The Best Last Word Cocktail Recipe, According to Experts

To conduct a Last Word tasting in 2025 might seem a bit… random. Once a popular bartender’s handshake during the early years of the cocktail revival, the drink’s best years seem to be behind it, at least in certain cocktail circles. “A Last Word was the first drink I made for myself as a bartender,” says Shannan Lynch of New York’s Bar Kabawa, “but I don’t really drink them anymore.” 

Much of the cocktail’s early success hinged on the cherry liqueur that made replicating the pre-Prohibition drink possible in the first place: maraschino. But what was once hailed as a miracle worker, capable of bringing forgotten drinks back to life, quickly went from darling to divisive thanks to its polarizing flavor.

Even as its audience dwindled, though, the Last Word never really went away. “We would get orders for them all the time at Gage & Tollner,” says Tom Wolfson, who worked behind the bar at the historic Brooklyn steakhouse before moving upstairs to Sunken Harbor Club. The same is true at Grand Army, the Brooklyn bar where we recently convened to taste through nine examples of the drink submitted by bartenders across the country. Head bartender Patty Dennison noted that it’s not uncommon for guests to call for the classic with mezcal in lieu of the traditional gin. 

For certain drink enthusiasts, the Last Word can be a way to telegraph a level of cocktail literacy and an openness to challenging flavors. But those same flavors leave many—including several of the assembled judges—split in their affection for the drink. Wolfson was the lone defender of the classic and is a stark traditionalist when it comes to the ingredients, ratio and garnish of the Last Word—he even keeps a note in his phone tallying the way the drink is served from bar to bar: cherry in, out, on a pick. Grand Army bartender Molly Rhom, Lynch and I find the maraschino to be a not altogether pleasant flavor, but agreed that it plays an important role in an equal-parts cocktail whose four ingredients are all power hitters.

Across the board, we were looking for a Last Word that successfully balanced its four components such that each ingredient was perceptible, but none was domineering. This often meant sticking to the equal-parts formula, and leaning on an assertive gin (or sometimes bumping up the gin quotient) to match the intensity of the green Chartreuse, maraschino and lime juice. As Wolfson stated, “There are only two acceptable variables in a Last Word: the garnish and the gin, and even with the gin, it has to be London dry.”

The last time we went in search of the ultimate Last Word was in 2018, when Chartreuse was considered mandatory. This time, acknowledging that shortages have made it harder for bars and consumers to find the liqueur, substitutes like Boomsma Claerkampster Cloosterbitter were given fair consideration. 

The unanimous winner was Richard Boccato’s Last Word from Dutch Kills in Queens, New York. Upon the drink’s arrival, Wolfson observed, “Even just visually, this looks like what a Last Word should look like.” The recipe calls for a heavy three-quarters of an ounce of lime juice, and three-quarters of an ounce each of Maraska maraschino syrup (equal parts Maraska and simple syrup), green Chartreuse and Monkey 47 gin, garnished with a sunken cherry and a spritz of lime oil over the surface. Lizzie Munro, Punch’s art director, found it to be “sweet in the right way, tart in the right way,” almost like a limesicle. By splitting the Maraska with simple syrup, Boccato avoided the drying quality that the liqueur can have, and the lime twist gave it a welcome aromatic pop. “If I go to a bar and I order a Last Word and I get that,” said Wolfson, “I’m happy.” 

Taking second place was the Last Word from Joe Stinchcomb of Bar Muse in Oxford, Mississippi. On paper, the drink is a bit of a departure from the classic. He abandons the equal-parts formula in favor of an ounce each of navy-strength gin and Chartreuse, three-quarters of an ounce of lime juice and a mere half-ounce of Luxardo maraschino—no garnish. The judges found it on the dry side, but ultimately liked the dialed-down maraschino. As for the lack of garnish, the judges were split, with three out of five preferring a cherry in the drink. 

In third place, Paddy O’Brien’s Last Word, from the aptly named Last Word bar in Queens, was the only example to use a domestic gin. His recipe, which took top honors at our prior Last Word tasting, bumps up the gin—Warwick Rustic Gin from upstate New York—to an ounce, followed by the expected three-quarters of an ounce for the remaining ingredients. It’s served with a sidecar containing a little extra of the drink, plus a maraschino cherry. The judges found it pleasantly perfumed, and appreciated the thoughtfulness of its presentation. As Rhom noted, “It solves the cherry issue perfectly.”