As a foreigner to Chinese, Korean, and Japanese friends, I seem to incite conversations on international topics more often than would seem the norm in strictly native circles. And, perhaps as some perverse gesture of solidarity with the Westerner in the room, these conversations quite often turn into xenophobic venting sessions directed at East Asian neighbors. The catharses usually begin as polite self-deprecating observations on one’s own society and then morph, with varying degrees of speed and completion depending on the drinks being served that night, into stronger and more earnest insults directed to the inhabitants of nearby countries.
What strikes me most about the content of such conversations is not just that the participants have generally realized that I lived for almost three years in China and developed several friendships along the way, have a Korean boyfriend and a close relationship with his family, and have made a few Japanese friends in both Chinese and Korean language classes and am thus very likely judging their xenophobia with some critical scrutiny, but that the comments, whether they be made by Chinese people about Koreans, Japanese people about Chinese, Korean people about Japanese, or any permutation thereof, are all pretty much the same.
A few close Chinese friends in Beijing once told me over lamb kebabs and beer that they considered Koreans “很吵，没有礼貌，不太聪明 (loud, rude, and unintelligent).” A few months later, I had a similarly sized group of Korean friends confiding to me over banchan and fish that Chinese tourists struck them as “시끄럽고 예의 없어 (loud and rude).”
Similarly, a Chinese friend complained to me several times that I should watch myself around Koreans, who are cold-hearted business-minded folks who will befriend you for personal gain and, once you cease to be of use to them, “只把你扔掉了 (just toss you away).” Perhaps, though, I shouldn’t heed that advice, as, according to a Korean acquaintance, Chinese people are “물질만능주의자 (exclusively materialistic).”
The hate doesn’t stop at bashing each other’s aptitudes and principles. A close Korean friend once told me that she thought that compared with Chinese and Japanese, 우리 나라 여자들은 가장 예뻐 (our country’s girls are the prettiest).” This declaration ironically called to mind an offhand comment once made by a female Chinese friend that Chinese girls had bigger eyes and were naturally prettier than Koreans and Japanese.
Multiple Chinese and Korean people have also complained to me that people from the other country always try to seize everything important in East Asian history as their own invention. The Chinese end of this argument is humorously depicted in one of my favorite Youku videos, which alleges that a Korean professor claimed that Sun Yat-sen and Yao Ming had Korean ancestry and that Korean academics have before concluded that Confucius, Xi Shi (legendary beauty said to have lived in the 春秋 period), and Li Shizhen (Ming Dynasty doctor and polymath) had Korean blood and will soon declare that the universe itself was created by Korea.
Such xenophobic sentiments have not been limited to close friends in intimate quarters. The head of my office in Beijing once told me after some slight inebriation at a company banquet that he considered the smartest and most accomplished people in the history of the world to be Chinese, German, English, and Japanese, but “对不起，不是韩国人 (sorry, not Koreans).”
This comment was countered and perhaps topped by the Yonsei KLI Korean teacher (and my absolute favorite teacher at the program, so I take her comments in a benign context) who asked our class if we didn’t think that Korean students were “다른 나라 학생보다 더 똑똑하지않아 (just smarter than students from other countries)?”
It might be easy to think so when surrounded by fellow Koreans, but I know several people from countries on either side of this peninsula who would happily disagree.
"Welcome to your new bar. I'll need you to make me a Margarita, a Manhattan and a Caipiroska. You have nine minutes."
After waiting outside a conference room at New York's Marriott Marquis until my group was called, I now found myself standing across from the person who would be judging the practical part (i.e. mixing cocktails from memory) of my BarSmarts Advanced exam. Here I was, me with limited actual bartending experience--beyond whipping up drinks in my home bar, either for myself and my husband, or guests; or as research for the cocktail writing I do--suddenly standing across from the Jim Meehan of New York's PDT. Now, I consider Jim to be a colleague and a friend, and he's been a fabulous and helpful source for many wine and spirits articles I've written over the past few years. But now America's Best Bartender, who owns the World's Best Cocktail Bar (as awarded by Tales of the Cocktail this past summer), was standing, clipboard in hand, ready to critique my mixing, muddling and orange twist garnishes. Yikes.
BarSmarts Advanced is a spirits, mixology and service training and certification program designed exclusively for Pernod Ricard USA. It's instructed by the partners of Beverage Alcohol Resource (BAR), LLC, Dale DeGroff, Doug Frost, Steve Olson, F. Paul Pacult, Andy Seymour and David Wondrich (quite an impressive bunch.) BarSmarts is held each year in New York, San Francisco, Las Vegas and other cities.
Most of the students who take BarSmarts Advanced (not surprisingly) are bartenders looking to improve their knowledge and skills--or sent there at the encouragement of their boss. I had requested a slot--BarSmarts is currently by invitation only--to improve my knowledge of spirits and cocktails to help with my writing. The course itself is a steal: $65 gets you a workbook and 4 training DVDs, a set of bar tools, and a chance to attend the BarSmarts Live! Day.
