quality, design and sentimental value, from least favorite to best best.

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ToTC ’17 Dame Hall of Fame, or, In which I fan-girl out over chemists and bartenders

DameHallofFame

The 2017 Dame Hall of Fame inductees

The one event I knew I had to attend at Tales of the Cocktail, amid all the circus-like brand tastings and high-budget-circus-like brand parties, was the Dame Hall of Fame inductions. Tales was co-founded by Ann and Paul Tunnerman, and since the beginning, it seems there was a strong drive to celebrate the women in the cocktail biz. Which is absolutely appropriate, when you think about it. The craft cocktail scene is generally more meritocratic than the swinging-d*ck culture of, say, sports bars, or a push-up bra worshiping club scene. To be successful in craft, you need to be smart, fast, creative and hardworking; all gender neutral attributes.

The more women bartenders and brand reps I talk to, the more they are baffled by the idea that people would think their presence in their fields is anomalous. Frankly, as total badass and Big Bar director Cari Hah told me, “There are [a lot of] women in the industry.” I know this, the nerds know this, why don’t journalists seem to know this?

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ToTC Recap, Day 5

We did it. We made it to Sunday without blacking out, breaking up, or embracing a NOLA-induced existential crisis! Now as I take a moment for some long-awaited hotel-room-lazing, here are some reflections.

I interviewed some amazing humans. People with passion who are great at their jobs. Highlights:

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Pre-Tales Prep Agreements

Prep List for Tales

  • Milk Thistle extract for liver function
  • Turmeric extract for inflammation
  • Liquid B-complex for energy and clarity
  • Coconut water x4 for electrolytes, in theory, but really just because one likes it.
  • Bottled cold brew with Peruvian superfood maca
  • Melatonin, for use in the absence of cannabinoids, which even in liquid high-CBD medical form one is too sensible to try to fly into the South with
  • Energy bars to ward off hangry travel tantrums
  • Sandals for hot weather running around
  • Wad-able cardigan for conference rooms chilled to meat locker temps
  • Extra strength natural deodorant mini to carry around
  • Large “bite-and-suck” camelback bottle aka “the water boob” for constant hydration
  • Large granny purse for carrying cardigan and water boob
  • More than week’s worth of outfits for inevitable sweat-throughs
  • Courage

Agreement between partners, Tuan and Hope

Thankfully, I’m not in this alone. I’m here with my partner in life and in journalism, photographer Tuan Lee. He’s taking the photos and doing what he does best, spreading the word on his enthusiasms to everyone who will listen. It is dangerous, however, to travel with a loved one to a bacchanalia. No, not for nefarious reasons. Because nobody likes that drunk arguing at the bar. Here’s how we are going to keep the peace and our sanity. 

  • Utilize spit buckets in all tasting rooms. Really.
  • Share sample cocktails at industry pairing events.
  • One-and-done policy at evening events. Soda water for lengthy networking.
  • No drinking in the hotel room.
  • Use hotel gym every morning even if feeling awful
  • No turning stress and liver fatigue into quarrels
  • Maintain a united front. If partner appears neglectful, it is because they are drowning. Go rescue them.
  • Stay away from bad influences, those industry lifers who appear to be operating just fine with a low-level hangover going 24 hours a day. These people will pressure one to over-imbibe with them, then be right back up and at ‘em while one is buried in bedclothes praying for the merciful hand of death the following morning.
  • Eat. and eat and eat.
  • Have fun.

Headed to The Tales

Every year in July, thousands of bartenders, distillers, liquor reps and “ambassadors” descend on New Orleans’s French Quarter for what appears as an industry conference, but has been described to me as a weeklong bacchanalia. Back in 2002 Tales of the Cocktail was started by cocktail enthusiast Ann Tunnerman as an industry meet up for the budding field of craft bartending. They did it in July because NOLA event spaces are cheap in the summer because of the utterly brutal heat. Then it became tradition. True to industry form, they embraced the inconvenience and possible pain of doing things unconventionally because that’s what we do. 12-hour shift with a hangover and minimal pee breaks? Sure. Whiskey tasting in 100 degree weather with 90% humidity? Well, as long as all my friends are here.

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Two Random Things and a Drink Recipe

Most of the media output here on the webs makes me want to put my face in a pillow and wail. So here are some things that soothe me, here in the age of anger.

