There are cocktails, and then there are cocktails with a story, a past, a soul. The Aviation is one of those. It is a relic from the golden age of cock tails, when bartenders were craftsmen, not just guys in suspenders slinging overpriced Negronis. This drink has seen it all—Prohibition, neglect, a near-total disappearance—only to resurface decades later, a ghost of its former self, waiting for someone to rediscover what made it special in the first place.

Our story starts in the early 20th century when air travel was still a fantasy for most, an idea reserved for madmen and daredevils. The world was buzzing about the Wright brothers. Suddenly, the sky didn’t seem so far away.

Enter Hugo Ensslin, a German bartend er working the scene at the Hotel Wallick in New York. In 1916, he wrote about a drink that, in a way, captured the era’s newfound obsession with flight. It had gin—because, of course, it did—fresh lemon juice for bite, maraschino liqueur for depth, and crème de violette, a floral French liqueur that gave the cocktail its signature pale blue hue, like the fading light at 30,000 feet. He called it the Aviation, and for a time, it took off.

But like many good things, it didn’t last.

Prohibition came along and ruined classic cocktails. People were too busy choking down bathtub gin to care about nuance, and the Aviation, like so many drinks of the era, was left behind.

Even after Prohibition ended, there was another problem: crème de violette disappeared from the American market. Without it, bartenders kept making a stripped-down version—gin, lemon, maraschino—a good drink but a shadow of what it once was. It became the equivalent of an airsoft rifle to an AR-15. Something was missing.

By the time Harry Craddock published The Savoy Cocktail Book in 1930, he had left out crème de violette from the Aviation’s recipe, and this incomplete version became the one most people knew. The Aviation went from a sky-colored beauty to a murky gin sour with a cherry. It was forgotten, collecting dust in the cocktail archives, waiting for someone to care.

Fast forward to the early 2000s, when cocktail culture started getting its act together. Bartenders were no longer just pouring vodka sodas for hedge fund bros; they were diving deep into history, digging up old recipes, and figuring out what had been lost. Someone, somewhere, stumbled across Ensslin’s original Aviation and realized what was missing. Then, by some small miracle, Rothman & Winter decided to bring back crème de violette, and just like that, the original Aviation was back in business.

Now it’s on cocktail menus everywhere, sometimes in its true form, sometimes bastardized beyond recognition. But when it’s done right, the Aviation is a thing of beauty—delicate, complex, a little floral, but with enough punch to remind you that you’re drinking something with history.

A well-made Aviation isn’t just a cocktail; it’s a statement. It’s a reminder that drinks used to be an art form, that flavors were layered, balanced, thoughtful. It’s a taste from a time when people dressed up for a f light, when the idea of soaring through the clouds still felt magical.

So, order one from a bartender who knows what he’s doing. Watch as he shakes it with precision, strains it into a chilled coupe, and slides it across the bar to you. Take a sip. Close your eyes. That’s history in a glass. ●

Ingredients:

2 oz gin–A high-quality London Dry or Old Tom gin works best.

1 oz maraschino liqueur–Luxardo is the go-to brand for an authentic taste.

0.5 oz crème de violette–This gives the drink its signature color and floral essence.

1 oz fresh lemon juice–Always freshly squeezed for the perfect citrus balance.

Garnish–Luxardo cherry or a lemon twist.

Instructions:

Fill a cocktail shaker with ice. Add gin, maraschino liqueur, crème de violette, and fresh lemon juice. Shake vigorously for about 15 seconds until well-chilled. Double strain into a chilled coupe or martini glass. Garnish with a Luxardo cherry (dropped in the glass) or a lemon twist for a zesty touch.

Pro tips:

No crème de violette? The cocktail will still be delicious, but it will lack its signature purple hue. Alternatives include Crème de cassis and St Germain. Chilling the glass beforehand enhances the experience. For a lighter touch, some bartenders prefer reducing the maraschino to 0.25 oz.