It was a Friday night, and we already had a few beers in us when we decided to venture into one of Franklin Street’s top cocktail bars, and frankly, had it not been for those beers, I’m not sure we would have had the guts to do it. As a group of casually-attired 20-somethings with 3.7 GPAs and .07 BACs, we were self-conscious in the ritzy Chapel Hill establishment.
At the time, my only cocktail knowledge came from a few Spring Breaks with my brother, so I had no idea what I was doing. My friend Aaron was only slightly better off, having binge-watched a season of Mad Men a few weeks prior. As we approached the bar, I heard him mumbling to himself, “I will not order an Old Fashioned. I will not order an Old Fashioned. I will not order an Old Fashioned.” When the bartender walked over to us, I admitted my ignorance: “I don’t know cocktails, but I like dark beers, spicy food, and single malt scotches. What do you recommend?” I accepted the bartender’s recommendation without question (or comprehension). He turned next to Aaron, who sighed heavily and said with an air of defeat, “I’ll have an Old Fashioned.” The bartender’s jaded countenance indicated that this was a regular occurrence as he asked the necessary follow-up question: “What kind?” Caught off-guard, Aaron blurted out, “Oh shit! It has kinds?!”

Thanks in no small part to shows like Mad Men, the Old Fashioned has made a huge comeback over the past decade. In fact, it’s arguably the signature drink of the classic cocktail resurgence. The name is appropriate since the first recorded cocktails in the 1800s were just sugar and medicinal bitters dissolved into whiskey and water. With only a few modifications over the years, that combination is still ordered in bars today as the Old Fashioned. Let’s talk about those modifications though, because they’re what makes the Old Fashioned so difficult to write about. You see, when you make an Old Fashioned, there are some questions you have to answer:

Will you muddle a sugar cube in soda water, or will you use a syrup?
Which bitters will you use? Angostura? Jerry Thomas? Fee Brothers?
Rye or bourbon? You could even go with brandy if you add muddled fruit and crushed ice.
Do you take it on the rocks? With an ice ball? Neat?
Muddled fruit or no muddled fruit?
Shaken with cold coffee like that one Bar Chaplain post said to try?
Splash of vermouth? (Although that’s getting pretty close to being a Manhattan.)
Garnish with lemon peel, orange peel, cherries, or orange/cherry flag? No garnish at all?

There are an endless number of recipes for the Old Fashioned, and everyone seems convinced that theirs is the right way. This is why it’s such a big deal for a cocktail bar to have their Old Fashioned and why it’s so unwise for a blogger like me to try to put forth any sort of definitive recipe. My only real piece of wisdom on the Old Fashioned is this: when a bartender asks you how you’d like your Old Fashioned, the best answer is always “Tell me how the house makes it.”

(Although, for the record, I prefer 2.5 oz. Buffalo Trace bourbon, .5 oz brown sugar syrup, 2 dashes of cherry bitters, and an expressed orange peel over an ice ball.)