Browse Cocktail Recipes by Spirit

Sam Ross, Milk & Honey, early 2000s. Honey, ginger, and a peated float that carried it round the world.

An invention of legendary London bartender Dick Bradsell, in his attempt to create a truly British drink.

It's gin. It's tonic. What more were you expecting?

A rum and coke becomes a cocktail the moment you use a real lime.

Three ingredients, nowhere to hide. The test of whether you can balance a sour.

Nothing like the sugary version most bars pour. It's a rum sour with almond behind it.

Mint, lime and rum. Makes a hot afternoon bearable.

The only cocktail that doubles as breakfast. Season it like you'd season soup.

Mocked for a decade because of a TV show. It's a well-built sour and always was.

A sour dressed up with a sugar rim. Sweet, tart, and not sorry about it.

The copper mug isn't a gimmick: it frosts instantly and keeps the drink brutally cold.

Grapefruit and salt. Seasoning belongs in drinks too.

The Negroni's older, gentler parent, and a much better afternoon drink.

A sugar cube, bitters, and patience while the bubbles do the work.

South America's grape brandy under a cap of foam, finished with bitters on top.

Cognac's answer to the daiquiri, and the template most modern sours copy.

Rye and Cognac sharing the base, which almost nothing else does.

The template every stirred, spirit-forward drink is measured against.

A Negroni that swapped gin for bourbon, and got warmer for it.

Spirit, sugar, water, bitters. The definition of a cocktail, and still the best argument for one.

Bourbon, sugar and a hedge of mint over crushed ice. Built for heat.

The sour that teaches the ratio. Egg white is optional, but ask first. Not everyone wants it.

A whiskey sour with honey standing in for sugar. Three ingredients, no technique to speak of.

The Boulevardier's drier cousin: rye and dry vermouth in place of bourbon and sweet.

New Orleans in a glass. The absinthe never goes in the drink: it coats the glass and sits in the nose.

The crème de violette is what makes it gray-blue and what makes it worth finding.

Gin sour, lengthened with champagne. Named for a field gun, which tells you how it lands.

Gin and lime, sweetened just enough to stop it biting.

Gin, lime, soda, no sugar. One of the few classics that's genuinely dry.

Four equal parts, one of them Chartreuse. It should not work as well as it does.

Stirred is proper, but cold is the only thing that actually matters.

A Martini with a pickled onion. The brine is the whole point.

Equal parts, no measuring skill required, and bitter in the way that makes you want another.

More salad than cocktail, and better for it. Ginger beer over ginger ale, every time.

A gin sour with mint through it. The Fizz version is the same drink, lengthened with soda.

Agave instead of triple sec. Cleaner, and it tastes more like the tequila you paid for.

Tequila, cassis and ginger beer. Also excellent with mezcal.

Equal parts, and one of the very few classics that puts orange juice to good use.

A Manhattan made with Scotch. Same rules, smokier answer.

Two ingredients, no technique. The Drambuie does all the work.

Apple brandy and grenadine. Worth making your own grenadine for.

Gin, vodka and Lillet. Bond ordered it shaken, which is why everyone else does.

Cachaça, lime and sugar, muddled in the glass. Brazil's national drink.

A Daiquiri with grapefruit and maraschino, and no sugar at all.

Gin, chocolate and cream in equal thirds. The brandy version came later and took the name.

Pineapple juice in a rye cocktail. Trust the round table on this one.

Gin, Aperol, and three slices of cucumber. Bitter and cooling at the same time.

A daiquiri with grenadine. A court once ruled it had to be made with Bacardi.

Cranberry and pineapple over vodka or rum.

Gin, lemon, honey. Born to make Prohibition gin drinkable, kept for being good.

Peach puree and something sparkling. Venice in a flute, and it takes a minute.

A Sidecar that added rum. Exactly as forward as the name suggests.

Gin, vermouth, Chartreuse in equal parts. French for jewel, and the colors are the point.

A Martini with orange juice, which used to be scandalous. It works.

Less a recipe than a shape: a spirit, some citrus, ginger ale or beer on top.

A spiced-rum Sidecar out of San Francisco. Cinnamon sugar on the rim, always.

Vodka and cranberry. Nobody is fooled and nobody minds.

Raspberry, lemon, and egg white in gin. Pink, and far more serious than it looks.

Works with brandy, whiskey or dark rum. Pick whichever is open.

Equal parts gin, Lillet Blanc, lemon and Cointreau over absinthe.

The drink that invented the garnish. That lemon peel lining the glass is the whole idea.

Spirit, citrus, curacao, soda. The template that eventually produced the Margarita.

Dark rum poured over ginger beer, in that order, which is what the name describes. Gosling's hold the trademark, and theirs is the dark rum meant.

Bourbon with curacao and lime. Short, sharp, and gone before the race ends.

Cuban, elegant, and mostly vermouth. Grenadine for color more than sweetness.

A daiquiri with maraschino behind it. Hemingway's bar, though not Hemingway's order.

Three spirits and sherry floated on top. The name is a promise, not a description.

A Manhattan that moved to Brooklyn. Punt e Mes and a teaspoon of Chartreuse.

Two dashes of Fernet in a sweet Martini. Ada Coleman's, and still perfect.

Spirit and ginger ale, and very little else to it.

Whiskey, dark rum or brandy all work. Whatever's nearest the kettle.

Four ounces of rum and a lot of fruit. New Orleans made it for a reason.

Hot coffee, whiskey, and cream floated on top. Never stirred after the cream.

Crème de cassis with white wine poured over. Use sparkling wine instead and it becomes a Kir Royale.

Vodka or rum, cranberry and orange. Hard to get wrong.

Scotch and ginger ale with a lemon wedge. The Highball's more interesting cousin.

Tequila, orange liqueur, lime. Skip the mix and it's one of the great sours.

Rye with Cynar and coffee liqueur. Bitter, dark, and North Beach through and through.

Rum and brandy in small measures. Light enough to have two.

The Martini's ancestor: sweeter, older, and worth meeting in its own right.

Spirit, sugar, and cold milk. Old as the hills and better than it sounds.

Tequila and grapefruit, done properly. Mexico drinks more of these than Margaritas.

Four equal parts, all of them assertive. A modern classic that arrived fully formed.

Gin, orange, lime, two bitters. Named for a colonial club in Rangoon.

Coconut rum and amaretto with two juices. No pretense whatsoever.

