When craft cocktailing first took flight in the United States, one of the nation’s leading bars (the Violet Hour in Chicago) posted a screed of “house rules” throughout its dimly lit speakeasy. Besides outlawing baseball hats and cellphone use, the newfangled temple of hooch defined drinks it (justifiably) prohibited—Jäger bombs, light beer, Grey Goose. Punctuating the blacklist was a fan favorite: “No Cosmopolitans,” it scornfully read.
It was a stuffy rebel yell, declaring war on a sugar-rush drinking culture that for decades ruled bars with a sticky fist. Noses turned up at populist cocktails like the cosmopolitan and dirty martini, deeming them unfit for the refined palates of guys with complicated facial hair.
But as old-timey mustaches untwist and high-end cocktail joints aim to be more approachable, bartenders are refurbishing the passé drinks they once spurned.