Are Bar Carts Cool? My vote: usually not.
For the sake of full disclosure: I used to have a bar cart, which we sold on Craigslist a few months ago. It was underpowered as a storage space, and completely useless (though never intended) as a drink preparation space. It was a free castoff from family friends, and was always temporary.
EE pointed me to Maria Ricapito’s article in the NY Times about bar carts, which she saw on Eddie Ross’s excellent blog (he is featured in the article).
Eddie Ross’s bar cart, from his blog.
I’ve shaken a lot of martinis, and despite being crowded with a shaker and gin, that cart does not have what it takes – namely a work surface. Plus, what happens to that glassware when you or a guest kicks the cart, throws your dog a tennis ball, or worse, if a small child comes over? Eddie may well understand these limitations and have a plan for them, but I’m inclined to think it is more for show. With due respect, this is not a mixologist’s cart – this is a poser cart.
The article’s basic point is that bar carts have had a resurgence recently, which can’t be denied. What I question is whether bar carts really serve, or should serve, any of the reasons the article identified for the resurgence. I identify these as:
- Guests can make their own drinks – how Mad Men retro!
- Having the liquor visually present encourages having a drink.
- Carts look so good that the host is justified in limiting the drink options.
- Carts in the living room remove the drink mess from the kitchen (so it can stop interfering with meal prep).
I take issue with all of these, because they place the style of the drink above the enjoyability of the drink (see the Theory) and the social responsibilities of a host. Let’s go in order (and then probably throw in a bit more):
1. Guests can make their own drinks
Unless the guest is very good friends with the host, or is explicitly asked to mix drinks by the host, a guest who barges over to the bar and pours a drink is not particularly polite. How is the guest to know drinks are being offered? How should the guest know if a particular bottle is being saved for a special occasion?
I’ve been a guest, and I’ve been a host, and guests are rarely comfortable mixing their own drinks. Actually, most people aren’t very comfortable mixing drinks at all, but I hope this blog helps people get over that. Offering a guest a drink is a gracious act, whereas simply pointing to the bar is likely to cause anxiety and indecision. The result is that people will pour/mix the simplest thing available. Given the choice between mixing a drink and pouring already-open wine, people pour the wine.
Fine, so the host says, as graciously as possible, ”make a drink, there’s my lovely bar cart.” Then the guest is not being rude by barging over, but the host(ess) could probably do better. (Unless, ahem, the guest is me; I’ll admit I enjoy mixing drinks for a party in almost anyone’s home.) I try to avoid gratuitous references to Mad Men, because as a general rule, I do not think it portrays the best version of American cocktail culture. But, for the sake of argument, even on Mad Men - Don offers the drinks when guests come over. Don does not say, “would you like a drink? The bar’s over there.” Knox Harrington does say that in The Big Lebowski, and the Dude identifies him as “a friend with a cleft asshole.” The Dude has it right.
2. Having liquor omnivisible is good
This point is more debatable, and depends a great deal on the specifics of the home, bar cart, and entertaining style. Still, the premise is generally suspect.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with having cocktail after work, but there is something wrong with ex-Domino editor Deborah Needleman’s suggestion that, “The idea of walking over and fixing myself or my husband a drink after a long day is so visually appealing.” Yes a drink can, and should, be visually appealing, but you shouldn’t need liquor stored in the living room to convince you to have a drink at the end of the day… Nor should you drink cocktails out of visual vanity. Do you need your coffee maker in the living room to offer people coffee? Home mixology is meant to provide great drinks, which people want because they are great drinks. It is not, and should not be, more complicated than that.
Additionally, many of the carts have a lower shelf designed for glassware – a fairly serious safety hazard to even closely-supervised and well-behaved children and pets. Whoa, didn’t think Tessa has kids? You’re right, I don’t, but I’d say it is being a poor host to try and entertain seriously in a home that is hostile to children for even short visits.
Beyond all that, I obviously like drinking, but sometimes everyone needs a break. Some guests are on a very prolonged break from alcohol (or are too youg for it). And the sight of a bar cart is rarely an appropriate part of a breakfast mileau. If the bar cart truly wheels in and out, great, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to make it a permanent living room fixture.
3. A pretty cart justifies limited drink options
Apparently, a bar cart is “a signifier of graciousness, good breeding, conviviality and sophistication.” I don’t think a bar cart is the opposite, but I think if you’re seeking to invest in this kind of signifier, maybe just buy good art. The bar cart itself is neither here nor there.
When I went to Employees Only during the Manhattan Cocktail Classic, I heard the wise advice that dictating what someone drinks is an “act of violence” upon that poor soul. We all like different things, and drinks can be very, very different. Sure, you want to encourage a general atmosphere, but you should not be serving sweet champagne drinks only. It’s upsetting to those of us who hate sweet champagne drinks.
If you want to “curate” a balanced selection of cocktails for your party, then great. If you want to tell people to just bring what they want, also great. Or, just as good, DON’T OFFER DRINKS! Cocktails are not mandatory unless you’re having a cocktail party. Do I like cocktails added to almost any event? Obviously, but believing that you are being a gracious, sophisticated host by serving a severely limited selection of poorly-chosen cocktails is just plain wrong.
What this boils down to is: don’t be a poser. If you don’t actually live a life that needs a cocktail cart, don’t try to force the issue for the sake of style.
4. The cart is a good place to make drinks
Have you ever made a drink? Any drink? Most carts are small with almost zero work surface. Pay attention, and you’ll notice in Mad Men that the little trays and carts in people’s offices do not render mixed drinks – they render liquor neat or on the rocks. Occasionally seltzer may make it in. This is not mixology. And yes, you be specific, gracious, and polite in offering someone a whiskey. If that is the limit of your drink-making in a given setting, then yes, a cart is ideal.
But for anything beyond the most basic of drinks, the tools alone take up too much space: knife, cutting board, mixer, ice, strainer, spoon, jigger, and we haven’t even gotten to the non-alcohol ingredients (limes take up lots of space and are really uncool when off-cart rolling around the party). Then start cutting the limes; they’re a mess. Ok, Ok, what about martinis? You could shake a simple martini. Maybe true, if it were the only drink you served, but you still need a bucket to dump the used ice in. The biggest problem with taking the mixology out of the kitchen is the lack of a sink. Shakers don’t need to be washed between every drink - rinsing is probably fine - but it’s hard to rinse at a cart in your living room.
Carts can be effective storage – and when I had a cart, that’s what it was for – but I challenge you to consider whether something else may be better. Don’t automatically think you’re “a pretty cool dude if you have a cocktail cart.”
Summary
Carts can be effective storage, and can be a lovely support to certain drinking habits such as:
- occasional scotch on the rocks
- displaying a few prized items
- limited storage
- access to booze if your home is so large that traveling from the smoking room to the butler’s pantry is tiresome
Ultimately, however, carts cannot provide the functions suggested by the Times article. I think Steven Sclaroff (quoted in the article) has the best insights, “I need way more room for bottles et al than a cart generally provides. If you like liquor, they’re scrunchy…. They can be adorable objects, but even I stop drinking before I would need the liquor rolled up to me.”
My current mixology cabinet. Finding a larger, safer space – a closet, a cabinet, an armoire - hopefully somewhat near to a sink (or realistically equiped to function without one), is generally superior to a dusty bar cart.
