Mays - New Mexico cocktails: a history of drinking in the Land of Enchantment

Published by American Palate

A Division of The History Press

Charleston, SC

www.historypress.net

Copyright 2016 by Gregory L. Mays

All rights reserved

Cover image: Corrie Photography, courtesy of Rancho de Chimay Restaurant.

First published 2016

e-book edition 2016

ISBN 978.1.43965.688.4

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016932070

print edition ISBN 978.1.46713.556.6

Notice: The information in this book is true and complete to the best of our knowledge. It is offered without guarantee on the part of the author or The History Press. The author and The History Press disclaim all liability in connection with the use of this book.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form whatsoever without prior written permission from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I have no doubt that my wife, Lisa, knows that this space is meant for her. We got married as teenagers, weve had three kids together, grown up a lot, made a lot of mistakes and have had a lot of fun making those mistakes, too. There is no doubt that my first book would never have been done without her love, encouragement and friendship. Thank you for everything, Lisa!

There are a bunch of people who Ive gotten to know in the world of craft cocktails who have been nothing short of warm, welcoming, funny, generous and friendly. To everyone who has welcomed me into your community, even as a non-bartender and liquor newbie, cheers to you!

INTRODUCTION

Its a warm summer night in Santa Fe, 1880, and youre sitting in a local saloon. The windows have been thrown open to beat the heat, and your ears are already ringing from the volume of the joint. At one end of the bar is the dance hall, where a rowdy square dance is going on, called out by a local square dance calling celebrity of sorts. Travelers are in town from Albuquerque; Las Vegas, New Mexico; and all the way up from Deming (thanks to the railroad). There are men at the tables with cowboy hats, many with sombreros and every one of em with a pair of boots. Bandanas around the neck are commonplace, too, because while this is a sophisticated group, an unexpected opportunity to rob someone will most certainly be taken advantage of. Spanish and English can be heard equally from both sides of the bar, and whether its a cerveza or a beer, patrons are drinking all the bartender can serve em. In fact, thats about all the bartender is serving, plus whiskies.

This is the Wild West.

Drinkers are disappointed that the whiskey their daddies told them aboutTaos Lightningdried up when Turley got killed by the natives, but there are some newcomers who picked up where ol Simeon left off. And whiskey was to get drunk anyways, so who cares?

Over near the dance floor, there are some ladies who are enjoying themselves quite a bit, too. Their dates have money and came up from Kansas or someplace, but the ladies dont care because tonight is the only night these cowboys could afford a date anyways. Really working for the bar, these friendly ladies (ahem) ask the bartender for cocktails: ones fer each of us, baybee, and ones fer our boy-friends too. The bartender sets out six glasses, pours a slosh of whiskey in all of them with one quick move, adds a splash of water and a dash of bitters to each and hands them over. That flourish, the bartender knows, lets him mark the price up on their drinks from the usual whiskey straight, and he appreciates the ladies for helping him out in that way. These fancy drinks are for patrons who can afford to pay for both them and for their dates tonight.

You were told this was the end of the track when you bought your train tickets, and you can see why now. All in the same breath, youve seen a fistfight, a gunfight, a round of square dancing and a round lady whos working every peso she can out of her boy-friends pockets.

Now, Santa Fe is not quite yet part of New Mexico, the state, but it has been a territory for a couple decades. Statehoods about thirty years away at this point. Its this sort of reputation, the one thats unfolding here in this saloon tonight, thats made the government hesitant to grant statehood at this point. You fought for the Union at the Battle of Glorieta Pass a few years back and beat the hell outta those Confederates (theyll never be back)!

Frankly, as you approach forty, your days as an honorary New Mexican are numbered. This is a pretty rough territory to survive in, and the lack of statehood leads to the continued Wild West reputation of this place.

Two fights and two dances later, you stagger out onto the dusty street. Youve had a long day working in the dust, which came through New Mexico from the Arizona territory just this year. Immediately once you step off the saloons porch onto the street, you can hear a loud crash behind you, and one of the ladies dates is yelling something.

Looks like he came to New Mexico to play cowboy. His hats pitch black, not a trace of the dust you see on those of the railroad-working locals, but his girlfriends yelling at him too. Honey, lets just-a go back insiiiidee! she says, grappling at his chubby thighs. I got something to settle with this cowboy, Mr. Kansas tells her. You look around, and he appears to be talking to you, thanks to his four or five fancy cocktails.

Yeah, Kansas?! you say, waiting for a coherent response so you can figure out what youve done wrong this time. Hes still yelling and mumbling at the same time, but you note that his hand is moving toward his waist, where his revolvers waiting to be unholstered. You instinctively step to the right, expecting to hear the whizz of Kansass bullet ringing in your left ear any moment, but as he steps off the porch, he plants his foot right where Kansas folks often forget to look: in a New Mexico pancakeyknow, from the horses that are tethered there.

Youngsters at a bar in Mogollon, New Mexico, 1940. Photo by Russell Lee, Library of Congress.

Kansas has lost his mind so much that even his girlfriend appears to have given up at this point. Hes unholstered his revolver now, though, and appears to have it stuck between his chubby thigh and his newly found pancake. You reach downward and raise your eyebrow, and through your full, jet-black mustache, Kansass girlfriend can see you grin at her. You grip the butt of your revolver, lift it to arms length and pull the trigger once.

Grin still glistening though your whiskey-soaked mustache, you stagger around on your boot heel, back toward home, not in a hurry but not taking your time. Youve got to wake up early in the morning to work down at the railroad.

Chapter 1

NEW MEXICO AND COCKTAILS

Welcome to New Mexico! Our state is one of snowy mountains, open plains, precious mineral mines, sweltering deserts, hiking and camping. We have big cities, small agrarian towns and everything in between. What we really are beneath the surface, though, is Wild West. Billy the Kid and his Regulators, the mining town of Silver City and the oldest capital in the United States (Santa Fe) help to remind us of our rugged reputation. This reputation hasnt changed much either; cowboy and chile farmer remain very common job descriptions in New Mexico, and while Albuquerques fame has grown through tourist-famous events like International Balloon Fiesta (the most photographed event in the world), television shows like