Spritz Blog — Cocktail Recipes

Berry Barron

Fri, 05 Jun 2026 00:00:00 GMT

This drink exists because of a bottle, not a plan. I picked up some Chambord with no particular cocktail in mind, opened Spritz, and asked it to build something from what was actually on my shelf. It came back with this: bourbon, Chambord, Angostura, orange. Stirred, over ice, done. The app even named it — the Berry Barron — and honestly, the name fits. It drinks like an Old Fashioned that owns a velvet smoking jacket.

What hooked me is how little it asks of you. There's no syrup to make, no fruit to muddle, nothing to juice. Every ingredient comes straight out of a bottle, which means the gap between "I want a drink" and "I have a drink" is about ninety seconds. It's the rare spirit-forward cocktail you can make on a whim at 9pm on a Tuesday without turning the kitchen into a project.

Four bottles, a stir, and an orange slice — it drinks fancy, but it's a weeknight pour.

The structure is pure Old Fashioned logic: spirit, sweetener, bitters, citrus oil. Chambord just happens to be doing two jobs at once — it's the sugar and the flavor. That's also where the one real gotcha lives. Chambord is sweeter than it tastes straight from the bottle, and it sneaks up on you in the glass. The 2:1 bourbon-to-Chambord ratio is deliberate; nudge it any further toward the berry side and the whole thing tips into dessert. Hold the line at two-to-one and the bourbon stays in charge, with the black raspberry rounding out the edges instead of running the show.

Why this works

Chambord is a black raspberry liqueur built on a cognac base, so it brings sweetness with some weight behind it — closer to a fortified fruit than a candy syrup. Against bourbon's vanilla and oak, the dark berry reads rich rather than bright, which is why this drink works stirred and brown-spirits-style instead of shaken and juicy. The Angostura does the same job it does in an Old Fashioned: its baking-spice bitterness keeps the sweetness honest and stops the finish from going flat. And the orange slice isn't decoration — the citrus oil on the surface ties the berry and the oak together on the nose before you ever take a sip.

Tips & variations

No Chambord? Use berry syrup — but less of it: A raspberry or blackberry syrup gets you in the neighborhood, but it has no booze and no cognac backbone to balance the sugar. Start with half as much, stir, taste, and adjust. Going one-for-one with syrup will land you in cough-medicine territory.
Hold the 2:1 ratio: If you're tempted to add more Chambord because you love the berry note, resist. The drink's whole trick is staying an Old Fashioned that happens to taste like raspberries — not a raspberry drink with whiskey in it.
Strain over fresh ice: The recipe says it for a reason. Your stirring ice has done its job and is half-melted; a fresh, solid cube in the rocks glass keeps the dilution slow so the last sip is as good as the first.

Make it in Spritz

This recipe is proof of the pitch: Spritz looked at my bar and handed me a drink I'd never have thought to make. Add what's on your shelf to My Bar and the app will tell you whether the Berry Barron is makeable right now — and if it is, it'll scale the ratios if you're pouring for two, keep it saved in your collection, and let you share the recipe card with whoever asks what they're drinking.

Open this recipe in Spritz →

Carajillo Old Fashioned

Thu, 04 Jun 2026 00:00:00 GMT

The drink lands in the glass with the confidence of an Old Fashioned and the aroma of an after-dinner coffee. That is the whole reason this one is worth chasing: it sounds a little too obvious on paper, then shows up darker, rounder, and more grown-up than the name suggests.

I first saw this Carajillo Old Fashioned through The Educated Barfly, who credited the idea back to a bar build. It had the kind of premise that makes you stop scrolling if you already love both drinks. A Carajillo has that bright coffee-and-vanilla lift; an Old Fashioned has the slow, whiskey-forward weight. Putting them together is not subtle, but it is very reasonable.

This version is a delight, though it is honest about what it is. It does not fully scratch the Carajillo itch if what you want is that sweet, espresso-liqueur glow front and center. It leans more like a stirred whiskey drink with coffee and Licor 43 tucked into the finish, and I liked that about it.

This is more Old Fashioned than Carajillo, but the coffee and Licor 43 make the landing softer.

The main technique note is simple: stir it like you mean it. A short stir will leave the drink hot and a little disjointed, because rye, Cognac, coffee liqueur, and Licor 43 all need dilution to settle into one glass. Give it enough time over ice to round off the edges, then pour it over fresh ice in a chilled rocks glass.

If you want the drink to lean harder into Carajillo territory, bump the coffee liqueur and Licor 43 slightly. I would not replace the Licor 43, though. Its vanilla-citrus sweetness is the bridge between coffee and whiskey here; without it, the drink becomes a coffee Old Fashioned, which is good, but not this.

