Inside My Cocktail Brain

How I Build Menus That Feel Alive

A cocktail menu isn't a list of drinks — it's a story. It's the identity of the space, the vibe of the room, the energy of the people in it, and the emotional experience you're trying to create.

I've written menus for high-volume bars, international guest shifts, luxury programs, and neighborhood spots, and the truth is: the process is always personal.

This is how I build a menu that feels alive.

1. Start With Identity — The Personality of the Room

Every bar has a soul. Some are moody and low-lit, some are bright and buzzy, some are polished and elegant, some feel like your funniest friend's living room. And every guest walks in already wanting something — citrusy, boozy, pretty, comforting, familiar.

A great cocktail menu sits right in that intersection: what the bar is trying to say and what the guest is hoping to hear.

This is also why I'm obsessed with batching. People love to pretend batching is "cheating" — it's not. It's efficient, respectful, consistent, and it keeps bartenders focused on hospitality instead of wrestling with jiggers while 30 people wait. There is absolutely zero shame in running a batching program.

2. Honor the Operational Reality

If a drink only works on a slow Tuesday, it doesn't belong on a real menu. Execution matters. Glassware matters. Prep matters. Storage matters. Ice matters. Team skill level matters.

Great menus respect the people making the drinks as much as the people drinking them.

3. Build the Flavor Map

Once I understand the room, I sketch the flavor landscape in my mind: citrus-forward, spicy and bold, herbal and green, boozy and elegant, dessert-leaning, and a zero-proof option that actually slaps.

It's about range — but also cohesion.

4. Culinary Thinking — Food First, Liquor Second

Most of my cocktail ideas start from food — a dessert, a sauce, a broth, a charred vegetable, an aromatic oil. Chefs think in layers: texture, acid, umami, aroma, temperature. I build cocktails the same way.

When I worked on the menu for Bohemia, an Indonesian restaurant in Williamsburg, my notebook was full of words like watermelon, pandan, miso, yuzu, sesame, coconut. Translation: that's what my cocktail brain looks like before anything ever hits a menu.

5. Salted Syrups, Blended Prep & Ingredient Integrity

Salted syrups make fruit taste like fruit — fresh, dimensional, alive. A little salt sharpens everything.

I also almost never use heat unless I have to. An immersion blender keeps flavors bright and fresh in a way a pot can't. Especially in bars without a kitchen, this is how I keep ingredients tasting alive.

6. Tea Syrups & Tea Spirits — Understated Power Moves

Tea adds tannin, aroma, and quiet structure without overpowering the drink. Tea syrups = strong tea + sugar. Tea spirits = a quick infusion. Simple, stable, elegant.

Example: Southern Hospitality

Created at Record Room, Southern Hospitality is a black tea–infused D'USSÉ Sidecar that drinks like elevated sweet tea.

It looks classic but drinks nostalgic, structured, and warm.

7. Menu Flow — The Story Within the Story

A menu should feel like a journey. Start with approachable citrus builds, move into expressive or savory drinks, anchor the center with stirred cocktails, end with something decadent. And the zero-proof deserves its own place.

Layout matters too — spacing, clarity, tone. A guest should feel invited, not overwhelmed.

8. Testing & Editing — The Heartbreak Stage

Some drinks you love won't survive service. Too delicate, too slow, too weird on paper. Editing is an act of respect — for your guests and your team.

9. Training — Where the Menu Comes to Life

A menu is only as strong as the people executing it. Specs matter, but language matters more. Your team needs the "why," not just the recipe.

10. Feedback — Let the Menu Breathe

A menu moves with the season, the neighborhood, the guest base, the staff. Watch what sells, what doesn't, what gets photographed, and what gets sent back.

11. Philosophy: Don't Shame Guest Orders

If someone wants a Cosmo, Vodka Soda, Espresso Martini — great. Make it perfect. Guide, don't gatekeep. The only jokes happen in true industry moments (Adios Motherfucker, Malört dares). Guests deserve to feel good about what they love.

Closing: A Cocktail Menu Is a Story in 8–12 Chapters

Technique matters. Prep matters. Training matters. But in the end, your menu is your voice — distilled and expressed through flavor.

Build with intention, identity, curiosity, and respect.

And your menu won't just be a list of drinks. It will speak.