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Mage’s Fire. In the gathering twilight, I planned my brother’s graduation party, and this boom! spell caught my eye. Goldschlaeger, blue curacao, and vodka were the requisite spell components. The ratios were easy enough for a novice spell-slinger like myself. Then, a flash of battle-magic brilliance: “I’ll replace the crap vodka with Grey Goose, and
Before I fell in love with Magic: The Gathering, before I was married, back when I thought I knew everything, I was a bartender. And my very first experience with creating a custom cocktail was the travesty you see above. Using your Magic-honed reasoning skills, consider why these recipe shenanigans and my thought process were (as I realized years later) embarrassingly flawed.
1. I thought dumping $90 worth of Grey Goose into the bowl made the drink better just because it now had a brand-name juggernaut in the ingredients list.
2. I didn’t analyze the context of the vodka, the role that it was playing in this recipe. Vodka, being a very mild spirit (in comparison to bourbon, scotch, rum, etc.) would be nearly indistinguishable after being mixed with such obnoxious flavor bombs like Goldschlaeger (cinnamon) and blue curacao (orange).
3. I didn’t test my recipe before I committed to it. It’s the equivalent of building a deck from your own untried brew idea, sleeving it up, and going straight to a Grand Prix. The result was a near-undrinkable blue-and-gold-flecked concoction that was a boom spell to your tongue as well as your brain, and not in a good way.
Pro tip: The gold flecks do not improve the taste.
Pro tip: the blue does not improve the taste.
What would I do differently, if I had the chance? Taste-test it myself, ask more experienced bartenders for advice, whip up samples and have friends give me feedback, read some of the many respected books on bartending that are out there—so many ways to come to a better solution, if I was goal-oriented at the time. I wasn’t. I was caught up in the moment, and hasty.
Flash-forward to the present day. I was looking at Sharuum (leader of one of our “jerk” Commander decks) and realized she has what appears to be some kind of champagne cocktail in front of her upon her royal dais. Suddenly I realized there must be other pieces of art in Magic’s long history that feature mixed drinks, and also that many of the skills valued and honed in Magic are applicable to professional bartending.
Sharuum relaxes with bubbly while reviewing supplicants.
Elizabeth Taylor Cocktail
4 oz champagne or sparkling white wine
1 oz crème de violette
Pour crème de violette into champagne flute. Add champagne. Stir gently if needed. Garnish with lemon twist or whatever you think is sexy.
As Magic players, we’re used to the dirty-secret fact that we sling cardboard spells at each other for entertainment, fame, and fortune. Bartenders do the same—the difference being they sling liquid spells instead of paper (this should particularly appeal to all you blue mages out there).
If you’re so inclined, there is a whole world of cocktail academia to explore, and in particular you might enjoy the cocktailian bartender discipline (also referred to as craft, classic, and mixologist), which is a combination of attention to craft, historical appreciation, and culinary influence. “Cocktailian” is as made up as it sounds and was coined by Gary Regan, author of The Joy of Mixology and maker of Regan’s Orange Bitters. Also read Imbibe by David Wondrich; it’s a historically driven, rollicking good time. This blog is world-famous for bar tips and snarkiness.
This is your spellbook, grasshopper.
My brother (big shout for helping with this article!) is a well-known cocktailian bartender in the Northwest. “The predecessor of the cocktail—some concoction of spirits, sugar, and other ingredients—dates back to the seventeenth century,” he says. Don’t believe slangin’ spirits can take you far? My bro gave up a plum job at a top accounting firm to apprentice at the best bar in town, and now he makes more cha-ching than he did crunching tax numbers. More important, he enjoys what he
Bar-tifacts basics: Pint glass, shaker tin, bar spoon, jigger, peeler. These aren’t needed for the recipes in this article, but would be for most cocktails.
Part of me is writing this because I wish I’d gotten more exposure to “alternative” careers when I was younger. There are so many more jobs out there than what they tell you about in school. The other part of me is writing this because it’s making me thirsty.
The Elvish version of punch.
Braidwood Cup has great art. We get to see an intimate and rare scene—that of elves losing control and carousing
“I think it no accident that every civilized people has discovered the art of distillation.” — Rofellos of Llanowar
This is a variation on a Mark Twain quote, but I almost like Rofellos’s version better. Feel like getting’ Llanowarish at your next house party? Try the recipe below.
1/3 pint lemon juice
3/4 lb white sugar
1 pint of mixture*
2 1/2 pints cold water
* To make this mixture, take 1/4 pint of peach brandy, 1/2 pint of Cognac, and 1/4 pint of Jamaica rum.
Stir ingredients together in a large pot, and when ready, pour over ice.
Peach brandy isn’t available anymore, so you’ll need to take some regular brandy and—to taste—do a peach infusion, or even puree some peaches and mix in, or use a peach-flavored liqueur as an addition. I won’t go into those details; I have utter faith that any of you mages would be able to master this research and execute it on your own.
Ready for Elvish delights. Hit me, Rofellos!
Given you have the wit, memorization capacity, and work ethic, and are able to develop social skills and likability (if you don’t happen to already possess ’em) you can take professional bartending as far as you want it to go. There’s another internationally known bartender holding court in Seattle, and he writes the blog Cask Strength. Check out what handsome science-geek Andrew has to say if you want to know how to make smoking (literally) cocktails in the spirit of:
Top female bartenders and industry icons are out there as well, they just don’t keep blogs. Audrey Saunders, owner of Pegu Club (voted one of Forbes’ 2009 Best Bartenders); Aeryn Reece at Mayahuel in New York (Mayahuel is the goddess of agave; agave fuels the tequila we know); and Misty Kalkofen, owner of Drink in Boston, are just a few.
As a woman from bartending and sports, I’m very familiar with harsh, competitive environments. Even innocently intended jokes sting for women in Magic right now because with so few in the game, they’re easily victimized by the elephant-villain in the room: poor sportsmanship.
“I’ll concede if you show me your tits.” This is actionable sexual harassment, even in a bar. You’re gone, brother! Say the offender was jesting and truly has no concept of right and wrong; the female says, “I don’t appreciate that remark and it makes me uncomfortable.” The mark of a truly powerful mage? Apologize. We don’t prove our worth by being the cleverest, the most aggro, or the biggest brainiac. We prove our worth through compassion.
Here you are sir, two Liz Taylors. This one’s on the house.
I guarantee that women in Magic have a great sense of humor and no harm whatsoever will come to the game if we commit to a code of ethics rooted simply in a handshake and mutual respect—unless, of course, your goal is to have Magic exist as the last bastion of unchecked hurtful behavior, including, but not limited to: sexism, homophobia, racism, and ageism. Thanks to all the men and women who have offered their thoughtful takes on this topic so far.
For me—the type of Vorthos who chooses outfits based on Magic art—the bleed from battlefield to real life feels normal. Thus, I hope we can agree that the stuff of Magic, such as courage, honor, innovation (for the better), and a thirst for knowledge and understanding should be encouraged, and not feared, in our growing community.
’Til next time, may Magic be your sword and may all your cups runneth over. I raise my glass to you, but—more important—with you.
— MJ
@moxymtg on Twitter