Why this works

Rye gives the drink structure, Cognac adds body, and the coffee liqueur brings the roasted note that makes the whole idea click. Licor 43 keeps the coffee from going too dark by adding vanilla, citrus, and sweetness. Stirring matters because this is a spirit-forward build: dilution is not just about making it colder, it is what makes the whiskey, Cognac, and liqueurs taste like one cocktail instead of four ingredients sharing a glass.

Tips & variations

Make it more Carajillo-forward: Increase the coffee liqueur and Licor 43 a touch if you want the drink sweeter, rounder, and more clearly in that after-dinner coffee lane.
Do not skip the Licor 43: This is the ingredient that keeps the riff connected to a Carajillo. Without it, the drink loses the vanilla-citrus lift that makes the build feel intentional.
Use the stir as your adjustment dial: If the cocktail tastes sharp, it probably needs more dilution. Stir a little longer before changing the recipe.

Make it in Spritz

Spritz keeps this kind of riff easy to revisit: save the Carajillo Old Fashioned to favorites, scale it if you are making a round, and check whether your bar already has the whiskey, Cognac, coffee liqueur, and Licor 43 ready to go. You can also share it straight from the app when someone asks what exactly you just made.

Open this recipe in Spritz ->

Old Cuban

Thu, 04 Jun 2026 00:00:00 GMT

A good Old Cuban looks like it dressed up before coming over. It has the mint-and-lime snap you expect from a rum drink, but the Champagne top turns it into something cleaner, taller, and a little more polished than the usual shaken backyard situation.

This one came from a set of cocktail cards a friend had, which is exactly the kind of low-pressure discovery I like. You see the card, realize you already have the ingredients, and suddenly a regular night has a coupe glass in it. The slogan practically writes itself: mojito energy, Champagne manners.

What makes the drink fun is that it feels familiar without being flat. The mint and lime make the first impression bright, Angostura gives the middle a little grip, and the sparkling wine keeps the finish from feeling syrupy. It is the kind of rum cocktail that works when you want something celebratory but do not want to get buried under juice.

The Old Cuban is mojito energy with Champagne manners.

The move I like here is tossing the squeezed lime shell into the mixing glass before muddling. It brings a little extra lime oil and peel character into the syrup and mint, which makes the finished drink taste more complete. Just do not punish the mint. A light muddle is enough; overdo it and the mint turns harsh in a way that bitters cannot rescue.

Champagne is great if you have it, but Prosecco is a practical substitute. The key is choosing something dry enough to keep the drink crisp. If the sparkling wine is too sweet, the simple syrup and rum can start pushing the whole thing into candy territory.

Why this works

The Old Cuban works because it treats mint and lime like aromatics, not just flavoring. Light muddling releases the fresh oils without dragging too much bitterness out of the mint. Rum gives the drink warmth, Angostura adds spice and structure, and the Champagne top lengthens everything so the cocktail finishes bubbly instead of heavy.

Tips & variations

Use the lime shell: After juicing, toss the shell into the mixing glass before muddling. It helps pull more lime aroma into the drink without changing the measured juice.
Muddle gently: Press the mint enough to wake it up, then stop. Over-muddled mint can taste sharp and vegetal.
Use Prosecco when needed: A dry Prosecco is the substitute I would actually use if Champagne is not around.

Make it in Spritz

Spritz is handy for a drink like the Old Cuban because it keeps the details from turning fuzzy: save it to favorites, scale it for a few coupes, check whether your bar has rum, mint, bitters, and bubbles, and share the recipe when someone asks why their mojito never looked this put-together.

Open this recipe in Spritz ->

Berry Basil Smash

Fri, 22 May 2026 00:00:00 GMT

The Spritz app ships with an AI mixologist: you tell it what's in your bar and what you want, and it builds you a drink. Ask it for a fruit-forward bourbon cocktail and it can hand you raspberries and basil.

It's a smart pairing. Bourbon and basil have a quiet, complementary relationship, and raspberries with basil already work together (caprese with berries instead of tomatoes is a real thing in good restaurants). Drop the three into a glass with a touch of lemon and simple, and the combination clicks.

The drink hides the whiskey the way a good fruit dessert hides its butter. You taste it, but you'd never order it as a whiskey drink. Bourbon drinkers don't expect raspberries. Raspberry drinkers don't expect whiskey. Both get a delightful surprise.

A whiskey drink that delights both whiskey drinkers and raspberry drinkers.

The one move that matters is not straining it. The seeds and berry pulp are the point. They give the drink body and they keep the basil's herbal edge in the glass instead of in a strainer's mesh. If you serve this strained, you've made flavored bourbon, which is a different drink and a worse one.

The other thing: do not substitute. If you don't have basil, this is not the recipe for you. Mint will work, mechanically, but it tilts the drink toward a mojito-with-bourbon, which is a fine drink but not this one. Basil's slight pepper is what bridges the raspberry's sweetness and the bourbon's caramel. Pull it and the whole bridge collapses. Go get basil.

