[ Artist / Within ] Inside America's first bitters-based bar, AJ talks about his unexpected path into bartending

Photography by me

I am always blown away by how successful my friends are, especially when most of the time, it’s by accident or completely unplanned. I’m usually in a parallel path alongside their journeys, seldom finding a moment to contemplate their overall growth. That is, until I sit down with one of them in one of the most prestigious bars in New York asking, how did you get here eight years later?

For as long as I’ve known AJ, he’s always displayed a laissez-faire attitude in life, not because he expects things to come easily to him but because he takes life as it comes to him, and then makes the most of it. Bartending is no exception. I’ve watched him begin his cocktailing career by exploring the niche world of bars and bartenders, diving head first with no prior experience, then finding himself winning scholarships around the world, deepening his already-extensive knowledge.

Despite his subdued speech (a running joke in our group), AJ is a great conversationalist. Some of my most prominent memories of our friendship were when we’d visit bars throughout New York and brood over Old Fashioned’s about life, music, our fears, our glories, our curiosities. As unexpected as his career into bartending was, in retrospect, it is actually very befitting for the kind of person AJ is.

In this interview, AJ emphasizes a lot about how extremely important it is for him to tend (no pun intended) to each guest as though they were the only one in the room. That, to me, is what makes the whole bartending industry so enduring because it’s bartenders like him who genuinely care about the craft, creating ephemeral interactions that leave a lasting impression on people. Maybe it’s not intended to change someone’s life but I know he is always aiming to change people’s days, and for the better.

Okay so bartending, where did that come from?

Yeah, so everyone has a different story. For me personally, as I finished school for engineering, got an internship, was all fine with the idea and happy to have the opportunity because my grades sucked. I stopped [the internship] for a little bit because I wasn't the happiest to do it. And then I had a break, and fell into [bartending] by accident, essentially.

Luckily enough, a cocktail bar opened up very near me, two blocks away from my house I was currently staying at the time, and I started as a server. Fast forward, someone just told me to bartend as an opportunity. I was very down so I got trained up.

Did you ever think you were even remotely interested in bartending?

The joke when people used to ask, “What are you going to do for your retirement job — your old man job?” I wanted to be the old man behind the bar. But it is funny though, I still hated — or I didn't hate it — but I used to be scared of talking to people. I was scared of sitting in a bar. I was scared of talking to servers. So being a server forced me to talk to people but I was terrible at first, and believe it or not, I mumbled more back then than I do now. And bartending? How do I say it — it sounds cheesy spoken [out loud] but I swear to you, I absolutely fell [in love with] the whole process of this.

What about the process?

I mean, there was a time in our lives where we were all concerned about shit that's happening — where we were going and what was going to happen in the future. I was staying in my mom's basement and I was too overwhelmed with everything post-college. Then bartending was this simple act — you do what's in front of you. It's only about what's in front of you and it's only about affecting anyone's night, positively, by the thing that you're going to do next. Everything else outside of the room is taken away except for what's just happening right now. So that's what became addicting about it. Again, as cheesy as it is, [of course] I love a good drink and the whole thing about how drinks bring people together, which is true and that's great, but for me, it was about that process. And then it was also, “Oh, shit, I can live off of this.” That was also very nice.

From the outside, it looks like a seamless path for you, though. You're very quiet about your [bartending] journey but every time I blink, you're leveling up again.

It’s very much, “one breath at a time” sort of thing for me. I'm so thankful to have stumbled upon this, to the point where it has literally changed my life. Obviously, it's given me everything that I have now, the opportunities that I've had, and it's helping me meet people literally around the world. It’s all kind of unreal but it's nothing that I like to boast about.

Do you realize the magnitude of your journey, just how much you’ve grown?

Absolutely. It took some time, but even if I were to stop bartending for whatever reason, I wouldn't have traded this for anything. It's helped me be a person.

How did it help you “be a person”?

Outside of living, outside of people — like stop being afraid of strangers. I think, we've all had this addiction to the idea of what makes people, people. And with bars, in general, people naturally come in, especially working in New York City, from all over [the world]. So you get all these mini conversations with anybody, and whether it be what brought 'em here on the day or where they came from in the world, then you can even get as deep as the conversations warrant.

