Elderflower & Raspberry
Elderflower and raspberry is one of those pairings that sounds like a summer dessert and turns out to be considerably drier than expected, mostly because the tonic underneath is doing the opposite of what the fruit suggests. Quinine is bitter and drying, and it holds the Chambord in check — without it this would be a very sweet drink indeed. The elderflower is the connecting element rather than a flavour in its own right: it is floral and honeyed and sits between the sharp raspberry and the bitter tonic, joining two things that would otherwise sit at opposite ends of the glass. Gin or vodka both work and they give genuinely different drinks. Gin adds juniper structure and makes it more of an aperitif; vodka steps back and lets the fruit run the whole thing. The measure of spirit is short at 35ml, which is deliberate — this is a drink built around the mixer, not around the alcohol.
Glassware: Copa Glass
Garnish: Lemon Wedge and Raspberries
Ingredients
150ml
The quinine is what keeps this drink from being a dessert. Elderflower cordial and soda in its place gives you the same flavours with none of the bitterness holding them together.
35ml
Gin makes it an aperitif — juniper gives the fruit something to lean on. Vodka makes it fruit-forward and softer. A short measure either way, because the mixer is the drink.
30ml
A black raspberry liqueur, and sweeter than its dark colour suggests. This is the ceiling rather than a starting point — past it, the tonic stops being able to balance the drink.
3
Muddle one, keep two whole. The crushed one does the flavouring; the whole ones keep the drink clear instead of pulpy.
Fill the glass
Cubed. There is real sugar in this from the liqueur, and a warm, dilute version turns syrupy rather than merely weak.
Instructions
Muddle one raspberry in the bottom of a copa glass.
Fill the glass with cubed ice.
Add the gin or vodka and the Chambord.
Top with the elderflower tonic, down the side of the glass.
Squeeze in a lemon wedge and drop in the two remaining raspberries.
Source: the producer's own published serve (Fever-Tree). Last checked 22 August 2026.
Expert Tip
Muddle one of the three raspberries against the bottom of the glass before you build, and leave the other two whole. The crushed one colours and flavours the drink; the whole ones stay intact and stop it turning cloudy and pulpy by the end. Chambord is sweeter than it looks. Two tablespoons is about 30ml and that is genuinely the ceiling — go further and the tonic can no longer hold it, and the drink tips from balanced into sticky. Squeeze the lemon wedge in. Elderflower and raspberry both bring sweetness and neither brings much acid, so a drink without it goes soft in the middle. It is the smallest ingredient here and it does the most.
Behind the Elderflower & Raspberry
Flavour Profile
Where Elderflower Comes From
Elderflower is a genuinely old British and northern European ingredient, gathered from hedgerows in early summer and steeped into cordials and country wines long before anyone bottled it commercially. The flowers have a very short season, which is why almost all of it is drunk as cordial rather than fresh.
Its move into cocktails is much more recent and can be dated fairly precisely: St-Germain launched in 2007 and elderflower went from a rural British cordial to a bar staple within a few years. Elderflower tonic follows that shift rather than leading it.
Why the Tonic Rather Than a Cordial
The obvious way to build this drink is elderflower cordial, raspberry liqueur and soda. It is sweeter than most people want and it has no structure.
Quinine changes the whole shape. It is bitter and drying and it arrives at the end, which means each mouthful finishes clean rather than sweet. That is what makes the drink work at a long measure instead of becoming hard going after the first third.
Elderflower as the Joint
Raspberry is sharp and bright. Quinine is bitter and dry. On their own they sit at opposite ends of the drink with a gap in the middle.
Elderflower is floral, honeyed and slightly muscat-like, and it occupies exactly that gap. It is doing structural work rather than adding another flavour, which is why substituting a different floral note — rose, say — does not produce the same drink.
More to explore
Frequently Asked Questions
Gin or vodka?
Can I use a different raspberry liqueur?
Why such a short measure of spirit?
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Gin & Tonic
The Gin & Tonic is medicine that stayed for the party. Quinine, the bitter bark extract that treated malaria across the British Empire, was so foul in solution that officers of the East India Company cut it with sugar, soda and their gin ration, and by the 1850s the treatment had become the drink. Modern tonic still carries a token dose of the original prescription: the bitterness is heritage rather than flavouring. It is the most ordered mixed drink in Britain and among the least considered. Two ingredients and ice leave nothing to hide behind: the gin has to be worth tasting, the tonic has to be fresh and properly carbonated, and one part gin to two of tonic keeps the drink a partnership rather than a dilution. The Spanish rebuilt the serve in the 2000s as gastronomy, and the copa balloon full of ice is the standard here: more ice than seems polite, tonic down the glass wall, and a garnish chosen rather than assumed.
Hugo Spritz
The Hugo Spritz is the Alps answering Venice: created in 2005 by Roland Gruber, a bartender in Naturns in South Tyrol, as a lighter alternative to the bitter spritzes ruling the south. Elderflower, prosecco, mint and soda, and the aperitivo hour gone alpine meadow. Gruber's original poured lemon balm syrup, and by his own account he named it Hugo more or less at random after rejecting Otto. The elderflower version conquered within the decade, carried along by the liqueur boom that started in 2007, and it took the name with it. It crossed into Germany and Austria first, then went everywhere prosecco pours. The build is meadow arithmetic. Twenty-five millilitres of elderflower is the spritz-length calibration, floral and present without tipping into pot-pourri; the mint is slapped rather than muddled; prosecco carries and soda lifts. It is the spritz for guests the Aperol bottle intimidates, and the politest aperitif of the summer.
Sloe Gin & Lemon Tonic
Sloe gin is not gin, which is the first thing worth knowing and the reason this drink behaves the way it does. It is a liqueur — sloes steeped in gin with sugar, usually landing somewhere around 25% — so it arrives sweet, soft, and considerably gentler than the spirit it started as. Put it in a long drink and the sweetness has nowhere to hide unless something sharp comes with it. Lemon tonic is that something. The citrus meets the sugar head-on and the quinine gives the whole thing a dry finish it would otherwise lack, leaving the sloe fruit — dark, plummy, faintly almond-like from the stones — sitting in the middle where it belongs. The result is low in alcohol and genuinely refreshing rather than merely sweet. It is an autumn drink by origin and a summer one by temperament, which is an unusual combination and part of why it works.
Where this one sits
Recipe by Dan Freeman