Beer, wine and alcoholic punches might be lovely beverages, but there is just something about the timelessly hip sophistication of a cocktail that gets me every time.

The merest whiff of fine liquor sends me straight into a cool, dimly lit room, at the center of which is a polished oak bar railed in spit-shined brass. In the background, an acoustic trio plays evocative jazz, and low laughter complements the sweet rhubarb of polite, clandestine conversation. The bartender, stepping up to take my order, cocks his head, his lip twitched into a wry smile: “What’ll it be, ma’am?”

In this milieu, nothing will do but to order a cocktail, a pleasing concoction of smooth liquor enhanced by sweet liqueur and, perhaps, a treat.

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