Built on a seven-part ratio, with a few drops of gum arabic for body.

One sour, two sweet, three strong, four weak. The old rhyme still works.

Overproof rum hidden in melon and orange juice. Count carefully.

Twelve minutes of shaking for one drink. The texture is why people still do it.

Lime, rum, soda. Nothing sweet in it at all, which is the point.

Vodka, grapefruit, cranberry. Refreshing and unbothered by ambition.

Fussy, fruity, and historic. Raffles Hotel has a lot to answer for.

Wine and soda. It's here because knowing when to make one is a skill.

Rum, lime, ginger ale. The Mamie Taylor's Caribbean sister.

The original, with cassis and soda. Nothing like the orange-and-grenadine version.

A gin sour lengthened with soda and served tall. The template for every Collins since.

Mostly juice, lightly rummed. A long afternoon in a tall glass.

A Boston whiskey sour with orange. Named for a ward that swung an election.

Mint, lemon, whiskey, muddled together. A julep that stopped being precious.

Three rums and a stack of syrups. Traditionally limited to two per customer.

Half tea, half lemonade. Named for a man who ordered it enough times that it stuck.

Cool, clean, and faintly savory with a pinch of salt.

Your own honey-ginger syrup does all the work here. Warm and sharp.

Everything a mojito does except the rum, and it holds up better than you'd expect.

The first cocktail most people ever drink. Real grenadine makes it worth revisiting.

Vinegar-based shrubs give a non-alcoholic drink the backbone booze usually provides.

Ginger beer has enough bite to carry a drink alone. Lean into it.

Bitterness is what makes a spritz feel grown-up, and bitterness doesn't need alcohol.

The original dirty soda, near enough. Swig built a chain on this exact combination.

The flavor every cola already hints at, made explicit.

Sharper than most dirty sodas, and the one to make if cream isn't your thing.

The salt is doing real work here. Without it the caramel just reads as sweet.

Coconut twice over, once fresh and once toasted.

Firmly a dessert. Treat it as one and it's very good.

The one that started the whole Utah soda-shop thing. Coconut and lime cut the prune note.

Raspberry and Dr Pepper is the pairing the soda shops reach for most after coconut.

Both classic Dr Pepper add-ins at once, which is less confused than it sounds.

Darker and less sweet than the cherry version.

The lemon is what makes it read as cheesecake rather than cherry cola.

Autumn in a glass. Best from about September to November.

Exactly what it says. No notes.

A soda-fountain drink from the 1880s, and still the best argument for syrup and soda water.

Lime, soda, a little sugar. The non-alcoholic descendant of the gin rickey, and a Prohibition survivor.

The other half of the classic rickey pair. Sour cherry syrup if you can find it.

Strawberries and coconut, which works far better over soda than it has any right to.

The cinnamon on top is the whole difference between this and a peach soda.

Blueberry needs the lemon. On its own it goes flat and jammy.

Good without cream, better with a splash of coconut cream if it's very hot.

No cream on this one. Dairy flattens the lavender straight out.

A piña colada with the rum taken out and the fizz put in.

Add cream and it becomes strawberries and cream. Both versions are right.

A creamsicle you drink through a straw.

A root beer float without the washing up.

Root beer already tastes faintly of caramel. This leans into it.

Campfire adjacent, and very hard to stop drinking.

Use real maple, and go light. It'll bully the root beer if you let it.

Chocolate and sarsaparilla, which is an old pairing and a good one.

Orange soda and cream. The whole dirty-soda idea in two ingredients.

The creamsicle with a berry underneath it.

Coconut cream rather than dairy, because mango and milk can turn chalky.

Tastes like the sweets. That is entirely the point.

The theme-park frozen drink, in a glass, in about a minute.

Pour the grenadine last and don't stir it. That's where the sunrise comes from.

Raspberry and coconut is the combination the soda shops sell most after the original.

Sharp and very green. Skip the cream on this one.

Two stone fruits and a citrus soda, which is more balanced than it reads.

Dark fruit against pineapple. Odd on paper, good in the glass.

Ginger keeps the peach from going cloying.

Ginger beer rather than ale, and no cream. The grown-up end of this list.

Pear is quiet, so let the vanilla and ginger carry it.

Cranberry juice does the work of a syrup here. Christmas, basically.

Apple, cinnamon and ginger. Best in the months you'd want a pie.

Floral and light. Lychee is worth seeking out for this one alone.

Go very light on the lavender. A quarter ounce is already plenty.

Soda water brings nothing sweet of its own, so the syrup is doing real work. Muddle the cucumber fresh.

Chai syrup carries the spice without brewing anything.

Cinnamon, cream and vanilla soda lands remarkably close to horchata.

Ridiculous on purpose. The almond is what makes it taste like frosting.

Tomato, orange, lime and hot sauce, mixed by the jug. Not a cocktail — it is what you drink after the tequila.

Cola with grenadine in it and a cherry on top. The Shirley Temple's cola half, and the one children actually ask for.

Apple and cranberry under ginger beer. Sharp enough that nobody asks what is in it.

A banana, a peach and orange juice in a blender. Breakfast, in a hurricane glass.

Banana, pineapple and coconut syrup blended smooth. A piña colada with the rum left out — or left in, if you want.

Banana, strawberry, pineapple and coconut, blended and topped with cream. Thick enough to need a spoon at the end.

An opera for the palate, and a decent way to warm up your voice before karaoke night.

Sloe berries, the fruit of the blackthorn shrub, are macerated in gin to provide the crimson color and warm, fruity taste sloe gin is known for.

A tiki drink wearing a gin suit. Eight ingredients, and every one earns its place.

The basil lends a pleasant touch of anise, while the lemon thyme allows the vermouth to articulate a sweet, citric note that complements the gin.

Campari swapped for Fernet-Branca. Bitter, minty and considerably less forgiving.

Floral and herbal all the way through. As pleasant as a greenhouse in the middle of winter.

A cocktail that runs through every register gin has: citrus, floral, spicy, and sweet.

Celery juice and Champagne. Reads like a spa menu, drinks like a proper aperitif.

Cucumber and coconut with a chile burn underneath. The name is not overselling it.

Chinotto adds bitterness, lemon adds lift. A sharper Negroni than the one you know.

Mixed at your table at London's Connaught, where you choose the bitters and the pour comes from a great height. Any bitters you like will do.

