Monte Carlo

Novice

The Monte Carlo is a Manhattan with Bénédictine where the vermouth should be. Rye, 15ml of the abbey liqueur, two dashes of Angostura, stirred. Nothing else. Bénédictine is doing two jobs that vermouth normally splits between itself and a sugar cube. It sweetens, and it brings a dense honeyed herbal character built on saffron, angelica and a long list of botanicals nobody outside the abbey has the full account of. That is a great deal of flavour for 15ml, which is why the measure is small and the rye is a full 60ml. The drink is preserved in David Embury's The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks from 1948, which is where most modern versions trace back to. The name suggests a casino and the drink delivers a fireside. It is warm, direct and slightly old-fashioned in temperament, and it is one of the easiest ways to understand what Bénédictine actually does.

StirredClassicSpirit-ForwardAfter-Dinner

Glassware: Rocks Glass

Garnish: Lemon Twist

Ingredients

Serves

Rye Whiskey

60ml

Rye rather than bourbon, and it matters here. Bénédictine is honeyed and thick, and bourbon’s own sweetness stacks on top until the drink turns syrupy. Rye pushes back where bourbon agrees.

Benedictine

15ml

The entire modification, doing what vermouth and sugar do together elsewhere. Honeyed, herbal and dense, built on saffron and angelica among a long list, and made at Fécamp in Normandy.

Angostura Bitters

2 dashes

Two dashes, bridging the grain and the herbs. Without it the drink reads as two separate things in one glass; the clove and cinnamon give the Bénédictine somewhere to attach.

Instructions

Add the rye, Bénédictine and Angostura to a mixing glass.

Fill the mixing glass with cubed ice and stir for 25 seconds.

Strain over one large cube in a rocks glass, or into a chilled coupe to serve it up.

Express a lemon twist over the surface and drop it in.

Expert Tip

Rye, not bourbon, and the reason is sweetness. Bénédictine is honeyed and thick, and bourbon's own vanilla and corn sugar stack on top of it until the drink turns syrupy. Rye's pepper is the counterweight that keeps it upright. If bourbon is what you have, cut the Bénédictine to 10ml. Fifteen millilitres is the working measure and it rewards precision. At 20ml the herbs take over and the whiskey becomes a background note; at 10ml you get a whiskey drink with a vague sweetness and no character. The gap between good and wrong here is about a barspoon. It takes very well to being served up rather than over ice, and the choice changes the drink more than you would expect. Over a large cube it is a slow, warm, fireside drink. Up in a chilled coupe it is sharper and more aromatic, and the herbs arrive first. Both are correct; they suit different evenings.

Flavour Profile

Rye SpiceHoneyHerbalWarmRich

Where It Comes From

The drink is preserved in David Embury's The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks, published in 1948, which is the citation most modern versions trace back to. Embury was a tax lawyer rather than a bartender, and his book is opinionated to the point of being combative, which is part of why it has lasted.

Where the drink came from before that is unclear. The name points at the casino, and plenty of period drinks borrowed glamorous place names with no connection to the place. We have found nothing that establishes an origin, and would rather say so than construct one.

Bénédictine Instead of Vermouth

A Manhattan is whiskey, sweet vermouth and bitters. Replace the vermouth with Bénédictine and almost everything changes.

Sweet vermouth is wine-based, relatively low in alcohol, and brings a light, slightly bitter herbal quality along with its sweetness. It sits behind the whiskey. Bénédictine is a spirit-based liqueur at around 40%, considerably sweeter, and its herbal character is dense and forward rather than supporting.

So the measure drops from a Manhattan's 30ml of vermouth to 15ml, and the whiskey rises to compensate. What you lose is the wine note that gives a Manhattan its slight dryness at the back. What you gain is honey, saffron and a warmth that vermouth never delivers.

What Bénédictine Actually Is

Bénédictine is a French herbal liqueur first sold commercially in the nineteenth century, based on a recipe with a monastic association and a famously guarded botanical list. Saffron and angelica are the two most often identified; the rest is not public.

For a drinker the useful description is simpler: it is sweet, thick, honeyed, and tastes of warm baking spice and something faintly medicinal underneath. It is very good in small measures and overwhelming in large ones.

This drink is one of the two or three best ways to meet it. There is nowhere for the bottle to hide behind other ingredients, so what you taste is genuinely what Bénédictine does to whiskey.

Its Relatives

The same idea appears across several drinks and comparing them is instructive.

The Bobby Burns is the Scotch version, usually with sweet vermouth alongside the Bénédictine rather than instead of it, which gives a softer and more layered result. The Vieux Carré uses both rye and cognac with vermouth and Bénédictine, and is considerably more complex. The Widow’s Kiss puts Bénédictine with calvados and yellow Chartreuse and is sweeter and heavier than any of them.

