The World's Oldest Cocktails Might Surprise You

Let's clink glasses as we slip into the worn leather booths of history, and flip through centuries-old pages of cocktail culture. Ah, the good old days when Prohibition-Era inflation only jacked up the price of a brandy Alexander to 50 cents. Happy hour in the 1930s was lit.

Much of cocktail history relies on stories re-told (and re-remembered) over generations of mixology and imbibing. But since everyone there was also partaking in the party, details can be a little ... muddled. Was a New York bartender the first to make a cocktail? Was the sazerac the one that started the trend? (Wasn't Steve wearing pants earlier?) However you shake it, you'll at least have a little backstory to go with your next mixed drink.

Let's toast to tradition with the tipple, mixer, and citrus twist of your choice. When it comes to the oldest cocktails on record, you might be surprised at which one really gets you pipped (that's a 1911 term for "buzzed"). So which cocktails have stood the test of time? From the sweet, to the sour, and the fully on fire, we're celebrating the spirit behind each of these age-old elixirs. 

Basically the mojito's origin story in a glass, El Draque features rum poured over mint leaves muddled with Demerara sugar, a slice of lime, and the medicinal bark of the Chuchuhuasi tree. (If you don't live in the Amazon Rainforest, you can skip that part.) But we're only talking about what's known as the world's oldest cocktail because a bunch of pirates had scurvy.

Back in 1586, English ship captain Sir Francis Drake was busy doing ... pirate stuff ... along the shores of Havana, Cuba, when his cabin mateys came down with a case of low Vitamin C. Ship representatives were sent to the closest shore where the indigenous Ciboney and Taino tribes showed them how to make a drink out of immunity-boosting Chuchuhuasi bark and stomach-calming mint. A medicinal tonic was born (or finally recorded by someone). This sweet and refreshing drink eventually lost the bark and transformed into the mojito cocktail often attributed to Cuba. Some say mojito means little spell, or derives from the Spanish word mojar for wet, but even if the mojito only got popular because of a rebrand by Bacardi, we can give Sir Francis Drake props for his namesake Draque which seemed to take the edge off Cuba's cholera epidemic in 1833. As writer Ramón de Paula penned at the time, "Every day at eleven o'clock, I consume a little Drake ... and I am doing very well."

It sounds like a cocktail that should come with a side of airplane peanuts, but this lilac-hued sipper might be better suited to a garden party in spring. The aviation features gin, maraschino liqueur, crème de violette liqueur, and fresh lemon juice shaken with ice, strained into a glass, and garnished with a cocktail cherry.

The aviation first hit its groove in 1916, appearing in the instructional collection "Recipes for Mixed Drinks" by bartender Hugh Enslinn of The Big Apple's Hotel Wallick. While it started out with a bang, the cocktail almost disappeared completely when the very specific crème de violette vanished from shelves in the '60s. Luckily craft cocktail trends promoting imported liqueurs saved the day in the early 2000s when crème de violette returned to the United States. But despite the aviation's semi-comeback, its unmistakably floral — some might say soapy — nature means it's never the first kid picked for dodgeball. "I guess there are still a few people who actually like it," admits Portland, Oregon-based bar manager Jeffrey Morgenthaler. "But I make about six of those things a year."

We've got strawberry, banana, and mango Daiquiris trying to steal the spotlight, but the original lime Daiquiri launched the blitz around one of the most popular cocktails in the world. The classic Daiquiri features light rum, fresh lime juice, Demerara sugar syrup, and ice — shaken for 30 seconds (like Ina Garten recommends) — then it gets strained into a coupe glass and garnished with a lime twist.

The story goes that in 1898, the Daiquiri was shaker'd into existence by American miner Jennings Cox in Daiquiri, Cuba. The recipe is then said to have been brought to the United States by a Navy medical officer who had been based in Cuba. But the true origins might go back much earlier than that. The British Navy mixed a drink called grog in the 18th century that featured some of the same ingredients — minus the ice — because, well, no one thought of that yet.

Hemmingway and John F. Kennedy loved the Daiquri, leading to demand that not even an octopus bartender could handle. Enter an unlikely hero: 7-Eleven. The Miracle Mixer first came onto the scene at 1937's National Restaurant Show — it inspired the frozen Daiquiri we now drink without even tasting the alcohol. As David Wondrich, an esteemed cocktail historian, told Esquire, "The Daiquiri represents such an obvious marriage between local ingredients — rum, sugar, limes — and American technology — cocktail shaker, ice — that it would take an idiot to not invent it." (And drink it.)

Back before people even knew what to call spirits that were tossed around with other drinks, there was a cocktail (ah, that's the word) they nicknamed the "old fashioned." The traditional old fashioned features Angostura bitters and sugar dissolved in a bit of water and stirred with bourbon and ice, then served with an orange twist, the oil of which is also squeezed into the cocktail. But that's not exactly how the old fashioned started out.