Two kinds of basil and pickled jalapeno. Herbal, floral, and quietly hot.

As refreshing as the soup it's named for, and a fair measure of how far the kitchen has crept into the bar.

Bitter tea and grapefruit with something herbal underneath. Track down the electric daisy, because it genuinely buzzes your tongue.

Herb-infused gin with muscat and tea liqueur. The infusion pushes the pine into the background and lets the rest come forward.

A sweet and straightforward drink with a silken texture from the aloe vera.

The fennel comes through far more than the olive oil, which is there for texture rather than flavor.

A refreshing, sweet, and sour drink that will hit the spot when you want dessert, but don’t have room for something heavy.

Twelve basil leaves, muddled hard. Green, sharp, and impossible to drink slowly.

Audrey Saunders built it to convert vodka drinkers to gin. It worked, and the variations never stopped.

Punsch was in everything before Prohibition and in almost nothing after. This is the argument for bringing it back.

Kennedy drank Tanqueray, and this is built around it. Grand Marnier, fino sherry, and a flamed orange peel.

A milk fizz built on plain Gordon’s, which is the house gin for plenty of the world’s best bartenders.

The green notes of the kiwi suit absinthe surprisingly well.

A cocktail inspired by the Negroni Sbagliato, with a floral and fruity finish.

Smoky tea brewed in a coffee siphon. It wants precision and real equipment, and it repays both.

A tropical tea cocktail that you’ll want to drink all summer.

A gin sour that has held its place on the Milk & Honey menu since 2002. Nothing to it, which is the point.

Rothman & Winter is the apricot liqueur worth buying, made from Austrian fruit and it tastes like it.

The sweet sake battles the bitter sharpness of the wasabi tincture to a standstill, and creates a thoroughly enjoyable balance.

Bourbon and gin don't share a glass willingly. Elderflower, jasmine and bay leaf talk them both down.

The vivid green color may be a throwback to an era when cocktails featured sugary, processed ingredients, but in truth the taste is timeless.

Picon Amer is an orange-and-gentian aperitif with a pleasant bitterness that swings from citrus to dark chocolate and coffee.

A brief rest in American white oak gives Spirit Works barrel gin spicy, floral and dark fruit notes.

An easy-to-drink yet complex cocktail that taps into the otherworldly powers palo santo holds. It literally means “holy wood”.

Herbal, sour, and just faintly salty from the Parmesan. A good lead-in to a long dinner.

Yes, goat's milk. Clarify it and you get a punch with more spice and less sugar than you'd expect.

Though named after the queen of the underworld in Greek mythology, this cocktail promises to lift you up, rather than pull you down.

Sumomo plums are usually sold as Japanese plums, Chinese plums, or Asian plums in English-speaking countries.

Martin Miller's gin is shipped to Iceland to be cut with glacial water. Sounds like marketing until you taste it.

A gin distilled with nori and lemongrass. Briny and coastal, and the Collins format keeps it long.

There’s no better way to celebrate the miracle of homemade sorbet.

A serve that shows off maraschino’s talent for binding disparate flavors together.

Small, delicate, and Japanese to the bone. Matcha and Muscat over a gentle gin.

Thoughtful, playful, and straightforward at the same time, which is everything a modern cocktail should be.

Orgeat, pronounced ore-zha. The bottled stuff is sweeter and flatter than anything you'd make yourself.

Everything from the cabbage juice to the gin is there to make the strawberry pop.

A Bee’s Knees with ginger and sarsaparilla worked into the honey. Sharper than the original, and oddly nostalgic.

Most cocktails with a sour profile stop there, but this one has a surprising amount of depth thanks to the presence of Earl Grey in the cordial.

Refreshing, tropical, and floral, this cocktail is a can’t miss in the summertime.

A Martini that took a holiday in Greece. Ouzo rinse, mastiha, no apologies.

Near-equal parts of six things that shouldn't agree. They do.

A fresh, punch-like drink that flirts with becoming a fizz, packed with herbal undertones and a spicy kick.

The Thyme Syrup ties everything together, highlighting the botanicals in the gin and the floral nature of the St-Germain.

The rare cocktail that is best warm, with the blend of cilantro, chili oil, and the botanicals in the gin fusing for an exotic experience.

The bespoke ice is the key to this truly unique twist on the Negroni.

Violette, orgeat, and passion fruit under a cap of foam. Tropical, and built to be looked at.

Bergamot and lavender, bright as a coastline. Tastes healthier than it is.

Ginger liqueur and Grand Marnier bring delicious clarity to the twist on the Negroni.

The pea flower dashed over the top keeps changing the color after the first few sips. The taste is not far behind the spectacle.

Gin, Lillet and orange juice — a Martini that spent the morning at brunch.

A Martini with olive brine stirred through it. Go carefully — too much and it is gone.

Elderflower and strawberry under lavender bubbles. Mostly a texture exercise, and a good one.

Bergamot and elderflower with three dashes of Peychaud's, topped with sparkling wine.

Coconut-fat-washed Campari and pandan. A Negroni that moved to the tropics.

A French 75 rebuilt in Japan, with sparkling sake in place of Champagne.

Pimm's taken seriously, with gin, two bitters, and apple syrup. Summer with a backbone.

Gin chilled to four below and half a teaspoon of vermouth. Temperature is the recipe.

Guava, pineapple, and ginger with a bar spoon of Herbsaint. Tropical with an anise streak.

Mead lengthened with gin and soda.

Gin, apricot and apple, and the gin is only half of it.

Almost neat gin. The maraschino and lemon are measured in quarter-teaspoons.

Gin, two dashes of peach bitters, and mint dropped in whole.

Gin and orange with a teaspoon of Bénédictine. The name is worse than the drink.

Gin, apricot and orange in descending order. The apricot does more than it looks.

Half gin, half dry vermouth, and a quarter-teaspoon each of two things you taste anyway.

A sidecar built on gin. Three ingredients and no room to hide.

A gin sour with soda on top, and no cherry to hide behind.

The Bramble with real blackberries muddled in and soda on top, which makes it a long drink.

Gin and yellow Chartreuse. Nothing sour in it at all, which surprises people.

A dry martini with half a spoon of kümmel, which tastes of caraway and changes everything.

Sloe gin and sweet vermouth, and darker than either sounds.

Gin, grenadine and egg white. The colour is the grenadine and the texture is the egg.

