Chef George Krause at Doe's Eat Place

George Krause is a bookworm. He’s a scientist. He’s an occasional sommelier. He’s a chef. He’s also the authoritative bartender that regularly draws a crowd into “Crowntown,” the bar at Doe’s Eat Place of Baton Rouge that makes a roaring trade from Crown Royal’s shared colors with the LSU Tigers. 

But Crowntown is not just for sports fans (or the carnivores after Doe’s hand-cut steaks). It’s for those drinkers and diners out to be catered to in Krause’s ostensibly ornery way. “It’s not my job to give you what you want,” insisted Krause, “it’s to give you what you need.” 

I’ve sat at the bar many a time in the three years since I first encountered Krause and Doe’s. I’ve learned decades of cocktail history, begged Krause (I must lapse into familiarity, as you too will soon, and call him “George”) to share the secrets of his applewood bitters, and, on a recent afternoon, had him elaborate on his craft. Find excerpts from my conversation with the inimitable George below.

On his roles as executive chef and head bartender:

GK: My job at Doe’s is to create things for people to consume, create an environment for them to be happy in, and make sure that the flavors work together to make everybody as happy as possible, whether it’s having the right steaks, doing a piece of fish with the right butter, to the proper herbs, to mixing the right balance of drinks, syrups, spirits. Picking out the perfect wine depending on what the food is. It’s all one job. My job is to create a complete experience, however that may be.

On playing “cocktail roulette” with customers:

GK: The questions always start the same. What spirits do you like? What spirits can you not stand? People who tend to like brown liquor are always like, “I like scotch. I like bourbon. I like Irish whisky, and I like rye.” What can’t you stand? “I can’t stand tequila and gin.” So you can tolerate rum and vodka. “Yes.” So that gives me an idea of where back here [he motions to the bar] to start. I’ve got a huge list of cocktails in my head; and by playing, basically, “Guess Who,” I can start knocking down—no gin, no tequila, all right, these are all out. Do you like sweet? Do you like it sour? Do you like it bitter? Do you like it very floral?

OK, what type of sweet do you like? Well, based on what you’ve told me, I guarantee you one of these four or five will make you happy. I make it—”You’re right, that’s perfect!” Cool. The next one, I make it a little bit more risky. I’ve made you one or two that you really like, so the next one I might make with one of the spirits you can tolerate but don’t necessarily like. Later’s when I hit you with the gin, the tequila. You make something similar to what you’ve already made, but now you’ve made it with gin. It’s like, “Oh, this is great.” So you do like gin, you just don’t know how to drink it.

Usually the second visit is like, “All right, you’ve got me now. I’m interested to see what you do next.”They’re wondering if I can do it again. You know you have them for life when they come in for the third time, slap their hands on the bar, and say, “Roulette.” I probably have close to a hundred customers who don’t even order drinks any more. 

On the secrets behind his success:

GK: I don’t really have any secrets. You can find the books I’ve read. The only secret I keep is probably my proportions for my gomme syrup, and that’s because I was always told to keep them a secret and it’s worked really well for me. I’ve got a couple of people in town who have attempted to duplicate it and gotten close, but no one’s gotten it yet. My Old Fashioned—I can write the recipe down for you, and it’ll come out close every time. But there are little things that without years of experience, you don’t get! 

On his current “clear cocktails” menu:

GK: Once you figure out how to make the margarita clear, the Tom Collins and the daiquiri—they’re all very similar, you just have minor changes. A bartender I know came here and said, “Why don’t you take a real challenge? Make a real cocktail clear.” Someone else said, “Yeah, try to make a bloody Mary clear.” I spent about two-and-a-half months doing it. And I can make a clear bloody Mary. The only thing you’ll see on it is the fresh cracked pepper as it falls, because you can’t duplicate that spice. If you want one, I’ll make you one. But I need a full week’s notice and it’ll cost you $85 up-front. Can it be done? Yes. Is it a showpiece? By God, yes. Because I will never keep [the ingredients] together to do it. Not one person has taken me up on it yet. 

On his own place in cocktail history:

GK: My cocktails are either old school so they’re already written about, or the stuff I’m doing is so far out there that people will never, ever see it. Clear bloody Mary. Nobody’s ever gonna see that. That’s the craziest drink you could probably come up with right now. Viscosity, everything’s the same. It’s a bloody Mary, you can just look through it. That’s nerdy beyond all get out. My Ramos Gin Fizz I can hold upside down. It’s gimmicky, but there’s science behind it. That’s the only thing I can think of—if I’m ever going to stick around in some kind of cocktail book, which I seriously doubt, it will be because of a technique that I have developed or will.

On career:

GK: I actually went to school for computer and electrical engineering. I was going to be a computer programmer. Both bartending and cooking apply the same things that my computer engineering degrees would have, except I’d be in an office by myself. A lot. I’m an extrovert, as big as you can get. So I chose the one where I could be myself. Be loud, obnoxious. And still have people like me for some reason. Usually it’s booze.

Doe’s Eat Place of Baton Rouge
 3723 Government Street
 doesbatonrouge.com