Mocktails are the surprise that keeps on giving

A bartender in Edmonton has a creepy quirk: every time someone takes their first sip of a mocktail they've made, the bartender stops what they're doing to watch. Whether mid-conversation or mid-shake, everything freezes for a brief moment.

"It's to see if they notice the drink," the bartender explains. "I mean, really notice it."

In a post-truth era where it's hard to surprise anyone anymore, this is why they love the mocktail. It's that brief moment of double-take. A tiny pause in a conversation. A raised eyebrow, a furrowed brow. A Diet Coke is a Diet Coke, a negroni is a negroni, and the conversation carries on. But a jalapeno, parsley and cardamom soda? Now you've got somebody's attention.

A common mistake bartenders make when designing their zero-proof program is thinking they're plugging a hole — offering a consolation prize. Soothing a longing by producing as close a substitute as they can muster to "the real thing."

But it is the absence of alcohol's familiar flavours that allows for mocktails to be so surprising in the first place. "Culinary creativity behind the bar is nothing new, but with the 'soft crush' of a broader move towards zero-proof alternatives came an opportunity the food-and-beverage scene didn't even realize it wanted: the rare gift of a blank slate."

There's tremendous archival value in riffing on established cocktails — clarified grasshopper milk punch, anyone? And yet, it is the absence of alcohol that allows for genuine surprise. We have expected so little of our zero-proof offerings for so long that even a modest effort at producing an original bouquet of wet flavours is usually met with resounding enthusiasm, or at least with curiosity.

Here's the chance to play with context, offering combinations of ingredients that diners have doubtless tasted on the plate, but never in the glass. Sure, you've probably tried ponzu sauce or a Waldorf salad before, but have you ever tried them as drinks?

One person described a potion composed of a brackish botanical gin alternative made with coastal herbs, tonic, elderflower and orange blossom as tasting like "somebody beating clean linens against a rock on the Cornish seaside." Another said a brew made with spruce tips, saffron and dandelion root tastes "the way a walk in the woods feels."