Chinese Cocktail

Grenadine, every time. It brings sugar and color and very little else, so 4 ml instead of 8 keeps the red without the syrup. Maraschino earns its place on aroma alone, and curaçao supplies the orange that ties the rum to the fruit. Cut those and the drink loses shape rather than sweetness.

It'll come out thin. With no barrel character underneath, you get a red liqueur drink rather than a rum one. Use the darkest aged bottle in the cupboard, or blend a bar spoon of something heavy into a lighter rum to give it a floor.

Yes, and that's deliberate. Maraschino is loud far out of proportion to its volume, all nutty stone fruit with a faint funk behind it. Push it to 8 ml and it swallows the rum. If you're pouring by eye, a scant bar spoon is close enough.

They do, and that is the trap in it. Sixty milliliters of rum plus three liqueurs puts this near a Manhattan in alcohol, but sugar rounds off the burn that would normally warn you. Small coupe, slow pace, and no treating it as a fruit drink.

A classic Chinese Cocktail calls for 60 ml (2 oz) Aged rum, 8 ml (0.25 oz) Triple sec / Cointreau, 4 ml (0.25 oz) Maraschino liqueur, 8 ml (0.25 oz) Grenadine, 1 dash Angostura Angostura bitters. That single-serve spec scales cleanly — the recipe above converts it to oz and multiplies it for 2–4 drinks.

A standard Chinese Cocktail is roughly 35% ABV once mixed (before ice melt softens it further). That makes it spirit-forward — closer to a Martini than to a beer, so sip it slowly.

A Chinese Cocktail is shaken. About 13 seconds with plenty of ice chills and dilutes it correctly.