Pham Tien Tiep: Cocktails Are Stories
Hanoi is twists and turns
Speaking to us in the lounge of Press Club (12 Ly Dao Thanh, Hanoi), Tiếp welcomed us with his bright eyes and friendly smile, didn’t shy away from sharing his past.
The young man from Hưng Yên dropped out of school at the age of 15 because of his family’s financial situation. Joining the stampede of people trying to change their lives in the capital, Tiếp started out in construction camps as a porter and cook. Like many from the countryside trying to make it in the city, he switched jobs continuously, from construction worker, to shoe shiner and waiter.
“After trying out different professions, I came to a realization that I couldn’t keep doing laboring jobs if I wanted my big break. So I dedicated all my time into learning how to sew. I also would write songs for student tenants in my neighborhood because I had a strong passion for music,” Tiếp said.
Luck truly does come to you when you least expect it: the vocational school for orphans, in which Tiếp was studying, asked him to write a song for their director’s birthday. Tiếp accepted, and his life took another turn.
The director, touched by Tiếp’s musical talents, offered him a music course. In return, he’d have to work as a waiter for an Old Quarter bar to support his studies. It was at this bar where the young man found his great
passion for mixology. Looking at bartenders mixing alcohol, performing fancy tricks while talking to foreign customers sparked a fire in Tiếp.
“I decided right then that mixology was to be my career. I stopped my music studies to learn more about mixology. Back then, there were no professional mixology classes, I could only learn by watching my seniors. The rest of the time, I focused on learning English to better communicate
with customers.”
With no professional education available, Tiếp studied by asking bartenders at his workplace about cocktails: what are the ingredients to this
concoction, how do you make that one… The bartenders were first taken aback by this one curious kid who kept staring at their every move, incessantly asking questions.
Tiếp laughed, “My skin grew thicker and I stopped being shy about it. There was really no other way if you wanted to learn mixology. I guess the seniors were moved by my dedication and so became more open with me. Back then, there were less bars in the Old Quarter, so after my shift I wandered to other bars to observe them, compare their methods and recipes. I was even confident enough to introduce myself as an aspiring bartender.”
Tiếp went on to spend his hard-earned money to buy ingredients and equipment to practice mixing. The trial and error process continued tirelessly – until the mixologist in him was born.
“Back then, there were no professional mixology classes, I could only learn by watching my seniors”
Success is risky business
Having the same starting point in the mixology career as hundreds of other bartenders, Tiếp worked his way to the next level with his passion for discovery, for the unique and the fearless.
2012, The Diageo Reserve World Class Vietnam contest,
Wide-eyed amongst dozens of renowned mixologist, Tiếp had nothing beside his determination. Yet, he decided that this was his only chance to change his life.
“I registered for the contest and then was immediately discouraged by the strange topic. The challenge was to create a cocktail inspired by a famous diva. Luckily, a week before the contest, Metropole hotel found a wartime bunker under their swimming pool – right where I was working. There was a signature of Joan Baez, who was famous for both her musical works and her anti-Vietnam War activism. I was ecstatic because this was exactly the idea that I had been looking for.”
“The iron set on fire represented bombs and gunfire. And the alcohol was Joan Baez’s voice”
The concept stayed on the young bartender’s mind even when he was eating his breakfast phở. Another spark of idea came to mind, and he decided to bring the Vietnamese flavor of Phở into his cocktail. His coworkers flinched at the idea because they were afraid that the Phở flavors would not go well with alcohol, but Tiếp pushed on.
The Phở Cocktail had an impressive equipment, designed by Tiếp himself. An iron set with three levels of filtering cups. In each of these cups were the three main spices of phở: cinnamon, star anise, and black cardamom. Tiếp set each of these cup on fire, and proceeded to pour alcohol into the top level. The liquid caught fire, and dripped from top to bottom, taking the spices’ flavors with it. The iron set on fire represented bombs and gunfire. And the alcohol was Joan Baez’s voice.
This intricate cocktail brought him the First Place in the competition, along with great praises from the judges and the audience.
“Joan Baez later read an article about my story and the Phở Cocktail. She then returned to Vietnam to try this cocktail, which was inspired by her own story. This was a validation that not many bartenders get to experience,” Tiếp continued.
The risk proved to have paid off when he received many work offers and teaching offers after the contest.
Currently, Tiếp is a beverage supervisor in a bar at Press Club, and owner of Nê Cocktail Bar where he continues to live his passion and inspires hundreds of his students.
As the last words for the interview, he told Son Tinh: “I always tell my students that you can only pursue this career with passion and enthusiasm. Don’t just fall for the glitz, the glamour, and temporary interest. As for my future, I will continue to embed more Vietnamese tastes and stories into my cocktail creations.”
Cocktails are stories
The flavors of worker-class, affordable dishes would now appear in shiny, upscale bars, standing alongside expensive alcohols on the menu, thanks to Tiếp’ generation of mixologists.
The aforementioned Phở Cocktail is a story of war and how art prevailed through it all. It tastes exactly like your everyday phở, the flavors of lime, chili, cinnamon, star anise and black cardamom all infused into one harmonious drink.
Similarly, every cocktail creation from Tiếp seems to carry some sort of stories.
Another of such concoctions is the Don’t Eat Me cocktail. It’s flavour is that of dipping sauce for snails, containing lemongrass, chili, Phú Quốc fish sauce and gin. The story behind it is of a poor boy trying to make a living in a bustling city, bunking in a poor neighborhood under the old Long Biên bridge. He passed a steamed snail vendor every day when he came back home from work. The smell of lemongrass, chili, and fish sauce always pulled him in, reminding him of his home in the countryside. He made a promise to himself to work even harder and save up enough money to enjoy the steamed snails. Every time he ate them, he could picture himself at home, surrounded by his loved ones.
The snail dipping sauce went from the dark, damp bridge underpass to a high-end cocktail, now sitting inside the luxurious Press Club in central Hanoi.
This story, without coincidence, is the story of mixologist Phạm Tiến Tiếp himself.
Stories