This past weekend, the United States Bartenders Guild held its annual cocktail competition in Long Beach, California. Local bartender Peter Vestinos of Sepia was among those battling it out for the title, and penned the following blow-by-blow blog post for a first-person account of the event through the eyes of a competitor.

A bottle of Cazadores anejo tequila, two thirds full, appeared next to the fruit, cutting boards and juices on our prep table. It showed up around the same time the heads of the United States Bartenders Guild stepped into our area. They knew our nerves were twisted, mainly because as former competitors, they had all been there themselves. And so they provided the best cure they could. Glasses were swiped from a nearby banquet cart and filled high with the tequila. We, the competitors—Carlos Yturria from Northern California, Juan Alvarez from Southern California, Anthony Alba of Nevada and myself for Illinois—stood with the big guys of the cocktail world: Livio Lauro, president of the USBG, Dave NePove “Mr. Mojito” and Francesco LaFranconi. We clinked our glasses in a toast, the tequila warmed and eased me but still, I got back to my pacing.

This would be my third competition in as many weeks and I was tired, frustrated and just wanted it to be over. I failed to place in the Moet-Hennessey competition in Chicago two weeks ago. I placed second in an Averna competition a few days earlier in Miami. Now I was in Long Beach for the National Cocktail Competition, part of the USBG’s three-day 60th anniversary party. The room was full of veteran bartenders dressed proudly in their USBG red blazesr, lapels crammed with glittering commemorative pins. About 40 or so people would attend the competition; not the largest number I had competed against before but certainly one of the most prestigious.

The road to this competition starts at the local level. Each chapter (Illinois, Northern California, Southern California, Nevada and New York) holds a regional. The five regional winners move on to the National Competition and the winner heads to Puerto Rico for the World Cocktail Competition to face competitors from 80 countries around the world. (New York was unable to send its regional representative so there would be only four of us this year.)

To be honest, my confidence was low. I had a lot working against me. First, a large part of this competition is technical performance, the preparation and presentation, with rules that are fairly specific. Guidelines dictate how long a competitor has to prep, how glassware and shakers should be chilled, how the cocktail should be shaken, poured, garnished, presented, etc. Many small steps, many chances for errors. Secondly, this year’s regional competition for Illinois was a write-in; we didn’t hold a physical competition. I created my cocktail very quickly in my head, and submitted it just before deadline, hence the name “The Just-in-time Cocktail.” I never even tried it until a few days before Nationals and it wasn’t working out the way I had hoped. I wasn’t confident in the drink. And finally, adding to my pressure, I was following in Debbi Peek’s footsteps. Last year she won the Chicago regional competition, then the national competition and went on to compete in Taiwan. Now I needed to follow up and make sure everyone knew Chicago would again provide worthy competition. And I felt like I was on a losing streak.

Back to the event: We were given 15 minutes to create our garnishes, pour juices, fold our towels, carefully place everything on one small tray and make sure we hadn’t forgotten anything. During the competition, we’d have to prepare four identical cocktails within six minutes, not a long time considering the complexity of these cocktails. A sweat immediately broke out across Juan Alvarez’s brow when he got the news that he was going first. But he completed his prep in plenty of time, and was escorted to the banquet space. I slid into the back of the room to watch. Juan was visibly terrified, staring forward, and taking short breaths while judges and emcees buzzed around him. He looked like he was standing on the receiving end of a fire squad. The audience counted down from three and the USBG National Competition had begun.

It wasn’t a comfortable performance for Juan and I felt for him—there’s a lot of pressure up there with everyone staring at your every movement, cameras flashing, plus the room was becoming unbearably hot. His cocktail was called an “Orange Julius,” and was made with Absolut Vanilla, Orangcello, Cointreau and heavy cream. He finished in his allowed six minutes and no one was happier than Juan that it was over.

I headed back to the prep area, passing Anthony Alba of Nevada on his way into the room to compete. I wished him luck and dove into my 15 minute prep. I built my garnish—lemon and lime wheels woven through a large wooden skewer with a basil leaf crowning the top. I wouldn’t call it my best garnish but I needed something I knew I could do quickly. I was told I was up and I entered the main room, carefully balancing the heavy tray stacked with three cocktail shakers, glassware, muddlers, strainers, juices, garnish and towels. I set out my essentials just as I had practiced all morning in my hotel, then looked down and noticed I was missing the key ingredient: lemon curd. I left it chilling on the prep table. I asked if I could go get it, and I’m still not sure if they actually told me I could, but I ran back and grabbed it. The audience counted me in and I tried to let my body remember the physical movements as I had practiced: Ice the shakers, dump the ice, re-ice, grapefruit juice, basil leaves, muddle…no thinking, just letting my hands do the work.

And it was working, to my surprise. The emcee picked up on the multiple steps and explained to the audience that I had a muddle involved (lots of opportunity for drips and lost points) and that I was creating a two stage drink, meaning it’s layered. (The top layer is a pomegranate foam I whip up in the shaker and spoon on.) A lot of time is needed and there are many steps where I can screw up. I heard a few “wows” when I added the second layer and a few more when I added the garnish. I raised the drink signaling that I was finished. I was seven seconds over, but was willing to sacrifice a lost point for time to ensure I didn’t miss any critical steps.

I felt good, surprisingly good. The drink looked good, it was complicated and the audience was into it. As I stood at the back of the room before the judging, a few people complimented me on my technical performance. And then I heard the dreaded comment, “I think your drink is…interesting.” Not good. I turned and saw the drinks had been lined up for everyone to taste and I headed to mine first. Too acidic. The pomegranate liqueur had not drizzled down as it had done in my practice drinks to sweeten out the acidity of the lemon curd. It was interesting. It wasn’t good. I wanted to go back to my hotel room.

But I couldn’t—it was time to announce a winner. We all shook hands and wished each other luck. Then I heard “And our third runner up: Peter Vestinos.” Fourth place. I was shocked. I received my framed certificate and smiled for the cameras. Carlos took third, Juan second, first place Anthony. More photos with competitors, judges, guild members…the photos took forever and I just wanted to leave.

I’ve won before, but not at Nationals. Anthony had a solid drink and deserved to win. The USBG is here to promote the profession and craft of bartending, and we’re there to learn from each other and to support each other. It was an honor to be a part of…yadda yadda yadda…now where’s that tequila?

Look for Peter Vestinos’s new weekly column "Mixed greens" (debuting in the May 22 issue of TOC) in which he’ll hit the city’s best farmers’ markets then offer advice on how to turn seasonal produce into stellar summer cocktails.