Gin and three dashes of bitters. Naval, and not really pink.

A gin sidecar with egg white, which turns it soft without making it sweet.

Gin and both vermouths in equal thirds. Nothing to measure by eye.

Made for a single night in 1928 and still around, which says something.

Mostly gin, with four things measured in teaspoons doing the rest of the work.

Gin and brandy together, with both vermouths. Named for the New York restaurant.

Two parts gin to one of dry vermouth, with a quarter teaspoon of curaçao. An ancestor of the Martini.

Mostly gin, with a quarter ounce each of apricot and grenadine doing all the colouring.

A Sidecar built on gin instead of brandy, in equal parts spirit and orange liqueur.

A Clover Club with mint on top. The egg white is what makes it worth the trouble.

Gin and orange juice with a tablespoon each of sweet vermouth and triple sec.

A Gin Fizz with a teaspoon of raspberry syrup in it, which is the whole difference.

Gin and sweet vermouth with a dash of bitters. Three things, shaken, done.

Gin and dry vermouth with the sweet vermouth measured in half-teaspoons.

Gin, Scotch and rum in one glass, with cacao and cream to hold them together.

Three to one gin and dry vermouth, with a dash each of bitters and maraschino.

A gin sour with Campari in it, which turns it pink and makes it bitter.

A dry Martini with half a teaspoon of sweet vermouth. That half teaspoon is the drink.

Gin, dry vermouth and Dubonnet in equal thirds. Not the sherry Coronation.

Gin with Dubonnet and a quarter ounce of maraschino. Stirred, not shaken.

Gin with dry vermouth and a full ounce of apricot, sharpened with lemon.

A gin sour with half a teaspoon of white crème de menthe, which is all it needs.

Gin, lime and raspberry lengthened with soda and ginger ale. Long and not very strong.

Gin and pineapple shaken with egg white until it froths. Served long rather than up.

A dry Martini with as much absinthe as vermouth. A New Orleans drink and it tastes it.

Gin and both vermouths with half an ounce of white crème de cacao. Built in the glass.

Equal gin and dry vermouth with half an ounce of cassis. Drier than it sounds.

Gin and sweet vermouth with maraschino and lemon in equal half ounces.

Three to one gin and sweet vermouth, with half an ounce of triple sec.

Gin with apple and apricot in equal ounces, and just a teaspoon of lemon.

A Perfect Martini with a teaspoon of Bénédictine, which is the whole difference.

The sling the Singapore one came from: gin, cherry brandy and Bénédictine, lengthened with soda.

Mostly Dubonnet with a splash of gin, and often called the Dubonnet Cocktail. Low, sweet and bitter all at once.

A sour served long over ice, with a spoon of water to open it up.

The sour template on gin. Three ingredients and nowhere to hide.

Mint and sugar muddled in the glass you drink from, then gin over ice.

Gin with a full ounce and a half of lime, lengthened with soda and swizzled cold.

Sloe gin and curaçao with a teaspoon of anisette. Sweet, and darker than it looks.

Gin with sweet vermouth and triple sec in equal half ounces.

Gin, dry vermouth and Bénédictine in equal thirds. Herbal and dry at once.

Gin and grapefruit in equal ounces, kept dry by half an ounce of vermouth.

Gin, sweet vermouth and green Chartreuse in thirds, with one dash of Campari.

A Gin Fizz with the egg white in it. The silver is the foam on top.

Gin with anisette and a spoon of cream. Small, white and stronger than it looks.

Gin and Dubonnet with kirsch and orange juice in equal half ounces.

The same idea on sweet cherry rather than dry kirsch, stirred and served smaller.

Gin lengthened with green ginger wine and a teaspoon of Bénédictine.

Gin with half an ounce of Grand Marnier and just two teaspoons of lemon.

Gin with half an ounce of triple sec. Two ingredients, stirred, and that is the whole drink.

Equal gin and dry vermouth with a quarter teaspoon of anise. A Tuxedo without the maraschino.

A gin sour with half a teaspoon of grenadine. The daisy is the grenadine.

Gin with triple sec and a tablespoon of pineapple juice. Drier than the name suggests.

A gin fizz softened with two teaspoons of cream and an egg white.

Two parts gin to one of sweet vermouth. A sweet Martini by another name.

Gin and white crème de cacao, two to one. The whole drink is two ingredients.

A Gin Fizz with the whole egg rather than the white. Richer, and yellow.

Two ounces of sloe gin with a quarter teaspoon of dry vermouth and a dash of bitters.

Gin with sweet vermouth and brandy in equal half ounces.

Gin, fresh pineapple and strawberries muddled with sugar and grenadine, then lengthened with soda.

Gin and triple sec with an ounce of pineapple juice and half a teaspoon of grenadine. Tiki proportions on a gin base.

Gin and maraschino with orange bitters. A Casino without the lemon, and drier for it.

Gin and four ounces of orange juice with half an ounce of cherry brandy underneath, topped with ginger ale.

Gin, lemon and a heaped bar spoon of raspberry jam.

Blackberries muddled into gin with liquorice syrup and a lemon cordial, lengthened with soda.

Equal parts, but pale: gin, peach vodka and Lillet Blanc where a Negroni would have Campari and sweet vermouth.

Sambuca, melon, lemon and gin in four layers. The lemon juice is what makes it hard — it wants to fall straight through.

Gin, Lillet and lemon with white crème de cacao in it, which sounds like a mistake and is the reason the drink survived.

Gin with Scotch stirred into it and nothing else.

Equal parts sloe gin, apricot brandy and lime. Three sweet-sounding things that come out tart.

Mulled apple and orange juice with gin stirred in off the heat. Mulled wine's job, done without the wine.

A gin sour with green Chartreuse and an absinthe rinse, shaken with egg white. Green, herbal and a long way from a fizz.

One syrup doing the work that grenadine and sugar do in the original. Less sweet, and the raspberry reads as fruit rather than as colour.

The Greyhound with gin under it. The botanicals meet the grapefruit halfway, which vodka never tries to do.

The gin Salty Dog. Salt on the rim pulls the bitterness out of the grapefruit, and the juniper gives it something to pull against.

Gin lengthened with lemon-lime soda and a real squeeze of lemon. The fresh juice is the whole difference; without it this is a gin and soda.

Grandma's Coughdrop with gin under it instead of whiskey. The juniper turns the whole thing pine-and-berry, which is where the name came from.

