This article first appeared in the Drinks International Global Bar Edition which can be read in full here
What if I told you that cocktail culture, as we know it, with all the industry trimmings – guest shifts, takeovers, bar shows and brand collaborations – could all be gone within the next 20 years? What if consumers around the world just didn’t care anymore?
If that sounds far-fetched, think about where the industry is headed from here. We’ve come a long way – good cocktails can be found in almost every market in the world – but instead of honing in and doubling down on what we do well, what got us here, we’re starting to lose sight of it. When we should be laying deeper foundations into cultures, we’re star-gazing, playing with our futuristic toys, becoming more and more esoteric and distant from the people we serve. In 20 years, the Rotavap 9,000 will have a fermentation feature, we'll be cutting ice with lasers and sustainably growing bar backs under UV. The customer couldn't care less.
The answer to extending the life of cocktail culture is in the word ‘culture’. We have to, at all costs, translate the notion of mixed drinks into other cultures, languages and create new traditions. One of the most beautiful things that makes us different, unique and irreplaceable is the languages we all speak. And if you’re from a native English-speaking country, this may not have occurred to you – the language of cocktails is mostly in English.
Of course, through punch in England and mixed drink culture in the US, the cult of the cocktail was principally spread by English speakers around the world. When you think about it, this Anglicisation of mixing drinks is all-pervasive. You could be on a remote island in the middle of nowhere, a densely populated city in Asia or a classical bar in New York and the same words appear: Old Fashioned, Gin Fizz, French 75, Sidecar, Whiskey Sour. Even if the cocktail names have their roots in other cultures, they've been well and truly adopted into English and the dominant pronunciation is often that of the English tongue – Dak-or-ree.
Classics are actually the most international end of the cocktail lexicon – signatures on menus seem to always have an English turn of phrase. The language of the mechanics of cocktails too tend to borrow from the English – anything from rocks glass to highball to straight-up.
It’s quite often that the entire menu is written in English. To many people around the world, the internationalism of cocktails could be part of the appeal, but to many others it creates barriers. It ringfences cocktails as something from the English-speaking world.
But the English-speaking world no longer dominates the conversation. Only 13 of The World’s 50 Best Bars 2023 were from English-speaking countries. Cocktail culture has globalised. Yet, I’ll wager that if you walk into any 50 Best cocktail bar outside of a native English-speaking country you will see a room full of native speakers (excluding tourists) ordering drinks in English while communicating in their original language. It’s a unique phenomenon.
Translating cocktails
So here I am, sitting in another cocktail bar in another country where English isn’t the native language. The bartender is trying desperately to explain to the guest what the name of the cocktail stands for and why it’s so clever by repeating the story the bar manager taught them. The guest gives up and asks for something off-menu that has coffee in it, so the bartender offers the Dick Bradsell, London classic, the Espresso Martini. The guest, much to my surprise – and the reason this caught my attention – politely asks: “Why would I drink espresso? This isn’t Italy. Here we drink Turkish coffee.” The bartender shrugs and explains that that’s just what the cocktail is called – and calls for. The guest orders a spirit and mixer.
This is what happens when ingredients and drinks cross borders but don’t translate. When the bar programme’s ambition is to just mimic western drinks, without creating cultural touchpoints.
But it also serves to illustrate something else. And that is how Italian became part of the language of the cocktail and how, if you create your own references, cocktail culture can shift and shape to your traditions. Just think how, over the last century or so, spritz, amaro, aperitivo, Negroni and Americano became part of what we think of as the cocktail landscape. This cultural ownership through language signposts meaning to Italians. It’s why they read Sbagliato and know it means ‘mistake’, whereas most English speakers – for once – have no cultural connection. It’s enough just to pronounce it right. To much of the world, all classic cocktails are Sbagliatos.
I ran an experiment once in a country where 90% of the guests spoke primarily Arabic. I did a guest shift but we wrote all the cocktail names in Arabic using localised phrases that alluded to the drinks. The guests were surprised and intrigued. They were laughing at the phrases and asking questions about the drinks. There are three things you should know: I don’t speak Arabic. The drinks were all classics. The cocktail sales went up 700% for that night.
We spend so much time, money and energy improving our bar stations, bar tools and prep labs in the hope that we will master our craft, our guests will be enthralled by what we do and enlightened by our doctrine. But how many times does a guest need to feel disconnected before they give up on cocktails?
If we are serious about creating sustainable global cocktail culture then the language must be interpreted and translated. If we don’t its imprint in some markets could be temporary. In many places outside of the west, cocktails could yet prove to be a passing trend, unless we lay down roots and create linguistic and cultural touchpoints.
The cocktail should embrace other cultures – not the other way around. The future of what we do depends on it.
