Veteran-Owned British Spirits
Built Without Compromise

The Champs-Élysées first appeared in print in the 1927 cocktail book Here’s How, attributed to the anonymous “Barflies and Cocktails” collection published in Paris. The name signals its provenance clearly. This is a Parisian drink, built from French ingredients, that wears its origins without apology. At its core it is a Sidecar with green Chartreuse in place of Cointreau. That single substitution changes everything. Where the Sidecar is clean, citrus-forward, and accessible, the Champs-Élysées is herbal, complex, and considerably more demanding. Green Chartreuse is not a passive ingredient: it brings 130 botanicals, 55% ABV, and an intensity that reshapes everything it touches. The result is a drink that is simultaneously bright and deep, tart and herbal, elegant and challenging. It is one of the finest things that brandy, citrus, and Chartreuse have ever produced together, and it remains quietly underappreciated outside serious cocktail circles. That is unlikely to be the experience of anyone who tries it.

The Spiced Rum Punch is our warming Christmas batch: spiced rum heated gently with apple juice, orange juice, fresh lemon and honey, while cinnamon sticks, star anise and cloves work into the pot as it warms. It serves about ten, and unlike most winter punches it is planned to work cold as well as hot. Rum is the design decision. Where mulled wine ties the season to grape, a spiced rum base gives the punch fuller room for cinnamon, baking spice and rich sweetness, which is the register Christmas actually operates in. Honey rather than sugar keeps that sweetness rounded, and the full 100ml of lemon is what stops the batch settling into syrup. Heat it gently until the honey dissolves, hold it low for the evening, and taste as you go, adjusting sweetness and citrus to the room. For a party of mixed preferences, the cold version is the same recipe refrigerated overnight and served over ice, so one batch covers every guest.

The Grand Margarita is a Margarita with Grand Marnier in place of triple sec, and the substitution changes more than the label suggests. Grand Marnier is built on cognac rather than on neutral spirit, so it brings oak, dried fruit and weight alongside the orange, and the drink that results is rounder, deeper and noticeably less sharp than the original. Forty-five millilitres of tequila to thirty of Grand Marnier and fifteen of lime is also a sweeter ratio than the standard Margarita, where the liqueur usually sits below the citrus rather than twice above it. That is deliberate: Grand Marnier is less aggressively sweet than most triple secs and needs the volume to register. It is the version to pour for somebody who finds a classic Margarita too tart, and the wrong one for anybody who finds it too sweet.