Jack Boulware

Media star, cocktail creator, and Las Vegas bartender extraordinaire Tony Abou-Ganim, the world’s first monarch of the bar. And the snappiest dresser I’ve ever met.

The $1.7 billion Bellagio hotel and casino epitomizes New Las Vegas — dancing fountains, original art galleries, botanical gardens, and swanky restaurants. Just off the hotel’s main lobby at the Petrossian Bar, pianist Whitey Phoenix accompanies waitresses serving plates of caviar and smoked salmon. Customers in-the-know at this bar will also order a special cocktail called the Cable Car.

One of the Bellagio’s signature beverages, the Cable Car combines Captain Morgan Spiced Rum, orange Curacao, fresh lemon juice, and simple syrup, and comes in a stemmed glass rimmed with cinnamon and sugar. Since the Bellagio opened in 1998, people have been coming here specifically for this cocktail.

One Petrossian bartender, a crusty older fellow whose nametag reads “Dink,” says a few years ago, the Cable Car was named Gourmet magazine’s “Drink Of The Year.” But it wasn’t invented in Vegas. The Cable Car was actually dreamed up in San Francisco, and brought here by its creator, bartender Tony Abou-Ganim.

If there is such a thing as a cocktail superstar, Abou-Ganim is exactly that. Everyone in the bar business knows his name. Cocktails are making a comeback in recent years, and his specialty drinks have been featured in Vanity Fair, Wine Enthusiast, Fortune, Wine Spectator, and The New York Times Magazine. He took home the Gold Medal for the U.S. at the 2003 Bacardi-Martini Grand Prix World Finals in Turin, Italy.

He’s so popular, in fact, he no longer has any time to work behind the bar. He appears on Las Vegas radio each week, talking about cocktails. His segments on mixing drinks air on Fine Living and the Food Network. Conventions hire him as an industry expert. He markets a line of bar tools. A new DVD, “Mix It Up with Tony Abou-Ganim,” will be released in time for Christmas, and a new book, The Modern Mixologist, is scheduled for 2007.

But how does someone achieve such exalted status? How did a struggling actor/bartender from small-town Michigan, become America’s new Libation King?

It all started with the Cable Car. And a phone call from Nevada.

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As with most of the New Vegas, Forum Shops at Caesars Palace boasts several top-tier restaurants, sleek architectural marvels of minimalist glass and steel. The award-winning BOA Steakhouse is unique in that unlike every other building in Sin City, it has an actual window with an actual view of the actual outside world.

BOA’s bar program is designed by Abou-Ganim, and it’s why he wanted to meet here this afternoon. The bar menu features several of his drinks, including the Pimm’s Imperial, a Pimm’s Cup topped with champagne.

After a few minutes he walks in, dressed casually in jeans and shirt, sunglasses tucked in a pocket. He’s handsome and tan, in his mid-40s, nursing a slight Negroni hangover, he admits, from the previous night.

We order lunch, and the waitress brings me a Blackberry Smash, one of Tony’s original concoctions, made with Belvedere citrus vodka, fresh mints and blackberries, blackberry liqueur, lemon juice, simple syrup, and floating on top, a single blackberry dusted with powdered sugar. It’s delicious and hits the spot, perhaps because I am also slightly hung over. Tony opts for a glass of white wine.

We talk about the Blackberry Smash. Coming up with a new drink recipe is a lot like creating a new entrée for a chef, he says.

“You need to take a culinary approach to the drink, and you need to enjoy the drink with all your senses. I always say, enjoying a great cocktail is about the journey, not the destination. Anyone just drinking to get hammered, that’s different. But if you’re enjoying the drink, it should feel good in your hand. It should look attractive. The aromatics, the taste, the feel.”

Abou-Ganim’s journey to his career began one night in 1998, when he came home from a bartending shift at San Francisco’s Starlight Room. A voice message was on his machine: “We’d like to talk to you about a position at the Bellagio in Las Vegas.”

He didn’t know much about Vegas at all, other than visiting a few times a year for a 24-hour blitz, then returning home. “Thank God there were no digital cameras then,” he laughs.

In the summer of 1998 the Bellagio was preparing to open its doors, and owner Steven Wynn wanted to make a big splash. As with the fountains and artwork, the cocktail program needed to be larger than life, bigger than anything done before in Vegas.

