Journey
My first workplace
(May 2022 — December 2022)
In May 2022 I had just finished college and was picking up the occasional shift as a loader. I never thought I'd end up behind a bar... It happened quite spontaneously: a friend suggested I take his place at the Organic Life cafe as a sort of barista, and I agreed.
I was a complete zero at it — scared, confused, and slow to pick things up. Thanks to Katya for her patience; she was my colleague and my first mentor. She taught me how to dial in the grind, steam milk, and nail the coffee basics. That café is where I learned to make a decent cup of coffee. I even got to the point of doing basic latte art.
It was a vegan café with a focus on healthy eating — besides coffee, smoothies and detoxes were big sellers. Even working there, I never felt like a bartender. Something between a barista and a glorified drink pourer. I wasn't planning on leaving — everything was slow, no real growth, but STABLE, and that was enough for me at the time. Then the end of the year rolled around, and it all changed. Vegan desserts and smoothies were still pretty niche back then, sales were low, and the owner decided to pull the plug — giving everyone a lovely New Year's gift: unemployment.
So there we were, hit with this "wonderful" news that we needed to find new jobs fast. Through our administrator's connections, we got in touch with the bar manager of another place — and they happened to be looking for bartenders. He agreed to take me and Katya on as bar trainees.
(January 2023 — August 2023)
My second workplace
The year ended, and there I was, already interning at Julien (Julien Gastro Bistrot). It was a festive restaurant — that is how they positioned themselves, and that is exactly how it was for the guests: a high level of service, interesting and beautiful food plating, all waiters speaking with a French accent, and the cuisine being a mix between Moldovan and French. In the evening, the venue's format changed. They played a speech from the chef, and from a restaurant with good food and cool service, the place turned into a party spot: DJs came in, everyone danced, and there was a ton of people.
(In the photo is Yura, my ex-colleague and current friend — but he's not the one I'm talking about in the story below.)
And somewhere in this party scene, I show up, completely green: "Hello, I can make you a cappuccino." I had to learn fast, memorising the spirits, cocktails, and various new techniques.
There was a funny moment on one of my first shifts. I still didn't really know where things were kept, and they tell me: "Today you are working the party, and paired up with a bartender who has only worked the day shift." In other words, it was a new thing for the both of us. What was happening on that shift was... something else. I had never experienced being so swamped at that time, and neither had my partner, even though it wasn't his first month working at Julien. All in all, it was quite something.
(On the left is Adrian, the bar manager — on the right is Nikolya, he's the one who invited me to another place.)
Julien had a lot of great people, some of whom became close friends — we're still in touch. There was bar manager Adrian, who taught me a lot and was just genuinely great to work with. We have plenty of good stories together.
(These are the waitstaff — they're the ones who created that great atmosphere.)
Time passed, I got my cocktails and spirits down, and started feeling a lot more comfortable. But, as we know, all good things come to an end, and that is what happened here. Internal problems started to surface, and it was getting harder and harder for me... At some point, the work with suppliers fell on me, along with a lot of shifts. I slowly started to burn out, and so, at a certain moment I said: "Guys, I am leaving." At that point, I already knew where I was going; a fired waiter was working at a new venue and invited me to join him.
So I worked my notice period and left peacefully. By the way, I was one of the few who left without a scandal and of my own free will.
To sum up how I grew during my time at Julien: I learned how to make cocktails (more or less); I figured out how to work with suppliers; I learned a bit about alcohol; and by that time, I had already started to like what I was doing.
September 2023 — July 2024
My third workplace
I went to the interview with Yakov, he was the bar manager at Dayzi, passed it without any major issues, and soon started my internship. Dayzi was something between a cafe and a restaurant: the food was up to par, and that is exactly where I met one of the most brilliant chefs, Leonid. I didn't recognise his skills immediately and didn't understand his approach to managing the kitchen. He is a peculiar person, but over time I realised this man is a genius.
Dayzi — a venue that earned very well during the terrace opening season. That is exactly when I learnt to work on several fronts at once. You can see the bar in the photo above, it is divided into approximate zones: the coffee and tea zone, the cocktail zone, the beer zone, and the fresh juice zone. And during busy moments, you need to balance between all the zones simultaneously.
Everything was stable at Dayzi, and little bothered me. I was studying spirits, wine and beer, and was already thoroughly immersing myself in the subject.
I want to say a special thank you to Yakov: he is an old-school bartender and wasn't into new techniques at that time, but when it came to the basics of alcohol, he trained me very well. Plus, he is simply a very good person!
(That was City Day — a brutal shift.)
During my time working at Dayzi, I improved my knowledge regarding alcohol and enhanced my service behind the bar, applying the knowledge from Julien. Dayzi had a contact bar counter, which was new to me.
And here was the turning point: towards the end of my work at Dayzi, I started actively experimenting with drinks; I took an interest in new techniques that I hadn't applied up to that time.
But here two generations clashed, the new and the old school. And I felt that it was time for me to change something and move on, to learn new things, to grow.
Right around this time, my friend Yura (the one with the drawn-on moustache and unibrow) tells me that a certain cocktail bar is looking for a bartender.
