A Toast to Good Drinks

a group of alcohol free drinks sit on a table as a woman chats with friends

Photos by Dave Cooper
Interview by Jennifer Cooper

Presenting alcohol-free drinks just as they presented others—by this, I mean giving them names, putting them on the menu, discussing them with guests with enthusiasm, and also literally presenting them, as in considering glassware and garnishes—helps those who don’t drink alcohol, and have been underserved, feel more seen.
— Julia Bainbridge

These days, with my fluctuating hormones affecting my sleep, mood, weight, and ability to think clearly, I’m less inclined to add alcohol to a body that already feels on fire. And I’m not alone. 

Whether we have perimenopause to thank, or the pandemic, many of us have changed our drinking habits and some have become “sober curious.”

Andrea Barzvi is one of them. Barzvi is a literary agent with Empire Literary in New York City. She was someone who enjoyed drinks with dinner. But last year, she noticed even small to moderate amounts of alcohol affected how she felt the next day. 

So when a book came across her desk marketed toward the sober curious, she was intrigued. At first she gave up alcohol for January, then for 90 days, then for six months. When I spoke to her to see how it was going, she said her sleep is better, she’s not waking up at night, and she has more energy and clarity. 

“Most people drink because they like the way it makes them feel. I like it because of the taste,” Barzvi told me. Which is something I relate to. I drink for both the ritual and, yes, the taste. Frankly, I enjoy the pleasure of it. 

That is until recently. Like Barzvi, I’ve noticed that alcohol doesn’t agree with me like it used to, which has me in search of new pleasures. 

For the past two years I have experimented with creating a soberbar. I bought beautiful cocktail glasses, ran all over Baltimore looking for non-alcoholic alternatives to spirits like gin and bourbon, and tried my best to create something I’d love to drink. But most alcohol-free drink recipes are sugary sweet or too watery. 

It wasn’t until I ran across Julia Bainbridge’s Good Drinks: Alcohol-Free Recipes for When You’re Not Drinking for Whatever Reason, that I found cocktails that brought genuine pleasure. The book contains recipes Bainbridge collected from innovative bartenders around the country. There’s Rob Brouse’s Pimm’s Crown (which I highly recommend), Lane Harlan’s El Curandero, and Nick Wiseman’s Pea Flower Lemonade (it’s become a family favorite). 

The drinks in Good Drinks are elevated enough to serve without anyone feeling like they’re “missing out.” In fact, they’ve brought back the pleasure of drinking. 

I asked Bainbridge—a recipient of the Research Society on Alcoholism’s Media Award who was recently listed as one of Food & Wine’s Game Changers (2021)—about her experience writing a non-alcoholic cocktail book, the ritual around drinking itself, and how the language of sobriety is changing. 

When I think about my traditional connection points with others, many include wine: book clubs, wine clubs, happy hours, etc. Can you talk about drinking as a social ritual? Why do we do it?  

I would punt you to a proper historian to dig deep into centuries of cross-cultural human behaviors and rituals to properly answer this question, but for my part, I'll say: 

We're heavily socialized for drinking to be the primary social activity, and I think it's a good one. It's one that, as opposed to going to a museum or playing soccer, encourages conversation without much distraction. The drink is the prop around which we gather, face to face. Does that drink have to be alcoholic? No. 

I’m not anti-alcohol, either. Its consumption triggers the endorphin system, which lowers anxiety and allows for the forming of bonds. Alcohol can be a great social aid, in other words, for those who can manage it.

We’re heavily socialized for drinking to be the primary social activity, and I think it’s a good one. It’s one that, as opposed to going to a museum or playing soccer, encourages conversation without much distraction. The drink is the prop around which we gather, face to face. Does that drink have to be alcoholic? No.

Why was it important for you to write Good Drinks?

I almost struggle with saying I wrote the book, because it rests on the work of many professional bartenders. I put it together, let's say. But, I saw the opportunity to help shift a paradigm in what I believe is a positive direction. 

Let's look at the bar or restaurant menu as an example. Someone who runs a visual communications agency once told me, “A menu can be incredibly psychological. How important do you feel, considering what you’re associating with on the menu? If you’re associating with the thing that’s discarded and not celebrated, then that’s how you feel.” As someone whose job it is to observe what's happening in the world of food and beverage, I couldn't help but notice that, in 2015 in New York, bars were starting to give more menu real estate to nonalcoholic cocktails. Presenting alcohol-free drinks just as they presented others—by this, I mean giving them names, putting them on the menu, discussing them with guests with enthusiasm, and also literally presenting them, as in considering glassware and garnishes—helps those who don't drink alcohol, and have been underserved, feel more seen. So, this was already happening, and I knew that a book could capture that newfound acceptance and energy and then affect a wider audience. 

What did you discover about yourself through writing it? Was it healing? Anything it brought up for you that was surprising? I ask, because oftentimes we write to understand ourselves. And while this is a recipe book, it's also more. 

No, I would say it's a recipe book! And one that wasn't particularly challenging or therapeutic, from a writing standpoint.

(I agree with you that good writing helps us understand ourselves and helps us relate to one another, and I'm interested in that. When you're writing a profile, say, and you're doing it right, it's not just a story of someone's life. That person is there to tell us something about what it is to be human.)

The bigger challenges were designing the book (it was important to me that it look a certain way); sticking to my guns when it came to the title and subtitle and convincing my publisher that my choices were the best ones for how I hoped to position the work; and strategizing how to bring it into the world. But, overall, making this book was an act of service, not a personal exercise. 

