I’ve been on a bit of a classic cocktail kick lately, and the Monte Carlo has firmly earned a spot in my regular rotation. If you’re a fan of spirit-forward drinks like the Manhattan or Old Fashioned, but want to branch out, this one’s worth getting to know.
I first tried a Monte Carlo at a moody, speakeasy-style bar in Chicago a few years back. It was a cold night, and the bartender suggested it after I chatted about my fondness for rye-heavy cocktails. That first sip completely hooked me: the spicy kick of rye beautifully mellowed by Benedictine’s herbal sweetness, all tied together with a couple dashes of bitters. It struck that perfect balance between robust and silky, with a lingering, honeyed finish that made me slow down and pay attention.
Strength & Profile
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The Monte Carlo’s roots go back to the golden age of cocktails, but it never developed quite the mainstream following the Manhattan did. These days, though, it’s a cult favorite among cocktail nerds looking for something a bit off the beaten path. I’ve tinkered with the recipe more times than I can count – sometimes for myself, other times for friends clustered around my dining table, eyeing the liquor cart with curiosity.
Ingredients & Glassware
- 2 oz rye whiskey (I’m partial to Rittenhouse or Old Overholt)
- ½ oz Benedictine liqueur (sometimes I nudge it up to ¾ oz, especially with spicier ryes)
- 2 dashes Angostura bitters
- Lemon twist, for garnish
Glassware is a personal call. Some nights I reach for a coupe and serve it “up” for more ceremony, but honestly, I love it in a rocks glass with one big ice cube – it feels casual, grown-up, and somehow inviting.
How I Make It
I keep it classic:
- Pour rye, Benedictine, and bitters into a mixing glass.
- Add ice and stir for a solid 30 seconds until the drink is properly chilled and diluted.
- Strain into your favorite glass – rocks or coupe, your call. If it’s in a rocks glass, drop in a fresh cube.
- Take a nice wide lemon peel, express it over the drink, then drop it in.
I’ve played with the Benedictine amount quite a bit. For high-proof or very spicy rye (like Rittenhouse), ¾ oz of Benedictine smooths out the edges without leaning too sweet. For milder rye, I stick to ½ oz. The main thing is keeping the balance so you taste both the whiskey and the liqueur – neither should overwhelm.
If you’ve got friends who find this style of drink too boozy, I sometimes add a splash of cold water. Just a barspoon or two can open up the flavors and soften things, but it’s a delicate touch – this is not a drink to dilute into obscurity.
Pairings are where the Monte Carlo surprises people. The herbaceous sweetness and spice go incredibly well with strong cheeses (blue cheese and Stilton are favorites), dried figs, and dark chocolate. I had a group of friends over last month, served these with a heaping charcuterie board, and they disappeared so fast I barely got a glass myself.
Variations? For a more herbal spin, sub in yellow Chartreuse for the Benedictine – totally different, but fantastic. If you’re feeling frisky, split the base spirit: half rye, half cognac. It adds a nuanced richness. But honestly, I’d skip trying to make a non-alcoholic version of this one. The unique interplay between whiskey and Benedictine is what gives the Monte Carlo its character.
There’s nothing flashy here – no flaming citrus peels or photogenic garnishes – just a quietly confident drink that showcases good rye whiskey and a liqueur you might otherwise overlook. Whenever I want something a step up from an Old Fashioned but don’t feel like busting out a bunch of bottles, I land on the Monte Carlo. And it’s yet to let me down.
