Head Barkeeper’s Drink List 1911 A Window into a Pre-Prohibition Hotel Bar

 

While looking for something to do around the house and not really wanting to do anything, I was sorting books and came across an envelope with a piece of pre-Prohibition mixology ephemera I had purchased on a whim and then forgotten. Thinking it would be better to mount it on an acid free board and mat rather than leaving it in a battered envelope, it became that day’s task, giving me a chance to use some of my left-over supplies from when photography had been a hobby. 

The roughly 11.25”x17.5” poster’s letterhead reads “Mack Latz, Hotel Alamac, Atlantic City, 1911”

 

 In the advertising of the day, the popular Hotel Alamac, in Atlantic City, was “Plumb on the Boardwalk” and claimed to be the only hotel with its own pier. The hotels name came from combining the first names of the couple who owned it, Mack and Allah Latz.  According to a ladies magazine article of the period Allah, Mack’s wife, managed the hotel. Since Mack was regarded as a respected businessman, it seems likely he would have been something equivalent to a CEO.

 Beneath the letterhead, the document is titled “Head Barkeeper’s Drink List” with the admonition “To be posted at back of bar.”  The poster is printed on a lightweight paper, showing its age with small tears, chips and staining.  Intended as an aid for hotel barkeeps, there are short, specific instructions for the preparation and serving of 88 libations listed in alphabetical order.  The drinks are all old standards with the exception of the “Alamac Special,” a drink seemingly absent from bar books I could consult.  A similar drink in cocktail form appears in Meier’s 1936 Artistry of Mixing Drinks as the Maple Leaf.  Today’s Apple Jack Sour is very similar to the original Almanac Special.

 Prices are absent and the print size small, making it unlikely bar patrons would be able to read it.  At the end of the list there are house rules including “Ladies may not stand at the Bar” and that “Drinks must not be given or sold to anyone on the Jag List”.

 While keeping ladies from standing at the bar is amusing, though not surprising considering the era, the “Jag list” is worthy of note. At first, I assumed it was the drunkard equivalent of the unofficial list we kept in the Emergency Room, many pre-politically correct years ago, of drug seeking “frequent flyers.”  Not so, it was much more complicated than that.

According to the American Dictionary and Cyclopedia of 1896,

 “To have a jag on” was slang for “being in a state of partial intoxication: the idea being that when a man is fully intoxicated he has a load, but that when he is only partly intoxicated he has on only a jag.”

By the early 1900’s there are mentions of mayors, judges and others having jag lists of  “those to whom liquor may not be sold.” These were not merely unofficial lists. They were required by laws responding to drunkenness. For example, a New York Times article of 1915, said that East Orange, New Jersey

 “…is going to have a jag list.  Men who are addicted to drink and are constantly giving their families and police trouble, are to have their names pasted up on all licensed liquor places, and the owners and their employees are to be instructed to refuse them drink of any kind.  In the event of their failure to comply with this command they will be subject to a fine.”

 Other jurisdictions went even further by pulling and refusing liquor licenses to establishments that failed to meet “jag list” laws.  In Hazelton, Pennsylvania it was reported that

“Liquor dealers asked that the city furnish them with photographs of those in the habit of “taking a wee drop too much,” on the “jag list” in other words, so that they may recognize them, and help in stopping the practice.”

The house rules in the Head Barkeeper’s Drink List also specify the bars operating hours, which must
have been regulated by Atlantic City codes. It states “Bar doors must be closed at 11:50 Saturday night.  Bar lights out at 12 sharp.  Bar opens Sunday night 12 o’clock for one hour.” That one hour between 2400 and 0100 must certainly have been interesting.

 I have searched for copies of this poster and cannot find any other examples.  Alas, it seems unique, leaving one other question, the date of actual publication. The printing information in the bottom right corner is chipped and reads

 “This list reprinted November 8, 19 (paper missing) by Milton Latz, Knife and Fork Inn, Atlantic and Pacific Aves., Atlantic City, N (paper missing) 25 Cents a Copy.

 
The Knife & Fork Inn, in addition to having been a popular restaurant, had also been a speak-easy during Prohibition. After being raided and its liquor supplies confiscated, it was taken over in 1927 by Milton Latz, Mack Latz’s brother. Since Latz ownership of the inn dates to 1927, this document would appear to be a Prohibition era souvenir tribute to the “Good Old Days” printed in the late 1920’s or early 1930’s.  In any case, it is still a window into a pre-Prohibition hotel bar.