There’s some thinking these days about what language we should use to talk about our relationship with alcohol—everything from “sober” being too restrictive to the idea that drinking shouldn’t automatically indicate something intoxicating. What language do you think feels appropriate? For instance, you mentioned zero-proof drinks should still be called cocktails.  

I don't think labels accurately get at the complexities of our relationships to drugs, but I do understand the need or want for a quick way to convey consumption preferences or habits. But it's tricky, right? I admit, for example, that it irks me when people who don't drink but do smoke cannabis call themselves sober, because I believe that term should be reserved for those who don't consume any psychoactive substance whatsoever. It's why I don't call myself sober, because while I don't drink alcohol, I’m open to other intoxicants. 

I don't recall where I said that zero-proof drinks should be called cocktails, but uff. There's so much anxiety around this question of what to call these alcohol-free mixed drinks. In my research, I've seen Alcohol-Free Cocktails, Virgin Cocktails (ick), Teetotalers, Soft Drinks (don’t hate it), Temperance Drinks (pretentious), Zero-Proof Cocktails, Neutral Cocktails (hmm?), 0% ABV Drinks... Menu nomenclature, as my friend Jordana put it, is its own thicket of awkwardness.

I guess you could say I sidestepped the debate by calling them drinks, and titling my book Good Drinks. (To be fair, there was a reason for this beyond laziness: Think about when people make plans with each other to get a drink. It's assumed that that drink means an alcoholic one; that you're meeting in a bar. My intent is to subvert that a bit.) But, I agree with Julia Momose that "mocktail" implies that the drink is a lesser version of the “real” thing: a cocktail with alcohol in it. (That said, I also know plenty of people who don’t drink who take no issue with the term. It’s effective: it’s simple and rolls off the tongue; everyone knows what it means.) What, though, would be more befitting of the care and skill that goes into making these beverages? It would be nice to collectively align on terminology that we really embrace. 

And, yes, I do think that terminology should make it clear whether or not the beverage contains alcohol. I’ve seen bars mix alcohol-free cocktails with the others on their menus, listing ingredients underneath each drink’s title, but searching for the ones that don’t contain “gin” or whatever, in a dimly lit room, when you’re trying to socialize with friends… I haven’t seen it work well. It just confuses customers. 

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You have an incredible newsletter filled with fantastic interviews, along with drink recipes for subscribers. What’s been one of the biggest surprises that’s come out of producing it? 

Thanks! 

At the risk of sounding immodest, I'm surprised that it hasn't sparked more of a conversation. I imagined some editions kicking off some interesting discussions on Twitter or elsewhere, and I haven't really seen that yet. I've gotten some personal texts, and I'm grateful to have that confirmation of the work in the newsletter moving some people, but I had hoped it might encourage more public debate—from which I could learn, too.

But! The newsletter hasn’t been around for very long, and I also haven't done a great job of marketing it, plus my cadence is somewhat haphazard. Having worked in media for so many years, I know what to do in order to grow it; I just need to get more organized.

What do you hope others get out of the newsletter? 

I hope they get turned on to some really good drinks.

I want to impress upon people that it’s not unusual to develop some kind of drinking problem, at least for a little while.

Anything else you want to share? 

I want to impress upon people that it's not unusual to develop some kind of drinking problem, at least for a little while. Alcohol is a drug! A highly addictive substance! Looked at this way, even alcohol use disorder could be thought of as unremarkable. Painful, confusing, and difficult, yes, but not rare.

The American Psychiatric Association's fifth and most current Manual of Mental Disorders defines alcohol use disorder as having mild, moderate, and severe classifications. Anyone who meets any two of 11 criteria during the same 12-month period would receive a diagnosis of alcohol use disorder, and its severity depends on the number of criteria met. Examples of those criteria:

  • Had times when you ended up drinking more, or longer than you intended.

  • More than once gotten into situations while or after drinking that increased your chances of getting hurt (such as driving, swimming, using machinery, walking in a dangerous area, or having unsafe sex).

  • Had to drink much more than you once did to get the effect you want? Or found that your usual number of drinks had much less effect than before.

I'd venture to say that many people who consume alcohol regularly have experienced one of these as a result, and that most have experienced other, even more subtle negative consequences, such as difficulty sleeping. That doesn't mean they suffer from alcohol use disorder; my point is that most of us have had at least a brush with alcohol's destructive side.

Again, I'm not anti-alcohol. I think it’s important, pleasurable, and perfectly healthy for those who can manage it consistently well. But I'm also glad that there’s increasingly more room to talk about the many and nuanced ways in which it’s hard to do that.

Want to build a sober-curious bar of your own? Here are a few of our favorites to get you started:

  • Brooklyn Brewed Sorrel “The florally sweet, rich, and complex, hibiscus-spiced, brewed and aged alcohol-free beverage based on a family recipe with its more than 400-year Caribbean heritage. For happier, healthier, more connected drinking.”

  • CAnE Collective  Mixers created to bring the experience of craft bartending directly to people’s homes. Combine with spirits or enjoy with soda water for a delightful non-alcoholic drink.

  • Athletic Brewing Company A less than 0.5% beer that tastes like a traditional beer. 

  • Perfect Coupe Glass “Looks beautiful, sounds classy and makes any drink look like a million dollars. These glasses have a unique refraction and brilliance and are perfectly balanced in size and weight. Optimally designed for signature cocktails.” (From our friends House of Brinson!)

  • Horse Cocktail Picks Adds an extra touch of fun. (Also from House of Brinson!)

  • Good Drinks A great bar deserves a great cocktail book. Enjoy!

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