It was one of the coolest cocktail bars in Chișinău, and it remains so even now.
(And that's where two different worlds met.)
I was genuinely scared — afraid I didn't know enough, that I wouldn't be able to cut it, but I pulled myself together and wrote to the bar manager of Casaroz (Casaroz Bar), Dima. We met with him and his teammate Tolya, talked it through, and soon I started my traineeship. At that point I was juggling two jobs, and for some time I was still finishing my shifts at Dayzi.
July 2024 — January 2026
My fourth workplace
This is where the most interesting part of the journey begins. Casaroz is a cocktail bar with a fully contact bar counter, which focuses on signature, authentic and unusual cocktails, and a cosy and pleasant atmosphere.
Since opening, only two bartenders had worked at this venue, Dima and Tolya, plus one barback. They were looking for replacements because they decided to open their own bar — it has been open for a long time now, it is Bar 27. Danu and I were supposed to be their replacements. At that time, Danu was working at Covor (Covor Bar) and was looking for a new place.
(Here I was charging the cream whipper — and didn't release all the nitrogen first.)
The traineeship started with the guys showing us how and what they made — various new techniques. For me, it was a new world: I was learning what milk washing and fat washing were, how to make different foams for cocktails and so on — it was fascinating.
A huge amount of pressure fell on Danu and me: Casaroz was a very popular and well-known bar, we needed to keep the cocktails at the same level, at the very least.
When our traineeship ended, the guys left for their project, and the reins passed to us.
In parallel, I was diligently filling all the gaps in my knowledge and skills: I read a lot, tried to apply the knowledge in practice and often turned to more experienced guys for advice.
(This was a cocktail inspired by Vincent van Gogh.)
Casaroz provided huge room for experiments and freedom of action. We were always trying to make something new, something unusual, interesting. There were successful experiments, there were less successful ones, but regardless of the outcome — it was experience, and any experience is extremely important and valuable, provided you draw conclusions from it, of course.
I tried not to miss any masterclasses, I went and expanded my knowledge. While I worked there, I felt a responsibility: I didn't want to lose face in front of a guest who would ask me about gin or rum, or about anything at all — a good bartender must be prepared. I studied, and read more and more.
(This is us at a lecture in Greece, at Athens Bar Show — that's Dima and Tolya next to me.)
I want to talk about service separately. It's not enough to just be good at cocktails and know the basics of spirits — a guest should leave you with a pleasant feeling inside, their evening should become better: that is what we stand behind the bar for. Here I learnt to understand guests better, to understand what they want, to be more attentive and responsive.
During my time working at Casaroz, I gained quite a few guests who come specifically to me, to drink my cocktails and the vermouth I made myself, — that is worth a lot.
Also, during my time there I met a lot of people — interesting and such diverse people always came to the bar. One evening, a high-ranking official was celebrating their birthday with us, and the President of Moldova, Maia Sandu, came to visit — I was surprised then. :) At Casaroz I met Xenia, my wife: she was my guest, I made her various twists on the classics, and even named some cocktails after her. And while I was still working at the bar, we managed to get married. This is another point towards the fact that you need to be attentive to your guests — who knows how it will all end. :)
(My staff shirt, with my favourite cocktail on it.)
Nia and I started thinking about opening our own venue — this was still during my time working at Casaroz.
We were thinking through the venue's concept, its idea, making a business plan, looking for a venue for a long time, searching for an investor. And then the moment came: we found a space and decided to work on our project more thoroughly. I informed the guys that I was planning to open my own bar, worked through January, and left.
(December — February)
An attempt to open our own place
As I have already said, we spent a long time looking for a good location that would also fit the concept, and as soon as we found it — we rented it so as not to lose it. It was a historical building from 1861, it fitted perfectly into our idea. The venue we were planning to open was called History CBC — Cafe, Bar, Community. We wanted to focus on the history of Moldova, and Chișinău in particular. We had a very ambitious idea: besides the bar, we wanted to create a historical community, we planned to collaborate with museums and theatres, create exclusive events, exhibitions, and so much more.
We had already registered the firm, hired an accountant and auditors, and started full-scale work with the paperwork to reclassify this space from residential to commercial — it is not a fast process. And then, sometime around January, we lost our main investor, and we had to start looking for another: we held meetings with so many people, wrote to a lot of people, made calls, searched and searched — yet we could not find a replacement. All this time searching, we were losing our own money. We found ourselves in a rather unpleasant situation. I didn't think we would lose an investor with whom everything had been agreed.
We were spending a ton of money and trying our hardest to find ways to return it and attract a new investor. By that point, we had found another partner to work on the project, but even the three of us couldn't manage to attract investments. Time was running out: if the commercialisation process went into full swing, there would be no turning back — such was our agreement with the landlady. We already had to convince her to let us open a bar in this historical building, and she agreed because she genuinely loved our business plan. Then came the turning point: my wife and I decided to fly to Cyprus for a few days to clear our heads. While we were there, we honestly discussed how things stood and the position we were in. We had to make a decision: continue losing money and hope to find an investor, or shut down the project and accept all the losses we had already incurred. By the end of the conversation, we had our answer: we are closing the project.