I remember being at Cowan's Public, and starting to work there for the first time, I was so taken aback by the idea that there's no TV in here. That for some reason, at first, terrified me. It was this quest to be like, “Oh, let's all just look at this [TV] while there's a silence in the room right now.” Then fast forward to rooms [in bars] where there's nothing. It's a tiny room. Everyone could see everybody, and you can hide from nothing except what you're drinking and the people next to you. You see [that scenario] every time you go to a bar, whether you're bartending or you go to a bar, you meet people all the time. People's lives potentially change because of that.

That feels very exposed.

That's an interesting way to put it. Why exposed?

Well, if I were to put myself in your shoes, especially as someone who wasn't initially comfortable with being in the light, being social, being extroverted, but now you're putting yourself in a position where you are literally the person people are observing, creating their drinks in front of them, and socializing with them.

Yeah, I will think back to a time again where I was just afraid of talking to anybody but now whenever it's this room, this bar, [Amor Y Amargo] specifically, that it’s become my absolute favorite part of being a bartender. Especially being in the tiniest bar ever.

Why? 

It's the idea that whoever's bartending at the time has control of the whole room, if that makes sense. Whether it be the music or that you see everyone who walks in, you serve everyone that comes in here, and you say bye to everyone from top to bottom. You're in control of someone's entire experience. And something about that is what makes it my favorite part of being in here. This room [at Amor Y Amargo], specifically, was started on the notion of being very niche, very specific and minimalistic. The reason I love this bar, even before I worked here — and I'm always thankful to work here — is that all their drinks look very straightforward. Literally booze in the glass, maybe ice and maybe a peel.

Do you feel like because of that dynamic it helps you stay true to the integrity of the craft?

I will be the first person to say that I do not know everything. I am not the knowledgeable history nerd who knows where things were made, who makes what, but selfishly, every drink that's made [at Amor Y Amargo] is 99% of what I like to drink. Everything is stirred, boozy, somewhere bittersweet. But because of that, and also because we have one glass of whatever, there's nothing to hide behind it. Especially after being in Oaxaca and having met some people who make certain [mezcal] bottles, there's always a story behind it — stories that have been emotional. That is the same idea with this bar. Some of these bottles have hundreds of years of history, so it's something where I’ve appreciated the idea that someone created a bar, wanted to highlight that fact, and hide behind nothing.

How did you grow to have that appreciation? At what point did you develop your own specific cocktail preferences and interests?

It's hard. I always relate it to food when I talk to people about this, because you do it by trying a bunch of different stuff, and then you find out what you like. Similar to drinks. For me personally, when I got into drinks or drinking in general, the boring story is that I didn't really like beer. It just made me full. Then there’s this idea that alcohol is literal poison — the joke is that my career is slowly poisoning people for a living — so it was the idea that if I'm going to drink alcohol, I want to know what I'm getting into and I didn't have to hide behind anything. I got into drinking whiskey by itself, and then fell into this rabbit hole of just spirit-forward drinks, in general. It was a lot of really interesting stuff with a lot of interesting stories — the weirder, the better, the more bitter, the better. And it was just a rabbit hole from there.


 
We’re all just people. The drinks come second.
 

So your journey is so interesting. I feel like you kind of just stumble upon it and things happen.

Yeah, that's fair I mean, I just started saying yes to stuff. I just started being down. I said yes to bartending. I started saying yes to opportunities in bartending, which has taken me everywhere, thankfully. So, yeah, it was kind of like, just have a conversation with anybody and then we're going to see what happens. That generally has been my mentality and that has not let me down so far. That's how I ended up [bartending] here. I was at a crossroads before working in the city, and being that [Amor Y Amargo] is my favorite bar, it was kind of like, yeah, fuck it. Just try to work where you want to work.

I want to learn more about your own creative process with your bartending business, If By Cocktails. My favorite part about how you work is that you add a personal and emotional aspect to it that a lot of people wouldn't even think about when it comes to drinking culture.

