Salt Lake Cocktails 

Page 7 of 7

• Thomas Crone
• Pour a pint— or get clever with a shot at The Spot.

Smurfin' Around
Going off menu and finding home at The Spot.
By Thomas Crone

In another lifetime—well, OK, less than 10 years ago—I co-owned and operated a bar in St. Louis called the Tick Tock Tavern. It had sat empty for 20 years between drinks being served, the dated bottles on the back bar coated in a nice, li'l sheath of dust, circa 1994-2014.

Already an old-school bar by look and feel, we rightly kept that vibe and over the next few years, people would come in with a host of descriptors. Used to the point of annoyance was a version of "it looks like my (uncle's, aunt's, grandfather's, grandmother's) basement bar." A compliment, even if heard too, too many times.

A better response came with nods to other cities. So when someone would refer to the place as reminding them of a "Pittsburgh bar" or a "Milwaukee bar," it meant that the authenticity of their hometown favorites were coming through. So, the highest compliment I can pay to The Spot (900 S. Main, SLC) is that it reminds me of a St. Louis bar.

That could be due to the AC/DC pouring out of the sound system, the half-shell booths, the clank of billiards, the affordable pricing or the low-key ambiance. It could be all of those things blended together. The Spot's a big-city, relaxed, even stylish place in its own inimitable way.

In a city that has sometimes (if not often) sacrificed a sense of history for The Next and The New, The Spot seems to live and breathe in another decade, in the best way possible. That includes the scrolling specials menu above the backbar, advertising shots like the Purple Nurple in bold, bright colors.

The bartender at The Spot on every one of our half-dozen visits since January has been Jumper, whose evocative, singular name we've never inquired about further despite a great, great wish to do so. Jumper's quick to recognize regulars, even those who log time only once every three weeks or so. If you're among that number, you get a nod, a smile, some friendly words and, if hungry, a series of paper boats of chex mix, which somehow just tastes better at The Spot.

Asked one evening if The Spot offered canned seltzers, Jumper immediately noted that they didn't, but that some soda water and any of the myriad schnapps bottles on the backbar could be combined for the seltzer of your dreams. And after finally sampling the Purple Nurple—after all those signage teases—it seemed time to order a Smurf shot.

Jumper called up some recipes for Smurf shots on her phone, noting that there are an abundance of variations: the Bloody Smurf, the Electric Smurf, the Papa Smurf and the Horny Smurf, among others.

Digging deep into my tired brain, I suggested a Smurf with vodka and the essential blue curacao, thinking that some triple sec might be good, too; this turned out to be a near-version of the Drunken Smurf. And Jumper helpfully suggested that some pineapple juice might be good, a nod to the more-popular, rum-based Smurfs. "Sure," we said, "add pineapple!"

Maybe some magic remains inside The Spot from back in the days when it was known as The Age of Aquarius. (You can still see some hippie bar design elements if you scan hard enough.) But our Random Smurfs tasted good, even if the first sip tasted a tad metallic, as if a quarter had sunk to the bottom of our blue-glowing shot glasses.

But as we decided to sip these, rather than shoot 'em, the alchemy of mixing alcohols began to work. The sweetness of the pineapple and triple sec started to amplify, the vodka's bite began to recede. This Collectively Agreed Upon Smurf was good, real good, even if served alongside a not-exactly-complementary Boddington's Pub Ale.

Hey, sometimes you just feel like going off-script. And at The Spot, Jumper's got a phone full of internet recipes and zero ego. If it's not on that scroller menu, she'll look up a drink, modify it, make it the exact thing you want. In the span of a single order, she might even become your favorite bartender in town.

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