A Japanese-inspired sour: green-tea-infused gin and junmai sake with lychee, ginger liqueur, honey and lemon, shaken with egg white and finished with a crescent moon of matcha dusted over the foam.

A spicier, rye-forward version of a cocktail that originated in New Orleans in the nineteenth century.

Bourbon, Fernet Menta, and Grand Marnier over cold brew. Bitter, minty, and wide awake.

Pineapple, bourbon, and amaro. An unlikely spritz, and a good one.

Three spices give the classic cocktail a whole new savory dimension.

Rye and tea with coconut cream and amaro. Cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, star anise, or whatever says autumn to you goes into the infusion.

This mashup of a Bellini and a French 95 is rich and nutty, and requires a serious amount of practice to get the texture and complexity just right.

Yomeishu is sold in Japan as a tonic for fatigue and poor circulation. Ignore the branding. It gets on well with whisky.

Sunflower seeds add a rich, nutty note to the bourbon, which keeps the shrub from running away with the drink.

An earthy and juicy cocktail that leans heavily upon the bright and sweet flavor Irish whiskey is known for.

A smooth stirred bourbon drink that makes for the perfect nightcap.

Amaro, spiced pear and a chile shrub over bourbon. A winter drink that means it.

Smoky single malt in place of the vodka. A Cosmo turns out to be far more open to reinterpretation than it looks.

The Salted Pistachio Syrup is the reason to make this, and you'll start putting it in everything else.

Fernet with the mint turned up. It shows on the nose more than the palate, which is what makes it useful.

A multilayered drink with an emphasis on subtle citrus touches.

Nikka's grain whisky is corn-sweet like bourbon, but goes tropical and citrus where you'd expect vanilla.

Irish Coffee served cold. An Ethiopian espresso brings the floral edge that makes it work.

A shitake mushroom infusion and bitters containing kelp, bonito, and shiitake help turn the Old Fashioned into an umami bomb.

Amazake, a low-alcohol fermented rice drink from Japan, amplifies the apple and lactic notes in the Johnnie Walker Gold Label.

A fusion of an Old Fashioned and a Gimlet provides a zingy and irresistible combination. Despite the name, the bourbon doesn’t have to be Michter’s.

From Lyaness in London. Built to pull the pear and chocolate out of a blended Scotch.

Plum sake and Highland malt, finished over an Ardbeg rinse. Fruit first, smoke last.

Rye, cachaça, amaro, and PX sherry, stirred. It carries you a long way from where you started.

Two corn-forward whiskeys against red pepper syrup and hibiscus. The Cuban roll gets it cold and mixed without beating any air into it.

Hamilton pimento dram is built on a blend of pot-still Jamaican rums, and it is what makes this so spicy. Worth seeking out.

Ichijiku are Japanese figs, and kuromitsu is a black sugar syrup. Both turn up online or at a good Asian grocer.

Whiskey for people who say they don't like whiskey. Fruity and sour enough to hide the point until it's too late.

Butter, miso and shiso worked into Japanese whisky. The spirit on its own is already most of a cocktail.

Rye, maple, and two bitters over a sphere. Want more smoke? Oak chips in a smoking gun, fifteen seconds.

A week of maceration lets the berries ferment slightly, which adds a pleasant funk without reaching for another spirit.

Four Roses spent years mismanaged before its revival, and its quiet sweetness is what makes this digestif work.

A birthday cake in a glass, and just as filling.

A touch of cranberry makes it a fall drink, for when summer is slipping away and winter is close behind.

The candy garnish takes some work. It earns it, on looks and on taste.

Just a pinch of fresh ginger is all that’s needed to push this riff on a Kentucky Mule someplace memorable.

Fat-washing is a great way of adding another dimension to spirits, giving them an irresistible depth.

An ounce and a half of Angostura as the base spirit. It shouldn't work. It does.

Shochu and Japanese whisky under a passion fruit foam. Two citruses, both necessary.

Strawberry and Campari over shochu, with five dashes of peat. The Scotch is the surprise.

Aperol, Cynar, and rye in equal parts. Bitter, and it doesn't apologize.

Aged rum, rye, and ginger. Built for the first cold night of the year.

Rum and bourbon with three syrups and coffee liqueur. Long, spiced, and built to last.

Scotch and amaretto. The almond takes the edge off the smoke.

Manhattan's cousin from across the river, drier and pointed with maraschino.

Irish whiskey and green Chartreuse, which sounds unlikely until you taste it.

A perfect Manhattan built on Scotch. Both vermouths, in equal measure.

The Affinity with half the vermouth, which lets the Scotch through.

Scotch and sweet vermouth with a teaspoon of Bénédictine doing the work.

The Tom Collins on bourbon. Longer and rounder than a whiskey sour.

A Scotch sour with egg white, which rounds it off without sweetening it.

Bénédictine does the sweetening here, and both citrus go in rather than one.

A whiskey sour with red wine floated on top. The float is the drink — pour it slowly and do not stir.

A Manhattan with Bénédictine standing in for the vermouth. Sweeter, and herbal underneath.

The crusta shape on bourbon: spirit, curaçao, maraschino and just enough lemon.

Bourbon and white crème de cacao, sharpened with lemon. Served in a flute.

Named for Prohibition's law-breakers by the Paris bar that served them.

A whiskey sour with absinthe in it. The book's version leaves out the egg white.

Three ingredients: bourbon, lemon and a teaspoon of maple syrup instead of sugar.

Bourbon with apricot and grapefruit, which is a stranger pairing than it drinks.

Equal whiskey and sloe gin. Two ingredients and nowhere for either to hide.

Scotch lengthened with a lot of grapefruit and a teaspoon of grenadine.

A Manhattan with a quarter ounce of Amer Picon in place of some of the sweetness.

Bourbon and sweet vermouth with a dash of anisette, which is the whole idea.

Three ounces of bourbon and half an ounce of Bénédictine. Nothing else at all.

A whiskey sour with half a teaspoon of grenadine standing in for some of the sugar.

Canadian whisky with dry vermouth, and Amer Picon and maraschino by the teaspoon.

Irish whiskey with green crème de menthe and green Chartreuse. As green as it sounds.

A Manhattan with Bénédictine instead of vermouth and a teaspoon of brandy on top.

Irish whiskey and dry vermouth turned green twice over, then garnished with an olive.

