Bottled cocktails for the wine shelf. Stirred, batched and rested like the originals, then poured cold from the bottle.
You are reading this because a box arrived. Everything you tasted is on the shelf below, on trade terms held to the end of the year.
Small enough that customers try it on a Friday and come back the next. Big enough that it doesn't feel like a sample.
Mixed cases from twelve. Free shipping over £300. No tiers. No negotiation. No surprises.
Embossed glass, brass cap, paper labels. They sit happily next to wine. Customers pick them up without being asked.
Christmas hampers, birthdays, dinner-party guests, the friend with the new flat. The bottle that gets opened, not stored.
Shared photography, newsletter mentions, Instagram features at launch and through gifting season. POS assets now, if wanted. Eight years at Fortnum & Mason, where we won their Product of the Year in 2025, and the same partnership with every retailer: working with you on what is moving in your shop, what your customers ask for, what to try next. We are a husband and wife. You email us, you get one of us.
The drink everyone orders second. London Dry gin, Campari, two Italian sweet vermouths, blended in ten-litre batches and rested six weeks until the bitter softens and the sweet deepens. Pour over a big rock of ice with an orange peel. Bracing on the first sip. By the third, you will wonder how you lived without it.
Rye whiskey, two vermouths, a dash of bitters, rested six weeks. The Negroni's older, more serious cousin.
Aged rum, demerara, bitters. Long. Slow. Drinks like a fireside conversation.
Ordered by Bond in Casino Royale, 1953. His Kina Lillet hasn't existed in fifty years and the drink died with it. We have brought it back. Cold from the freezer into a chilled coupe with a thin slice of lemon peel. Stirred, not shaken. Bond had it wrong.
A Brooklyn cocktail in the Manhattan family. Rye, Punt e Mes, maraschino, stirred and rested. Darker, drier, more interesting.
Sake leads, gin supports. Floral, almost dry. The salted cherry blossom for garnish comes in the box.
Invented at Fred's in Soho, 1983, when a model walked in and asked for something to wake her up. Hand-pulled Monmouth espresso, our own vodka, a coffee liqueur where the sugar syrup used to be. Shake hard, twenty seconds. Drink it after dinner instead of the espresso. Or instead of the dinner.
The Corpse Reviver No. 2 in fancy dress. Gin, Myatt's Lemon, blue curaçao, a whisper of absinthe. Sharp, citrussy, sky-blue.
Equal parts mezcal, yellow Chartreuse, Aperol, lime. Smoky, herbal, bitter, bright. A modern classic most home bars get wrong.
Lifted from the 1937 Café Royal Cocktail Book, where it lives under the name Picador. Silver tequila, triple sec, agave, and our own Myatt's Sours doing the work of fresh lime. Pour straight from the freezer into a chilled coupe. Skip the salt rim. The Margarita as the 1930s drank it. Sharp, dry, dangerously easy.
Born at our wedding in Joshua Tree. Tequila in the gin's place. Nobody drinks gin in the desert.
Gin, lychee liqueur, a touch of dry vermouth. Floral, just-sweet, bottled cold. A Martini that drinks like spring.
Mixed cases from twelve. Pick by number, in any combination.
"Ahead of the curve."
Oscar Dodd · Spirits Buyer · Fortnum & Mason
Stocked at Fortnum & Mason for eight years, where the range won Product of the Year in 2025.
Get in touch when you would like a sample case. We send the full twelve, you taste what fits your shop, and we take it from there.
Cyrus & Clemency