“So that it was on par with the restaurants and the chefs,” Abou-Ganim remembers. “They said ‘We want to have our cocktails at that same level.’ I thought they were nuts at first. But I figured I had to do it.”

Bellagio flew him out to Vegas, and he spent the summer planning out a cocktail system for 22 bars and restaurants. There was no precedence, cocktail consultants did not exist.

“I had no idea what I was getting into,” he recalls. “But if the philosophy is solid, it’s just implementing it on a much larger scale. Instead of doing 400 or 500 cocktails a night, you’re doing 25,000. Instead of six bartenders working, you’ve got 180.”

Abou-Ganim wasn’t totally green in the area. He had helped open Harry Denton’s Starlight Room in San Francisco, and created some original cocktails, including the Cable Car. The drink was popular, but he almost didn’t bring it with him to the Bellagio.

“It had such deeply rooted San Francisco heritage, that I thought, nah. So I put it on one menu, and all of a sudden waitresses and bartenders, they sold it. And if the drink delivers, like food, you’re going to be like, ‘Oh that was a great experience. And I’m going to come back for these.’ It’s what I refer to as destination cocktails.”

A plate of black truffle nachos arrives, homemade potato chips smothered in cheese with tiny flecks of truffle. “Perhaps one of the finest things you’ll ever put in your mouth,” says Abou-Ganim. He’s right, they taste ridiculous.

After the Bellagio opened, the Cable Car’s reputation took on a life of its own. Abou-Ganim would be working behind a bar, buffing glasses, and heard the word of mouth growing about his swanky new cocktail.

“People would come up and say, ‘Are you the guy who makes Cable Cars? My friend Dorothy told me that when we came to Las Vegas, we gotta go to the Bellagio, we gotta have a Cable Car.’ And I’m just thinking, how cool is that?”

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America claims a rich yet rocky history of cocktails. Before Prohibition, making a drink was an art form taken quite seriously, especially in the larger cities. Bartenders studied under a two-year apprenticeship, before they were allowed to work at one of the grand hotels.

The nation’s alcohol ban essentially turned bartending into a criminal act, and most either fled to Europe, or quit the business entirely. Once Prohibition was lifted in 1933, few trained bartenders were left in the U.S. So bar owners found easier and cheaper ways to move the product. Packaged mixers and canned condiments — none of these methods involved the fine art of cocktail preparation.

“If you follow the history at all. I really believe that our profession is still reeling from the effects of Prohibition,” says Abou-Ganim.

Fortunately for him, this lost art had not disappeared completely. In 1936 his aunt Helen David opened the Brass Rail bar on the site of the family ice cream parlor, in Port Huron, Michigan. Women didn’t set foot in a saloon in those days, much less own and operate one. But Helen David didn’t listen to such nonsense. She would run the bar herself for the next 69 years, until her passing this year at 91.

Now a Port Huron institution, the Brass Rail is legendary for its secret Tom and Jerry mix, created by a 21-year-old Helen David and her girlfriends, in the apartment upstairs from the bar. The young women made batter after batter, until they came up with the recipe that is still used today to warm up customers on a cold winter day.

“She was an amazing woman,” he says. “She did great things for our industry.”

Abou-Ganim recalls visiting the bar often as a child. “It was basically a shot-and-beer place, fourteen stools, 140 capacity. A beautiful back bar, from Italy, 180 years old. Tiffany light fixtures, onyx pillars, big mirrors. My father would take me in, I would get those kiddie cocktails.”

As a teenager, Abou-Ganim worked at the Brass Rail for his aunt, stocking the beer coolers, and later moved behind the bar, mixing drinks and learning the trade from Helen, the Queen of Port Huron.

“I started with an understanding of the classic cocktails, which was great. If you look at the classics, drinks like the Daquiri, the Sidecar, they always follow a very simple recipe. They’re all four ingredients or less. And they all let the base spirit come through.”

Abou-Ganim left the Brass Rail, despite his aunt’s urging to become a chef. “She wanted to send me to culinary school. I was like, ‘I really want to be an actor.’”

“In 1980, the bar business still wasn’t really something that you wanted your loved ones to aspire to,” he laughs. “It was kind of a part-time gig.”