In 1806, the term "old fashioned" referred to a kind of drink-making that involved various types of liquor mixed with sugar and fruit. But in the 1870s, as barkeeps got creative and started reinventing whiskey cocktails with Chartreuse, maraschino, and absinthe, regulars hoping for the previous version began requesting the old fashioned, aka the one without all the new stuff. But if you want a story with its pinkies all the way out, there's also the claim about the old fashioned originating at Louisville, Kentucky's private Pendennis Club, where distiller Colonel James E. Pepper invented it, called it the old fashioned, and then shared it with New York City's Waldorf Astoria where the recipe was put to paper. Whether it got its start in Kentucky, New York City, or anywhere else, if you're tempted to try it yourself, all you have to do is pick your whiskey.

Sounding like the upper half of a 1980s power suit, the blue blazer was born for fans of hot drinks and pyrotechnics. Imitating a hot toddy on fire, the blue blazer features Scotch whisky and Demerara sugar — lit aflame — and tossed back and forth between two mugs that previously held boiling water. (Don't forget the final citrus twist.)

This one comes to us thanks to Jeremiah "Jerry" P. Thomas who is credited with innovating modern bartending as we know it. His 1862 book "Bar-tender's Guide" illustrated how to craft this "blazing stream of liquid fire" — without spilling it everywhere and burning the place down. As the story goes, he was working at a bar in San Francisco during the Gold Rush, when a customer demanded, "Bar-keep! Fix me up some hell-fire that'll shake me right down to my gizzard!" Apparently, this alleged gizzard left happy. While this cocktail serves up all kinds of bartending flair, just make sure to toss your flaming whisky with a proper amount of caution — and maybe a fire extinguisher.

With a history as blurry as your vision at two 'ritas in, you could say the margarita's made its mark on every generation since its sweet-and-sour inception. Still topping the charts as the most-ordered cocktail in 2023, a classic margarita features blanco tequila, orange liqueur, fresh lime juice, and agave syrup garnished with a fresh lime wheel in a salted-rimmed rocks glass.

Taking several prevalent theories into account, it seems that at least the branding around the margarita name started somewhere in mid-century Mexico. Maybe it was named after a Texan socialite named Margarita Sames who invented the drink at her Acapulco vacation home in 1948, where an heir of Hilton Hotels made it popular at the resorts. Or, Jose Cuervo might have branded it in 1945. There's also the one about a bartender shaking one up for an actress in 1938 who was allergic to everything but tequila and lime. (Likely story!) While these accounts add sizzle to the story, it's also possible that the margarita was merely a descendant of the tequila daisy cocktail (margarita means daisy in Spanish, and this drink featured similar ingredients) sipped at a bar in Tijuana back in 1936. Wherever this cocktail really came from, almost a century later, happy hour is still in its 'rita era.

Pour one out for "Colonel Joe's" favorite drink! A classic gin Rickey requires gin and fresh lime juice to be poured over ice, topped with club soda, and garnished with fresh lime in a highball glass. And further solving any #CocktailHistoryProblems, it was named after an actual guy at a specific-ish time and place in history. What a relief.

A zero added-sugar alternative that's just as refreshing as those sweeter options on the menu, this cocktail combo was first requested by Democrat lobbyist Joe Rickey at Shoomaker's bar in Washington, D.C., during the sweltering summer of 1883. The recipe then caught on like wildfire. As the Washington Post noted of Democratic convention after-parties a year later, "There were gin Rickeys and whisky Rickeys and brandy Rickeys and every other kind of Rickey known to mortal man." The cocktail even popped up in "The Great Gatsby" where F. Scott Fitzgerald portrayed his characters knocking back gin Rickeys "in long greedy swallows." Turns out that 1920s hooch is still legit.

Known as a Prohibition-Era icon, a classic sidecar features cognac, orange liqueur, and fresh lemon juice shaken with ice, strained into a coup glass with a sugared rim, and garnished with a fresh, fragrant twist of orange. But was it a motorcycle or an extra shot that inspired the name?

While it's commonly thought to have originated sometime during World War I, by the 1920s, bars in England and France were saying they both first mixed the cocktail for a thirsty customer who showed up in a motorcycle sidecar. That story's gotten a lot of, ahem, mileage, but "The Essential Cocktail" author Dale DeGroff isn't exactly buying it. He says the sidecar is simply the term for the extra bit of shaker cocktail that doesn't fit into the glass, and gets served as a shot on the side. Either way, the anecdotes have stuck around as long as the popular cocktail. Bar Hemingway at the Ritz in Paris, France — which claims it was the one that started the trend — reportedly pours an unapologetically indulgent version of the original. The Ritz Sidecar goes for roughly $1,500 and features all the usual ingredients — but with store-bought booze swapped out for a jaw-droppingly high-end Ritz collection cognac from the 1800s. Dust off the cobwebs and sip it like you mean it.

For anyone hoping to hydrate while they libate, the whiskey highball offers a bubbly alternative to straight shots. A traditional whiskey highball features whiskey that's poured over ice, and topped off with double the amount of ginger ale or club soda.