The Monte Carlo is the plainest statement of the pairing: whiskey, Bénédictine, bitters. If you want to understand what the liqueur contributes, this is the drink that shows you.

How to Serve It

Both ways are legitimate and they are genuinely different drinks.

Over one large cube in a rocks glass, it is slower, warmer and rounder. The dilution continues gently and the honey comes forward. This is the fireside version and the one most bars pour.

Up in a chilled coupe, it is colder, sharper and more aromatic. The herbs arrive first and the whiskey follows. It drinks faster and it flatters a good rye more.

Lemon twist either way, expressed over the surface. Orange is the obvious instinct with a honeyed drink and it is the wrong one; lemon's sharpness cuts the sweetness where orange would compound it.

The Spirit

Whiskey (Rye)

The whiskey the American classics were written for. Rye is dry and peppery where bourbon is sweet and broad, and a Manhattan or a Sazerac built on the wrong one is a noticeably different drink rather than a near miss.

Learn more

Frequently Asked Questions

What is a Monte Carlo cocktail?

A Manhattan variation using Bénédictine in place of sweet vermouth: 60ml rye, 15ml Bénédictine and two dashes of Angostura, stirred and served over a large cube or up. It is preserved in David Embury’s 1948 book.

What does Bénédictine taste like?

Sweet, thick and honeyed, with warm baking spice and something faintly medicinal underneath. Saffron and angelica are the two botanicals most often identified; the full recipe is not public. Very good in small measures, overwhelming in large ones.

Can I use bourbon instead of rye?

You can, but reduce the Bénédictine to 10ml if you do. Bourbon’s vanilla and corn sweetness stack on top of an already honeyed liqueur, and at the full measure the drink turns syrupy. Rye’s pepper is the counterweight.

Should it be served up or over ice?

Both are correct and they are different drinks. Over a large cube it is slower, warmer and rounder. Up in a chilled coupe it is sharper and more aromatic, with the herbs arriving first. Lemon twist either way.

Master the Techniques

Stirring vs Shaking: When to Use Each Technique

Bobby Burns

The Bobby Burns is the Rob Roy with a library card: Scotch and sweet vermouth as before, seasoned with a barspoon of Bénédictine, the honeyed herbal liqueur of the Norman abbeys, which rounds the drink into something warmer and more bookish than either parent. Harry Craddock, printing it in the Savoy Cocktail Book in 1930, called it one of the very best whisky cocktails ever made. Whether it honours Robert Burns the poet or a Robert Burns who sold cigars near the bar is one of those arguments the canon keeps for company. What is certain is the structure: a Manhattan template moved to Scotland, with the Bénédictine doing quietly what fernet does loudly in the Hanky Panky, its close cousin from the same hotel. It is also the rare classic with a date in its diary. Burns Night, the 25th of January, is its annual argument for existing, and a Bobby Burns after the haggis beats most speeches.

Old Fashioned

The Old Fashioned is the oldest documented cocktail in the American canon and the drink from which the word cocktail derives its original meaning. Its first print definition, in 1806, as a stimulating liquor composed of spirits, sugar, water, and bitters, describes the Old Fashioned before the name existed. The name came in the 1880s, when bartenders began adding fruit and soda to the format and drinkers who preferred the original asked for their cocktail the old-fashioned way. Three ingredients in their purest form: whiskey, sugar, and bitters; the expressed orange peel and the ice are conditions of the serve rather than additions. The simplicity is the entire point. Built properly, with a quality bourbon or rye, it is one of the most satisfying drinks in the canon; built badly, one of the most disappointing. Rye versus bourbon is the most common argument and the least interesting one. Both are correct. Rye produces a drier, spicier result where the bitters are more prominent; bourbon a rounder, sweeter one where the vanilla and caramel of the grain lead. What is a matter of correctness: sugar fully dissolved, bitters measured rather than dashed freely, and the drink stirred rather than shaken.

Vieux Carré

The Vieux Carré was created by Walter Bergeron, head bartender at the Hotel Monteleone in New Orleans, in the 1930s. The name means old square in French, for the French Quarter in which the hotel has sat since 1886. It is one of the most complex stirred drinks in the classical canon, built on a split base of rye whiskey and cognac with sweet vermouth and Bénédictine. That it is less widely known than the Sazerac or La Louisiane is a question of exposure rather than quality. The split spirit base is the structural decision that most defines the drink. Rye provides spice, grip, and a dry backbone; cognac provides dried fruit, warmth, and a roundness the rye alone could not achieve; at equal parts they produce a base more layered than either spirit at full volume. The bitters are where the versions part company. The official specification lists Peychaud's alone, where its anise and floral character sit directly against the Bénédictine. Bergeron's own build carried Angostura alongside it, in the New Orleans split-bitters tradition that also produced the Sazerac, and that version is below.