The sour on Scotch, and made with lime here rather than lemon.

A Stinger built on Scotch, in equal parts. Sweeter and smokier than the brandy one.

Bourbon with both citruses and a teaspoon of grenadine, shaken short.

Scotch, sweet vermouth and Bénédictine. The shape of a Bobby Burns.

A swizzle on Scotch, stirred until the glass frosts before the soda goes in.

Equal bourbon and dry vermouth, with blackberry and lemon measured in teaspoons.

A Rob Roy with dry vermouth instead of sweet, and only a teaspoon and a half of it.

Whiskey and a half ounce of rum, soured and lengthened with soda.

A whiskey fizz with a tablespoon of port and an egg white. The port is what makes it.

Scotch with Drambuie and dry vermouth in equal half ounces. A Rusty Nail turned dry.

Scotch with four dashes each of brandy and curaçao, over crushed ice with mint.

Scotch and green ginger wine, poured and stirred. A British winter in a glass.

Whiskey with a whole lemon and a whole lime in it, sweetened, reddened with grenadine and lengthened with soda.

A Rob Roy that takes orange bitters instead of Angostura. The swap is small and the drink is not the same.

The julep with raspberry syrup in place of the sugar. Eight mint leaves and a lot of crushed ice, as ever.

Half a ripe peach muddled with lemon and brown sugar syrup, then bourbon and two dashes of Angostura over the top.

A Black Manhattan worked over: rye and Amaro Nonino stirred cold, then strained into a coupe sprayed with absinthe.

Half an ounce of lemon curd shaken into bourbon, which thickens the drink the way an egg white would and sweetens it at the same time.

Bourbon, pineapple and honey syrup shaken with egg white until it is thick enough to hold bitters on the surface.

Whiskey, peach and triple sec shaken with lemon. A sour built to be drunk in one go.

Tennessee whiskey and sambuca, shaken cold. Equal parts, and it drinks like neither one.

Bourbon and Dubonnet in equal parts with a little Cointreau. Sweeter than a Manhattan and lighter on its feet.

Rye, coffee liqueur and milk in equal parts. The White Russian's build with whiskey in the vodka's place.

Irish cream, coconut rum and whiskey in equal parts. Named for the initials and nothing else.

A shot of whiskey and a glass of beer. Four ways to drink them and no wrong answer.

Whiskey and lemon-lime soda over ice. The name is the two sevens and nothing more.

Tennessee whiskey and cola. No technique, no garnish, and no apology needed.

Tennessee whiskey, triple sec and lemon, lengthened with lemonade. A whiskey sour built for a long afternoon.

Whiskey and peach schnapps dropped into energy drink. The Jägerbomb's sweeter cousin.

Islay whisky stirred with Frangelico and chile honey. Smoke, hazelnut and a slow burn, and it works better than it reads.

Half Islay, half blended, with maple syrup instead of sugar. The smoke sits under the foam rather than on top of it.

A bourbon sour with rosemary syrup in the sugar's place. The herb reads as savoury against the lemon rather than sweet.

The julep with basil where the mint goes. Softer and a little peppery, and it wants the same mountain of crushed ice.

Rye and dry vermouth instead of sweet. Sharper, paler, and it takes a lemon twist rather than a cherry.

Bourbon, dark rum and port, stirred with two bitters. A Manhattan-shaped drink with the vermouth swapped for fortified wine.

Rye, apple liqueur and cranberry in near-equal parts. Sweet-tart, and the rye keeps it from being a sweet.

Fresh ginger muddled in rather than cooked into a syrup, and the smoky float pinned to a measure instead of left to judgement.

Three equal shots of Canadian whisky, amaretto and cranberry, shaken and thrown back in one. Sweet enough that the whisky never gets to argue.

One Tennessee, one Scotch and one bourbon, in equal thirds. The line-up is the joke; the drink underneath is a shot of whiskey.

Whiskey with a quarter ounce of coffee liqueur under it and four drops of grenadine on top.

A dark, spirit-forward Old Fashioned: overproof rye sweetened with demerara and seasoned with chocolate and black walnut bitters, finished with a cherry and a dried orange wheel.

Irish whiskey with blackberry, allspice, lemon and lime and two kinds of bitters, poured into a glass full of rosemary smoke.

Overproof rye layered with plum and cardamom bitters, Chinese five-spice syrup, spiced pear liqueur and a little dry vermouth, stirred and served small with a star anise pod at the side.

A smoky, cherry-forward rye: molasses and cherry bitters, a bar spoon of Islay Scotch, Amaro di Angostura and Cherry Heering.

From Peaks to Palms pairs tropical pineapple, lime, and grapefruit with the herbal character of Yellow Chartreuse and Appalachian Amaro Oscura.

Blackstrap rum floated over ginger beer, so it arrives in layers.

Campari's bitterness against pineapple. It converts people who think they hate tiki.

Unfashionable and completely delicious. Use real coconut cream and it earns its reputation.

Aged rum's caramel and vanilla make it a natural in the old-fashioned template.

A Mojito that grew up and put on champagne. Audrey Saunders, 2001.

Coffee, almond and cream, with high-proof rum underneath.

Angostura as a base spirit again, this time with rum and orgeat behind it.

Two rums, two bitter liqueurs, and pink peppercorn. Complicated in a rewarding way.

Three citrus juices and two rums. A daiquiri that spread out.

Half an avocado in a daiquiri. Creamy, savory, and the texture is the reason.

Rum, Port, coffee liqueur, and an egg yolk. As heavy as it reads.

Coffee, umeshu, PX sherry, and a dash of balsamic. Every ingredient pulls a different way.

Three ounces of freezer-cold rum with a whisper of sherry. Rum's answer to the Martini.

A mojito with Chartreuse alongside the rum. Herbal on herbal, and it holds.

Rum, elderflower, and Peychaud's under Champagne. Small, pink, and dangerous.

Cinnamon, star anise, and amaranth steeped in warm water, then cachaca. Served hot.

Cachaca and shochu in one glass, with matcha. Two countries, one sour.

Fresh grapefruit flesh blended in, with a grapefruit salt rim. A Salty Dog, taken further.

An ounce of Angostura, cream of coconut, and mint. Loud, and it works.

Guyana rum stirred with vermouth, maraschino, and three kinds of bitters. Dark and deliberate.

Mango, oolong, orgeat, and falernum with saline. Tropical, and precisely measured.

