I was in Louisville recently for the St. James Court Art Show. This is my favorite art show because of the location and also because of the great art and artists in attendance. If you know me, I enjoy space and time to walk around, shop and talk with the artists. On the first day, the crowd was small which allowed me to do that. The second day was a different story. After a while, I wanted to get away from the crowd, so I decided to visit the Left Field Lounge.- a bar that I went to in the late 1990’s when I lived in the area. It’s in the Highlands area but more of a neighborhood bar instead of a destination place. I wanted to see if it was as I remembered it and if they still served a certain drink.

It was a beautiful, fall afternoon and I was able to park right at the front door, which stood wide open. As I walked into the bar, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darker interior after being outside all day. As my eyes adjusted, it felt like I stepped back in time. It had much the same look and feel that I remembered. I stopped to take it all in but was quickly snapped out of my nostalgia..

The bartender, Becca. and a guy at the bar, gave me a hearty welcome. I slid into a seat at the bar and the bartender came over, introduced herself and asked what she could get me. I said, “I’d like The Devil.”

I could tell that she had no idea what I was talking about. The guy at the bar said that he’s never heard of a drink called that and he’s been going there for a few years. An older guy at the end of the bar said he’s heard about it but has never seen or tried it. The bartender said she’d make it if I could tell her what it was made of.

I explained that I didn’t know the ingredients, but I did remember that it was a strong, flaming drink. It was topped off by “fuel” that was kept in an Aunt Jemima’s bottle behind the bar. The labels had been peeled off the bottle which gave it a mysterious feel. I once asked what was in it and a bartender told me it was simply, “the secret ingredient.”

Things were different in the 90’s. Drinking something and not knowing all the ingredients didn’t bother anyone back then.

I explained that while the drink was good, the presentation was the best part of it. It was something you didn’t forget. I’d never seen it before going to the Left Field and I haven’t seen it anywhere since.

I leaned into the bar and began to share the tale of the Devil. I looked around and realized that I had the undivided attention of everyone at the bar.

Cue the time traveling sound effects and go back with me to 1998/1999.

Bartender: “Hi. What can I get for you?”
Corey: “I’d like The Devil.”
Bartender: He solemnly nodded his head. “Have you had The Devil before?”
Me: “No, I haven’t.”
Bartender: “I see. Well, it’s a flaming drink and there are safety precautions that need to be followed when I make it.”
Corey: “Okay. What do I have to do?”
I acted casual but wondered what kind of protocols need to be followed just to serve a drink.
Step 1: The bartender reaches under the bar and pulls out a fireman’s helmet. “Put this on”
I put the helmet on, looked at myself in the mirror behind the bar and winked for good measure.
Step 2: The bartender puts a small trash can on the bar. “That’s in case you can’t handle your liquor.”
I chuckled. He clearly didn’t know me.
Step 3: The bartender pulled out a fire extinguisher and set it on the bar. “What’s that for,” I asked. “That’s in case things get out of control,” he replied.
I laughed, but there’s a part of me that wondered what I had gotten myself into.
Step 4: The bartender gave me a straw and explained that it’s my “pitchfork.”
“When I light the drink, have your pitchfork ready. Drop it in in quickly and suck the drink up. Don’t do it too fast or you’ll suck the flames into your throat. If you’re too slow, the flames will melt the pitchfork into the drink and ruin it.”
Wait, what?!
Bartender: “You ready?”
Me: “Yep. Let’s do this.”
He lit a match and leaned back, like he was scared to light it. Nice show, I thought to myself. There’s no way the flame would be big enough to worry about. Right? Has anyone ever knocked it over? Is that why the fire extinguisher is there?
He lit the drink, and I had no time to think. I dropped my pitchfork in and drank it all. When it was over, the flame danced on the remnants of alcohol in an otherwise empty glass.

The warmth of the drink went all the way down to my stomach. Wow! That was wild. I was a fan.

I liked the drink, but I was won over by the experience – the show, of it all.

After hearing this, everyone wanted to see it made again. The bartender looked for the recipe online with mixed results. She decided to text the current owner to see if she knew of the drink and how to make it. The owner responded that she knew of it, but they weren’t making it anymore. Becca texted her again to let her know that I was there asking if I could get one. It had been 25 years since I’d had one, afterall.

The owner again said no.

Becca wasn’t giving up yet. She called the owner to explain the situation and to tried to sway her into letting her do it. She really wanted to make this for me, and she wanted to experience it too.
Once again, the response was an emphatic no. “Right, I know you said that, but he hasn’t been here in 25 years.” One last “no” and that was it.

Was there a story about why they don’t make it anymore? I don’t know. Maybe someone was drunk and knocked the drink over and caught the bar on fire. It could be that someone sucked the flame into their throat and threatened a lawsuit. There may have been a time that someone freaked out about the “secret ingredient” that is kept in the old Aunt Jemima bottle sitting alongside the other spirits behind the bar. I may never know. I would like to get the story about why it’s no longer served though.

The guy sitting closest to me said that since I couldn’t have The Devil, maybe I should try the current signature drink. He said it’s a Cherry Bomb, and it’s not that good. It’s a simple drink of cherry vodka and Red Bull. I agreed, that it didn’t sound good but since I couldn’t get the Devil, I’d try one. Somehow that turned into me buying a round of Cherry Bombs for everyone. I shrugged and agreed, since I’d already entertained the bar for a bit with my tales.

I wish I could tell you that it was better than I expected, but it tasted like cherry flavored cough syrup. I finished it but will never have another one.

The times change, and things get left behind. I wanted one more dance before the flames, but The Left Field Lounge no longer serves the Devil.