Sir? Your Pants Are on Fire

If you know anything about cocktail history, chances are you have heard of Mr. Jerry Thomas, aka the ‘Professor’, aka the ‘Father of Mixology’. In case you don’t know, Jerry Thomas is perhaps most famous for publishing the first known collection of cocktail and punch recipes. Entitled A Bartender’s Guide (followed by a bunch of other words not worth reading), this 1862 publication includes 220 recipes for punches, cocktails, and other mixed drinks. And although the legacy of this bartender is quite a positive one, I can’t help but think there is something fishy about the beloved Jerry P. Thomas’s illustrious career. And I am not referring to the taste of his drinks.

I’m not suggesting that Jerry wasn’t popular. Clearly, he was. I am also not suggesting he didn’t make a lot of money as a bartender, even if he was known for mixing a drink with two rats running over his shoulders. After all, how else could he show up to work wearing giant diamond pendants on his shirts, to match the studs that clung to his wrists and each of his fingers? And I surely don’t think there is another bartender in history that could afford to announce their London shifts by dropping flyers out of a hot air balloon.

What I am suggesting however is that Jerry might have worked extremely hard to craft his well-regarded reputation. Truthfully, there really isn’t all that much we do know about the barman. Except of course for the things that the master has told us himself, including the gifting of his distinguished title “Professor,” by his fan club.  A title by the way that he shared with Boston bartender William Pitcher who earned this nickname from the Harvard students he served cocktails to. Yet Jerry has shared more of his personal contributions to mixology than this.

For example, an 1880 newspaper reports that Jerry Thomas revealed a fascinating story about how he conjured up the recipe for a drink called the Tom & Jerry. (Just a quick disclaimer that this drink was not named after the Hannah Barbera cartoon that was created almost a century later.) Anyway, he stated that in 1847 a customer requested an egg beaten with sugar. While I agree that this combination probably didn’t taste so great, Jerry tells us his seventeen-year-old-self had an epiphany during this moment behind the bar. His genius idea? If he added brandy to this egg and sugar duo, it might be delicious. Of course, he tells us, it was. “The Professor” then states that after a few months of dreaming about this pride and joy combination, he finally just decided to name the drink after himself, hence Tom and Jerry. I’ll admit, the story might demonstrate Jerry’s off-the-cuff prowess and mastery of flavour, sort of.

But I find the entire tale a bit suspicious. He says the punch is made of rum and maybe some brandy. This makes the recipe similar to a drink called the flip, which was already around for centuries, as was the phrase ‘Tom and Jerry.’ This term was widely used in nineteenth century English slang. It meant ‘to fight and cause trouble’. Maybe that was just a coincidence. Maybe it was also a coincidence that the name ‘Tom & Jerry’ also referred to a popular punch of eggs, sugar, brandy and rum that was created in England a decade before Jerry was even born. Am I implying here that Jerry may have taken credit for this drink?  Yes. Yes, I am. What’s worse is that I don’t think this is the only drink Jerry Thomas had taken credit for. Thanks to the publication of A Bartender’s Guide there are quite a few recipes associated with Jerry that show signs of a mysterious origin someplace else, including the Martinez, precursor to the Martini, and the Brandy Daisy (more on that in another post). It kind of makes me wonder what else Jerry might have taken credit for during his celebrated lucrative career.

In fact, the only drink we can confidently attribute to the star-studded barman is the Blue Blazer. Far from a mixologist’s magnum opus, this drink consists of three ingredients creatively combined to produce a very exceptional flavour. (that’s more sarcasm) Those three ingredients are whiskey, sugar, and water. Other than the exclusion of bitters, I’m having a hard time seeing how different this drink is to the original cocktail, which was around at least 40 years before Jerry worked as a bartender. Regardless, I am sure it looked impressive. The most notable thing about the Blue Blazer is that the drink was audaciously lit on fire and poured between two tins. Rodent safety aside, that must have been quite the spectacle as those arched flames reflected off the sparkles on Jerry’s diamond crusted lapel. Don’t get me wrong I am not necessarily calling the guy a phony. Or a liar. Or a thief. But all this does make me wonder… Did Jerry Thomas really master the craft of the cocktail enough to brand him the Father of Mixology? Or did the man’s thirst for attention make him more of a Father of Flair?

**What do you think?  Am I being too harsh on the celebrated Jerry Thomas? Did he mean more to the cocktail than I am suggesting? Did you know anything about him before you read this article? I want to know! Share your thoughts in the comment/chat below!