Instead, he moved to San Francisco and became — what else — a part-time bartender. He formed a theater group with some co-workers, who were also actors, and they called themselves the Pour Boys.

“Bartending was always flexible, you could do a play, rehearsals. When I first started, I had no idea what was in any of those bottles,” he admits. “I just was there to make drinks fast, try to meet the girl at the end of the bar, make my money, and have the flexibility to act.”

Like so many aspiring actors, he ended up in New York in 1993, hustling auditions and working shifts at Po, an Italian restaurant in the West Village then owned by chef Mario Batelli.

Through the Po connections, he was introduced to Dale DeGroff, celebrated barman at the Rainbow Room in 30 Rockefeller Plaza. DeGroff had built up a “King of Cocktails” reputation on using fresh and exotic ingredients, and was creating hundreds of new drink recipes.

And that meeting with DeGroff over a Negroni (gin, Campari, sweet vermouth), was for Abou-Ganim, the moment of reckoning.

“Meeting Dale, and watching him work at the Rainbow Room, and watching his passion for making great cocktails, this light kind of went off,” he says. “Here I am, chasing this dream of acting — everyone should chase their dreams — but I have this great profession that I have a little more control over. I can remember sitting there thinking, there’s something to be discovered here.”

In 1995 Abou-Ganim returned to San Francisco and helped opened Harry Denton’s Starlight Room at the top of the Sir Francis Drake Hotel, famous for its doormen dressed as Beefeaters. He began creating signature cocktails like the Starlight and the Cable Car. And through the bar’s national reputation, his star began to rise.

San Francisco bartenders and restaurant people all remember Tony Abou-Ganim from this era. He was the dashing actor who dressed sharp, dated beautiful women, and drove around the city on a Harley. He was the guy who appeared in an ad for Campari.

He was also taking his profession more seriously, using fresh juices and ingredients. He researched old cocktail books, learning the history and the recipes. He developed new respect for old-school San Francisco restaurateurs like Doug Biederbeck (Bix, Florio, MarketBar) and Norm Hobday, owner of Rickenbacker’s and founder of the notorious 1970s fern bar Henry Africa’s.

He was living a full life, and had no intentions of leaving. But what he didn’t know was the impending opening of the Bellagio. When Steven Wynn’s people contacted Dale DeGroff in New York, asking for suggestions on who could set up their bar program, DeGroff recommended Abou-Ganim.

It was a moment of opportunity meeting preparation. And so he reluctantly parted ways with the Pour Boys and the Starlight Room, and was off to Las Vegas.

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Today, Tony Abou-Ganim and “The Modern Mixologist” is fast becoming a branded name. In addition to the media appearances and product lines, he spends at least half the month on the road giving seminars, training bartenders, and setting up beverage programs. He spends very little time behind the bar anymore, except to travel back to Michigan for the holidays, where he helps serve up Tom and Jerry’s at the Brass Rail.

Part of his mission is education, to make people feel less intimidated about cocktails, whether it’s approaching a bar to order a drink, or entertaining friends at home.

He encourages all bartenders to learn their craft. If a customer asks a question, the person behind the bar should know the difference between single-malt scotches, or be able to describe the flavors of Benedictine and Pernod, or talk about the varieties of Cachaças and Piscos.

“If I recommended a fresh White Peach Bellini, and you tasted it and you didn’t like it, I’ll get you your Budweiser,” he says. “But nine out of ten times, people would say, ‘Oh, wow, this is cool.’ Because people, I think, want a new experience.”

Another of his goals for consumers, is to sift through the unnecessary complexity that surrounds the cocktail world.

“I never try to stifle anyone’s creativity, but it’s sometimes getting almost a little too esoteric. I don’t really need gold flakes floating in my drink. I was at a restaurant the other day and they had 116 drinks on their menu, and they all basically followed the same formula, which was no formula,” he chuckles. “They would have Apple Pucker, and Midori, and Blue Curacao, and Chamborge — all in the same drink! I’m like, I would vomit.”

Something he learned from working with Mario Batali, is that less is more, whether it’s making tomato sauce or a Sidecar. The key is to use fresh ingredients, and try what’s in season, from blood oranges and apricots, to Michigan bing cherries or Georgia peaches.

