The Menu

A Paper Plane variation substituting ruby red grapefruit juice for lemon — the result is rounder, more perfumed, and distinctly pink. The bitterness of Aperol and Amaro Nonino remains, but the grapefruit softens the edges into something almost floral.

Some problems are not to be solved in a hurry. High West Campfire — a blend of bourbon, rye, and peated Scotch — is already doing three things at once before the bitters arrive. Demerara holds it together. Applewood smoke closes the case.

A rye Manhattan with Turkish tobacco bitters and a smoked cherry. The smoke from the glass carries through the drink — the smoked-cherry technique is the signature of this build. Mycroft's preferred method: precise, unhurried, and more powerful than it appears.

A lighter Boulevardier riff that swaps Campari for Aperol — the result is less aggressive, more approachable, with a citrus brightness that suits the address. Finished with an orange garnish that ties the whole thing together.

Rittenhouse rye meets Amaro Montenegro and fresh lemon juice in a drink that balances bitter, citrus, and spice with uncommon precision. An optional egg white rounds the texture without softening the argument.

The moors at midnight, rendered in a glass. Islay peat and Lapsang Souchong tea conjure the fog-shrouded Devonshire landscape — honey softens the bite, lemon cuts through the smoke, and a dash of Hellfire bitters provides the beastly kick.

London Dry Gin, Blue Curaçao, Luxardo Maraschino, fresh lemon, and orange bitters combine in a brilliant sapphire cocktail whose deceptive simplicity conceals remarkable depth.

The Napoleon of Crime does not announce himself. Sazerac rye and Carpano Antica lay the foundation, Amaro Nonino and black walnut bitters work quietly in the dark, and a trace of absinthe on the glass is the only sign he was ever there.

An American heiress at Baker Street, and in no hurry to apologise for it. Laird's Applejack and bourbon bring the frontier, a thread of Ardbeg smoke marks her brush with the British aristocracy, and demerara and Angostura hold the match together.

tart, bright, dry

Rum-forward daiquiri riff — bright grapefruit and lime cut by cherry liqueur and a whisper of saline.

A Paper Plane variation substituting ruby red grapefruit juice for lemon — the result is rounder, more perfumed, and distinctly pink. The bitterness of Aperol and Amaro Nonino remains, but the grapefruit softens the edges into something almost floral.

A rye Manhattan with Turkish tobacco bitters and a smoked cherry. The smoke from the glass carries through the drink — the smoked-cherry technique is the signature of this build. Mycroft's preferred method: precise, unhurried, and more powerful than it appears.

A Brown Derby built for the good doctor — dependable, well-constructed, and better than it has any right to be. Cask-strength bourbon meets fresh pink grapefruit and an Earl Grey honey syrup that rewards the extra work of making it.

Rittenhouse rye meets Amaro Montenegro and fresh lemon juice in a drink that balances bitter, citrus, and spice with uncommon precision. An optional egg white rounds the texture without softening the argument.

The moors at midnight, rendered in a glass. Islay peat and Lapsang Souchong tea conjure the fog-shrouded Devonshire landscape — honey softens the bite, lemon cuts through the smoke, and a dash of Hellfire bitters provides the beastly kick.

London Dry Gin, Blue Curaçao, Luxardo Maraschino, fresh lemon, and orange bitters combine in a brilliant sapphire cocktail whose deceptive simplicity conceals remarkable depth.

The Napoleon of Crime does not announce himself. Sazerac rye and Carpano Antica lay the foundation, Amaro Nonino and black walnut bitters work quietly in the dark, and a trace of absinthe on the glass is the only sign he was ever there.

An American heiress at Baker Street, and in no hurry to apologise for it. Laird's Applejack and bourbon bring the frontier, a thread of Ardbeg smoke marks her brush with the British aristocracy, and demerara and Angostura hold the match together.

A smoky whiskey sour built around Holmes' own favorite tea — peaty Scotch, Lapsang Souchong, honey, and lemon.

The world's only consulting detective, rendered in gin. London Dry, dry vermouth, and a quarter-ounce of Bénédictine. The herbal honey sits just beneath the surface, the way the clue no one else noticed does. Orange bitters, stirred until very cold, finished with a lemon expression. Crisp, exacting, and quietly more complex than it first appears.

tart, bright, dry

Rum-forward daiquiri riff — bright grapefruit and lime cut by cherry liqueur and a whisper of saline.

A Paper Plane variation substituting ruby red grapefruit juice for lemon — the result is rounder, more perfumed, and distinctly pink. The bitterness of Aperol and Amaro Nonino remains, but the grapefruit softens the edges into something almost floral.

Some problems are not to be solved in a hurry. High West Campfire — a blend of bourbon, rye, and peated Scotch — is already doing three things at once before the bitters arrive. Demerara holds it together. Applewood smoke closes the case.

A Brown Derby built for the good doctor — dependable, well-constructed, and better than it has any right to be. Cask-strength bourbon meets fresh pink grapefruit and an Earl Grey honey syrup that rewards the extra work of making it.

A lighter Boulevardier riff that swaps Campari for Aperol — the result is less aggressive, more approachable, with a citrus brightness that suits the address. Finished with an orange garnish that ties the whole thing together.

Rittenhouse rye meets Amaro Montenegro and fresh lemon juice in a drink that balances bitter, citrus, and spice with uncommon precision. An optional egg white rounds the texture without softening the argument.

