There’s an outlandish flex I’ve come to notice in recent years.
A decade ago, the bragging rights belonged to the person with the newest sneakers, the latest watch, or the coolest car. Today, the flex is quieter. It’s a sleek black card placed on the table, a machine that beeps once, and a bar bill that would have comfortably covered a weekend holiday not too long ago.
Welcome to the curious economics of the modern cocktail.
S. and I have known each other for years. She’s hardly someone you’d classify as a heavy drinker. But one particularly spirited Saturday evening stretched a little longer than expected. The next morning, between a throbbing headache and the ritual glass of water, she looked at the previous night’s bill.
₹49,890.
Just a long evening of cocktails shared among four friends and the hangover wasn’t the only thing that lingered.
Trying to make sense of a cocktail menu today often leads to one conclusion before you’ve even taken your first sip.
You’re no longer choosing between a Negroni and an Old Fashioned. You’re deciphering paragraphs about terroir, fermentation, sustainability, forgotten botanicals, locally foraged herbs, house clarifications, milk washes, smoke infusions, and a bartender’s philosophical interpretation of nostalgia.
“Of course I like a nice cocktail. But after a long, tiring day, do I really want to read through a list of ingredients and concepts behind the one cocktail I want to enjoy that night? I don’t think so,” says Rajan Sethi, Managing Director of Bright Hospitality.
It’s a fair question.
Because while the storytelling sounds enticing, it also raises another one.
How much of what you’re paying for is actually inside the glass?
The cocktail itself has undeniably changed.
A modern drink isn’t simply spirit, citrus and sugar anymore. It might involve clarified juices prepared over several hours, syrups made in-house, custom ice blocks, imported spirits, rare liqueurs, fat washing, fermentation, dehydration, or ingredients flown in from halfway across the world.
Every additional technique adds labour. Every ingredient adds cost.
And then there are the costs you never actually see.
Prime real estate, spiralling rents, rising liquor taxes, shiny glassware, staff training and more. They’re often labelled as “experience”
The cocktail has quietly become less of a beverage and more of a craft product. Last weekend, my dirty martini cost ₹950. By the time VAT and service charges entered the equation, I had crossed ₹1,100 for a single drink.
Did I enjoy it? Absolutely.
Did I spend the next morning wondering whether I enjoyed ₹1,100 worth of it? Also yes.
“If you’re only paying for the drink, then yes, sometimes it can feel expensive,” says Shekhar, Head Bartender at Refuge. “But if you’re walking into a place with genuine hospitality, quality ingredients, consistency, and a team that’s put a lot of thought into every cocktail, then you’re paying for much more than what’s in the glass.”
And that’s difficult to argue against.
Good hospitality has value. Skilled bartenders deserve to be paid well. Better ingredients cost more. Creating a memorable evening is, in itself, an investment.
But somewhere between craftsmanship and curation, cocktails also became lifestyle products. The drink now arrives with a story. The menu explains the philosophy. The bartender narrates the inspiration. Every element is carefully designed to make the experience feel unique. And, sometimes that narrative does genuinely elevate the drink. But, do keep in mind, it simply elevates the price as well.
The next time your eyes drift to the price column on the cocktail menu, ask yourself: are you paying for what’s in the glass, or everything built around it?
