Sazerac

recommended by Kelley Dixson

The very first drink I had in New Orleans was at a dive bar in the Marigny. A 24 hour bar that boasts nightly karaoke, and still does. I, being new to New Orleans, got the cocktail you're "supposed" to get-- the sazerac. Rye whiskey, sugar cube, bitters, squeeze of lemon, and a chilled glass with an absinthe rinse...and that's just the ingredient list. Needless to say,  it's not a "busy time of year" cocktail to order at a bar, let alone a dive. It was made for me by a lovely woman who didn't seem to mind this time consuming cocktail. And she made it perfectly. She filled one glass with rocks and seltzer. She muddled the sugar and the Peychaud's, about 3-5 dashes, and poured about 2 oz of rye whiskey over the mixture in another glass.  Expertly rinsing the glass she had chilling with Herbsaint (Absinthe's less potent and less expensive relative), she poured in the whiskey mixture. The lemon peel was curled and heated with a lighter to release the oils of the peel. She handed over her work of art and I took a picture and took a sip. 

Worst. Drink. Ever. 

It was jarring. I simply was not prepared for the dryness of rye whiskey and the odd sensation in my nose from the Peychaud's and the taste of licorice from the Herbsaint all mixed together. Total sensory overload. I was not one to be rude (or to leave a full drink, if I'm honest), so I continued to sip it.  With each sip, the bitterness dissipated a little more and I began to appreciate its unique flavor. I drank it and several other drinks, sang some karaoke, and got whisked away by some of the locals to several other bars where I ordered way too many drinks. And thus, my love affair with that city began. 

Years later after moving to New Orleans and working on Bourbon Street for 2 Mardi Gras seasons, I finally became a bartender at a local dive and music room. Mostly people would come in, notice their surroundings,  and order a beer and a shot. Some, however, would order the sazerac. I made some terrible ones at first, but soon learned how to make them almost as perfectly as the lady who made my first. I was a server at an all service restaurant and the servers were also the hosts, bartenders, food runners, table bussers, and cashiers. We were busy. Sazeracs were not on the list of efficient cocktails and I only made them if I knew you or you had already tipped me well. Making this cocktail became a labor of love and led me to some die hard friendships. The bitterness was dissipating. That became my relationship with New Orleans. Things were surprisingly bitter at first, but the more I drank in the city, the easier it got to stand the bitterness and grow to love it. 

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