This article first appeared in the Drinks International Global Bar Edition which can be read in full here
I’ve visited 107 countries and explored more than 1,100 cities. Everywhere I go the culinary experience is different, with people oriented to different tastes, flavours and cultural habits. This richness and diversity is what makes flavour my passion. And if you’re taking part in as many guest shifts as I do – last count 201 in 53 countries – you learn to be mindful of what works and what doesn’t. People don’t taste the same.
One of the first things to consider is the level of sweetness. When I moved to NYC in 2010, I adapted to the local palate, including Sasha Petraske’s Milk & Honey ratios. A year later, I went to Miami and found the cocktails overly sweet. The bartender explained that this was how the guests preferred them and, interestingly, I found guests from Miami often found NYC drinks too dry as well.
I personally have a sweet tooth. Being French, I enjoy sweet breakfasts and cannot end a meal without dessert, which is evident in the structure of my drinks. So when I relocated to London for the first time, I found the cocktails there much too dry, evidently adjusted to produce a cleaner, less sweet finish. I remember sending back an Aviation cocktail twice at Montgomery Place, wrongly thinking the bartender had missed an ingredient, reflecting my Milk & Honey expectations. The bartender was not happy.
The level of sweetness in cocktails often correlates with local culinary preferences. In the US hidden sugars are prevalent, such as corn syrup, as a glance through the labels of its supermarket products will show you. Consequently, some regions in the US serve some of the sweetest drinks globally, especially outside of major cities with renowned bar programmes.
Latin American cocktails tend to be very sweet too, much like their desserts, while at the other end of the spectrum, in Lebanon, cocktails are more tart, reflecting the sourness and heavy use of lemon in the cuisine. And here’s a funny thing I’ve experienced: I’ve found that Lebanese people (and Cypriots) won’t accept any drink with egg.
When thinking about acidity vs sweetness, the type of citrus is a big factor. The limes I’m used to, for instance, have a pH of 2.3, but on my travels I have had to constantly adjust my recipes to account for variations in local limes, which has an impact on the overall balance of the drink. Sometimes this means using less syrup or adding a bit of citric acid to enhance the lime juice. The types of sweeteners can also vary. In France, most powdered sugars are made from beets, while many countries use unrefined cane sugar. There’s now wide use of agave nectar, Canada boasts maple syrup, and some Asian countries incorporate coconut sugar.
Varying standards
The amount of alcohol you use in a cocktail also significantly influences the profile of the cocktail. Different countries have varying standards for shot sizes, with Russia typically using larger measures. In the US, the measurements for a Manhattan are 2oz rye whiskey and 1oz sweet vermouth, or approximately 60ml and 30ml respectively, which is 15ml more than most European recipes. This difference in alcohol volume greatly affects the final balance of the drink. I find that cocktails in Asia tend to be less spirit forward and more focused on the flavour of the other elements, possibly because, genetically, there is a lower tolerance for alcohol. Bitterness, too, is not universally appreciated. Italy has a rich tradition of using vermouth, amari and aperitifs, and Argentina is another notable example of a country whose drinks are often bitter-leaning. Fernet Branca is so popular that they produce their own version.
Spice is another variable – not everyone can handle high levels of heat. Countries like Thailand, Indonesia, Mexico and India consume very spicy foods, which would be intolerable for many from other countries – particularly, in my experience, France, Sweden and Japan. I have a cocktail called St Germain des Prés that includes Thai bird’s eye chilli tincture, and I always adjust the number of drops based on where I am serving the drink. Meanwhile, it’s also worth noting that Japan stands out for its umami-rich cuisine, so if I were making a menu there, that’s something I’d lean into.
What we define as the weird and wonderful is also a point of difference globally. Salt made from gusano worms is common in Mexico, and in Asia night markets frequently offer a variety of insects, highlighting their acceptance and consumption. Inspired by this – and their use in high-end restaurants – we recently began using dried ants as a garnish in some of our cocktails. In my bars – in New York, Paris and London – insects are still an unusual ingredient, but in many other regions customers are more receptive to what we in the west might consider weird ingredients. What to some areas of the world is unconventional is to others quite ordinary, so when you create your next guest shift menu, do your research, try to get into the guests’ minds or, even better, their palates.