Why this works

The raspberries are the volume; the bourbon is the weight; the basil is the bridge. Without the basil, raspberries and bourbon just sit next to each other in the glass: sweet, then strong, with nothing connecting them. Basil's slight pepper and faint pine resolves the gap. The half-ounce of lemon is the cleanup crew: it cuts the simple syrup so the drink doesn't read as dessert, and it keeps the raspberries from going jammy on the palate. The simple syrup is the smallest job in the build. It's there to round the lemon's edge, not to sweeten. Half an ounce, no more.

Tips & variations

Leave the pulp. Do not strain. The seeds and pulp are what give the drink texture and keep the basil oils in the glass. A clean strain makes it taste like spiced bourbon.
Push the basil for a more herbacious cut. If you want this drier and greener, take it from 4 leaves to 6 or 7. The drink starts to read more savory than sweet, which is great for a humid evening if you'd rather it not stay dessert-adjacent.
Press, don't shred. Bruise the basil between your palms before it touches the muddler. Over-muddling turns the leaves bitter and gives the drink a grassy off-note.

Make it in Spritz

The Spritz iOS app is where this recipe came from. The in-app AI mixologist suggested it when I gave it bourbon plus "fruit-forward." If you want it in your hand instead of on a screen: open the recipe in Spritz, tap to add raspberries + basil to your grocery list, scale the build to however many guests you have, and the app will tell you which bottles you're missing before you start.

Open this recipe in Spritz →

Cinnamon Sparkler

Fri, 22 May 2026 00:00:00 GMT

I asked the Spritz app's AI mixologist for a cocktail with cinnamon whiskey, mostly to see what it would do. Cinnamon whiskey is a category that mostly exists because of Fireball, and Fireball is mostly used in shot glasses by people who are not going to be okay tomorrow. I wanted to know if there was a real drink in there.

The app returned this one. It's three ingredients plus bitters, built directly in a champagne flute, no shaker, no juicing, and it feels intentional in a way that cinnamon whiskey almost never does. The cinnamon sits behind the champagne instead of in front of it. The simple syrup is a small assist; the orange bitters are the part that actually makes it a cocktail. It's the kind of drink that earns a spot in the holiday rotation.

It reads festive without falling into eggnog territory. No dairy, no whip, no heavy spice. You can have two and not feel like you've committed to dessert.

A drink that's holiday-coded without being eggnog.

The one move that matters is what kind of cinnamon whiskey you use. Anything but Fireball. Fireball is sweetened to be a shot; pour it into a champagne flute with simple syrup and you've made cough syrup. What you want is a real cinnamon-infused bourbon (Jim Beam Kentucky Fire is fine; better is whatever your local distillery makes), or, easiest, take any bourbon you already own and drop a cinnamon stick in it for 24 hours. The infusion is free and tastes better than any brand on the shelf.

If you don't have champagne, prosecco works. Cava and crémant also work; demi-sec or sweet styles do not. The drink needs the champagne to stay dry so the cinnamon whiskey has something to push against. With anything sweet on top, this drink becomes syrup.

Why this works

The cinnamon whiskey gives the drink a base. It's the only ingredient with body. The champagne is the volume and the temperature: 4 ounces of cold sparkling wine is what makes this a cocktail and not a sipping pour. The simple syrup is the smallest amount of help, half an ounce to round the bitters' edge so they don't read as medicinal. The orange bitters are the connective tissue between the cinnamon's warmth and the champagne's bread-and-yeast. Without them you have cinnamon whiskey topped with champagne; with them you have a drink.

Tips & variations

Anything but Fireball. Use a real cinnamon-infused bourbon. Kentucky Fire from Jim Beam works, or infuse your own with a cinnamon stick and 24 hours of patience. The drink will be twice the drink.
Drier champagne or prosecco, not sweet. Brut or extra-brut. The cinnamon whiskey + simple syrup already brings sweetness; if the bubbles add more, the drink collapses into syrup.
No NA version that really works. Without the cinnamon whiskey there is no drink. If you need NA, this is not the recipe. Make a different one.

Make it in Spritz

The Spritz iOS app holds the recipe, scales it for a party in one tap, and the in-app AI mixologist that suggested this drink can suggest what else to do with the cinnamon whiskey if you're new to the category. Save it, scale it, share it with anyone who's bored of plain champagne toasts.

Open this recipe in Spritz →

Tropical Fantasy

Fri, 22 May 2026 00:00:00 GMT

The mimosa is a classic for a reason: orange juice and champagne are a two-ingredient drink that nails the brunch toast every time. The Tropical Fantasy keeps that same easy energy and adds two more notes on top: amaretto for body, pineapple for a sunnier citrus edge.

