
I first tried a Vesper at this dimly lit old tavern in Boston. I was clutching my usual rum and Coke, and the bartender gave me this look – you know the one – before gently nudging me to taste “something a little more grown-up.” I caved, took a sip, and just sat in total awe. There’s this crisp, heady balance between the gin, vodka, and that faintly floral note from the Lillet Blanc that completely upended what I thought a martini could be.
Everyone always talks about the Bond connection – Casino Royale and all that. Technically, it’s true: Ian Fleming’s Bond orders a Vesper, naming it after the mysterious Vesper Lynd. But there’s a bit of debate about where the drink was actually born; some say it was a bartender named Gilberto Preti at Duke’s Hotel in London who mixed it up first. The only thing everyone agrees on? This isn’t your average martini.
Strength & Profile
Note: You can tap on flavors, occasions, and feels to view more similar cocktail recipes.
What sets the Vesper apart is its bolder, more adventurous character. You get an instant rush of strength on the first sip (it packs a punch, trust me), but then the flavors mellow out – you notice the fresh bite of gin, the soft edges from vodka, and lingering, almost citrusy-herbal brightness from the Lillet. If classic martinis have a reputation for being a little stern, the Vesper comes off as their stylish, slightly dangerous cousin.
I’ve probably made more of these than I care to admit (though not always for myself – I swear). Even my friends who swore off martinis have changed their tune once they tried a well-made Vesper. The secret is simple: use good spirits and don’t rush.
Ingredients
- 3 ounces (90 ml) gin (I tend to reach for Gordon’s for its bright, classic flavor, but honestly, go with your favorite)
- 1 ounce (30 ml) vodka
- 1/2 ounce (15 ml) Lillet Blanc
- One big strip of fresh lemon peel, for garnish
I’m a sucker for an icy martini glass, but I’ve also served these in a coupe when I’m feeling extra classy. Cold glassware makes all the difference.
How to Make a Vesper
- Start with a shaker filled right to the top with ice (the more, the better).
- Pour in the gin, vodka, and Lillet Blanc.
- Shake hard – don’t just swirl it – give it a good 10-15 second workout. Bond wasn’t kidding; this one’s better shaken.
- Double strain the drink (so you don’t end up with rogue ice chips) into your chilled glass.
- Take the lemon peel, give it a twist over the drink to let the oils spray over the surface, then drop it in.
Looking for a non-alcoholic take? I’ll admit, nothing’s quite the same, but a combo of good tonic, a splash of lemon, and a couple drops of citrus bitters over ice scratches a similar itch.
Food-wise, I love pairing a Vesper with briny oysters or a punchy cheese board. There’s this killer combo with sushi too, especially anything with citrus or a kick of ginger.
A few tried-and-true tips from too many nights behind the shaker: always chill your glass (leave it in the freezer for at least five minutes), use the freshest lemon peel you can find, and don’t be shy about adjusting the Lillet to your own taste. Sometimes I dial it up for a little more sweetness, or cut back if I want a crisp, boozy edge.
If you’re feeling a little adventurous, play around. Botanical gin really amps up the herbal notes. Cocchi Americano steps in beautifully for Lillet if you want a more bitter, old-school vibe. And if you think Bond would approve, toss a slice of jalapeño in the shaker for a subtle heat that works way better than you’d think.
The Vesper isn’t a weeknight, after-work kind of drink for me. It’s a ritual – a slow, deliberate thing that makes a quiet night feel cinematic. I suggest sticking to just one, maybe two. As Bond knew all too well: one is perfect, three is asking for trouble.








