THE whole aesthetic — some might say shtick — of Apothéke, the haute bar sequestered in a mysterious time warp of Chinatown, was pharmaceutical from the moment it opened. Bartender-slash-alchemists in white lab coats decocted botanical-and-herb-infused libations from great laboratory beakers. On certain evenings, the main medicine man himself, Albert Trummer, stood in the back bar lined with classic Latin-labeled druggist vials and soothed grateful patrons with curative elixirs and stress-relievers, even as he mesmerized them with his mixological rituals.
Albert Trummer, in 2008, burned off some of the alcohol in absinthe. Yet in the past few months, sensational headlines and court documents have painted this sanctuary at 9 Doyers Street as a lurid demimonde of leaping flames, physical confrontation and imprisonment. A temporary restraining order forbids Mr. Trummer from conducting his signature cocktail chemistry in the bar. He faces criminal charges and possible jail time for attempted arson as well as a civil lawsuit, filed by a co-owner and managing partner, Heather Tierney, charging “repeated, unlawful and dangerous actions and conduct.”
Furthermore, Ms. Tierney’s brother Christopher, another partner, faces a year in prison on charges that he assaulted Mr. Trummer, who has sued the Tierneys for imprisoning him in the antediluvian Apothéke sub-basement — a reputed opium den long ago — and for inflicting pain, “emotional distress, shock, fright and apprehension” in a dispute involving rights to Apothéke’s trademark.
What could cause three owners of a lucrative and respected cocktail haunt to turn on each other this way? One explanation is Mr. Trummer’s penchant for creating pyrotechnic displays by lighting alcohol on fire while mixing.