Why I Like Being the Bartender

Yesterday my wife and I hosted our own Midyear Review at home — the private version, with friends and a few drinks.

I can’t share much of what was said. So I’ll share this instead.

At our home parties, I’m usually the bartender.

The chef is my dear wife — so making drinks is how I get to contribute.

Our usual menu:

Alcohol —
Plum wine
A gin or two
A whisky or two

To mix —
Soda water
Tonic

I enjoy this role more than I expected to.

I can’t drink much myself, but there’s a quiet fulfillment in making something and watching it be enjoyed by people I care about.

Over the years I’ve picked up a small skill too: adjusting the ratio to the person asking. You come to know each person’s taste, and the drink becomes a little way of saying I know you.

But the part I think of first isn’t the drinks.

It’s the kitchen.

It sits only a few meters from the living room, yet during a party it becomes a separate place. And when a friend wanders in, that small distance does something — it opens a private room inside the private party. People say a little more there than they would on the sofa.

So I slow down. I take my time with the ice, the pour, the stir — anything to let the conversation keep going.

The first real conversation between my wife and me happened in a kitchen like this.

Maybe that’s why I like being the bartender.
(Not that I’m looking for that kind of conversation these days.)