This Substack has been simmering for a while, and it’s exciting to finally bring it to life and share it with you. But before we dive into the world of flavour and how it enriches our lives, I want to share a little about my journey and the approach I’ll be taking.
For me, flavour is more than just taste - it’s a language. Through cocktails, we can tell stories, evoke emotions, and create experiences that linger long after the last sip. I’m endlessly curious about how ingredients interact, not just on the palate but within the broader context of culture, memory, and identity. It’s taken me quite some time - and a lot of work - to reach this point and to be able to communicate it. Not that it’s a problem; I love the process. I like investing the time to ‘crack’ an idea and uncover what can be learned along the way.
Perhaps that’s why I’m taking a slightly different approach to writing about flavour and cocktails. Don’t expect a flood of recipes - I want you to think on your feet and create instinctually. Don’t expect glossy cocktail photos - I want you to visualise flavour, to engage with the craft beyond just consuming an image.
Flavourful is about exploring, experimenting, and developing a deeper understanding of drinks and the stories they tell. Expect Flavour Musings, an analysis of ingredients, exploring their sensory, social, and cultural connections. Statement Cocktails, exploring cocktail iconography and semiotics, to uncover the influence of trends and consumer choices. Perfect Pours, a deep dive into the structure of liquids, whether enjoyed on their own or mixed into cocktails with or without alcohol. And finally, I Fried My Brain, where we’ll explore the science of flavour, including the multisensory experiences and crossmodal interactions - what they mean and how to explore them further.
How I Got Here
It all started with a love of food and a fascination with the ‘unseen.’ I grew up in the ‘90s in Stockport, a small industrial town just outside Manchester. I was lucky - my mum was a great cook. If we were fortunate, weekends meant trips to Manchester’s Curry Mile, selecting spices for her homemade curries, or visits to Chinatown to pick out sauces and dim sum. Every few years, we’d take a camping holiday in northern France, where my sister and I would marvel at the abundance of fresh fruit, fish, and aperitif snacks. Supermarkets became our theme parks—aisles filled with ingredients to taste and appreciate. I learned early on that cooking didn’t have to follow strict recipes; I’d happily throw things into a pan with the carefree flair of Keith Floyd.
It wasn’t until after I graduated from art college (an experience in itself) and took a stopgap job at a small chocolatier that I realised I had an understanding of flavour. We sold chocolates infused with Moroccan mint and rose - classics, but never quite as you’d tasted them before. For the more adventurous, there were bold creations like tobacco and tonka bean, which we reserved for die-hard fans and prestigious chefs.
By this point, I’d spent years working in retail, and I knew one thing for sure: if you’re going to spend 40 hours a week selling something, you’d better love what you’re selling. And I did. I ate chocolate every day for just over four years. During that time, my fine art MA quietly faded into the background as I discovered a new skill - I could not only understand flavour, but I could also describe it. And, as fate would have it, I discovered cocktails through that chocolatier and decided to move over to ‘the dark side’, changing career paths to work with drinks.
That was 14 years ago. Since then, I’ve designed countless cocktails, using every technique - be it old or new - under the sun. I was thrown into the deep end, building concepts for cocktail bars and restaurants, publishing books and magazines about drinks, and learning how to create cocktails that push the boundaries of flavour.
Now, as a drinks consultant running my own company, one thing remains constant: my belief in the power of flavour and the pleasure it can bring to the guest. This is what fascinates me the most. Flavour is an internal experience - it’s hard to put into words. While there are standardised languages (think of the precise vocabulary of wine tasting) to help us articulate what we perceive, flavour itself is far more complex and multifaceted. It speaks beyond words.
Why This Approach?
So, why am I telling you about my art education and working in retail? Because I’ve come to realise these experiences shaped how I approach my work today when creating cocktails for clients. My perspective is rooted in seeing the potential of ingredients, being unafraid to experiment - or to fail. It’s about reading the room, understanding what a guest or consumer wants, and balancing that with what my clients need to achieve success. And by success, I don’t mean a bar award - I mean a lasting, meaningful impression created through the experience of flavour.
This, I’ve come to realise, is a slightly different approach. My industry (myself included) often spends a lot of time focusing on the structure of cocktails and building concepts that showcase the creativity of bartending. And that’s important - understanding structure is the foundation of making delicious drinks. But our perspective is often quite internal. We pick up on a theme that intrigues us and run with it, trying to create something new.
What we sometimes forget to consider is the external world - the guest’s world - and what’s driving their choices. We often overlook the cultural context and the symbiotic relationship between cocktails (the products we select and consume) and wider culture.
So, while Flavourful will explore taste, flavour, and ingredients, it will also explore culture and its significance to cocktail craft. After all, creating cocktails isn’t just about technical skill - it’s about understanding the guest, their desires, and the world that influences them. Because in the end, the only success that truly matters is the pleasure we bring to the people we serve.
I hope you enjoy and I look forward to sharing and discussing with you.
Zoe