For almost 2 months, I read the workbook, watched the DVDs, mixed cocktails and memorized their recipes using flash cards I made, and took the 4 online quizzes--passing them guaranteed me a spot at the live day, where I could attend seminars taught by the BarSmarts instructors, and take the two parts of the exam that would grant me my certification: a 100 question multiple choice test, including 15 questions based on blind spirits tasting; and the practical portion, where I would need to make 3 cocktails from memory out of a possible 25 (classics ranging from a Martini, to a Sazerac, to a Mint Julep.) If I didn't pass the test, I thought at the very least I'd be more well-versed in making drinks for my friends in my well-stocked home bar...
I passed the online quizzes, registered for the live day, and kept on studying. Since I don't have a mixology background, the making drinks portion of the exam was more daunting to me than the written part--I've always been a good test taker.
The day of the course finally arrived. We spent the morning in seminars where we talked about bar tips and spirit trends. We learned the process of conducting a spirits tasting, and I even got a great recipe for a classic punch from author and instructor David Wondrich.
I used lunchtime as a last minute cram session, running through my cocktail flash cards so I'd be confident when whipping up whatever drinks I needed to ("Gin Fizz has no ice and no garnish, Tom Collins gets ice and a flag garnish; Sidecar served up gets a sugared rim; don't forget the orgeat syrup in a Mai Tai".) Though the instructors encouraged us to use our own recipes and techniques for the cocktails if we had ones we thought worked better, I stuck to the cards. I'm not a mixologist by trade--who was I to improvise?
The doors to the conference room opened, about eight of us were ushered in, and I was led over to a table that was fully stocked as a bar. Jim smiled--he could probably tell I was pretty nervous--welcomed me to my new bar, and showed me where everything was located: glasses, ice, spirits, mixers, garnishes, rinsing station, trash receptable. Each BarSmarts Advanced student needed to bring our own tools, so I took my shaker, strainers, muddler, jiggers, etc. out of my bag and arranged them on the bar. I was so hoping that I would be making the cocktails I've found myself drinking lately: the Aviation, Blood and Sand, Negroni, classic Martini (50/50).
But all in all, I didn't get a bad selection. First up: the Margarita. I poured in the Tequila first, and then stopped myself after realizing I put in less simple sugar than the recipe called for. "Don't worry about it," Jim said. "Let's see how it goes. I like my drinks tart and we can always add a bit more at the end." I shook it, and served it up, with a half salt-rimmed glass (and I remembered to chill the glass with ice before mixing the drink--something that took some getting used to for someone who doesn't work in a bar and typically uses the kitchen freezer to chill the glass...) I tasted the drink, using my finger to suction up some of it through a straw. It turned out ok after all, though afterwards, Jim told me that I could have asked him if he wanted it on the rocks or up--I automatically served it up, the way I would have ordered it and how it was described in the workbook.
Next, I muddled the lime and simple syrup for the Caipiroska, added vodka, shook it and served it. This drink was pretty easy. I then found out I had three minutes left for drink #3. "Plenty of time," assured Jim.
Drink #3, a Manhattan--my in-law's beverage of choice. Pretty well executed (though my stirring technique still has a bit to be desired...), served up with an orange twist (I wanted to flame it but thought in my nervousness I might singe my finger...) Success--though he reminded me that I should have asked him if he wanted it with a cherry or orange twist. I detest Maraschino cherries (so fake looking and tasting...), so again I made the drink the way I would have wanted it. Note to self: in a bar situation, the customer gets to decide. Oops.
So I ended up having a minute to spare. I cleaned up and packed up my tools while Jim made some last minute notes on the sheet on his clipboard. He also told me that he can tell I know how to make the drinks, the next step is to personalize them by making sure the customer gets them the way they want them. Then I was outta there to take the written part.
Ugh...the written test. I was so worried about mixing the drinks, when the written exam turned out to be harder than I had expected. The questions that gave me trouble were just the ones I assumed would. I'm a gin gal, not a big whiskey affionado. So the info about Bourbon's mashbill, bonded whiskey, blended Scotch, etc. etc. was just hard for me to remember. And at the end of the exam were 15 questions based on blind tasting 3 spirits. I was one of the last ones to leave the testing room, and as I walked back to Penn Station, I wasn't feeling exactly confident... But not matter how it would turn out, I thought it was a great experience and was so glad I pursued it.
However, I found out last weekend that I passed! So I'm BarSmarts certified! Yay me!! Not sure which questions I got wrong on the test--and not sure I will or even want to find out...
I really enjoyed the BarSmarts experience, and would highly recommend it to anyone. Check out their website for detailed information.