This is the drink people expect on New Year’s Eve, and that’s fine. You pour something fizzy, hand it to someone, and the night immediately feels like it’s started. That’s really all you need from a drink at this point. The nice thing about a Champagne Cocktail is that it doesn’t ask much of you.
If you already like a Manhattan, this version won’t ask you to relearn anything. It’s still spirit-forward, still structured, still very much itself. The only change is the sweetener, and even that is more about texture than flavor. Maple syrup rounds things out in a way simple syrup doesn’t, especially in colder months when sharper
Some cocktails are about impact. Others are about balance. The Reverse Manhattan belongs firmly in the second camp. By shifting the emphasis from whiskey to vermouth, it keeps the structure and confidence of the original while offering a softer, more aromatic profile. It’s the kind of drink you make when you want something thoughtful and
By Christmas Eve, everyone is done. Done shopping, done cooking, done pretending this is all effortless. This is not the night for a cocktail that requires a diagram, a garnish you don’t own, or the emotional bandwidth to care if it’s perfectly balanced. Christmas Eve calls for a drink that understands the assignment. For me,
The Perfect Manhattan is all about balance. By splitting the vermouth evenly between sweet and dry, it lands neatly between richness and sharpness, allowing the whiskey to shine without leaning too far in either direction. It’s a composed, elegant drink—ideal for moments when you want something classic but not heavy, polished without feeling indulgent. What
The Black Manhattan takes the familiar structure of the classic Manhattan and quietly shifts it into darker, more bitter territory. Sweet vermouth is replaced with amaro, trading brightness for depth and a longer, more contemplative finish. It’s a restrained change that delivers a markedly different mood. This is a Manhattan that suits winter evenings and
The Old Fashioned isn’t seasonal because it tries to be—it’s seasonal because it adapts. In winter, it absorbs warmth, spice, fruit, and richness without losing its identity. These variations show why one cocktail can carry an entire season. The Original Old Fashioned Before variations, there is the blueprint. Whiskey, sugar, bitters, and citrus—nothing more, nothing
This one tastes like warm apples straight out of the oven. Not cider, not candy-sweet—just baked apple flavor with a little spice and bourbon underneath it. It’s familiar in the best way and easy to understand from the first sip. If you liked the Spiced Apple Cider Old Fashioned but want something calmer and less
This is the Old Fashioned at its most basic — and honestly, at its best. Bourbon, sugar, bitters, and an orange peel. No syrups, no extra flavors, no tricks. Just a solid drink that tastes exactly the way an Old Fashioned should. If you’ve been enjoying all the cozy twists lately, this one brings things
This one sounds indulgent, but it’s still very much an Old Fashioned. Brown butter adds a toasted, nutty flavor that makes bourbon taste rounder and warmer, without turning the drink sweet or heavy. It’s the kind of cocktail people are curious about but not intimidated by. You don’t need special equipment when you serve it