The Good, the Bad, and the Simply Awful

I was lying in bed at 0300 wondering what my next blog would be.  I have several topics in mind, but none fully developed. When fighting insomnia, my mind often drifts back to past careers, usually nursing. This free thought in the wee hours led to today's blog on taste and potables.

When thinking of "nursing" and "drink," simultaneously, the obvious link is abuse of alcohol rather than the occasional cocktail or glass of wine.  Truly, I can tell horror stories about the excessive intake of intoxicants but preferring to preach moderation in all things, today's blog is less about drink, than taste.

As an RN on a  pediatrics floor, I adopted the practice of tasting the oral medications that I administered to my patients. This helped me anticipate problems and come up with creative ways to mask the taste of most, but not all, unpleasant drugs.  The worst, and least palatable, was prednisolone liquid. It taints everything that you put it in or on, leaving you with a greater volume of yuck for the patient to deal with. In one study, close to 20% of the kids taking it vomited; not from allergy, or adverse reaction, but rather from perceived nastiness of taste and mouth-feel. I can vouch for this from personal experience and, I would like to state for the record, that there is a world of difference between having a child upchuck on you, and having an adult who has been intemperate do so.

As a side note, there are many medical studies in the literature that do relative taste comparisons of drugs within a class, many of which are practically interchangeable, however physicians seldom seem to read those articles and have an instinctive knack for selecting medications most foul.

When it comes to drink, whether we are talking soft drinks, beer, wine, small batch gin, single malt scotch, or mixed drinks, taste is an interesting topic. We enjoy sharing descriptions, both verbal and photographic, of savory repasts, of tasty drinks and memorable spirits. There are many sites like TripAdvisor that let us share on a grand scale.

As with religion, many people espouse their personal taste as the only true taste and display a marked superiority and intolerance for others whose taste is different.

Hard-core scotch worshippers are a good example, with all their talk of single malts, whether taken neat or with a splash of water.  Personally, while I think Laphroaig Cairdeas is about as good a scotch as any I have tasted, I prefer scotch in mixed drinks – Oh heresy of heresies!  I would rather have a "Mamie Taylor" or a "Cameron's Kick Cocktail" than a pour of any fine scotch. As an added incentive, any scotch-based mixed drink does as well using a cheap scotch like Clan McGregor as it does with its pricey upscale cousins.

Recently, seeking new "old" drinks to try, I have made several that  range from "I don't care for this" to "This is pretty awful" and would like to share one from each end of the spectrum.

The first, an “I don’t care for this,” is from a classic text, The Flowing Bowl - What and When to Drink, by Willie Schmidt. Published in 1892, it is a great collection of recipes as served in the "Gay 90's" (a moniker originating when gay still meant light-hearted, not an orientation). While I found most recipes in the book decent or better, the "Gin Puff" is one to have had for the sake of having.  Having had two, it is hard to imagine desiring a third. The first was made using small batch Hendrick's, a dry gin, the second with Hayman's Old Tom.  The Old Tom preparation was slightly better but fell a long ways from good. 

 My best guess is that the Gin Puff was one of those "hair of the dog" concoctions designed to clear a “morning after” fog, rather than a drink to be had while the senses are still acute.

The all-time winner of the "drink so bad you wouldn't serve it to your mother-in-law" award has to be the "St. Barbara."  Saint Barbara is the patron saint of almost all occupations involving fire or explosives.  While it appears in one of my German cocktail books from the early 1900's, the choice of ingredients would suggest that this drink is English in origin, containing scotch, absinthe and Worcestershire in equal parts. One may surmise that the St. Barbara may have been the regimental toast of the Queens Own Cannon-Cockers or the "dare you to drink this" initiation beverage for the Grand Order of Powder Monkeys.

One rule of making mixed drinks is to only use quality ingredients. To every rule there is an exception and the St. Barbara is one. Using quality ingredients is pointless. Being out of Clan McGregor scotch, I substituted 12 year Glenlivet. That did not help. The concoction tastes like anise flavored Worcestershire.

Paired with a nice meat loaf, or lamb and leek pie at your favorite English pub, the St. Barbara might work in tiny sips with a mouthful of food. I have no desire to test it further.

Despite the number of questionable liquids that I have consumed (including gasoline while siphoning), or mixed, including those above, I have yet to find any as vile in taste as that prednisolone of bygone days.