
I first discovered the Lady Be Good cocktail almost by accident, during a drizzly Friday happy hour at a little speakeasy tucked behind an unmarked door. The bartender – one of those unflappable types who can talk gin with the same passion some people reserve for vinyl records or baseball stats – claimed this drink would win over any gin skeptic. I took her up on the challenge and, honestly, haven’t looked back since.
After charming the recipe out of her (and, let’s be real, scribbling half-intelligible notes on the back of a receipt), I spent way too many weekends at home tinkering with ratios, hunting for the right gin, and recruiting friends as very willing taste-testers. Eventually, the Lady Be Good became my sort-of signature: simple enough to not intimidate beginner bartenders, but impressive enough that people always ask for seconds.
Strength & Profile
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Here’s what keeps me coming back to this cocktail: it’s bright and citrusy without veering into mouth-puckering territory. The botanicals in the gin shine through, but get mellowed out by fresh lemon and just enough sweetness to balance things. It manages to feel both crisp and cozy – a little like a 1920s jazz tune. Maybe it helps that the drink is named after a Gershwin musical, but every time I make one, there’s something a little bit old-school glamorous about it.
Ingredients
- 2 ounces gin (I’m partial to Beefeater or Tanqueray – classic, not too overpowering)
- 1 ounce fresh lemon juice (seriously, squeeze it yourself)
- 1/2 ounce simple syrup
- 1/2 ounce triple sec
- Cherry, for garnish
Pour this into a stemmed cocktail or coupe glass – trust me, you want it cold. A warm Lady Be Good is no one’s friend.
How to Make a Lady Be Good
- Fill a cocktail shaker about 2/3 full with ice.
- Add gin, lemon juice, simple syrup, and triple sec.
- Shake with determination for about 15 seconds, until your hands are nearly numb and the shaker turns frosty.
- Strain into your chilled glass.
- Garnish with a cherry – in my house, this step is basically mandatory.
If you’re skipping booze, I’ve accidentally (okay, maybe on purpose) swapped in sparkling water for gin, nixed the triple sec, and upped the lemon and syrup a hair. It’s definitely different, but still pretty delicious – like a dressed-up lemonade.
Over time, I’ve amassed a small library of Lady Be Good riffs. The “Lady Be Cool” is my heatwave hero: muddle a few mint leaves, switch lemon for lime, and carry on. “Lady Be Sweet” gets honey syrup and just a splash of elderflower liqueur – so floral, it’s practically spring in a glass. And my favorite curveball, “Lady Be Spicy,” means tossing a thin slice of fresh jalapeño into the shaker before anything else. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Food-wise, this cocktail gets along with almost anything that appreciates a citrusy sidekick: creamy brie or blue cheese, herby roast chicken, shrimp skewers with lemon, you name it. I’ve even sipped one with a pile of kettle chips, no judgment.
Take it from my (occasionally overzealous) personal experiments: fresh lemon juice is non-negotiable. Don’t skip chilling your glass – it keeps the drink crisp way longer. And shake like you mean it; the difference in texture is real.
So that’s my Lady Be Good story. It’s the drink that feels like hosting a party, even when it’s just me and some low-key music in the kitchen. It’s familiar but just fancy enough, and every time I pass a glass to a friend, I know they’re about to discover a new favorite.