Cocktails · 19 September 2026 · 1 min read
Nobody orders one
A fine drink, and a scheduling problem. Which one it is depends entirely on how many people are standing in my kitchen.
Somebody always apologizes for ordering one. They do it quietly, the way you'd admit to still liking a song from 2009, and then they finish it well before whatever I was drinking.
The drink has done nothing wrong. Underneath the garden it is a Daiquiri — rum, lime, sugar, in proportions that have been correct for about a century — and somebody lengthened it with soda so you could reasonably have another. That is not a crime. That is hospitality.
The problem is arithmetic. One is a cocktail. Two is a round. Six is an evening you have agreed to spend standing up, shaking mint, while everyone else sits down and gets to know each other. Nobody orders one of these. They order one, and then they order the idea of one, on behalf of the room.
I make them anyway. The alternative is explaining why not, and that conversation lasts longer than the drinks do.
Cheers, Steve
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