Rum, coconut milk, lime, demerara. Four ingredients, nothing wasted.

Three rums, cherry and pine liqueurs, falernum. The Zombie, restyled.

Sherry alongside rum, with sage and mint agave. Dry, herbal, and long.

Four rums, two citruses, honey and ginger. A rum lover's showing-off drink.

Tiki bitters, spiced rum, banana syrup, and a mist of pear calvados. A Tuesday, elevated.

Umeshu and orange marmalade with aged rum. Jammy, tart, and warmed by chile.

Two rums, orgeat, and curacao. A Mai Tai with the volume up.

Puerto Rican rum and Hawaiian agricole over ginger beer. Hibiscus keeps it bright.

Six cups of milk, three of rum, and a dozen egg halves. Make it for a party.

White wine reduction, falernum, and a spritz of lavender. Delicate, then not.

Cachaca and sake with banana and shiso. Fizzy, foamy, and hard to place.

Lemongrass syrup, mint, and crushed ice, swizzled until the tin frosts over.

Absinthe, agricole, falernum, and Chartreuse. Sharp on every side.

Vermouth two ways with cashew syrup. Brazil's after-work drink, rebuilt.

Apricot, Galliano, guava, apple, and overproof rum. Nobody said restrained.

Passion fruit, cream, and orgeat, named for the soaked cake. Just as rich.

Pineapple rum and passion fruit with vanilla. Soft, tropical, and easy to over-order.

Grassy agricole with cold brew and burnt sugar. Bitter, funky, and short.

Rum, lime, creme de cacao, demerara. A daiquiri with chocolate underneath.

Rum and pineapple with Galliano behind it, lengthened with prosecco.

A daiquiri with grapefruit and no sugar at all. He is said to have ordered them doubled.

Prohibition-era Havana, and barely pink — the grenadine is half a teaspoon.

White rum and Galliano, cut with lime. Tropical without the fruit salad.

A daiquiri that swaps the sugar for honey. Warm the honey first or it will sit at the bottom.

Barbados in a rocks glass. The blackstrap is what makes it look like its name.

A sidecar that splits the base between rum and brandy, and is longer on lime than most.

Rum and apricot in equal measure, with more lime than either. Short and sharp.

Rum with grapefruit and lime in near-equal parts, sweetened enough to hold them together.

A Daiquiri with maraschino in it. Half an ounce is enough to change the whole drink.

Rum and vodka blended with apricot and grenadine, served up in a flute.

Two parts rum to one of sweet vermouth. A Manhattan with the whiskey swapped out.

Rum, pineapple, orange and coconut cream, with nutmeg over the top.

Rum and sweet vermouth in equal ounces. The Little Princess with the vermouth doubled.

Rum, brandy and applejack in equal thirds, with a quarter teaspoon of anise.

A rum swizzle turned green with a tablespoon of crème de menthe.

Two parts sweet vermouth to one of rum. Barely a cocktail and all the better for it.

Both rums with pineapple, two citruses by the teaspoon and a little maraschino.

Five things in equal half ounces, and no one of them in charge.

A rum sour with triple sec and egg white, finished with mint.

Dark rum and lemon with a teaspoon of grenadine. A daiquiri that went darker.

Rum and apricot shaken with egg white until it is thick enough to hold an orange slice.

Rum and port in equal ounces, shaken with egg white and lengthened with soda.

Rum with a third of an ounce of cream sherry and a good squeeze of lime.

Rum with a teaspoon of anisette and half a teaspoon of grenadine. Small and aromatic.

A rum Casino: triple sec, lime and maraschino, each measured in teaspoons and a half.

Equal rum and pineapple with a teaspoon of lemon. Three ingredients and nothing sweetened.

Equal rum and brandy with lemon and two teaspoons of raspberry syrup.

Sugar and soda stirred in the glass, then dark rum poured over ice. A cobbler is that simple.

The sour template on light rum, with only half a teaspoon of sugar.

Three ounces of rum with maple syrup and lemon. Sweeter and bigger than a daiquiri.

A whole banana blended into a daiquiri, with a tablespoon of triple sec behind it.

The caipirinha built on white rum instead of cachaça. Two limes, muddled in the glass with the sugar.

A caipirinha made with demerara sugar, which takes it molasses-dark and rounds off the lime.

Six mint leaves blended into a daiquiri. Somewhere between a daiquiri and a julep, and better than that sounds.

Four chunks of fresh pineapple blended into a daiquiri, with only half a teaspoon of sugar because the fruit brings its own.

The milk punch on light rum, shaken rather than stirred, with nutmeg grated over the top.

Fresh strawberries and a half ounce of strawberry schnapps, so the fruit reads even when the berries are ordinary.

POG juice and RumChata with Grand Marnier and cinnamon — a soft, creamy tropical drink. The acid-adjusted version is the one its maker prefers.

The same tropical build with white rum added and a quarter ounce of citric-malic solution standing in for the acidity POG juice does not have.

A Negroni's shape with rum in the gin's place: aged Jamaican rum, a pineapple amaro and a bitter red aperitivo, with a quarter ounce of banana liqueur underneath.

A shaken piña colada with strawberry syrup poured in afterwards, which sinks and sits red under the white. Stir it before you drink it.

White rum, cinnamon schnapps and Tabasco, shaken. Nothing here is on fire — the name is about the aftertaste.

Overproof rum, cinnamon schnapps and Jägermeister in equal measure. One is plenty.

The long version's ingredients at shot strength. The colour survives the shaking, which is most of the point.

White rum and bianco vermouth in equal parts, with apricot, grenadine and lemon in small enough doses to stay out of the way.

White rum and advocaat with a splash of cream over ice. The stronger of the two drinks under this name.

Advocaat, overproof rum, orange juice and half a banana, blended. Creamy, fruity, and much stronger than it drinks.

Hot black tea with overproof rum in it and sugar to taste. A cold-weather drink, and the rum is not a rounding error.

Butter, sugar and spice stirred into dark rum and hot water. It sounds wrong until it is cold outside.

White rum shaken with lime and orange and a dash of bitters. A daiquiri that went looking for a second citrus.

Rum, sugar and spice, stirred and served over ice. No citrus at all, which is what separates it from almost everything else built on rum.

Overproof rum and coconut rum under a long pour of pineapple. It tastes like almost nothing and is almost entirely rum.