He’s invented dozens of new cocktails over the years. Occasionally he’ll even wake up in the middle of the night with a new idea for a drink, and scribble it down. Recipes are tested at his home with a select group of friends, utilizing access to his personal stash of ingredients and tinctures.

Abou-Ganim grabs another bite of truffle nachos, and explains that if a bartender follows a basic formula of base spirit, modifier, and accents, the ingredients should all work to complement each other.

“A great margarita should be about a tequila. It shouldn’t be about an artificial imitation sweet and sour mix. If I have a great margarita, and it’s made with El Toroso Silver, or Padron Reposada, or Herradura Añejo, they should all be wonderful, but they should all be different, because I can taste and appreciate the tequila. The complexity of the tequila comes through. Every tequila has a different flavor profile.”

It isn’t rocket science to Tony Abou-Ganim. It’s really just about knowing the classic formulas, and understanding flavors and how they work together. “I know that Captain Morgan Spicy Rum goes great with citrus, goes great with orange, goes great with cinnamon. I know that Mount Gay, which is a complex rum with layers of banana and chocolate, naturally will go great with those flavors.”

“And then you put it in the glass, and that’s the fun part.” He laughs. “I think it needs a little more rum!”

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MODERN MIXOLOGIST RECIPES
By Tony Abou-Ganim

Cable Car
1 1/2 ounces Captain Morgan Spiced Rum
3/4 ounce Marie Brizard orange Curaçao
1 1/2 ounces fresh sour *
Add rum, Curaçao and fresh sour into mixing glass, shake until well blended. Straing into chilled sugar-cinnamon frosted cocktail glass and garnish with orange spiral.
(*2 parts fresh filtered lemon juice, 1 part simple syrup)

White Peach Bellini
2 ounces fresh white peach puree*
3 ounces Prosecco sparkling wine
Add Prosecco and puree to ice-filled mixing glass. Roll drink between glass and mixing tin to blend. Strain into chilled champagne flute.
(*Blanch peaches in boiling water for 1 minute, transfer to ice water bath. Remove skin and stone, place into food processor. Add 1 teaspoon lemon juice for every two peaches. Sweeten to taste.)

Brandy Crusta 21
1/2 lemon
Superfine sugar
2 ounces Hennessy VS Cognac
1/2 ounce orange Curaçao
1/4 ounce Maraschino Luxardo liqueur
1 ounce fresh lemon juice
1/2 ounce simple syrup
Dash Angostura bitters
Pare half a lemon in one-piece spiral; arrange lemon peel spiral to line inside of glass. Fill small cocktail shaker with one-third cup cracked ice. Add Cognac, Curaçao, Maraschino liqueur, lemon juice, simple syrup and bitters. Shake well. Strain into sugar-frosted cocktail glass.

Pimm’s Imperial
Ice
1 1/2 ounces Pimm’s No. 1 Cup
2 ounces fresh lemon juice
1 ounce simple syrup
2 ounces chilled Champagne
2 thin slices each of cucumber, apple and strawberry, plus 1 mint sprig
Fill cocktail shaker with ice. Add Pimm’s, lemon juice and simple syrup and shake well. Strain into ice-filled white wine glass and top with Champagne. Garnish with cucumber, apple and strawberry slices and mint sprig.

Primo Margarita
1 1/2 ounces Patron Silver tequila (or other 100 percent Agave silver tequila)
3/4 ounce Contreau
2 ounces fresh lemon sour
Freshly-squeezed juice from one lime
Add ingredients into ice-filled mixing glass, shake until blended. Strain into ice-filled tumbler and garnish with wedge of lime.

Very Sexy Cocktail
1 1/2 ounce Belvedere citrus vodka
3/4 ounce Marie Brizard Cassis de Bordeaux
1 1/2 ounce fresh lemon sour
Moet White Star champagne
Marinated wild berries*
Put Belvedere, cassis and fresh sour in ice-filled shaker. Shake until well blended, strain into chilled cocktail glass with marinated berries. Top with champagne.
(* Marinate wild raspberries and blackberries in superfine sugar and Grand Marnier for six hours)

(A version of this article first appeared in Southwest Spirit magazine)