Before the mid-century ushered in an era of sugary, neon-colored mixers, early 20th-century bartenders relied on a brilliant shortcut for crafting complex drinks: the herbed liqueur. Enter the Kentucky Colonel.
First appearing in print in Jacques Straub’s 1914 manual Drinks, the Kentucky Colonel is an unapologetically rich, spirit-forward classic. Straub, a Swiss-born hospitality legend, spent years managing the renowned beverage program at Louisville’s Pendennis Club, the very birthplace of the Old Fashioned. It’s no surprise, then, that this drink plays in the exact same sandbox.
The Story Behind the Name
To understand the name, you have to look at the crowd sitting at Straub’s bar in 1914. A “Kentucky Colonel” isn’t a military rank; it’s the highest title of honor bestowed by the Governor of Kentucky. By the turn of the century, the archetype of the Kentucky Colonel was firmly cemented in American culture: a distinguished, smooth-talking Southern gentleman who loved horse racing, fierce hospitality and exceptional bourbon. There was even a popular joke circulating at the time: “The corn is full of kernels and the Colonels are full of corn.”
The Pendennis Club was the absolute epicenter of Kentucky high society and its membership rolls were packed to the brim with these literal and cultural Colonels. By naming the drink the Kentucky Colonel, Straub was playing into that bold, whiskey-loving archetype while giving Kentucky’s native spirit a sophisticated, European upgrade with a pour of French Bénédictine.
Breaking the Drink Down
Think of the Kentucky Colonel as a deeply complex, herbal Old Fashioned variation. Instead of standard simple syrup or a muddled sugar cube, legendary French Bénédictine steps up to act as the sole sweetening agent.
Because Bénédictine is infused with a secret blend of 27 roots, berries and botanicals, it does double duty. It doesn’t just soften the edges of a high-proof bourbon; it completely transforms the flavor profile, adding hints of honey, warm baking spices and saffron. It occupies the same brilliant family tree as the Improved Whiskey Cocktail or the classic Monte Carlo (which simply swaps the bourbon for rye). Because we aren’t hiding behind citrus juices or heavy modifiers, the quality of your bourbon is paramount here. Grab a bottle with a robust, oaky backbone that can stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the intense aromatics of the liqueur.
Hattip to The Drunkard’s Almanac, where I found the original recipe.
Ingredients for The Kentucky Colonel Cocktail
- 2 oz Bourbon (Look for a high-proof or bottled-in-bond option to balance the liqueur) I used a Private Barrel, Barrel Proof Elijah Craig
- ½ oz Bénédictine Liqueur
- 2–3 dashes Angostura Bitters (An extra dash of orange bitters adds a brilliant brightness)
- Garnish: Lemon twist
How to make The Kentucky Colonel Cocktail
- Combine the Spirits
Add the bourbon, Bénédictine and bitters into a mixing glass filled with plenty of clean ice. - Stir to Perfection
Stir continuously until the mixing glass is frosty and the liquid is thoroughly chilled and properly diluted. - Strain and Serve
Strain the cocktail into an Old Fashioned glass over a single large, slow-melting ice cube. - Express and Garnish
Twist a piece of fresh lemon peel over the top of the glass to express the bright citrus oils across the surface of the drink, then drop the twist right into the glass.
A Note on Bittering: While the historic 1914 spec relied strictly on the interplay of bourbon and Bénédictine, modern bartenders widely agree that a few dashes of aromatic or orange bitters are essential. They cut through the dense honeyed sweetness of the liqueur, knitting the wood notes of the whiskey and the alpine botanicals together into a seamless, warming slow-sipper.
Before I wrap this post… Ever wonder why the “R” in Colonel?
My Dad served as a Colonel in the US Army. If you have ever wondered why “colonel” is spelled with two L’s but pronounced like kernel, you can blame a centuries-old tug-of-war between Italian and French linguists. The rank originates from the Italian word colonnello (leader of a column of soldiers). When the French borrowed the term in the 1500s, they changed the first l to an r, giving us coronel, a linguistic process called dissimilation. English adopted this French “r” pronunciation, but a century later, English scholars insisted on restoring the original Italian spelling (colonel) to honor its roots. The result? English locked in the Italian spelling on paper, kept the French “r” sound on the tongue and left generations of us to explain it ever since.