The art of the bar cart

Whether we’ve got Mad Men or lockdown-inspired home boozing to thank, one thing is clear: the drinks trolley, or bar cart, is back. Interior design websites and social media are awash with them. And that means suddenly the bottle is becoming as important as the drink.

Design agency Stranger and Stranger (motto: ‘Don’t fit in. Stand out’) has legions of clients, celebrities first in line, all vying to make their bottle the most beautiful. Brad Pitt (‘A dreamer, a visionary’, according to his drink’s packaging) had them encase his Gardener gin in pastel hues evocative of the French Riviera. (Not to be outdone, Brooklyn Beckham came knocking, deciding he needed a fitting phial for his elixir. Only his creation wasn’t booze but hot sauce. As ever, Julie Burchill had him sussed.)

In the drinks business, packaging has always been important. Imagine if booze, like fags, had to be contained in identikit bottles bearing only photos of diseased livers, or of you asleep on the loo having thrown up on yourself after a cracking night. It would reduce the amount of alcohol we consume – and cause at least half the new artisanal brands to implode. It would also make life that bit greyer and less worth living. 

With people willing to splash out ever larger amounts on upmarket spirits without a commensurate increase in understanding about the product, packaging can become decisive. Friends happily spend upwards of £40 on bottles of gin that look the part when by taste they would struggle to distinguish them from Gordon’s (a not-be-sneered-at classic). And there’s little doubt that the sleek, cylindrical simplicity of Voss water is a large part of the reason it graces so many corporate conference tables.

So, what to buy that combines both form and function? Classics such as Noilly Prat and Cointreau have both French brasserie good looks and will get plenty of use in martinis, margaritas and cosmopolitans. Ditto Campari and Kahlúa for negronis and espresso martinis. Consider also Grand Marnier – or, even better, a Somerset cider brandy – for digestifs. Don’t stock Ciroc or Belvedere unless you want to give off Marbella nightclub vibes. And remember: a drinks trolley is for spirits. It’s not a wine rack or for plonking cartons of juice on. If you’ve got a guest hunting for a mimosa, direct them to the fridge. Chin chin.

Ten of the most beautiful bottles

Hepple gin

With all the bounty of Northumberland National Park on its doorstep, Hepple combines juniper with Douglas fir, lovage, bog myrtle and blackcurrant leaves. It’s a wild and winning combination. I’m also a big fan of Plymouth gin, with its pastel-green hues and heritage looks; for two centuries every newly commissioned Royal Navy ship received a Plymouth gin commissioning kit with two bottles, Navy strength. What else? Hawkridge Distillers have produced a lovely gin for Britain’s oldest caterers, Searcys, that evokes its Victorian roots. Hayman’s has a good claim to be the original family gin distiller and still comes up with the goods, as does cucumber and rose-perfumed Hendrick’s.

Portobello Road British potato vodka

There are now lots of British-made vodkas, from Black Cow, Chase and the Lakes to X Muse and Chapel Down’s Oxford Rye. Mermaid Salt vodka is certainly beautiful (and has a salinity perfect for a dirty martini). So is Pod Pea vodka, made with 100 per cent Suffolk-grown peas. But the prize goes to a vodka made on Notting Hill’s Portobello Road, each bottle containing 3kg of British spuds. It’s neutral and creamy, with a roaring lion on the label which looks the part.

Knightor’s rosso vermouth

For martinis you need a dry vermouth: there are the well-knowns (e.g. Noilly Prat) or the delightfully obscure (e.g. Wermod Great British vermouth). You’ll also need a sweet vermouth for Manhattans and negronis. Giuseppe Giusti vermouth – a champagne-bottle shaped beauty – is something special, aged in barrels that formerly stored balsamic vinegar for Modena’s oldest producer. It is hard to deny the Italian good looks of Cocchi Vermouth di Torino. Then there’s semi-sweet Sacred English amber vermouth whose fans include Dukes bar in St James’s. But my pick is rosso vermouth from Knightor on the Cornish coast. It’s full of gentle spice and a marmalade-like bitter sweetness.

Italicus rosolio di bergamotto

Among bitter apéritifs, Aperol might still reign supreme (PR agencies talk of the Aperol phenomenon as the holy grail of marketing), but the bottle is – outside of its Italian home – pretty naff. A better bet is this rosolio by Italicus, in a scalloped, aquamarine bottle and flavoured with bergamot, lavender, camomile and lemon balm. For a spritz, add prosecco and garnish with a green olive or combine with gin and vermouth for a negroni bianco.

The Hearach

This beautifully bottled Scotch from the Isle of Harris in the Outer Hebrides is matured in ex-bourbon, oloroso and fino sherry casks and is peaty, malty and spicy. Other worthy choices are elegant Laphroaig or the cocktail bar mainstay Hibiki Japanese Harmony.

Bozal

Tequila Clase Azul is all the rage, but their handmade bottles crafted in the town of Jesus Maria are too large and upset the balance of a trolley. Save it for a Day of the Dead party. I prefer Bozal, a mezcal from wild agave that grows along the hillsides of Oaxaca and Guerrero in southern Mexico. The slender, ceramic bottles are inspired by the terracotta copitas traditionally used to drink the spirit. It makes a memorable paloma or Oaxaca old fashioned.  Another wonderful option is Madre who produce both mezcal and tequila.

The Bitter Club

While angostura with its old world, apothecary-style charm takes some beating, there is a newer arrival to be excited about. British-made and in three flavours – grapefruit and elderberry, cinnamon and orange and hibiscus and rose – the Bitter Club bitters come in perfume-inspired dropper bottles and taste exceptional.

St-Germain

It’s easy to forget that until 2007 St-Germain didn’t exist. In a short space of time it has secured iconic status, the spirit equivalent of the Wolseley. That status owes much to the bottle – an Art Deco beauty that arrived at just the right time, when speakeasy bars were having a moment. Such is its popularity it quickly became known as ‘bartender’s ketchup’. On its own it is sickly sweet, but in cocktails the elderflower liqueur opens up a world of possibility.

Chambord

Brilliant value at just £8, it’s worth the money for the splendid orb-like bottle alone (Monty Python’s Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch comes to mind). Berries mixed with cognac produce the rich, inky black liqueur which is excellent for a twist on a classic cosmopolitan, or to make a kir royale.

Botivo

It’s only fair to have something for the teetotallers. Botivo do a bittersweet ‘botanical aperitivo’ which is excellent. The bottle label is also beautiful, depicting a joyous dinner party scene of what looks, ironically, like people getting raucously drunk. It could almost have been penned by Quentin Blake – after he had a few too many.