photograph by bruce vanwyngarden
Sara Patterson serves a New York Sour.
First things first: Sara Patterson owns the second-largest bur oak tree in the state of Missouri. She’s also a witty conversationalist and the bartender at Cafe 1912, Glen and Martha Hays’ cozy Midtown bistro. Those two things say a lot about her. Mainly that she’s Memphis and she’s country. It’s a rural/urban dichotomy that has shaped her life.
“I was born in Memphis,” she says. “Then, when I was three, my parents divorced and I moved to the woods in southern Missouri with my mother. She remarried and I grew up on 40 acres near a small town called Alton. It was never a stable farm, but we were always growing something. I also spent a lot of weekends in Memphis, where my dad lived. I have really great parents and a mixed family of four siblings.”
After graduating from Alton High School in 2005 (as class president), Patterson obtained an associate’s degree from Missouri State, then attended Arkansas State for a while, before finding herself at a crossroads.
“Good service is supposed to look effortless. Customers aren’t supposed to see all the work that goes into it. They might not notice that someone is setting up fresh glasses behind me while I’m talking to them, but I couldn’t do the job without the support of really great co-workers.” — Sara Patterson
“My mom had moved back to Memphis,” she says, “so in 2010, I did too. My first job was at a beer cart on Beale Street. Then I worked at Texas Roadhouse in Southaven for six years, then in an office for a while, before deciding I couldn’t handle that. One day, I was talking to one of my neighbors who worked at Cafe 1912 and asked if they had any openings, and before long, I was working here. That was in 2016.”
Nine years later, Patterson feels at home. “Somehow, Glen and Martha have cultivated this particular brand of magic here,” she says. “We’re the lucky ones who get to see that and kind of melt into it. It’s hard to explain. Nothing much changes. The French posters are still in the same place after 23 years. It’s nostalgic and it’s comforting and it’s community-driven. Customers always know someone when they come in. It’s a great place to hide from the world outside and connect with people and reset.”
photograph by bruce vanwyngarden
Patterson has taken some cues from the late restaurateur and writer Anthony Bourdain: “There was a passion that came out in his writing,” she says. “It made you understand what this job is about. Good service is supposed to look effortless. Customers aren’t supposed to see all the work that goes into it. They might not notice that someone is setting up fresh glasses behind me while I’m talking to them, but I couldn’t do the job without the support of really great co-workers. And I like how Bourdain talks about creating a place where people can come and feel comfortable, where they know things are going to be consistent. I’ve seen proposals in here, breakups; I’ve been to weddings and funerals. This work and these people become part of your heart.”
Reader, I confess that Cafe 1912 is a restaurant I’ve frequented with friends and family — some now gone — for all of its 23 years, so Patterson and I go back a ways. On this day, she knows I’m there to interview her for this column and that she’ll be making me a drink, so she’s prepared.
“Would you like to try a New York Sour?” she says.
“I’ve never had one, but I would probably like it. Tell me about it.”
“It’s got Wild Turkey 101, lemon, simple syrup, and a Malbec float,” she says. “I think it’s going to be a good transition drink from summer to fall.”
Unsurprisingly, it is a good cocktail, with a rosy hint of August that lingers and a whiskey base that says winter is coming. Sort of like sangria, with a kick. Recommended.
Now, about that bur oak tree …
“I’d been looking for years around Alton to buy some land, potentially to improve and flip it,” Patterson says. “One day, I found four-and-a-half acres on a beautiful stretch of highway, five miles from Mammoth Springs, and bought it. When I was walking the land, I discovered this 300-year-old bur oak in the middle of the property. It’s 17 feet around with a 100-foot canopy spread, and I later learned that it was the second-biggest bur oak in the state. So the land I was going to flip, well, now I’m in love with that tree.”
Cafe 1912, 959 South Cooper St.