Four spirits, pineapple and lemon, shaken and poured long. Bright green for no reason other than the blue curaçao.

A piña colada with vodka in it and blue curaçao poured over the top, which floats and then sinks in ribbons.

Two rums, cherry liqueur and three juices. Long, fruity, and stronger than the colour admits.

A strawberry-banana blend poured into the glass first, then a piña colada down the middle of it. The red comes up the sides.

Rum, coffee liqueur, banana liqueur and a whole banana, blended with cream. A milkshake that knows what it is doing.

Six spirits in equal measure, topped with orange and pineapple. A Long Island that kept going.

Three spirits blended with orange, lemon and almond syrup, poured into a bowl with a straw in it. One drink, and optionally set alight.

Two rums instead of one, and a little sugar on top of the orgeat. Longer and sweeter than the 1944 build, and it forgives a rougher bottle.

The same two-to-one-to-one-to-four the original pours, built on coconut milk rather than cream. Thinner, and the pineapple carries further.

Built in the glass on a sugar cube rather than poured over syrup. Two bitters instead of one, and a small overproof float that shows up on the finish.

Four spirits and two juices in equal fifty-millilitre pours, with an overproof float on top.

The same four bottles as the Boston Sidecar poured in equal measure, and a good deal shorter on lime. Drier and tighter, and it disappears faster.

Eight rows, three of them coconut, blended over vanilla ice cream. A milkshake that happens to contain overproof rum, and it hides it completely.

An ounce of rum with half an ounce of espresso on it, drunk in one. Somewhere between a nightcap and the thing that undoes a nightcap.

A Daiquiri riff on homemade kiwi syrup with half an ounce of Green Chartreuse — green enough for St. Patrick's Day, and good well past it.

A Blackbeard-inspired tiki drink: aged dark Jamaican and overproof Demerara rums with molasses bitters, a few drops of absinthe and a little mild mezcal, sharpened with lime and pineapple and sweetened with orgeat and falernum.

A Christmas Carol drink: Earl Grey tea, fig preserves and pecan orgeat with dry sherry, rye and aged Demerara rum, sharpened with lime and finished with fresh cinnamon.

A bright tiki rum punch: white rum and Smith & Cross Jamaican rum with lime, pineapple and simple syrup, seasoned with Primitiva and Angostura bitters.

Tropical but balanced: an eight-year aged rum and a half ounce of overproof Jamaican rum with passion fruit, pineapple, lime and lemon, demerara gum syrup and Polynesian Kiss bitters, served up.

A Daiquiri riff drawn from three places: Brazilian cachaça, Italian bergamot liqueur and an American strawberry syrup, brought together with lime.

Invented for someone who wanted to wake up and get knocked out simultaneously.

Cold is the entire point. Chill everything longer than you think you need to.

Coffee liqueur and cream over vodka. Unserious and unbothered about it.

No vermouth unless it's asked for. Cold, clean, and over in four sips.

Vodka and coffee liqueur. Add cream and it becomes a White Russian.

Vodka and orange juice. Honest about what it is.

Vodka and cranberry. The drink most people mean when they say vodka cran.

Vodka and grapefruit. Salt the rim and it becomes a Salty Dog.

Pineapple and cassis, which sounds like a mistake and isn't.

Five spirits and a splash of cola. Tastes like iced tea, drinks like a warning.

Citrus vodka and sour mix, lengthened with soda.

Vodka, peach schnapps, and lemonade. Porch drinking, formalized.

Vodka and rum together, sweetened with powdered sugar to taste.

Six ounces of orange juice hiding two kinds of trouble.

Citrus vodka and black raspberry, straight down.

Apple juice, lemon, and a grenadine blush. Small and tart.

Anise, vodka and cream. Sweeter than it sounds.

Peach and cranberry. The shooter everyone's had at least once.

A Martini with amaretto and Chartreuse in bar-spoon doses. Odd on paper, tidy in the glass.

Matcha shaken into grapefruit and yuzu. Bitter, green, and wide awake.

No alcohol, all technique. Shiso and butterfly pea, and the color does the rest.

A mule that got dressed up. Elderflower and hibiscus over fresh ginger juice.

Pineapple three ways with Peychaud's floated on top. Subtle it is not.

Jasmine, lime, sage, and sparkling wine, misted with star anise. Built to be looked at.

Cherry syrup and lime over vodka, topped with ginger ale. A mule with a sweet tooth.

Strawberry tea vodka and passion fruit under Prosecco. Upside down in a good way.

Strawberry, mint, and ginger with vodka. Bright enough to drink year-round.

Smoked pineapple syrup turns the mule into something else entirely.

Tamarind vodka, elderflower, Prosecco. Three ingredients, all of them working.

Orgeat, passion fruit, and a pinch of salt. Tiki logic applied to vodka.

Twenty juniper berries muddled into vodka. Gin, made to order.

Real grated chocolate and truffle honey. Nothing like the version you're picturing.

Served hot, with butter and honey in it. Strange, warming, worth trying once.

Melon, coffee liqueur, cream, and an egg yolk. Rich beyond reason.

Smoked rasam in a highball. Savory, spiced, and unlike anything else here.

Basil muddled with sugar, then Chartreuse and Maurin Quina. Green all the way down.

Blackberry and elderflower over vodka. The drink that made St-Germain famous in New York.

Cucumber vodka, yuzu, and soda. About as refreshing as a glass gets.

Beet and apple juice with chile vodka. Earthy, sweet, and quietly hot.

Cucumber, pear, and a sugar-dusted lime. Gentle, as advertised.

Cardamom vodka with pear and apple over ginger beer. Spiced and long.

Vodka and red wine in the same glass, sweetened with vermouth. Older logic, still sound.

Coconut rum, cream, and lavender bitters. Soft edges everywhere.

Wheat beer in a cocktail, with Aperol and toasted spice honey. Refreshing and odd.

Aquavit, sherry, and sugar snap pea syrup. Tastes like a garden in early summer.

Aquavit, Aperol, beet, and coconut syrup. Earthy and bitter, and it holds together.

Coconut rim, brown-butter-washed spirit, sesame oil. Every ingredient is doing something technical.

Sweet potato shochu with cacao and amazake. Creamy without any cream.

Stirred, diluted, and salted to taste. Minimal in the way that takes real work.

Plum-powder rim, shiso, yuzu, agave. Sour, salty, and herbal in three sips.