The umbrella category of highball cocktails references spirits that are enjoyed with a fizzy mixer. It's a mixology method that likely got popular with the rise of industrial seltzer-making in the 1800s, with the iconic scotch and soda combo igniting the trend. The drink was fit to print by 1895, appearing in "The Mixicologist" by C.F. Lawlor, and later 1900's "Bartenders' Manual" by Harry Johnson. But as for how we got the name for the highball glass itself, back in the days of train travel, a ball measured levels of steam by rising through a pipe (becoming a literal high ball), at which point workers would take a rest and enjoy a whiskey. Plus, back in the 1890s, a drinking glass was often called a "ball". Maybe it's all just wishful drinking, but the whiskey highball still stirs up the buzz.

In celebration of World Pisco Sour Day on the first Saturday in February (mark your calendar!), taste the national cocktail of two South American countries in a single glass. A traditional Pisco Sour features pisco, lime juice, simple syrup, and an egg white, shaken and strained into a Nick & Nora glass, garnished with Angostura bitters.

With Peru and Chile both claiming to have invented the smooth, herbal cocktail, a recipe pamphlet from Lima, Peru in 1903 notes the earliest pisco sour ever. Maybe it then gained momentum with turn-of-the-century tipplers when Salt Lake City, Utah expat Victor Morris revamped a whiskey sourat his Peruvian bar in 1916. A few more drinks later, all of Hollywood (famously John Wayne, Clark Gable, and Orson Welles) was three sheets to the wind on the cocktail. Thirsty for some sweet and tangy star power? Go ahead and make a pisco sour yourself.

Gin fans who love a little fluffy egg white can shake up this elixir for citrusy refreshment. And even though the gin fizz is almost 150 years old, it still works just as great for hangovers as ever. The classic gin fizz starts with gin, fresh-squeezed lemon juice, simple syrup, and an egg white, shaken and strained into a Collins glass, and topped with club soda.

While you might have tasted the Ramos Gin Fizz (that's the 1888-era version that's shaken with heavy cream), the original gin fizz (no cream) was first recorded in Jerry Thomas's "The Bar-tenders Guide" 12 years earlier in 1876. It was like a cooler Tom Collins with an egg added to the mix. If you need proof of this cocktail's drinkability, an 1890s competitive boozing champ — "Professor" Denton — once drank a whopping 40 gin fizz cocktails in 24 hours. Even for fans, it was an astonishing record ... that is until the day he drunkenly decided to polish off his drinking glass, too, later succumbing to internal bleeding. Still, his legacy lives on. A toast to the Professor!

The first person to correctly guess where this cocktail got its name gets $1 million (do we really need to say we're kidding?). With origin rumors still swirling more than a century later, we might be playing this game forever — but at least we have the premiere "modern cocktail" to drink while we do it. A Manhattan features rye whiskey, sweet vermouth, and Angostura bitters, poured over ice, then finished with a simple stir and a cocktail cherry. A chef's kiss.

Okay, yes, it was invented in Manhattan in the 1880s. But exactly where and by whom may never be pinned down. Most accounts claim it was mixed at New York City's Manhattan Club — a narrative which was bolstered by a report from the New York Sun in 1891. But there's also the story about George Black inventing the cocktail at his Manhattan Inn even earlier — in the 1860s or '70s. Whatever story is true, the Manhattan hasn't really changed since it was invented. But why mess with what industry legend Gary "Gaz" Regan once called "the drink that changed the face of cocktails."

New Orleans might have you dreaming of gumbo, Mardi Gras beads, and zydeco, but Louisiana's official cocktail is also worth sipping. The original sazerac starts with an absinthe-rinsed glass where cognac, simple syrup, Peychaud's cocktail bitters, and ice get topped off with a lemon peel. And it earned its stripes as the first-ever cocktail on record, known by its name.

Born sometime in the mid-1800s, the sazerac may have first debuted at New Orleans' Sazerac Coffee House as a French cognac-based elixir featuring Sazerac-de-Forge-et-Fils and possibly some of Antoine Peychaud's famous bitters. Whiskey tagged in when cognac got caught up in the supply chain, and absinthe came and went. But even though the official New Orleans version now usually features rye whiskey, anise-forward Herbsaint liqueur, and Peychaud's bitters, the cocktail's rich history will still warm your chest with every sip.

 It's the drink that Hollywood legend Joan Crawford once called "better than slapping Bette Davis in the face." A piña colada features light rum, cream of coconut, pineapple juice, lime juice, a pineapple slice garnish, and an optional cherry. (Sip that sweet revenge for yourself.)

It's the national drink of Puerto Rico, which rightfully lays claim to this sweet blend of tropical flavors as we know it. Of course, no one can decide exactly who first made the drink. Two different accounts point to industrious bartenders at the Caribe Hilton Hotel in 1954, but a third storyline puts a mixologist at Old San Juan's Barrachina at the forefront of the colada movement. (There's also a plaque posted outside for clarity.) Yet another narrative puts the cocktail's infant origins in Cuba, with the most fantastical take involving a Puerto Rican pirate named Roberto Cofresi who whipped up the drink to prevent an 1800s-style mutiny aboard his ship. Whatever version you tell your friends, just don't forget the cocktail umbrella.