Love the Bloody Caesar? Your bartender sure doesn’t. Patrons get a pass for ordering this labour-intensive cocktail at bleary brunch time, but requests made during dinner are generally met with behind-the-back eye-rolling. The reason for this animosity is one part laziness and one part snobbery. The Caesar is obvious, kind of tacky, and—if made with the commercial brands of clam-and-tomato juice—a big old mess of high-fructose corn syrup, sodium, and carbs. Sure, the Caesar may be a contender for our national drink, but craft cocktail–makers tend not to be moved by the patriotic spirit. Walter would like to change that.