Corey Pierce

As any seasoned veteran of Calgary's local music scene can attest, the city's full-throttle summer concert slate has a tendency to lead to multi-day late-night benders, frequently leaving revellers with what can only be called the “festival hangover.” So, when I was approached by Fast Forward Weekly to write a story about the search for the city's best Bloody Caesar — a well-known morning-after cure — which would involve hopping from bar to bar on the Sunday following the raucous five-day extravaganza that was Sled Island 2009, I jumped at the opportunity.

Adding to my enthusiasm was the fact that earlier this year, there was a cheeky celebration of the cocktail's 40th birthday at the Calgary Inn (now the Westin) on 4th Avenue SW. It was invented there by bartender Walter Chell, who wanted to complement the strong tomato and seafood flavours of the hotel’s new Italian restaurant. With its innovative addition of clam juice to the existing formula of the Bloody Mary, the Caesar was such a success that it created a market overnight for salty-meets-sweet Mott's Clamato, a product that would previously have been unthinkable. Providing opportunities for bartenders to experiment with spicy and savory flavours and a whole new world of garnishes, the Caesar quickly became one of the nation's cocktails of choice.

It was Sunday at 9 p.m. when I hit the town with my loyal (read: sober) chauffeur, so my quest hit something of a snag: apparently neither of us have done much bar-hopping on Sunday nights before, because if we had, we would have realized that most downtown bars aren't open then. Go figure! In any case, I did manage to knock back a few specimens and I was able to draw on my previous Caesar experience, but it should be obvious that this quest was hardly as exhaustive as I would have liked. So, if you're reading this and thinking “The city should know about my Caesar, it's bloody legendary,” drop me a line in the Comments section of this story and let me know: With any luck, this will kick-start a long-running online series. One where I drink lots of Caesars.

The Pragmatist: Pre-mixed Caesar in a can from Mott's

Before heading out, I was having dinner at my parents’ place and my dear mother happened to have a canned Caesar on-hand. She claimed it was a leftover from one of Dad's golf excursions, but I suspect she had it stashed in the fridge to assuage post-Hen-party hangovers.

The can definitely contained a Caesar, but it needed a lot of dressing up to get to a drinkable state, in terms of both flavour and accoutrement. Fortunately, my folks had the necessary implements handy and after adding a generous dollop of Tabasco, a few added drops of Worcestershire sauce, a lime wedge and a celery stick, I had a drinkable beverage in my hand. I think I could have salted the rim, but after all that work I didn't have the patience.

Verdict: At the end of the day, it'll need tarting up anyways, so you may as well just make your own.

The Original: Liquid Lounge at the Westin Hotel

Our first stop was the birthplace of the cocktail, in a manner of speaking. When Chell made his invention 40 years ago, it was at the once-venerable Owl's Nest, which has since closed and given way to a Keg. Sigh. However, the Westin does have a lobby bar that includes a plaque honouring the invention, so we took a seat and ordered our drinks.

Arriving with generous celery sticks and large, juicy slices of lemon and lime perched on an expertly salted rim, the beverage inspired instant shame for my earlier foray into canned abomination. But with my first sip: devastation. There was no zip, no punch, no body, no excitement. I don't know if there's a technical term for “watered down,” so I'll just leave it at that. Perhaps it was wrong to expect anything other than a by-the-book Caesar, but that's most certainly what we got.

Verdict: Unless you want to pay $7.50 for a wedding-quality Caesar, go elsewhere.

The Surprise: James Joyce Pub

This is where the bottom fell out. It was just before 10 p.m., the Sunday sun still high in the sky, but we ended up walking away from no fewer than five establishments. From seafood joints (because of the clam connection) to cocktail bars (because it's a cocktail), nothing was open. We appeared to be out of luck. Part of me wanted to get a bit indignant about “yet another Calgary disappointment,” but I think I was just upset at myself for dropping the ball. Seriously folks, who goes out for cocktails two hours before bedtime on a Sunday?

In any case, before heading home defeated, we decided to give it a go at the one bar where we found an open door, the James Joyce, which prides itself as an authentic Irish Pub. Would they even agree to make such a base concoction as a Caesar? Imagine my surprise when the drink arrived and it was an improvement in every area where the Westin had fallen flat! Instead of being thin and watered down, it had a firm body and reeked most satisfyingly of vodka and clam. While it hardly strayed from the original recipe, adding only a crisp pickled green bean for garnish, it was barely recognizable as the same drink I had quaffed earlier.

Verdict: Near-perfect execution of the traditional Caesar.

The Unopened Door: The Unicorn Pub

I could not in good faith write this article without mentioning The Unicorn. While I wasn't able to enjoy one of their Caesars on the official trip, I have drank them on at least a dozen occasions and I feel completely comfortable saying they are the best in town. The key here is a departure from the traditional ingredient list: While the Joyce's offering is an excellent implementation of the original recipe, the Unicorn's Caesar menu (yes, there is a Caesar menu) revels in its deviation from the norm. Considering the vast arsenal of hot sauces and horseradish at their disposal, if you do happen to order a Caesar “spicy,” don't be surprised if the bartender retorts with “What kind of spicy?”

Verdict: They should move the plaque from the Westin to the Unicorn.