The Case for Sober Cocktail Hour
My history with drinking goes something like this: it was a lot of fun, then sometimes it was fun and sometimes it was terrible, then eventually it was no fun at all.
Still, I often longed for the ritual of enjoying just a single drink, preferably outside on the first warm day of the year, even if I hadn’t exactly been known for ever enjoying just a single drink. Five years after I quit, I now find myself indulging in a nightly cocktail hour with the enthusiasm of a '70s swinger in a conversation pit—and without the alcohol. It all started when I had the chance to try a new non-alcoholic aperitif called Æcorn. (It’s currently only available in the U.K., but hitting the U.S. this spring.) (Please don’t ask me how to pronounce it.) One night in early January, in between shutting my work laptop and sitting down to dinner, I poured myself a glass over ice. The Bitter variety of Æcorn is ruby red, borderline syrupy when chilled, and true to its name. It’s also rich and complex and akin to Campari, but somehow better. I was immediately hooked.
It offers a liminal third space between work and home, even if all three spaces happen to be in our homes right now.
Soon, I simply needed to have my bitter little drink every single evening. My husband and I began to punctuate our work days by putting on some music, pulling out our nice glasses, and pouring ourselves one. It’s the liquid equivalent of an exhale, a small but fortifying moment of pleasure. I feel a bit like Frasier and Niles having their foppish nightly sherry, but I embrace it. And taking up this ritual made something else come into relief. When I stopped drinking, the way I approached my life did a 180: I worked harder, for more hours, woke up before the sun rose to run miles and miles, and was looking at a screen more often than not. The parts of my life that should have been most pleasurable sometimes felt more like killing time between everything else. I had become—I shudder to admit this—productive.
The case for a sober cocktail hour is, ultimately, the case for any cocktail hour: because our culture, by and large, forces us to be productivity obsessed. Taking this time carves out a moment to unwind from the day, to reconnect with others, to be present. It offers a liminal third space between work and home, even if all three spaces happen to be in our homes right now. I’ve always loved the Italian ritual of aperitivo, and people who get the entire month of August can’t be wrong about anything relaxation-related, but it wasn’t until recently that I realized how little booze has to do with it.
If you’re not drinking alcohol right now, there’s never been a better time to take up this habit. For any sober person who’s spent a night out at the bar nursing seltzer or a Diet Coke and feeling like they’re at a six-year-old’s birthday party, I have excellent news: there are more and better non-alcoholic drinks on the market than ever before.
Ghia, which fashions itself as being inspired by Mediterrean apéritif traditions, is the most aesthetically pleasing bottle of the bunch, but it’s not all for show. The bitterness delivers, and it delivers a transportative experience as is, on ice with an orange slice garnish. For Bitter For Worse is the crunchy Pacific Northwest option, down to the folksy florals on the bottles. The cocktails are thoughtfully premixed, and the varieties run from refreshingly effervescent to deep and smoky. Lyre’s provides a full range of spirits meant to parallel the alcoholic version. I tried the range that allows you to mix up a non-alcoholic negroni and found they lean a bit syrupy and sweet, but if you’re not a fan of bitter, they’re a good gateway.
Other options include the Amass Riverine, which is fresh and leafy and so light that it will probably end up working its way into my rotation during the summer. For the more experimental, there’s the earthy Woodnose Sacré, which is made from maple syrup and has notes of both vinegar and coffee. The lovely Proteau is in a category all its own, simultaneously rich and botanical and peppery; I treat the Ludlow Red almost like a wine equivalent. I love a glass of dry, sparkling TÖST, which is not an IKEA product but a tea mixture meant to be akin to champagne and best thought of as its own thing. When I can find them, I’ll happily have an old school Sanbitter or Crodino. My favorite is still the Æcorn by miles, preferably with a splash of Fever Tree ginger beer on top, and I’m counting down the days until I can order it by the case here.
With my apartment suddenly crowded with beverages, I've been on the lookout for a new bar cart (once again, with the fervor of Frasier Crane). Should this inspire you to also stock a sober bar cart, which is no longer an oxymoron, I consulted with Julia Bainbridge, the author of Good Drinks: Alcohol-Free Recipes for When You're Not Drinking for Whatever Reason on some more optimal ways to fill yours. Bainbridge agrees that bitterness is a key element of making a sophisticated non-alcoholic drink. “Both bitterness and complexity encourage us to slow down. These are not the kinds of drinks we chug, these are the kinds of drinks that make us think,” she wrote to me when I asked about the qualities that make non-alcoholic drinks feel sufficiently adult. “And then there's the glassware! The pleasure of holding a nice stem or sipping from the lip of a coupe should not be overlooked.”
For mixers, Bainbridge said that beginners will find that “just good-quality soda water, tonic water, and fresh citrus fruits” should suffice. Good Drinks is all about DIYing it, but Bainbridge says that, “unless you want to buy gentian root and figure out how to make a tincture or some such with it, the bitter component is best purchased.” Then, she suggested, play around with infused syrups, teas, fresh juices, vinegars, and shrubs yourself. Tool-wise, Bainbridge suggests a shaking tin, a Hawthrone strainer, a fine-mesh strainer, and a jigger. “There aren't many stirred alcohol-free cocktail recipes out there, so if you're starting from nothing, I'd buy a shaking tin over a mixing glass,” she added. And, of course, don’t forget the glassware.
Will I continue this ritual when this is all over? We’ll see. But until we have the entire month of August off for vacation, it can’t hurt.
Gabriella Paiella is a senior staff writer at GQ, where she covers culture in the form of features, profiles, and Q&As. She’s profiled Nicolas Cage, Jeremy Strong, and Zoë Kravitz for the cover of the magazine, explored why men are so obsessed with the 2003 nautical drama Master and Commander,... Read moreSenior Staff WriterXInstagramRelated Stories for GQDrinkingFood