The moors at midnight, rendered in a glass. Islay peat and Lapsang Souchong tea conjure the fog-shrouded Devonshire landscape — honey softens the bite, lemon cuts through the smoke, and a dash of Hellfire bitters provides the beastly kick.

London Dry Gin, Blue Curaçao, Luxardo Maraschino, fresh lemon, and orange bitters combine in a brilliant sapphire cocktail whose deceptive simplicity conceals remarkable depth.

The Napoleon of Crime does not announce himself. Sazerac rye and Carpano Antica lay the foundation, Amaro Nonino and black walnut bitters work quietly in the dark, and a trace of absinthe on the glass is the only sign he was ever there.

A smoky whiskey sour built around Holmes' own favorite tea — peaty Scotch, Lapsang Souchong, honey, and lemon.

The world's only consulting detective, rendered in gin. London Dry, dry vermouth, and a quarter-ounce of Bénédictine. The herbal honey sits just beneath the surface, the way the clue no one else noticed does. Orange bitters, stirred until very cold, finished with a lemon expression. Crisp, exacting, and quietly more complex than it first appears.

A Paper Plane variation substituting ruby red grapefruit juice for lemon — the result is rounder, more perfumed, and distinctly pink. The bitterness of Aperol and Amaro Nonino remains, but the grapefruit softens the edges into something almost floral.

Some problems are not to be solved in a hurry. High West Campfire — a blend of bourbon, rye, and peated Scotch — is already doing three things at once before the bitters arrive. Demerara holds it together. Applewood smoke closes the case.

A rye Manhattan with Turkish tobacco bitters and a smoked cherry. The smoke from the glass carries through the drink — the smoked-cherry technique is the signature of this build. Mycroft's preferred method: precise, unhurried, and more powerful than it appears.

A Brown Derby built for the good doctor — dependable, well-constructed, and better than it has any right to be. Cask-strength bourbon meets fresh pink grapefruit and an Earl Grey honey syrup that rewards the extra work of making it.

A lighter Boulevardier riff that swaps Campari for Aperol — the result is less aggressive, more approachable, with a citrus brightness that suits the address. Finished with an orange garnish that ties the whole thing together.

Rittenhouse rye meets Amaro Montenegro and fresh lemon juice in a drink that balances bitter, citrus, and spice with uncommon precision. An optional egg white rounds the texture without softening the argument.

The moors at midnight, rendered in a glass. Islay peat and Lapsang Souchong tea conjure the fog-shrouded Devonshire landscape — honey softens the bite, lemon cuts through the smoke, and a dash of Hellfire bitters provides the beastly kick.

London Dry Gin, Blue Curaçao, Luxardo Maraschino, fresh lemon, and orange bitters combine in a brilliant sapphire cocktail whose deceptive simplicity conceals remarkable depth.

An American heiress at Baker Street, and in no hurry to apologise for it. Laird's Applejack and bourbon bring the frontier, a thread of Ardbeg smoke marks her brush with the British aristocracy, and demerara and Angostura hold the match together.

A smoky whiskey sour built around Holmes' own favorite tea — peaty Scotch, Lapsang Souchong, honey, and lemon.

The world's only consulting detective, rendered in gin. London Dry, dry vermouth, and a quarter-ounce of Bénédictine. The herbal honey sits just beneath the surface, the way the clue no one else noticed does. Orange bitters, stirred until very cold, finished with a lemon expression. Crisp, exacting, and quietly more complex than it first appears.

tart, bright, dry

Rum-forward daiquiri riff — bright grapefruit and lime cut by cherry liqueur and a whisper of saline.

Some problems are not to be solved in a hurry. High West Campfire — a blend of bourbon, rye, and peated Scotch — is already doing three things at once before the bitters arrive. Demerara holds it together. Applewood smoke closes the case.

A rye Manhattan with Turkish tobacco bitters and a smoked cherry. The smoke from the glass carries through the drink — the smoked-cherry technique is the signature of this build. Mycroft's preferred method: precise, unhurried, and more powerful than it appears.

A Brown Derby built for the good doctor — dependable, well-constructed, and better than it has any right to be. Cask-strength bourbon meets fresh pink grapefruit and an Earl Grey honey syrup that rewards the extra work of making it.

A lighter Boulevardier riff that swaps Campari for Aperol — the result is less aggressive, more approachable, with a citrus brightness that suits the address. Finished with an orange garnish that ties the whole thing together.

The Napoleon of Crime does not announce himself. Sazerac rye and Carpano Antica lay the foundation, Amaro Nonino and black walnut bitters work quietly in the dark, and a trace of absinthe on the glass is the only sign he was ever there.

An American heiress at Baker Street, and in no hurry to apologise for it. Laird's Applejack and bourbon bring the frontier, a thread of Ardbeg smoke marks her brush with the British aristocracy, and demerara and Angostura hold the match together.

A smoky whiskey sour built around Holmes' own favorite tea — peaty Scotch, Lapsang Souchong, honey, and lemon.

The world's only consulting detective, rendered in gin. London Dry, dry vermouth, and a quarter-ounce of Bénédictine. The herbal honey sits just beneath the surface, the way the clue no one else noticed does. Orange bitters, stirred until very cold, finished with a lemon expression. Crisp, exacting, and quietly more complex than it first appears.

tart, bright, dry

Rum-forward daiquiri riff — bright grapefruit and lime cut by cherry liqueur and a whisper of saline.