When I started out, I learned about something called “Dealer’s Choice,” which is a pretty popular way of saying Bartender’s Choice, etc. I love that for many reasons, other than it being fun, obviously. Bartending is such an intimidating world, especially at place like this where you walk into a room and you don't know shit. You look at a menu, you don't know any of the words, you don't any of the ingredients. So for me, I take it very personally to try to guide people very carefully and be very open about making cocktails, and not be pretentious. It's my biggest pet peeve with some bartenders when they tell you, this is the best drink and you've got to drink it. I try to be very gentle with people and be like, “This drink is whatever” or “It's fucking weird.”

If you talk about what you usually like, I'll try to make something for you. So "[If By Cocktails] kind of started with that mentality. And then from there, it simplified into like, “Give me a spirit you like. Give me three adjectives. Anything you want, even how you're feeling.” It was years of that, years of a lot of making bad drinks to try to get a grasp of what people like.

At the end of the day, I feel very lucky to be bartending because as opposed to cooking, you are in front of a person. You literally talk to the person you're making something for.

So there’s the accessibility aspect of bartending but there’s also that bartender-to-consumer relationship…

The preferred term for the industry is “guest.” [laughs at Mai] But yeah, that [bartender-to-guest relationship] became my favorite part of it, especially with people who were always down to get weird and unpretentious about it. My favorite quote about drinking — it's from the whiskey tribe and it's about whiskey — but generally, it's “The best drink is the one you like and the way you like to drink it.” It’s [emphasizing that] I hate the pretentious notion of like, “Oh a martini is this and you have to drink it this way or that way.” If someone wants a sweet fucking drink, give them a sweet fucking drink. If someone's favorite drink is an LIT, whatever, they want to drink that. Who am I to tell them what's good or not? And if someone has questions, I'm going to do my best to help them or to give them something that they're going to like. It's not to tell them what they like or what’s actually good.

That's something that's very important to me, especially when it comes to the whole business aspect of it, where If By Cocktails was built off of that. Whether it be for an occasion, or for someone specific, or a time in someone's life, especially during the pandemic, it was about “You tell me what you're in the mood for, how you've been feeling, and I’ll try to match that.”

There were so many sad stories. There were also a lot of uplifting stuff, too. People got surprisingly very personal, and that’s something usual for some people to get into when they come to bars. Again, people come to bars, whether it be for a first date or anniversary or to celebrate something or to brood, which I love to do, [coming to bars is] really for anything. A lot of different reasons. A lot of different moods.

What has that process taught you?

That we're all just people. The drinks come second.

I like that you preserved the bartender-guest interaction because, especially during the pandemic, we lost that essence of why people go to bars. A lot of people go to a bar just to have that company, just to have someone to listen to them. So you almost kept that sort of relationship, but in a long distance format, because people are sharing something with you very personal and while you're not playing therapist, you do offer that assurance of, “I hear you, and this is what I can do for you, which is make you a personalized drink that offers some semblance of support.” Do you plan on keeping that up?

I mean, now that I'm working in person, it's really whenever someone asks. Thankfully I still make personalized cocktails [through If By Cocktails] every now and then, but mostly, I do it behind the bar now.


If someone’s walking through the door and I’m busy, no matter what, I’m going to acknowledge them. I’m going to welcome them into the bar, let them know that I see them and I’m going to get to them. That is important more than anything else.

When you hear what someone is telling you and what they're feeling, how do you translate that into a drink?

For me personally, it's a lot of prefacing. I mean, if I'm talking about just working here at [Amor Y Amargo], which is very specific, it's all booze, somewhat bitters. Some people don't know what bitters are and they don't even know what amaro is so it's a lot of the same script over and over and over again, which is totally fine because that's how this bar operates.

But how does that translate? It's always the conversation. You can tell when someone's slowly getting confused and a little scared so for me, I break it usually with, “It’s a weird place but if you're down, I'm down. We can get weird but if you hate it, I will throw it out.” But when it comes to specifically a drink, it always starts out with, what do they usually drink? If they like tequila or they like whiskey, how would they drink that in the past? It's a lot of prefacing, especially with the drinks here, I try to preface with, “This drink is kind of like this, but a lot boozier, a lot weirder.”

Okay, so building off of what they already are familiar with?

