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    Lost Spring: How We Cocktailed Through Crisis
    Lost Spring: How We Cocktailed Through Crisis
    Lost Spring: How We Cocktailed Through Crisis
    Ebook322 pages1 hour

    Lost Spring: How We Cocktailed Through Crisis

    By Mike Wolf

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    About this ebook

    Lost Spring: How We Cocktailed Through Crisis culls together more than 50 different bartenders and sommeliers from Nashville and beyond to discuss what it has been like to go from a natural disaster, the devastating tornado that ripped through the city in early March, decimating businesses and taking the lives of two local bartenders, to a global pandemic that shut down the restaurant and bar business for months. The book will be used to raise funds for those affected by the tornado in Middle Tennessee, and will also raise money for local service industry worker funds. There are cocktail recipes, techniques for making cordials, and plenty of insight from local mavericks of the mixology scene in Nashville. Bartenders discuss what they’ve missed about being behind the bar, what has changed about their approach to the profession, all while dispensing plenty of recommendations for music and entertainment during quarantine (the book has its own spotify playlist curated by local DJ and mixologist Patrick Goodspeed). Compiled by local writer and bartender Mike Wolf, author of Garden to Glass, this book aims to catch a unique moment in time when the world seemed to spin out of control and come to a halt all at the same time. Available initially as an ebook in late August 2020, and out in May 2021 from Turner Publishing. 

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTurner Publishing Company
    Release dateAug 25, 2020
    ISBN9781684426881
    Lost Spring: How We Cocktailed Through Crisis
    Author

    Mike Wolf

    Mike Wolf opened and established the bar program at Husk in Nashville, Tennessee and spent the next five years developing a hyper-seasonal and dynamic style of cocktails and non-alcoholic drinks, utilizing on-site gardens, the bounty of Middle Tennessee and a home garden where he grew upwards of 30 different varieties of herbs and vegetables all for the purpose of making cocktails and elixirs. His drinks have been featured in Imbibe Magazine, Local Palette Magazine, the Tennessean, Foodable TV Network and more.

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      Book preview

      Lost Spring - Mike Wolf

      The Drinks

      The Fall Mint Julep

      The Harbor Light

      The Green Vaccine

      Spiegelauder

      The Civil Service

      Trashmopolitan

      Number One

      Thief’s Alibi

      Golden Hour

      Maya Bay

      Queen of the Rodeo

      Automatic Supersonic Hypnotic Funky Fresh

      Pear Kour

      Dro’s Tom Kah

      What Day is It?

      Little Marie

      The Only Way to Say Farewell

      Chamomile Cooler

      Peas Excuse Me

      Spruce Tip Gimlet

      Tempest of Tansy

      Sake and Spice

      Yellow Eyes

      Shelter Cove

      Boozy Banana Bread

      Mr. Sparkle

      Episode 2: The Breakfast Fizz

      Happenstance

      The Good Samaritan

      Good as Gold

      Mutually Assured Destruction

      The Bold Adventure

      Terra Firma Mix

      Safe Word

      Panic Button

      Wisconsin Apple Pie

      Come Out Tonight

      Adriana

      Catavino

      Otro Vez

      The Spaghetti Western

      Classic Spanish Vermouth Cocktail

      Hot Tadashi

      Diamond Cutter

      Standard Proof Wildflower Lemonade

      Foxy Brown

      Vin De Peche

      That’s A Peach Hun

      We Got The Jazz

      Zicatela

      MeadMosa

      Boxed In Sour

      Turn and Face the Strange

      I’ll Never Be Blue With Bologna by Matt Campbell

      There’s No Whining In Wine

      Blooms of The Lost Spring

      Introduction

      Life has a way of changing so fast, like a rollercoaster barreling down from a slowly-ascending peak, careening its way around a dangerous corner as the people around you either throw their hands up in exaltation or scream in equal amounts of fear and delight. On the other hand, it can be easy to forget the times when life slows down, cruise control is activated, there isn’t much to write home about and the living, like a hazy summertime dream, is easy. One thing is certain: We will never forget these times, a mix of pain, confusion, downtime and disconnection. As a harbinger of doom, a real-life total fucking nightmare, a time to be alone (whether you wanted to be or not), an era where families were forced to say goodbye over a smartphone or not say goodbye at all, all kicked off by a devastating tornado in Nashville, the Spring of 2020 really had it all. If Jurassic Park ever makes a sequel where all the dinosaurs literally leap off the screen and start attacking the audience (remember movies in a theater?), it won’t be remotely as terrifying as the yesterday’s-bad news-just-got-ten times-worse hellscape of the initial days of Quarantine 2020. This period in our lives was rife with so much emotion, portent, dreadful anticipation of the never ending news cycle— and at times, a relative calm as the sounds of a city so used to hustling and bustling gave way to the songs of the birds gathering in numbers as spring finally sprung. There was calm AND a storm, but it was a pulsating, focused storm like the one in Ghostbusters that hovers over one apartment building, only we were all living in that building, with no understanding of the ghosts lurking inside.

