Ingredients:

Raw sugar cube or simple syrup to taste- usually around one or two bar spoons depending on whether the syrup is a rich 2:1 sugar to water mixture or a lighter 1:1 combination.

Aromatic Bitters, most commonly Angostura- 2 dashes.

Orange Bitters (optional)- 1 dash.

Whiskey- 2 oz. 

Orange peel 

Lemon peel 

Whole books have been written on it. Its nuances inspire argument. It invites interpretation yet staunchly embodies fundamentalism. It is a symbol. Part enigma, part utility. A finely crafted one is its own reward. An ode to itself, like Odin Sacrificing himself to himself for the gift of knowledge of death: true sight. It has taken many forms, but has always answered to Old-Fashioned. 

I encourage all people to read Imbibe! by cocktail historian David Wondrich. Also read The Old-Fashioned by Robert Simonson if you want the full story spanning the two hundred years this drink has survived and thrived. But I will offer my summation of the most relevant facts and transformations which lead us to where we are today. 

In 1806 the word “cocktail” first appears in print with the definition “a stimulating liquor, composed of spirits os any kind, sugar, water, and bitters.” This is important for a few reasons. Mainly because nowadays we are used to calling any mixed drink including alcohol a cocktail, though many should actually be considered variations on punch, or called by whatever name they were born with be it nog or flip or fizz or Collins or Alexander, but whatever, the most important thing is that the inclusion of bitters becomes the defining characteristic of the category. Also that an Old-Fashioned is a category of drink as opposed to a specific drink is also important when caught in an argument with someone claiming it must be Bourbon or you have to call it something else. Not true. But most important to note is that originally there was no need for it to bear its present name, but rather all you had to say when you wanted one at the bar was “A Whiskey Cocktail please.” The drink as we know it today, did not exist yet, and this prototypical version would likely be scoffed at and sent back by the mustache-twirling, bad nautical-themed tattoo covered, no-nothing found standing instead of sitting in every cocktail bar in America right now. 

The first bar manual was published in 1862. This seminal work by “Professor” Jerry Thomas is entitled The Bartender’s Guide, How To Mix Drinks, or The Bon Vivant’s Companion. It begins with 89 different recipes for punch. The 90th-93rd entires are for Brandy Cocktails and finally the 94th entry is for a drink that seems familiar to us, called simply “Whiskey Cocktail.” The recipe has a few idiosyncrasies. It is printed as follows:

WHISKEY COCKTAIL

Use small bar glass

three or four dashes of                                                One wineglass of whiskey,

gum syrup                                                                         and a piece of lemon peel

Two dashes of bitters

Fill one-third full of fine ice; shake and strain in a fancy red wineglass.

Obviously this oddly laid-out description if followed to the letter would not render you a very good Old-Fashioned, but that is because we have learned in a new school of thought. The recipes directly following this entry are for common variations. You could have your whiskey cocktail “fancy” by adding a few dashes of orange curaçao, or “improved” by adding dashes of absinthe and maraschino liqueur. Eventually these modifications among others began adhering themselves to the “house whiskey cocktails” at establishments all over the nation, to such an extreme that when one ordered a plain whiskey cocktail in a bar they would have no way of knowing what it was going to taste like. Purists became outraged and developed a solution. They would demand their whiskey cocktails be made “the old fashioned way” thus ensuring they would get their drink as they expected wherever they may be. This is when the idea of using raw sugar soaked in bitters arises and re-enter the muddler! Also rises the idea of adding a large lump of ice to cool the mixture but not dilute it, to keep it both simple and strong, rustic and bold. A spoon became a common serving utensil so the drinker could stir it to make it colder or use it to gather up the delicious paste of bitters and sugar which rested in the bottom of the glass not completely dissolved. 

Industry and the rise of processed food culture that took hold of the country after WWII almost marked the death of the Old-Fashioned. Where a tiny splash of soda water was once used to help dilute the sugar and bitters into that delicious syrupy slush with a muddler, now becomes a spritz or a topper or even ginger ale or 7-up. Where the muddler used to work grinding up sugar and occasionally dashes of orange liqueur from France or delicious cherry liqueur from Italy it now smashes up bleached and dyed candy-zombie “cherries” masquerading under their stolen true name “maraschino” as well as whole chucks orange and lemon instead of just using the oils from their peels to season the surface of the drink and the rim of the glass. The ice also became small and wet and filled with air making it melt more quickly. To say the least, things got very sloppy, and stayed that way for decades because the tradesmen and keepers of the knowledge who handed down the traditions had past into shadow. As a people we had lost our way. And so the dragon slumbered on, waiting to be finally reawakened. 

Certain minute pockets of Europe and Japan kept the arcana alive. They also added a few new tricks to the body of knowledge we share today which ironically began when American Bartenders fled overseas to ply their trade during the dark days of prohibition from 1917-1933. 

The last 20 years or so have brought us a long way in this country in terms of what we drink and how we drink it. Thanks to legends like Dale “King Cocktail” DeGroff, Gary “Gaz” Regan, Julie Reiner, Audrey Saunders, the late Sasha Petraske, and many worthy others, this great art that was born in the United States has returned and a whole new generation of American bartenders has grown up with access to good information and great drinks. The Old-Fashioned we know and love, we owe to them. 

Dave Arnold, author of Liquid Intelligence, has an obsessive knack for arriving at the elemental state of a drink. His Old-Fashioneds are great, built on a large rock in the glass they are served in, with bitters, syrup, stirred, and finished with an orange twist.