The trick is the amaretto. Two ounces of an almond-and-vanilla liqueur gives the drink shoulders. Amaretto sits underneath the citrus and lets the champagne stay dry, so you taste pineapple first, then the almond round-out, then the champagne carries the whole thing off.

The brunch toast with a tropical-almond round-out.

The other thing worth knowing: pineapple juice from a can is great here. Canned pineapple juice has a consistent sweetness and a neutral fiber profile that behaves predictably in a build like this, which means you get the same drink every time. Save the manual juicing for cocktails where a fresh hit really matters.

The sub for amaretto, if you don't have it, is Frangelico. Different nut (hazelnut instead of almond) but the same weight class. The drink tips a little more autumnal, less almond-cookie and more roasted-nut-and-vanilla, but it holds together beautifully. What you can't do is swap the amaretto for an orange liqueur and call it the same drink. The almond depth is doing real work.

Why this works

The classic mimosa is built around two top-notes: bright citrus and crisp bubbles. The Tropical Fantasy keeps both and adds a bass note. Amaretto fills the lower register, giving the drink structure that holds up at temperature and survives a long brunch. The pineapple juice does double duty: it sweetens (which means you don't need any added sugar) and it brings tropical-fruit notes that bridge the amaretto's almond toward the OJ's brightness. The champagne is the carbonation, the cold, and the social signal; it's the volume, not the flavor.

Tips & variations

Canned pineapple juice is the right call here. Consistent sweetness, no fiber, no surprises. Fresh-juiced pineapple is great for a piña colada and overkill for a build-and-go champagne drink.
Brut champagne or skip it. Demi-sec, extra-dry, or sweet styles push this drink into dessert territory. The amaretto + pineapple + OJ are already sweet, so the bubbles need to be dry.
Scales easily for a pitcher. Pre-mix amaretto + pineapple + OJ in a pitcher in the fridge; top each glass with champagne at the table. Six servings, one pour-over per glass.

Make it in Spritz

The Spritz iOS app holds the recipe and scales the pitcher to 6 or 8 in one tap; the app does the math and adds anything you're missing to a grocery list.

Open this recipe in Spritz →

Tropical Rum Spritz

Fri, 22 May 2026 00:00:00 GMT

The Aperol Spritz earned its place. Bright, bitter-citrus, low-ABV, comes together in thirty seconds, tastes like summer. That's why it's everywhere. So when the Spritz app's AI mixologist suggested keeping the spritz silhouette but swapping the prosecco for rum, the idea was hard to resist.

The result is its own drink: a fun riff, not a replacement. Rum sits where prosecco used to but without the sweetness, so this version reads a little dryer and a little lighter on its feet. The Aperol has room to do its bitter-citrus work, and the lime cuts in cleaner than an orange wheel does. It's the spritz to keep in your back pocket when you want a small change from the original.

The hook is the bitterness. Rum drinks tend to lean sweet (daiquiri, mojito, mai tai, piña colada) and they're all great drinks. This one goes a different direction. The Aperol pulls the rum into bitter-citrus territory and the result is a long, cold sip you can stretch out across a whole afternoon.

Same spritz silhouette, a different angle on the Aperol.

The move that matters: fresh lime, not bottled. Bottled lime juice tastes like preservative against a drink this minimal. The whole build is four ingredients and one of them is soda water. There's nowhere to hide. Squeeze a wedge over the glass; it takes ten seconds.

The other thing: white rum, not aged. Aged rum's vanilla and oak start to talk over the Aperol. They bring their own bitter-sweet narrative and the drink gets a little crowded. White rum keeps things clean and lets the Aperol lead. Plantation 3 Stars or Bacardi Superior are both fine; you don't need to spend money here.

If you don't have Aperol, Campari is the closest sub: bitterer, darker, more grown-up. You're making a different drink at that point, but it's a fun one.

Why this works

The classic Aperol Spritz works on a sugar-bitter axis: prosecco's residual sugar against Aperol's bitterness. Rum brings a different kind of partner (molasses-adjacent body without the sweetness), so this version leans on the bitter side and the lime steps up to handle the citrus end. The soda water keeps it tall and effervescent. Same spritz silhouette, different shape inside.

Tips & variations

White rum only. Aged rum brings vanilla and oak that talk over the Aperol's herbal-bitter line. Plantation 3 Stars, Bacardi Superior, or any decent light rum under $25.
Fresh lime, no exceptions. Bottled juice has nowhere to hide in a four-ingredient build. Ten seconds with a wedge.
Push the rum to 2 ounces if you want it stronger. Drop the soda to 1 ounce. Heavier, less sessionable, still great.

Make it in Spritz

Save this one in the Spritz iOS app to add rum + Aperol to your bar, scale for a group, or just have the build on your phone next time you're at the grocery store.

Open this recipe in Spritz →