Podcasts of smart/funny women talking.
There are differing opinions on how to subdivide podcast genres, but I like to think of them in two major groups: the people talking kind–which includes interview, monologue, and co-hosted shows a la WTF, Bill Burr’s podcast, and For Colored Nerds, respectively, and the narrative kind, like NPR’s empire of podcast/radio shows. I separate these by their use of sound effects and different storytelling techniques. I usually gravitate toward the narrative kinds, but lately a couple of talkies have me hooked. Specifically: Call Your Girlfriend and Los Feliz, the Podcast. There’s something entirely edifying about listening to smart and funny women talking together. That is all.

 

David Chang coming to LA!
We’re ready, booboo.  I know this isn’t going to happen, but I have a fantasy of him opening up shop in Far East Plaza down the aisle from BaoHaus and Chego! and Howlin’ Ray’s so he and Eddie and Roy and Johnny Ray can just bro out at a picnic table sometimes. Or that this would be a sitcom. Also I wish there were some lady chefs there, now that I’m writing this.

For summertime, try this drink I made up:

Ruby Jane
3 ripe strawberries
1 pinch cilantro
3/4 oz lime juice
3/4 oz sugar or agave syrup
2 oz aged cachaça
2 dashes rhubarb bitters

I named it after my niece. She’s bright, sweet, and funky, too. Muddle, shake and dump into a bucket glass and drink it.

Rhubarb bitters are more versatile than you might imagine. They have a nice halfway flavor between fruity and vegetal/herbal. Those and celery bitters are dark horses. Celery bitters can surprisingly liven up just about anything. It’s the msg of cocktail flavorings. Underrated and unjustly maligned.

Are you a person who hates cilantro, that most divisive of leaves? Try mint, I guess. Or make something else. We frown upon substitutions.

How Many Easy Chicken Dinners is Too Many?

Have you guys noticed how listicles are getting longer and longer by the year?

Consider today’s front page links from delish.com:

Screen Shot 2017-05-05 at 9.40.49 AM

Being a human alive and using the Internet, I’m accustomed to getting my information in list form. I’ve embraced it. And on first glance, I’m happily surprised there might be FOURTEEN margaritas in the world that will lit’rally change my life. I can’t wait for my moment of revelation to come when I bite into one of those marg cupcakes there on slide #3. But as we continue down the page, I’m a little baffled by the prospect of 67 pasta options (one per night for over 2 months), and downright overwhelmed by four months’ worth of surprising AND simple chicken dinners. How much surprise can I deal with at mealtime, and for how long?

Doing this type of writing from time to time, I know that more items=more better. Still, the sustainability of this model is questionable. Right?

Notes from the Tardy Front

[I wrote this as an exercise last year and I kind of liked it. That’s all. Ain’t that what blogs are for?]

TARDY
My mother reports that I arrived in this world one and a half weeks past due, at 11:00 am on a Saturday. This is the time I’ve awoken, sans-­alarm clock, for as long as I can remember. In middle school, my friends changed the meaning of “EST” to mean “Ewing Standard Time,” which averaged 30 minutes behind the clock time of whatever time zone myself or one of my parents occupied. From that first dance recital onward, I’ve told my family that events start an hour before they actually do, and I’m aware and grateful that my friends do this to me. One time the priest at the 65­-parishioner church in our 900-­person town made a pointed sermon about being on time for God, very obviously not to looking in the direction of the pew where my mother and our brood had shuffled to fifteen minutes into the service. Because, you see, it’s inherited. I am a late person in a long line of late people. On behalf of multiple generations, let me beg your pardon.

I know the arguments, they are solid. Tardiness is evidence of a lack of respect. If you make someone wait for you, it means you don’t care about them. If you can’t get off your butt or stop what you are doing ten minutes earlier, you clearly think your time is worth more than everyone else’s. It’s hubris, disregard. It’s all the things that break personal bonds and endanger the social order. Except, it’s not. Not really.
The problem is not the respect between the late and the on­ time. Given the choice, I would not select living in a state of perpetually asking forgiveness. I left Catholicism when I left my little hometown, much for this reason. There is no satisfaction in crashing through a door, being greeted with annoyed stares and eye rolls. I know, I know it’s the worst.

So why, the earlies ask, why don’t you just not be late? Well, I’ll tell you.  Continue reading

Rewatching Cheers as an adult who has since been to a bar

In honor of achieving my lifetime bartender win by serving a drink to Ted Danson, I thought I’d share some thoughts I’ve had about watching the epic, childhood-filling sitcom that launched him to stardom.

The show shuttered in 1993, and I clearly remember the frenzy leading up to the final few episodes, but the early years are hazy.

So I started again.

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