The Turkey Smash

A Thanksgiving Cocktail Journey

From bourbon to rye, from store-bought to homemade, and the moment I realized my whiskey wasn’t corked - my syrup had carrot juice in it

I wanted to make a Thanksgiving cocktail. Tart cranberry, herbal notes, warm spices, citrus brightness. Clear vision, messy execution.

Turns out it takes a lot of iterations to get there. Also turns out that halfway through I’d convince myself my whiskey had gone bad when really it was just carrot juice in my syrup.

This is the Turkey Smash.

Version 1: Too Sweet, Not Enough Bite

Started with what seemed solid:

• 2 oz Wild Turkey 101 8 Year Bourbon

• 1 oz Cranberry Juice (100%, not cocktail)

• 1/2 oz Sorghum Syrup

Too sweet. The cranberry wasn’t tart enough to cut through the sorghum. The herbal notes I was chasing were completely absent. The bourbon wasn’t giving me the spice backbone I needed.

Time to pivot to rye.

Version 2: When Your Wife Picks the Other One

I tested two rye whiskeys side by side:

What I made for me:

• 2 oz Wild Turkey Rare Breed Rye

• 1 1/2 oz Cranberry Juice

• 1/2 oz Simple Syrup

• Orange Bitters

What I made for her:

• 2 oz Wild Turkey 101 Rye

• 1 1/2 oz Cranberry Juice

• 1/2 oz Simple Syrup

• Orange Bitters

I preferred the Rare Breed. She preferred the 101. She said hers tasted like cranberry sauce, the jelly type. I thought mine was too sweet, maybe from too much simple syrup or a syrup ratio that was too sugar-heavy.

We kept testing both.

Version 3: Finding the Right Bitters

The third round kept both whiskeys in play but added a new question: which bitters would actually bring those warm spices?

I tested both ryes with Bluegrass Five Spice Orange Bitters. The Rare Breed won clearly. The higher proof and spicier character worked better with the bitters.

Then I made another with just the Rare Breed using Regan’s Orange Bitters No. 6 for comparison. The Bluegrass Five Spice Orange was the right choice. Those warm spice notes (cinnamon, clove, allspice) finally showed up.

I also cut the syrup down to 1/4 oz, which helped with sweetness.

Where we were:

• 2 oz Wild Turkey Rare Breed Rye

• 1 1/2 oz Cranberry Juice (100%, not cocktail)

• 1/4 oz Cranberry Pie Syrup

• Bluegrass Five Spice Orange Bitters

This version had enough tartness to cut through rich Thanksgiving food. Good spark of tang and citrus. But still a bit sweet, and something else was off.

The Carrot Juice Discovery

There was this weird earthy flavor. I thought my whiskey might be corked. I was genuinely worried I’d been using bad bottles for multiple tests.

Then I read the label on my cranberry pie syrup: black carrot juice concentrate.

Always pay attention to your ingredients.

The black carrot juice gave the cocktail its deep color. But I could taste it. That earthy note wasn’t the whiskey. It was carrot juice.

I made two homemade syrups to compare:

1. Cranberry simple syrup (simple syrup plus cranberry juice and sugar)

2. Jellied cranberry sauce reduction (from leftover Thanksgiving cranberry sauce)

I tasted them straight, no cocktail. Both crushed the commercial syrup. Cleaner flavors, better balance, no carrot juice.

The Final Test

I made both versions in the actual cocktail.

The cranberry simple and the jellied cranberry sauce reduction tasted nearly identical. The only real difference was texture. When that’s the case, go the easy route.

The Turkey Smash:

• 2 oz Wild Turkey Rare Breed Rye

• 1 1/2 oz Cranberry Juice (100%, not cocktail)

• 1/4 oz Cranberry Simple Syrup

• 2 dashes Bluegrass Five Spice Orange Bitters

Add everything to a shaker with ice. Stir until well-chilled. Strain into a chilled Nick and Nora glass.

Garnish with 2-3 fresh cranberries on a cocktail pick across the rim and a rosemary sprig.

From that first too-sweet bourbon version to this, the testing paid off. Different base spirits, adjusted sweetness, bitters comparisons, ditching store-bought for homemade. The result tastes like the holiday it’s meant to celebrate.

Tart enough to cut through rich food. Spiced enough to feel festive. Complex enough to make you want another sip.

And it doesn’t taste like carrots.

Next month: Butterbeer