A trip to the Big Apple gets Joseph Piercy thinking about the city’s place in the history of mixology

America, and particularly New York, has a history of falsely claiming credit for inventing things. From pizza (Naples) and hot dogs (Frankfurt/Vienna via Ancient Rome), to skyscrapers (Chicago), baseball (Tudor England) and the contraceptive pill (Mexico City), New York has bogusly boasted origin status for many social, cultural and culinary creations. NYC is also the self-styled Cocktail Capital of the World, with various drinks (often erroneously) attributed to its famous bars and hotels.

I first visited the city in the mid 1990s, ostensibly to do post-graduate research on the Russian/American writer Vladimir Nabokov whose manuscripts and letters are housed in New York Public Library, but mainly because it was a handy excuse to experience the place. I spent a very happy week perusing the archive by day and bar hopping by night. It was in such a drinking establishment, just off Fifth Avenue, that I had my first Long Island Iced Tea. The barman challenged me and my partner that if we could drink three each we could have them on the house – a feat that we managed, just about, although I’ve a vague memory that when the barman was otherwise occupied, my partner may have surreptitiously vomited into a handbag she’d bought from Macy’s that afternoon. Suffice to say the hangover the following day was formidable – please drink responsibly.

The origins of the Long Island Iced Tea, like many a cocktail, are vociferously disputed. The New York version was indisputably created by a barman named Robert “Rosebud” Butt for a mixology competition at a Long Island nightclub called the Old Beach Inn back in 1972. A heady mix of five different spirits (tequila, vodka, white rum, gin and triple sec) topped up with citrus juices and cola, the cocktail gains its name from the mixers that give the drink the hue of iced tea. An alternative and more colourful origin story concerns a Prohibition-era bootlegger from Kingsport, Tennessee named Charlie “Old Man” Bishop (it seems in American drinks history it’s de rigueur to have a name punctuated by a silly soubriquet in quotations, a practice which in the UK is normally only applied to darts players and likeable idiots). Bishop apparently ran an illegal distillery on an island in the middle of the Holston River in the 1920s, known locally as Long Island, and added maple syrup and fruit juices to hide the fearsome flavour of his home-produced hooch, which he named Long Island Iced Tea. After Prohibition, “Old Man” Bishop’s son – Ransom “Basher” Bishop – took over the business and refined the recipe adding cola and lemon juice.

I recently returned to New York courtesy Virgin Atlantic’s January sale, in which, if you’re prepared to brave the appalling weather, there are some very cheap flights available. On the first morning I took a nostalgic trip to New York Public Library, where I saw some thrilling treasures, including the satchel in which Malcolm X kept the notes for his speeches, an extract from the original manuscript of Maya Angelou’s I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings (beautiful handwriting) and A A Milne/Christopher Robin’s collection of soft toys. With the greatest respect to Malcolm and Maya, meeting the real, actual Eeyore made me rather tearful (he was looking suitably glum) and in need of a pick-me-up.

Along the road from NY Public Library is Grand Central Station and I remembered from my previous trip a fantastic balcony bar overlooking the concourse. Walking in to Grand Central, as with most of Manhattan, feels unerringly like walking around a film set. Initially I was horrified to discover the bar I fondly recalled had been turned into an Apple Inc-sponsored E-Café before realising I’d entered through a side entrance on a different level and my bar was at the opposite end of the concourse.

It’s changed hands since I was last here in the nineties. These days it’s called Palladino’s and serves steak and seafood, but the atmosphere is essentially the same. This spot has appeared in so many films and television programmes that it felt familiar even 30 years later. It would usually be advisable to book in advance but as it was midweek in the middle of January and blowing a blizzard outside, the concierge allowed us to pop in for a drink.

The cocktail list reflected the current obsession in mixology with the martini, and in particular putting savoury flavour combinations in the form of garnishes in the drink. Four of the eight drinks on Palladino’s Signature Classics menus were “martinis” of different variants, which seemed excessive, especially to someone indifferent to martinis. Alongside the Classic (gin and white vermouth) which nonetheless was garnished with three different stuffed olives, one containing blue cheese (eek!), were a Tomatillo Martini (green tomatoes, green tomato-infused vodka, olive oil, and olive brine) and a Miso Caviar Martini (miso-flavoured vodka, dry vermouth, honey-infused gin and garnished with a mille-feuille potato cake with caviar – all for an eye-watering $68 before tax and tip). Not being a big fan of – how can I put this delicately? – bits of shit floating in my drink, I opted for a Manhattan (when in Rome etc).

The popular origin of the Manhattan cocktail is that it was created by barman Iain “The Judge” Marshall for a party hosted by Jennie Jerome, aka Lady Randolph Churchill, to raise money for Samuel J Tilden, the Democratic nominee in the 1876 Presidential Election. The historical accuracy of this tale is disputed on the grounds that Lady Churchill would have been very heavily pregnant with Winston at the time. An alternative story is that the cocktail was created a decade earlier in a basement bar on Broadway by a barman known simply as “Black”, and that “The Judge” borrowed and popularised the drink. Either way it’s an elegant drink, its virtue being its simplicity and subtle balance of bittersweet flavours.

Making a Manhattan
The key to a really good Manhattan is the quality of the ingredients. Many cocktails’ sole purpose is to mask inferior quality liquor with juices and mixers, eg Long Island Ice Tea. Palladino’s version uses Sazerac Rye, a six-year-aged Kentucky whiskey with a rich history dating back to the New Orleans Coffee houses of the 1800s, and Formula Antica, the flagship Vermouth from Carpano, the oldest Vermouth house in Turin – both available online at thewhiskeyexchange.com. I’m mindful however that these are expensive premium brands so for a budget alternative Aldi does an excellent budget bourbon named Samuel Joe’s and a great Vermouth Rosso – both of which do a valiant job for half the price. One thing you can’t really skimp on is the Angostura bitters.

60ml rye whiskey (or bourbon)
30ml sweet vermouth
4 dashes of Angostura bitters / maraschino cherry

Pour into a cocktail shaker with ice and stir slowly for at least 20 seconds  – do not shake, as this produces a bitter foam that ruins the drink. Strain into a frozen cocktail glass, garnish with cherry. Sip slowly and savour.

This article is from Idler #109.

Subscribers may comment. Please add your idle thoughts using the box below

Subscribe to the Idler here and get 17% off the shop price plus a FREE copy of Idle Thoughts by Tom Hodgkinson, worth £8.95

A Drink with the Idler

Our next guest on “A Drink with the Idler” is Alex Johnson, who will be chatting to Tom Hodgkinson about the Philosophy of Sheds, and the thoughts they have inspired throughout history.

Mark Vernon will also present a new Thought for the Week.

That’s Thursday 28 May, 6pm-7pm.

Find out more and book tickets here. It’s FREE to subscribers – otherwise £7.50.

How to Live Like a Stoic

The May/June 2026 issue of the Idler (#109) is available in Waitrose, Smiths and TG Jones.

Click here for your nearest stockist.