Yes, it's very introductory. And then it goes all the way for people who've been here before. They could say, “I want the most bitter thing you fucking have. I want the weirdest thing you have. I don't care what else is in it.” So there’s a lot of stuff on the spectrum [for everyone]. A lot of it is introductory, but people sometimes can say, “I see that bottle. I want this.” And they don't even care what.

When it comes to moods, people have some fun with it, depending on the night. Some people will ask for something seductive. Some people will say, “My friend's about to get married tomorrow. I need six of those, please.” And then it’s whatever I want to do with that.

Have you heard feedback from people who have received their drinks and said it matched what they were looking for or what they were thinking about?

Actually, yeah. Especially when I'm training bartenders and talk about the idea of reading people and not being selfish with what you like, but trying to more so read them, figuring out what you think they’ll like and what they're prepared for. For instance, a really simplified way of putting it is, if I'm just meeting a person and they're open to trying something [new], I'll start more with a safe rum, probably one removed from maybe something they've had before, and then I'll get weirder and weirder, more out there from there.

These past couple weeks have been weird because I have a drink on the menu [now], but I've gotten two hugs specifically over that drink. The first person was a regular, who's very, very nice, and has told me that the first time she had it, she was emotional. She was about to tear up. Another time, there was someone who came into this bar for this first time and hadn’t had bitters before. We had a conversation about it, I made him a drink, and he said, “I'm not going to lie to you, this was my favorite drink of the year.”

I think more than anything else, it's the interactions and the experience someone has with [the drink]. I think, now I realize that that is more important than a good drink. You could have a good drink anywhere. If you were surrounded by shitty people, and the bartender is shitty, whatever, it happens, but then you're not going to go back.

When I'm behind the bar, when I'm training other people, every little thing matters. If someone's walking through the door and I'm busy, no matter what, I'm going to acknowledge them. I'm going to welcome them into the bar, let them know that I see them and I'm going to get to them. That is important more than anything else. We're not in the kitchen, we're out here. People could see us working our asses off.

Where do you think you are in your bartending journey?

That's a good question. I will start by saying I love this job. I'm very thankful for having this job. Granted every single industry, it has its negatives. More so for me, obviously, this job takes nights and weekends so the entire goal this year is to find a way to do what I love that's sustainable in both time and money.

How do you see yourself addressing that?

Anything else past this [bartending] point, it's either you go into management or open your own business or your own bar. I'm not going to give bartending up. I still want to do this but it's finding a way to make more time for other things in my life.

Well, how do you stay curious and stay learning within your industry?

It’s attempting to have a very humble mentality in the way that I don't know everything, and I absolutely will never know everything. I respond with two things:

One of my favorite pieces of advice I ever got as a bartender, “Give a shit.” What I mean by that is, no matter if I made a thousand fucking Negronis, I'm still going to try to make this Negroni the best I possibly can make it. It doesn’t how many years I've worked, I will always try to have the mentality that I don't know shit about things, especially when it comes to how specific this stuff is. Whenever new bottles come in constantly, there's always a story behind those bottles, always a story behind the producer. You could learn about this stuff like nonstop. There's always possibly a different way you could do something, to try different things, try this and that. So granted, I think it's fairly easy to learn to keep an open mind about stuff, as long as one does keep an open mind.

And secondly, keep saying yes to more opportunities.

Are you ever afraid you're going to lose that spark with bartending?

No, absolutely not. No because it's the people part of the industry, too. The drinks are one thing, but there's always going to be something to learn about why someone is doing anything on either side of the bar. Each bartender has a different story. Each person who comes in has a different story. It's constantly different every single fucking time.

What do you think consistently brings you back to bartending?

I always thank the bartending industry in general because it really helped me get out of certain holes. I've had shitty days that have actually been made better by me coming into work even when I didn't want to. It's addicting in that way. It gets you out of your head. It’s the idea that nothing else fucking matters, even in my life, other than getting through work and caring about the interaction in front of me, whatever that is, there's always something to do.


Some days you’ll absolutely be like, “Man, that was fucking shitty.” And other days it’s like, “Man, I’m never going to forget that person, ever.” Something I’ve discovered is that I very much still have a huge curiosity for people and very empathetic to really anybody coming in.

Eight years into the industry, and now you're approaching a point where you're considering a transition. What have you been reflecting on the most lately?

