"Do you have a cocktail list?" is one of the first questions I am often asked as a waiter in an upscale restaurant. It is one of the few questions I get to cheerfully answer with a big "no."

"You should really have one," is sometimes the response that follows. "Don't you have a signature cocktail or something?"

No, we really, really shouldn't and no, we do not.

And then I get to say something along the lines of "Well, we thought about it for a while, but Greeks don't really drink cocktails-- they drink wine, and beer, and ouzo. I suppose we could mix them all together for you, if you like."

More often than not, they will need a moment to get the imaginary taste of that concoction out of their mouths and regroup. Quite often, their drink of choice ends up something depressing, like a Cosmopolitan, or something perfectly respectable but equally unimaginative, like a martini. And the martini that is ordered is often done so incorrectly.

On one hand, I do see the point of cocktail lists. People seem to need help with their drinking. The thought of facing a full bar stocked with hundreds of liquors blended into thousands of different combinations is enough to pickle anyone's brain, even before it has become clouded with alcohol and a little printed instruction can often help a drinker narrow his choices to those that the list-offering establishment feels it does best.

On the other, heavier hand, I am tired of the fact that nearly every watering hole seems to have a menu of "signature cocktails." There are a few places around town (Alembic, Aziza, and Clock Bar, to name a few good ones) that offer up delicious, inventive cocktails that are, in fact, unique and they rightly highlight them in menu form. It's all the others I take issue with. The So-and-so Martini (made with Ketel One and a splash of cranberry!). That is not a signature cocktail, that's called pushing premium liquor. It's also called a Cape Cod in a Martini glass.

I am also tired of the general lack of creative naming. So many venues have several (insert noun here)-tinis: The Saketini, The Mangotini, The Weenytini. Or The (insert name of venue) Cosmo.

Enough already.

If one is going to create a signature cocktail, I say make it memorable. Make a statement. Create a drink philosophy and apply it to your inventions. I have currently been looking for a way to help alcoholics get more nutritional bang out of their cocktails by creating a series of meals-in-a-glass.

When discussing this idea the other night over dinner, my friend Jen stared at her beer for a moment and declared, "You know what I like about beer? It's like there's a sandwich in every glass."

And so the idea took off. All sorts of cocktail ideas poured out of my friends as quickly as the beer was being poured into them, all mocking the "tini" trend: The BLTini, The Pork n' Beanitini, the super-spicy TNTini. And then, when discussing Nabokov, somebody came up with the Tweeni. I don't even want to think about what might go into one of those.

So today, I leave you with a future, classic drink-- my first "signature cocktail." It's much more than a drink, it's an entire meal unto itself. A perfect little lunchtime tipple. And, to keep Jen happy, there's a sandwich in every glass.

The Martuna

Serves one. It will most likely be the only one.

Ingredients:

3 parts vodka
1 part canned spring water from your favorite can of tuna. Do not use oil-packed.
Ice
Mayonnaise
Ruffles potato chips, crushed. Whichever flavor you prefer
Cornichons

Preparation:

1. In a mortar and pestle, crush potato chips until fine, but not too fine-- you still want a hint of their ridges to show. Empty the crushed chips onto a small, round plate in an even layer.

2. Smooth about 2 tablespoons of mayonnaise across the bottom of a similar plate. Gently coat the rim of the glass with the mayonnaise, then roll the now-wet rim into the crushed chips to create an even, attractive coating.

3. In a cocktail shaker, place ice, vodka, and tuna water. Shake vigorously.

4. Pour cocktail into the awaiting glass and garnish with cornichons.

Serve immediately.

Variations:

There are two classic twists on this All-American cocktail:

For a Martuna-on-Rye, replace the vodka with Akvavit.

For a Martuna Melt, simply swap out the mayonnaise for melted Velveeta cheese.

Pendennis Cocktails, Heaven's Dog

San Francisco is becoming extremely well known for its cocktails. In December, the New York Times said this of San Francisco: "In the San Francisco Bay Area, a growing scene of local distillers and bartenders capable of wielding their elixirs to maximum effect has emerged."

I have a first-hand love of San Francisco's focus on cocktails, having been the unofficial leader of a band of friends who go from bar to bar tasting the best cocktail that the bar has to offer. We've been to 22 bars so far, and there is no end in sight for the excellent cocktails we can continue to have in San Francisco.

