The bartender at the Alembic took my order for a mint julep. He unfolded a small canvas sack, which he filled with ice and laid on the bar. He took up a black bat and began whaling on the pouch, reaching above his head to pummel the bag over and over again.

He mounded the resulting gravel-sized ice in a silver cup into which followed 12-year Old Fitzgerald bourbon and simple syrup. He snapped a generous bunch of dark mint sprigs and planted it in the ice. He concealed a small straw inside the bouquet, such that my first experience of the now-frosted cup was a clean, soaring nose of pure mint. A bracing, richly sweet wash of bourbon followed close behind.

It was the best mint julep I have ever had. By far.

The account above is, first and foremost, a description of the meticulous work that leads to a unique drinking experience. It is part of a story on San Francisco’s craft cocktail bars published by the New York Times in 2008. The author’s journey begins at The Alembic, a craft cocktail bar whose name comes from a distilling apparatus that was widely used by alchemists in the past and is now basically obsolete. I’ve never been to The Alembic, but I found its Instagram account and based on its photos, it doesn’t look much different from any old-fashioned bar on the East Coast – Manhattan and Brooklyn in particular. It has a long wooden drinking bar with a few tables and benches behind it and a bright, merry-looking altar of illuminated liquor bottles in the front. What then is so particular about this bar? The focus is on craft cocktails – a big trend in the bar industry at the turn of the century. One could define a craft cocktail as a beverage better than its constituents. It is the opposite of a simple screwdriver with vodka and orange juice, which has nothing clever or distinctive, or a Jack Daniels with a Coke, a drink that likely tastes the same in every bar in America. To craft a cocktail is to use high-quality ingredients and have careful culinary attention to detail. The term craft cocktail is poorly defined but mainly exists to differentiate modern cocktails from mid-to-late-20th century mixed drinks made with low-quality, mass-produced ingredients. 

The story in the New York Times is focused on the magic that the wizards behind the bar perform. So, to begin this journey, you enter one of these bars, sit down, order whatever your heart desires, observe the barman making it and then relish the potation and the conversation. With a good drink, there are always words to follow. Bars are made to hang out in. At least, this is what they were for in the past. But the future may look less bright. 

When I finally got my share of Covid a few weeks ago, I started to miss outings a lot. So to compensate for my isolation, I read a lot of random things; a lot of it was terrible news. The lockdowns of shops, restaurants, and bars, wrote the Wall Street Journal, were causing the escalation of America’s beer versus liquor rivalry. “Beer was long America’s undisputed booze king. But liquor makers for over two decades have been taking market share from brewers, helped by young drinkers preoccupied with their waistlines and thirsty for new flavors. The pandemic accelerated the trend, as homebound Americans splash out on pricier booze, and lawmakers in several states have handed restaurants the right to sell cocktails to go, similar to what’s allowed for beer in those states, ending decades-old restrictions,” the piece read.

But what’s the concern if the beer sales are down? After the pandemic’s explosion, millions of gallons of beer remained untouched in empty stadiums, concert halls, restaurants, and bars. It was a heavy blow to the beer industry. Besides, with bars and restaurants closed, draft beer sales must have been virtually zero for some time. But if Covid hits breweries, it doesn’t mean that there will be a shortage of beer forever. Beer is easy to make, and there will always be enough of it to have a glass of cold, pale ale in the summer. The same applies to other drinks; no matter the drinking trends, I don’t think any existing alcoholic beverage will disappear for good.  

Instead, the figures indicate that current trends may rather kill the good old bars making craft cocktails. This could mean that drinking and the quality of drinks may change drastically in the future. So if you are a cocktail lover, you might have to start crafting them at home.

In 2020, the spirits’ share of the U.S. alcohol market increased to 39%, up from 28% in 1999, according to Discus, the Distilled Spirits Council of the United States. The data showed that wine edged up to 17% from 16%, while beer’s market share declined to 44% from 56%. Brewers’ trade groups don’t dispute these figures. Last year, according to Gallup, 39% of U.S. drinkers said beer was the alcoholic drink they drank most often, down from 46% in 2001. Meanwhile, 27% said liquor was their favorite, up from 18%.

While beer consumption is slowing down, the average price of what was once the most popular drink in the nation has increased – beer prices rose 58% between January 2000 and October 2021, versus a 28% price increase for spirits. The growing consumption of liquors could be a consequence of heavier home drinking during the pandemic. MedicalXPress reports a 21% increase in alcohol consumption during the pandemic. Distillers in 2020 reported their best sales in four decades — including ready-to-drink cocktails — while beer sales dropped.

Canned cocktails have done exceptionally well, especially after government officials allowed restaurants to offer pre-mixed, low-dose alcohol cocktails on the go. Change has also happened to restaurants as a whole. For example, Washington D.C. had very few restaurants to deliver food to a customer’s home before the pandemic. While it’s not yet on the same level as New York, where food delivery by speedy electric bikes has become the new normal, America’s capital now boasts many more restaurants that deliver food. At the very least, you can now order food online and then go pick it up, which is quite a comfort compared to having to cook every single day in the middle of a global pandemic.

My understanding of the war escalation between breweries and liquor distillers is different. The distillers have hired an army of lobbyists, now ruthlessly promoting low alcohol content canned beverages. Blended with any fruity flavor and sold in attractive packaging, these products are now rivals to the best drinks America has ever produced. While old-timers like me prefer craft cocktails and all the science and pleasure that comes with them, the future is canned cocktails – products targeting younger consumers. In a country where alcohol is illegal to consume before 21, a nonsensical remnant of prohibition-era legislation, these vividly designed cans of industrial-made cocktails are easily confused with nonalcoholic beverages. And who the hell can tell whether folks on the street are drinking Red Bull (a nonalcoholic energy beverage) or a modernly designed tin with a cocktail in it? Any canned cocktail on the market has no glaring characteristic of an alcoholic drink. And they are not as pricey as a mint julep, which would cost a minimum of 15 dollars.

However, while the price is essential, so is the quantity. When people drink three canned cocktails, they will consume the same amount of alcohol and pay the same money as a good craft cocktail. The difference is the quality and uplifting joy, which will not come with the canned cocktail that Coca-Cola’s Fresca produces. 

My wife and I went to Harry’s Bar in Venice, Italy, more than a decade ago. We went there on purpose to taste the original bellini cocktail. First, we had one, then another, as delicious. But we had to leave after that, as we would be risking bankruptcy if we stayed.