A cocktail heady with history at The Public House

If Karl Dornemann had his druthers, he'd add a rollicking speakeasy to his restaurant repertoire.

Patrons would whisper the password, slip through a concealed entrance, descend a narrow staircase and find at the foot of it a vested barkeep, polishing glasses and sliding classic cocktails across the rail.

Because to Dornemann, history matters.

He's part-owner of Still, a basement bistro in Olde Towne Portsmouth with a speakeasy feel. Dornemann's newest venture, The Public House, a "gastropub" in Norfolk's Ghent, honors the past in a different way.

He and his partners salvaged old lockers from Maury High School, circa 1911, just down the street and installed them as cigar lockers in the smoking room. The tile floors, exposed brick walls and stamped tin ceiling remain intact, the latter delaying the eatery's opening and costing Dornemann and his partners dearly.

This reverence for the past extends behind the gleaming wood bar, where a row of silvery cylinders contain Dornemann's homemade bitters.

"People don't need to be introduced to sweet drinks," said Dornemann, whose official title is executive bar chef. He'd rather introduce them to the past.

In the early 1800s, the dawn of the cocktail, bitters were an essential element, aromatic elixirs that separated cocktails from the ales and sacks and grogs of the day.

Originally hailed as medicinals, bitters are spirits infused with roots, herbs and spices. Dornemann's two-month-long process starts with high-octane rum, anise, coriander, cinnamon and other spices. The concoction is aged in fat glass jars, which get a vigorous shake each day. It's steeped, strained and muddled "to squeeze out every ounce of flavor," Dornemann said. There's some burned sugar involved, too.

Once it's been decanted into the silvery atomizers, scant sprays of the stuff render riffs on cocktail classics such as the Negroni, the Old Fashioned and the Manhattan, which is transformed into the bar's signature drink, the Norfolkhattan, created to mark The Public House's July opening.

The Norfolkhattan builds on a foundation of 2.5 ounces of Woodford Reserve Bourbon, Dornemann's choice because it's distilled partly with rye, the Manhattan's original main ingredient. The sweet vermouth is swapped out for 1.5 ounces of Root, a liqueur that harkens to Colonial times when root tea was made from birch bark, sarsaparilla and sassafras. It's finished with a few sprays of Dornemann's orange bitters.

All that gets shaken with a few old-school ice cubes - perfectly square, transparent as diamonds and hammer hard - made in a very expensive ice machine. Ice matters, too.

Then it's strained into a martini glass, a stemmed maraschino cherry bobbing at the base of the "v" and a fine, caramel-colored foam floating on top.

Ardent fans of sweet 'tinis shouldn't be fooled by the glass. This is a serious sipping drink. Ardent fans of the Manhattan should give it a go.

The Woodford Reserve, with its hit of rye, is less sweet than bourbon and has more bite. The Root adds herbaceous complexity - think sassafras and birch beer. Together with the orange bitters, they form a drink that's far more heady and aromatic than the norm.

When ordering, take Dornemann's advice and take it straight up for maximum enjoyment. Inhale deeply. Sip. Savor. Repeat.

Lorraine Eaton, lorraine.eaton@pilotonline.com