So when a town with such a vibrant cocktail scene announces an entire week dedicated to cocktails, I circle that week on my calendar in red. San Francisco Cocktail Week is presented by the Barbary Coast Conservancy of the American Cocktail, which is an organization who is preserving the art of the cocktail in San Francisco. Here is the official schedule, but below are some events that I am especially interested in attending:

US Bartenders' Guild National Competition
Tuesday, May 12, 5.00 pm at Harry Denton's Starlight Room
Admission: Free
This is the competition for the National Champion Title, and is sure to be fun to watch.

Farmers Market Cocktails with CUESA
Wednesday, May 13, 5.30 pm at the Ferry Building
Admission: $30.
This will be the third time that CUESA has hosted a cocktail event which features market ingredients. It's fun to see what bartenders do with the inspiration of the market. This event will focus on cane-based spirits. Admission cost includes two full cocktails and approximately a dozen tastes of other cocktails. Among the confirmed bartenders are some of my favorites in town: Scott Baird, Carlos Yturria, Dominic Venegas and Jackie Patterson. Buy tickets soon, this will probably sell out.

Day of Education
Thursday, May 14, various locations
Cost: $30-$40 per class
On Thursday, you can attend several classes on topics surrounding cocktails. I'm especially interested in the class about house-made ingredients, and the class about Barbary Coast Cocktails. Check out all the classes and buy tickets here.

Stomping through the Savoy
Sunday, May 17, Alembic, from 6pm on.
Cost: Free with a charge for cocktails
Friend and cocktail master Erik Ellestad will be behind the bar at the Alembic. Approximately once a month, Alembic allows customers to thumb through the Savoy Cocktail Book and choose any cocktail from the book to try. I haven't made it to this event in the past, but hope to do so on the 17th.

Related:
Listen to a Sparkletack podcast about the Cocktail Route of the 1890's.
Commentary on the SF Cocktail Scene on Alcademics.
Watch the official site for additions to the schedule.

Is there a drink for every occasion and mood? When one reaches for the bottle for any given reason, Deborah Pardes of Get Smart Radio wanted to know "which one?"

On April 1st, Pardes invited mixlogist Brian MacGregor of Jardinière and wine wiz Debbie Zachareas of Ferry Plaza Wine Merchant to discuss The Heart of Drinking: The Psychology of Mixology and Enology at Coffee Bar-- a place where, appropriately, the beverages of choice are much less about caffeine and more about alcohol in the darker hours of the day.

Taped before a live audience, the episode promised to get to the bottom of the issue-- and the bottle-- with a little help from a live audience and the lively Get Smartypants Band. Pardes kept the show moving along with questions from the audience, a few corny jokes, and a topical song here and there. Sort of like Dinah Shore, but minus the cooking segments, Tennessee accent, and three-camera technology. Like Miss Shore, the tone of the show was as bubbly as a bottle of good champagne, but didn't really get too deep into the Heart of Drinking. Instead, the show seemed more about Drinking with Heart than anything else, which seemed to suit the audience just fine.

As the show moved along, MacGregor and Zachareas discussed the appropriate wines and cocktails to accompany any number of moods and occasions as promised by the show's title.

For weddings, births, and other celebrations of hope and newness, the obvious answer was champagne. The bubbles rise to the level of our spirits. Funerals? That's another drink entirely, unless one is especially delighted by the deceased's passing. Browner liquids, such as scotch or bourbon were deemed appropriately somber and comforting.

What do you drink when you are happy? Is it the same thing you drink when you're sad or bored or trying to get laid? According to the audience, the answer was yes. To them, tequila was the answer to everything. Zachareas agreed, while MacGregor opted for a classic daquiri for a splash of sexiness. Sugar-rimmed beverages were listed, along with the obvious correlating jokes.

Near the end of the broadcast, or podblast as it was termed, the audience members were invited to take a quiz. Hands were raised, people were called upon to exhibit their listening comprehension skills, and prizes were won. I left the evening with a bag of white cheddar cheese-flavored Smartfood popcorn, one of Deborah Pardes' compact discs and a bellyful of Belgian beer.

But I came away with a bit more than that. When I got home from the show, I was forced to examine my own drinking preferences: the Friday tradition of dry gin Martinis, the warmth-giving of winter-drunk Manhattans, the cooling summertime Vespers and crisp white wines, the solace of a neat rye whiskey, the edge-blurring world-weariness of a good Negroni. I have my drinks that I reach for, whatever my mood.

And now I am thinking about the weekend ahead. What to drink to send off a friend moving back to Paris for a few months? A French 75 or two? What to have after chasing three children for an afternoon? Something strong, I should think. And what does one drink with an old soul after a day's urban hike? Something that screams San Francisco, perhaps. Something obscure. I haven't yet decided. And I don't have to.

I think I'll just see where my mood takes me.