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11 Drinks That Are Red Flags For Bartenders
For the population who enjoys going out with friends but choose not to imbibe, there are now countless inventive non-alcoholic drink recipes to choose from. Nowadays, faux cocktails, or “mocktails,” are creating a buzz in the current no-alcohol cocktails trend, especially because people are no longer limited to sparkling cider, non-alcoholic beer, or a Shirley Temple. When given the task, any bartender worth their salt should be able to come up with a mocktail version of a well-known mixed drink on the spot…until the patron makes that task impossible.
Most cocktails include at least one or two mixers, and many have several, making omitting the alcoholic component a no-brainer (think rum punch without the rum). However, ordering a “mocktail” version of a drink that is almost or solely made up of (and thus gets its entire flavor from) alcohol may convey something as simple as the naivete of a patron to, if the bar is busy enough, an annoying situation for a bartender. A “virgin” Negroni falls into the impossible pile because it consists of three ingredients, and they all contain alcohol: Campari, sweet vermouth, and gin. Making a mocktail version would place any bartender to hand over an empty glass and take your $14. This rule can also be applied to Black Russians, Manhattans, Martinis, Rob Roys, Gimlets, and Gibsons, to name a few.
Lab-grown food is no way to nourish the planet | Food
I agree with George Monbiot that it is essential that we curb the continuous expansion of industrial agriculture into precious ecosystems if Earth’s life-support systems are to survive. What concerns me is Monbiot’s solution (Embrace what may be the most important green technology ever. It could save us all, November 24). Close to despair at the failure of the world to take effective measures to curb this destruction, Monbiot is turning to technical fixes, such as precision fermentation, which can produce food without photosynthesis, practically from thin water. This means that 1,700 times less land is required to produce protein than in the world’s most efficient agricultural system.
But this hi-tech solution presents dangers. Even though Monbiot says that he would like poor countries all over the world to install fermentation tanks under local control, this seems unlikely. The technology, developed under corporate control, has been patented. Corporations driven by profits are unlikely to democratize control, and the technology is likely to be used by them to extend their reach over the natural world.
The only real hope comes from creating a massive global movement of climate activists, youth movements, traditional peasant movements, Indigenous activists and others. They have shown that it is possible to build resilient local food systems while protecting the ecosystem.
A sudden transition to the large-scale global production of cheap food by a tech fix could threaten the livelihoods of traditional communities when their knowledge is needed more than ever. While precision fermentation may have a supplementary role to play, it must be monitored and placed under public control. If not, it could do more harm than good.
Sue Branford
Clann, Shropshire
Every time we have tried to simplify and rationalize the process of producing food, it has led to unforeseen and damaging consequences. Synthetic fertilizers, chemical pesticides, crop and grass monocultures, intensive livestock farming, herbicide-ready crops, reliance on antibiotics: the list is long. The George Monbiot who has long argued passionately for the protection of the full complexity of the web of life knows all this. But here is another George Monbiot who seems to think we can solve all our problems simply by messing about with a few chemicals in a lab. George mark one – Eco George – has often argued strongly in favor of the precautionary principle. Perhaps he should have a word with the mark two version – Tech Bro George.
Richard Middleton
Crossmichael, Dumfries and Galloway
George Monbiot’s brave new world of precision fermentation evokes a dystopian future of mega factories churning out 1,001 varieties of artificial food. The fundamental problem with this technology is that, given a choice, few people would choose it. The future of food production will involve major changes to protect the environment. However, abolishing farmed and fished foods, and replacing them with factory-made substitutes could not work, at least in countries where people are free to choose what they eat. The kind of extremist solutions proposed by Monbiot would require either nightmare, Elon Musk-style capitalism or Chinese-style state control. Please at least leave us some choices in what and how we eat.
Ian Healey
Worthing, West Sussex
A new start after 60: I quit drinking and learned to make guitars | Craft
When Paul Edwards left school at 15, he headed to the careers office in Salford, Greater Manchester, to speak to the man behind the glass hatch. The careers officer riffled through his little box of cards, and pulled out two. One card advertised a vacancy for a violin-maker’s apprentice; the other for a precision grinder, which is paid twice as much. Edwards’ mother told him there was no choice. He became a precision grinder.
He must have thought about this fork in the road many times since, because two years ago, at 62, he built a guitar. “And the first thing I thought was: Why didn’t I do this when I left school?”
Instead, he hopped from place to place, following work or girlfriends. “I never really had a career path,” he says. He had worked from the age of 12, painting ships alongside his father in the docks at Old Trafford. “You grow up fast when you’re the oldest of six boys.”
Edwards’ childhood home was full of music. “My mum was singing all the time. I can still hear her now. ‘One day my prince will come … ‘ The radio was always on. We had records.” At 13, Edwards saved his wages and bought a £50 bass on hire-purchase. “It was red, shiny and beautiful.”
He had always been good with his hands, so when the precision grinding didn’t work out, he got a job as a stagehand at the Davenport theater in Stockport – his first step into the world of arts.
Further stints in the same vein followed – building sets at Cambridge Arts theater, and working for a company that made structures “for rich people’s parties”.
After he got married at 30, and had two children with his now ex-wife, music mostly faded from Edwards’ life. His childhood bass broke. He did a degree in civil engineering, became a maths teacher in Sussex, and when his marriage ended, it turned to drink: “Two or three bottles of wine with a meal. Then I started drinking spirits,” he says.
He returned to Salford in 2016 to care for his mum. Health problems – “from breathing in sawdust for 20 years” – made it impossible to work. His brother Graham gave him a guitar to fix.
“An old broken Fender,” Edwards says. “He wasn’t interested in Fenders. He liked Gretsches. He said: ‘You can have this if you want.’ It was in bits. I looked at it for a while, and didn’t do anything with it.”
When his mum died in 2018, Edwards’ drinking got worse. Then, two years later, Graham died suddenly in his sleep, and Edwards fell into a deeper despair. “That was just a killer. He was supposed to be coming round the next night. It wasn’t like he didn’t have any plans. I went mad on the booze.”
In the two weeks between Graham’s death and his funeral, “I was waking up on the floor. Occasionally, I’d have two bottles of rum a day. It was so stupid.”
He thought of ending his life. “I thought: Should have been me, you know? Not him. I’m the oldest. He’s 10 years younger than me. I used to change his nappy.” Edwards was always a helpful child. “My mum used to call me her little prince,” he says, and saying the words makes him laugh.
A week after Graham’s funeral, Edwards had a realization. “I don’t know why. Something made me stop. I just thought: This is stupid. I had that Fender he’d given me. So I decided I’d do something about it – basically thinking of him.”
He set about putting the pieces together. “Since then I’ve been hooked on it.” He had other broken guitars lying around. He overhauled his shiny childhood bass, which is now a jigsaw of differently grained woods. Then he thought, “Why don’t I make one from scratch? I’ve got skills. I had the tools.”
Now he has music and craft in his life, and he hasn’t had a drink since 2020. “I’m learning things all the time. Creating new things that I think are beautiful,” he says. The Telecaster that Graham had given him now features a sunburst of grained veneers. He plays along to Bob Dylan or JJ Cale, “and occasionally I’ll find the right key before the song’s finished. I’m not that good,” he says. “But I’m not playing for anybody else. I’m doing it for me. I’m doing it to make me feel nice. And it does. It’s better than any drugs.”