It’s funny, my transition is coming at the same time that [Amor Y Amargo] is also transitioning. It's really hard to explain what this room means to people. Everything I've been explaining up until now — what I really value about bartending, what I like about bartending, why I come back to bartending — is really emphasized at the core of this specific room and this bar, in general.

I think about everything — how I fell into bartending by accident, everything I've gotten to do because of this, the places I've seen, and the connections I’ve made. With bartenders, whenever you meet anyone from the industry, there's always this kind of like, “Oh, we have an understanding that maybe someone else wouldn't get.”

When I was in Japan, a very core memory of mine was meeting bartenders who don't really speak English very well, but it was an interaction that I'll never forget because they had this [practice] where you sign a room that's signed by a bunch of other industry people. It's something about having a kind of community, no matter where you really go.

What have you discovered the most about yourself?

So Sother Teague, the man behind Amor Y Amargo, says, “The hardest thing about being a bartender is, not the hours, not the work, not the physical labor, but it’s not being jaded.”

“Not being jaded.” What does that mean?

There’s another quote he says that's the same sentence but said two different ways: “I throw a party everyday, and I throw a party everyday.” It’s the idea that you throw a party everyday you’re excited about because you get to throw a party everyday, and the other side of it is you throw a party everyday and, you’re fucking exhausted.

The idea of being in New York, especially as a bartender, can wear some people down. Bartending is one of those industries where you constantly see either the best of people or sometimes you see the worst of people. Some days you'll absolutely be like, “Man, that was fucking shitty.” And other days it’s like, “Man, I'm never going to forget that person, ever.” Something I've discovered is that I very much still have a huge curiosity for people and very empathetic to really anybody coming in. I think I've always been that way, but it's now exercising that in a greater scale.

The idea behind my business’s name, If By Cocktails, was inspired by [Soggy Sweat]’s quote about, if by this whiskey, or drinking in general, it’s to forget your troubles and sorrows, if only for a moment. It’s the whole idea of being in the moment, and that’s what I chose to focus on.

Your whole journey of being a bartender is simply an extension of yourself.

Yeah, exactly. It's so personal. Every bartender's different, which is great. It's such a personal thing for everybody because you're put on this stage, and with all the different kinds of bars, it's all different. You can get super culinary and be very artistic with your craft. It could be very clean, very prim, very proper. You could also just be in a fucking dive bar, cursing people out but it's the same respect across the industry.

Do you ever feel like you're in competition with other bartenders?

It’s funny because there are literal [bartending] competitions, but I've never been a competitive person myself. Everything I feel about bartending, is just like, fuck it. We're just going to do this. Whatever happens, happens. I think that's a very good mentality to have both as a business and as a bar, and then also as an individual. You're only in control of what you put out, and then whoever appreciates it, whoever comes in, whoever's down, they're going to be down. So for me, that's how I take competitions, if that makes sense. The only way I get through is, “I'm going to make this and whatever happens, happens.” If I thought about anything outside of that, I would die inside.

What do you mean? 

Because the moment you start thinking about what someone else thinks, if someone's going to like something, what is this going to say about me, or what is this person going to think about me because of this or that thing — you can go down that rabbit hole forever. But if I just focus on the day, I'm just going to try to make this [drink] well, and then we'll go for it.

When I started out bartending, I messed [something] up, it was the tiniest thing, but it gutted me for the next few days. I could not stop thinking about it. But then eventually it became the mentality that, nothing fucking matters [like that].

Are there moments where you feel super proud of what you've done? Have you ever said to yourself, “Wow, I'm really good at bartending”?

I try to, every now and then. There are definitely days where I attempt to acknowledge, “You know what? Today was a good reminder that I'm good at my job.” At the very least, I'm good at my job, and that I also really enjoy doing my job. Of course, there are moments when you're bartending in another country just because you fucking mix liquids together sometimes — those are moments where it's like, “Yeah, I cannot complain about anything.”


This is a story from my ongoing artist portrait series and editorial campaign entitled Artist/Within. It is a collection of conversations I’ve captured with the artists in my life, revealing the delicate balance they maintain between their daily routines and the pursuit of their artistic passions.

Read other conversations within the collection here.