Why I Hate Something You Love: Cocktails

Cocktails are total garbage.

I can live with Gin and Tonics and Bloody Marys, but the type of expensive, over-the-top sugary concoction adorned with muddled fruit, spices, and Eye of newt, simmered over a cauldron and blessed with magic spells really ruffles my goddamn feathers.

I like to think of my love for alcohol as being on par with every American’s deep-rooted feelings towards Star Wars. Cocktails do to alcohol what George Lucas did to Star Wars in the 90s: royally f*ck up something wonderful, here's why.

A recent article on Gawker suggested implementing a two-lane system at bars—an express lane for beer and a slower line for cocktails. Why, you ask? Because cocktails take a goddamn eternity to “craft," turning the bar into a waiting room. There’s nothing more frustrating than watching a bartender select and muddle somebody else’s fruit when all you want is to snake an ice-cold cruiser. How many beers could you order in the time it takes to make one cocktail? Seriously. Count them. It doesn’t take a Booz Allen braintrust to tell you that two lanes would ensure you and your crew get some brew-dogs in a timely fashion, while the other guy’s deconstructed rum jiggler smoothie gets strained for impurities.
 

Look, I get how “in” craft mixology is, but that doesn’t mean you should surrender your whiskey on the rocks for an overly-finessed pineapple-strawberry-sugar-and-syrup cocktail with a spritz of organic vodka that’s made by the type of person who insists on reading Infinite Jest by candlelight ("it just casts better"). If it really has to, it should just be a garnish, not 99 percent of the contents of your glass. As for sugar and other diluting interlopers? If you can’t handle the alcohol, maybe drinking isn't for you. If you must have a martini, give a pitted Cerignola green olive a gin bath and wave it in the general direction of Italy. Olives are fruits—get educated.

What’s the point of drinking a finely aged whiskey if you can’t taste the rich, smoky flavor through an assault of cassis, Angostura bitters, simple syrup, and fresh lemon juice? Unless you’re on a white whiskey kick, some of the finest drinks out there are ones that have been sitting in a barrel since before you were but a glimmer in your father’s eye. Aged whiskies have a very distinct and wonderful taste that is easily stampeded when it's put in a prison yard of sugary fruit juices and spices. Whiskey is aged in barrels for a reason—it adds flavor and depth—covering that up is criminal and should be punished with no less than 40 lashings.
 

A glass of good bourbon isn’t especially cheap, but it’s probably less costly than your artisanal Sidecar made from locally-sourced GMO-free starfruit that grew on your bar’s rooftop garden. Does it make you a more well-rounded person when you abstain from money-sucking drinks? Yes, yes it does. Will your simple-but-elegant glass of bourbon catch the attention of beautiful Saudi princesses? I’m not going to promise anything, but yes, I promise it will.

Drinking hard liquor straight is making a statement—a statement that says you’ve grown out of your bottom-shelf whiskey and Natty Ice phase. You’ve developed a more discerning palate now and the newly-acquired appreciation of unfiltered, uncompromised flavor speaks volumes to the type of person you’ve become. Treat your tongue like the long-term f*ck buddy it is; you’re in this together and you’re going to treat it right until the day you die. With this advice tucked into your pocket, you now have all the more reason to get out there and order a bourbon. And hey—tell them Jeremy sent you. Actually, please don’t use my name.

Jeremy Glass is the Vice editor for Supercompressor and his hobbies include Jai alai and drinking bottom-shelf whiskey.