LOCALadk Magazine
Issue link: https://localadkmagazine.uberflip.com/i/760149
61 Winter 2016 LOCALadk Magazine LOCALadk Craft cocktails are patently the rage, as is the speakeasy vibe now popular at bars across the globe: people generally love to think they're getting away with some- thing illegal. Low lights, boutique spirits, and bars with names that seem more dan- gerous than inviting: Death & Co., PDT (Please Don't Tell), and The Dead Rabbit rule the mixed drink arena. Incidentally, The Dead Rabbit, a bar seemingly out of place in lower Manhattan's Financial Dis- trict, was recently awarded Best Bar in the World again by both Business Insider and Drinks International magazine. The bar was named after a fabled 1850s Irish gang. Martin Scorsese might have made a fact-based film about that turbulent time, but the Dead Rabbits were a myth. Still, it's a pretty cool name. Zach Blair also might seem worlds away from a cocktail culture more suited to the tony neighborhoods of New York or Lon- don than that of the idyllic hiking paths and mountain lakes of the Adirondacks. Yet born into a middle class family in Sara- nac, New York in 1986, a cocktail prodigy Zach Blair nonetheless is. Hailing from a family of all boys - Zach has three brothers - his mom and dad did what they could to keep everyone happy and healthy. Zach describes his mom as "Mar- tha Stewart-like". Conversely, his father was a strict disciplinarian and worked two jobs to make ends meet, including night shifts as a correctional officer at the max- imum security Clinton Correctional Facility in Dannemore, NY. Zach's parents weren't big drinkers: his dad enjoyed the occasional Genny Lite af- ter work, and his mom threw back a few glasses of "cheap wine" on the weekends, but entertaining and cocktails didn't have a place at the table. In fact, Zach's first ex- perience with alcohol was rather typical: when Zach was in middle school, his older brother brought a pitcher of water and a bottle of Southern Comfort down to Zach's bedroom one night and didn't leave until they finished both. Needless to say, you'll never see a bottle of Southern Comfort on the back of Zach's bar. Ever. Zach experienced a successful high school career—prom king, class president, foot- ball All-Star—but grew increasingly agitat- ed with home life and his parents' rules, until, as he puts it, "They kicked me out. At 17." This might be the death knell for most teenagers, sheepishly returning home with hat in hand, but Zach took the challenge head-on. He moved in with his girlfriend's dad, got a job waiting tables, learned the grind of timely bill paying, and discovered, for the first time in his life, how to cook for himself. It was, as Zach puts it, "A real eye opener." He attended SUNY-Plattsburgh and want- ed to be a teacher. In fact, he was close to graduation when the unexpected knocked at his door: his new girlfriend was preg- nant. He did the only thing he thought was right: he dropped out of school and fo- cused on saving money for his new family. That was when his life changed, but not in the way one might imagine. We Are In The Golden Age of The Cocktail