Coupe

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

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

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.

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cilantro, chile, and a coconut cloud on top. A margarita that went to art school.

Named for a Bernie Leadon instrumental, and it drinks like the record sounds: warm, and a long way off.

Yes, blue curacao. Smoke and cinnamon keep it from being a novelty.

The Pineapple Marmalade does the heavy lifting, and you'll want it in other drinks afterwards.

Equal parts mezcal, Chartreuse, Aperol, and lime. A modern classic, deservedly.

Pickle brine in a cocktail. Strawberry and chile make it obvious why.

Salt rim, sloe gin, Chartreuse in the middle. Stranger on paper than in the glass.

Butterfly pea flower turns it the color of dusk. Floral, and it earns the name.

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

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

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

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

Mint chocolate chip in liquid form, and it knows exactly what it is.

Dessert that happens to be a cocktail. The nutmeg is not optional.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

Umeshu and Becherovka with egg white. Plum and cinnamon, softly.

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

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

Green Chartreuse in a Bloody Mary, with a chipotle salt rim. It absolutely works.

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

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

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

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.

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

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.

The sour template on brandy: spirit, lemon, sugar, and nothing else to hide behind.

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

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

The flip template: a whole egg shaken into brandy until it turns thick and pale.

The flip template on cream sherry. A whole egg shaken until it turns thick.

The flip on port: a whole egg shaken until it is thick, with nutmeg over the top.

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

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

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 third of the family. Vodka and amaretto like the Godmother, with an equal ounce of cream shaken through it.

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

The sour template on tequila, and nothing else. Two ounces, a squeeze of lemon, a spoon of sugar.

Tequila, lime and two ounces of cream of coconut, blended white. Nothing dairy in it despite the name.

A lemon ice with vodka stirred through it, forked into crystals straight from the freezer.

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

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.

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.