Alaska

Two Bottles

The Alaska asks very little: two bottles, a mixing glass, a bar spoon, and enough patience to stir it properly. What it returns is genuine complexity and quiet authority: proof of how much two well-chosen ingredients can achieve when treated correctly. Both are assertive and complex enough to dominate a lesser pairing. They are assertive in different directions, the gin dry, botanical, and juniper-forward, the Chartreuse sweet, herbal, and honeyed, and they meet in the glass to produce something neither achieves alone.

Yellow Chartreuse

The green version is more famous and more commercially visible; yellow exists in its shadow and is frequently overlooked, an error worth correcting. It is produced at the same Grande Chartreuse monastery near Grenoble by the same Carthusian monks, to a recipe dating from 1838, a century after the green, with a different selection of the monastery’s 130 botanicals at 40% ABV rather than 55%. Where green leads with intensity, herbal aggression, and a medicinal edge, yellow leads with sweetness, honey, and a softer botanical complexity built around chamomile, saffron, and alpine flowers. In the Alaska, yellow is the right choice and the original choice; green at the same ratio is considerably more challenging and more one-dimensional.

The Orange Bitters

Orange bitters in a drink this spirit-forward are doing precise and necessary work: without them the Alaska is two spirits in a glass. They provide a bridge, a citrus aromatic connecting the botanical dryness of the gin to the sweetness of the Chartreuse without competing with either, present in the nose before the first sip, tying the finish together so it feels complete rather than abrupt. Two dashes is the standard measure. The bitters should be felt rather than tasted; if you can identify them as a distinct flavour, you have used too many.

The Ratio Question

There is no single correct answer. Jacques Straub’s original recipe called for equal parts; subsequent versions moved toward two to one in favour of gin, now the modern standard; some prefer three to one for a drier result. Each produces a genuinely different drink: equal parts is the sweetest and most Chartreuse-forward, two to one keeps the gin clearly in front with the Chartreuse in support, and three to one leaves the Chartreuse as a background note. Two to one is the best starting point, the most balanced expression of both; from there, adjusting is not experimentation but calibration to your palate.

The Stir

The Alaska is stirred for the same reasons as the Bijou and the Martinez. Shaking would aerate it into a cloudy, lighter result that works against its silky, spirit-forward character; stirring maintains clarity, a denser texture, and controlled dilution that integrates the two spirits. Stir for the full 30 to 40 seconds. Under-stirred, the combination of high-ABV gin and 40% Chartreuse is harsh; properly diluted, it becomes smooth, integrated, and quietly impressive. The stir requires patience rather than skill.

Why It Is Named Alaska

Nobody knows. The drink has no documented connection to the state, no cold-weather or frontier origin story, no bartender associated with Anchorage or Juneau. The name appeared in print in 1914 and has never been satisfactorily explained. What the name does is set an expectation of cold and clean and remote that the drink, in its own way, delivers. It is not a warm drink or a sociable one; it rewards solitude and attention. Whether that was the intention or a fortunate coincidence is a question the historical record has declined to answer.

Frequently Asked Questions