      As we reached the one month mark of Quarantine, and answers still couldn’t keep up with all the questions on our minds (what day is it, again?), and the unemployment hotlines succumbed to the weight of a world with no work to do, there were glimmers of hope in the darkness like light piercing through a keyhole. We’re going to come together like we did during 9/11, we collectively thought for a few weeks. We can do this if we come together and agree on a strategy, we said for a few days in late April. Masks, the ones we’ve watched people in Asia and beyond wear for the last few decades as they’ve dealt with SARS and other Soderbergian outbreaks, suddenly became a fact of life in a re-emerging society. These masks became predictably politicized by pouty adults of all ages who crossed their arms, huffed in place like churlish little children (as a parent in chief during these times I’ve come to know it well) and demanded that things GET BACK TO NORMAL! Some, to my continual amazement, went so far as to protest by harassing the very doctors and nurses who were risking so much to manage the historical quagmire of COVID-19 in the first place.

      So much for coming together. It didn’t really work out the way I expected, as I sit here writing this on the doorsteps of an uncertain summer, with protests pulsing through the country amid a reckoning with the racism that has flowed undeterred in this country like rivers flowing in multiple directions from an ever-present Continental Divide that can’t be dammed and won’t be damned, no matter how many black people are killed by cops.

      We’ll be analyzing and performatively proselytizing whether the killings of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor and Rayshard Brooks were the final straws that began to break the bonds of institutional racism, and what effect the shutdown had on what appears to be, in these early stages—a real reckoning to set the stage for change. It may have been too much to ask of a perpetually divided society to come together as a whole for the greater good during a pandemic so grave that we got to know Dr. Anthony Fauci, the Director for the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Disease, so well that he became a character (played by Brad Pitt who would garner an Emmy nomination for his 3 minutes of screen time) who cold-opened a stay at home episode of Saturday Night Live. But maybe a national crisis (or several) is what it took to make us all look hard in the mirror and realize that if we weren’t part of the solution, we were diligently ignoring the problem. If you can’t make it easier for disadvantaged people to vote and participate in a democracy, it’s much more difficult to believe you live in one. If you make it harder for those who have less, it becomes easier to accept, because that’s just the way things are, and because confronting the core of racism in America is uncomfortable and reaches into the far recesses of history that none of us were taught in school. Look up the Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921, even the Sand Creek Massacre of 1864. We’re in the middle of yet another dark period in our history, but like that massacre of Cheyenne and Arapaho Native Americans in 1864 which was apart from and intrinsically related to the Civil War, the reasons are both separate and deeply embedded, like roots of two different plants tangling together underground. While a warm and cozy idea at first, then maddeningly out of reach a month later, we in fact are in this big ol’ mess together. The trials and tribulations of this time and the past that informs it, like the warnings of the Spanish Flu of 1918, will provide us with decades of wisdom. What we’ll do with it and where we’ll end up is still being written, and that makes for some inspiring times. If the times weren’t so damn sad.

      I’m proud to write this from Nashville, Tennessee where I saw so many amazing people banding together to deal with a historic natural disaster that happened before COVID-19 came to change life in America as we know it. Just as the virus was beginning to spread in parts of Washington state and New York City, an EF-3 Tornado with winds of 165 MPH, ripped through the heart of Nashville, damaging or destroying upwards of 771 buildings, and killing 24 people across four counties, including five children in nearby Putnam County, where the winds reached 175 MPH. The only two people who died in the city of Nashville, county of Davidson, were rock star on-the-rise bartenders, Albree Sexton and Michael Dolfini, a loving couple who lived in East Nashville and worked at top-flight bars. Albree held court at the Fox Bar and Cocktail Club, while Michael mixed things up at the Nashville outpost of needs-no-introduction, Attaboy. Though I didn’t know them well, their influence on this book and the contributors herein is immense (Riley Perrin, Adam Sloan, and Brandon Bramhall all have compassionate, insightful thoughts on their passing). Comrades and guests alike spoke glowingly and affectionately of a couple who came to Nashville in search of a little more space and a laid-back vibe. They loved the people and the hospitality of the bar business, and like many of the bartenders in this book, were incalculably creative.

      One afternoon in early quarantine, late March, as I took the longest route possible (I hadn’t been out of the house

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