“No More Cocktail Copies!”
The New Confidence of Alpine Bars

There is no amaro without mountain herbs, so bartenders are bringing those herbs into the shaker right where they grow.

When the oversized stone pine cone sits on the counter of Liquid Diary in Innsbruck, everything suddenly makes sense. It explains why Damir Bušić has turned his back on citrus fruits and industrial sugar. In fact, lime would feel completely out of place in his alpine drink, whose vessel practically screams “tree line!” And when mixing with a spirit distilled from the endemic stubble turnip, as the Tyrolean bartender does, simple sugar syrup would defeat the purpose entirely. Why should a globally available product tame the character of a wild local ingredient? Especially when the famously pungent local spirit from the Wildschönau valley, often described as a liquid dare, embodies pure regional identity. 

Bušić has therefore gone “all in,” as Austrians might describe a radical commitment. In a bold move, he balances his cocktails with oxymel made from local honey and precisely adjusted with vinegar according to its Brix value. Just a few steps away in Innsbruck, guests at Dunlin can sample house-made fruit wines. Produced from second-grade fruit that would otherwise go to waste, these creations earned the bar Austria’s only position on the European list of the 50 Best Bars. David Barbist, who crafts these low-ABV flavor wonders, got his first bartending job with the godfather of Alpine mixology: Andreas Hotter of Englhof.

The hotelier from the Zillertal experienced his moment of revelation in 2009, inspired directly by fine dining. Today’s Michelin-starred Salzburg chef Andreas Döllerer was already serving an “Alpine Cuisine” menu back then. Hotter transferred the principle of using local ingredients into the world of cocktails. At Englhof, guests can enjoy rhubarb gimlets, sage martinis, or a Tyrolean twist on the Corn ’n Oil. Called Henk ’n Wax, it derives its sweetness not from falernum but from honey and beeswax. The menu changes four times a year, and Hotter, who also teaches bartending in Innsbruck, actively promotes this confidently local approach.

“We see our bar more as a liquid restaurant,” says Hotter. As a result, guests can experience the changing seasons through the shaker. “May brings some fantastic products. For example, we always have a Gin Fizz variation with asparagus on the menu.” 

What began with a few passionate pioneers has inspired an increasing number of colleagues. Elmir Medunjanin, for example, has transplanted the idea from Tyrol to Switzerland. At the Appenzeller Huus hotel in Gonten, there are no exotic fruits. In his version of a Garibaldi, sea buckthorn takes on the role traditionally played by orange.

For all of them, however, the focus is not on individual wild-foraged ingredients casually collected on the way to work. Hotter’s Alpine Mixology concept explicitly lists products that are not used in his bar. Even locally established drinks such as the Flügerl are excluded.

Nowadays, one does not need to be located on a ski slope to celebrate the Alpine landscape in a glass. Like any meaningful movement, the Alpine approach has its manifesto. It was written by Marcus Volsa in the spring of 2026 in Traunkirchen, Upper Austria. At the Belétage bar, he regularly shares excerpts from the 120-page publication with guests. And “excerpts” is technically the right word, because Volsa captures the landscape of the Salzkammergut region in his creations through maceration.

But there is more to it than that. “This isn’t about regionality,” he says, referring to a label that has become a cliché even supermarkets use. Instead, it is about “a region through time.” Every month, Volsa gathers different plant materials and preserves them in the form of amaro. 

His bottlings carry the traditional names of the old rural calendar months. The Christmond edition before Christmas tastes of cardamom, raisins, and beeswax. Heumond, by contrast, is noticeably sweeter and evokes summer days by Lake Traunsee. Above all, each bottling reflects varying amounts of sunlight or icy cold.

In his extensively researched history of the cocktail, written by a former expert in political rhetoric, Volsa sees this approach as a challenge to the course of modern history. While cities serve as hubs of commerce and places of constant availability, rural life beats in rhythm with local nature. Or rather, it is beginning to do so once again. Volsa draws inspiration from the Japanese concept of micro-seasons. True luxury, he argues, is not having access to everything from everywhere. It is appreciating what exists at its absolute peak, right here and right now.

At the same time, Volsa is anything but a nostalgic traditionalist longing to return to some lost Arcadia. He happily uses ingredients such as Lapsang Souchong tea and mirin in his 55% ABV infusions. His goal is instead to celebrate the uniqueness of Alpine valleys.

“Bars in peripheral regions were often little more than copies of city bars. We are trying to reverse that trend and bring the aperitivo back from the cities,” he says.

And one can almost hear an echo in agreement from Appenzell, Innsbruck, and the Zillertal all at once.