Bar Exam

Where do you meet a bartender for a drink? At the Zig Zag Cafe,
where the bartenders’ bartender, the world-famous Murray Stenson, does
his alchemy. At 10:00 p.m. on a Thursday night, the bar is already
full of supplicants. A second-row stand-up table is as close as you
can get to an audience with the great one. The Zig Zag is hidden away
halfway up the Pike Street Hill Climb; it’s a nice place, not overposh.
Murray—to bartenders and aficionados, he is the only
Murray—doesn’t need decor, just his billions of bottles.
Above his obviously open bar, the tiny “BAR OPEN” sign is illuminated;
back by the kitchen, a pirate flag flies. Candles and anticipation
provide a glow.

Murray’s demonstrating how he got the nickname Murr the Blur, mixing
drinks at an aneurysm-inducing speed. Brandi says that when
you’re that busy, it’s more fun—that’s what you’re there for,
that’s what you thrive on. She guesses all bartenders have at least a
mild case of ADD. Brandi is a bartender at Lowell’s, maybe a block away
as the crow flies, making her a lucky bartender indeed, especially
since Lowell’s closes around nine: The Zig Zag can be her after-work
bar. “Murray is magic,” she says.

Of her namesake, Brandi says, “I don’t hate brandy, but brandy
sometimes hates me.” She’s what she calls a “dirty old man
drinker,” meaning she prefers bourbon and tequila. She orders the Choke
Artist, which is tequila, Cynar (the artichoke liqueur from Italy), dry
sherry, and orange bitters. It is declared raisiny and earthy. It is
loved. For brandy, Brandi recommends the Alabazam: brandy, triple
sec, lemon, and Angostura bitters. It’s served up and cold, but it has
a sideways richness and the warmth of a glassful of sun.

Brandi sometimes dots the “i” in her name with a heart, but only in
jest. “Do I look like a Brandi to you?” she asks. She does not. What
Brandi looks like is Velma from Scooby-Doo: short, dark hair,
squared-off dark-framed glasses. (She says her dog looks like Scooby,
too: “I didn’t do it on purpose.”) She’s possessed of the quality
that’ll have you telling secrets nearly immediately, with total
confidence that they’ll be kept. She’s a cocktail nerd, but she
recognizes that people like what they like. At Lowell’s, she’ll lure a
tourist from Nebraska into a better drink, running down a flight of
stairs to the produce stand to get fresh grapefruit and herbs for their
greyhound. She loves making drinks for fishmongers, businessmen,
British people, and middle America, sometimes all at once, watching
(and doubtless helping) everyone get along. She’s a little bit magic
herself.