I honestly don’t know when I fell in love with the Old Fashioned. Did a friend suggest I try one? Was it love at first sip? Am I just too lazy to order anything else? All I know is that one day, I started drinking Old Fashioneds. And then I never stopped.
Most of my 20s were spent teetotaling. I didn’t have a particularly good reason why. I was never a heavy drinker. I didn’t bottom out or anything. I was just trying to live an ascetic lifestyle, eschewing meat, animal products, cigarettes, alcohol, caffeine–basically, I was Mormon minus the magic underwear.
When I finally broke away from straightedge-ness in my early 30s, I really had no idea how to order an alcoholic beverage. I knew I didn’t really like beer or wine (both of which I’ve learned to appreciate in limited ways since then), but I knew literally nothing about mixed drinks at all. After a few missteps (White Russian? Naaaaaah.), I defaulted to what you’d expect from an amateur: vodka plus whatever mixer was handy. Cape Cods. Greyhounds. Whatever the heck you’d call vodka and Sprite with a splash of grenadine.
By my mid-30s, I “graduated” from vodka to gin, which seemed like a logical step–it was also clear, and also mixed well with most ingredients. Plus, the recipes were cooler: Aviations, French 75s, Negronis. I spent my entire wedding drinking gin drinks (too drunk to remember what else was in them) and rarely got sick, so that was good, right?
At some point in my late 30s, I realized I didn’t like gin on its own, and I was definitely done with vodka (one day ask about me blacking out at a nightclub after drinking way too many Cape Cods), and approaching middle age as I was, brown liquor seemed mature and alluring. Scotch, bourbon, whiskey–these were liquors you could consume neat or on the rocks and actually enjoy. Plus, they paired easily with Coke or ginger ale in a pinch, and for me, at least, left less of a negative impression the next day (mostly).
From there, it didn’t take long for me to discover the Old Fashioned. It seemed to be–when made well–the perfect drink: strong, but smooth; musky, but slightly sweet; drinkable, but not so much to overdo it. It was the perfect drink for me–and to me. Living in Las Vegas at the time, I was surrounded by dozens of cocktail bars who whipped up excellent versions of this American original, which only deepened my love and fascination.
Since then, I’ve made it my mission to try whatever Old Fashioned a new restaurant or bar has to throw at me. I’ve had them made with mezcal, with tequila, with rye. I’ve had a terrible, watered-down one in Hell’s Kitchen. I’ve had a surprisingly delightful one at a chain restaurant. I’ve had one smoked at a cocktail bar in Huntington Beach. I wrote about a half-dozen of them served at The Cosmopolitan of Las Vegas. And now, I’ve launched this blog as a way to celebrate this greatest of all the classic cocktails, and to share that journey with you.