The Bee’s Knees is one of the most honest cocktails in the American repertoire, because its origin is a cover-up. The drink was built during Prohibition to hide the taste of bootleg gin, and the recipe survives today as a testament to what bartenders could do when they were working with genuinely bad liquor.
The modern Bee’s Knees is not a compromise. It is a well-balanced sour that tastes better than most cocktails that do not start with a problem to solve.
Prohibition, 1920s
Prohibition in the United States ran from January 1920 to December 1933, and for most of those fourteen years, legal alcohol production was outlawed while illegal alcohol production was rampant. Speakeasies operated in every major American city. The drinkers of the 1920s drank more per capita than the drinkers of the previous decade, despite (or because of) the law.
The quality of the liquor was the problem. Bootleg gin was often “bathtub gin,” a term that was close to literal: juniper berries and neutral grain alcohol mixed in large containers, with no aging, no filtering, and no quality control. The resulting product tasted harsh, oily, and vegetal. Drinking it straight was unpleasant. Drinking it in a standard cocktail that used gin as a featured ingredient was almost as bad.
Bartenders during Prohibition solved the problem by reaching for the sweetest, most aromatic, most assertively flavored ingredients they could get. Honey, lemon, orange juice, grenadine, ginger. A Bee’s Knees combined gin with honey and lemon, and the honey performed two functions: it covered the rough edges of the bootleg gin, and it added a warmth and floral note that made the drink genuinely pleasant. Whatever bathtub gin actually did to the 1920s drinker, the honey kept it from being the last thing he remembered.
The name “bee’s knees” was 1920s slang for something excellent. The drink took its name from the general enthusiasm of the era. The other cover-up cocktail from the same period, the Gin Rickey variant with simple syrup, used lime and sugar instead of honey and lemon, and was called the Gin Daisy or sometimes the Gin Sour.
The drink in the modern era
Prohibition ended in 1933, and with it, bartenders no longer needed to cover bad gin. Quality gin returned to the American market. The Bee’s Knees should have disappeared along with the bathtub gin it was designed to hide. It didn’t.
The drink survived because the recipe, incidentally, is a well-balanced classic sour that works with any gin. A Bee’s Knees made with a high-quality modern gin is not the same drink as a Bee’s Knees made with 1920s bathtub gin. The modern version is brighter, more floral, and more complex. The honey pairs with juniper in a way that rewards a gin with actual botanical presence, and good modern gin is far better than anything the original drinkers ever tasted.
The cocktail revival of the late 1990s and 2000s rediscovered the Bee’s Knees along with most Prohibition-era classics. It is now on craft cocktail menus worldwide and is one of the most reliable drinks to order at an unfamiliar bar. If a bar cannot make a good Bee’s Knees, it probably cannot make a good anything.
What the drink actually is
The Bee’s Knees is a member of the sour family, with honey serving as the sweetener instead of simple syrup. Structurally, it is a gin sour with a honey substitution. The closest relatives are the Gin Sour and the Gimlet.
Honey is not just a sweetener. It brings floral, waxy, vegetal notes that a neutral simple syrup does not. Different honey produces measurably different drinks: clover honey is light and sweet, orange blossom honey is fragrant and citrusy, wildflower honey is complex and earthy, buckwheat honey is dark and assertive. Choice of honey changes the character of the cocktail meaningfully.
Making one well
Honey does not mix well with cold liquid. This is the first rule of making a Bee’s Knees. If you try to shake honey directly with ice, it seizes up and does not dissolve, leaving a sticky bottom and an undersweet drink. The solution is to make a honey syrup: equal parts honey and warm water, stirred until fully combined, then cooled. Honey syrup keeps in the refrigerator for weeks and is easier to work with than straight honey.
The gin has to carry the drink. Gallon House Gin’s juniper-forward profile, with rose, coriander, and cucumber in support, pairs naturally with honey and lemon. The juniper holds its own against the honey’s sweetness, and the floral notes in the gin amplify the honey’s own floral qualities.
The lemon has to be fresh. Bottled lemon juice does not work here. The Bee’s Knees is almost entirely citrus and honey, and any flatness in the lemon will ruin the drink.
The ratio matters. The classic is 2 parts gin, ¾ part lemon juice, ¾ part honey syrup. Adjust to taste. A slightly sweeter version works if your honey is mild. A slightly tarter version works if your honey is strong.
Shake hard with ice. Strain into a chilled coupe. Garnish with a lemon twist.
Variations worth knowing
The Gold Rush is a whiskey version of the Bee’s Knees: bourbon, honey syrup, and lemon. It was invented at Milk & Honey in New York in the early 2000s and is now a modern classic in its own right.
The Business is a shorter, stronger Bee’s Knees: gin, honey syrup, lime juice. It is less sweet and more spirit-forward.
The Airmail, a wartime-era variation, adds champagne to the shaken Bee’s Knees mixture and is served in a flute. It is brighter and more festive.
A Lavender Bee’s Knees adds a few drops of lavender bitters or a lavender-infused honey syrup, which pushes the floral note of both gin and honey forward.
The recipe
2 oz Gallon House Gin ¾ oz fresh lemon juice ¾ oz honey syrup (equal parts honey and warm water)
Shake with ice until cold. Strain into a chilled coupe. Garnish with a lemon twist.
A drink worth making often
The Bee’s Knees is a drink that rewards attention. The ingredients are simple and cheap, the technique is not difficult, and the result, with a good gin and a good honey, is one of the most satisfying small cocktails a home bar can produce. Prohibition-era bartenders invented it to hide bad liquor. Modern bartenders keep making it because the recipe, freed from the problem it was designed to solve, is genuinely great.
I first had a proper one at a small bar in Italy, where the honey was local and the gin was something I did not recognize, and the bartender seemed surprised that I knew what to order. The honey in that drink stuck with me for years. I still order them when I see them.
Sources
- David Wondrich, Imbibe! (Perigee, 2007), on Prohibition-era cocktails and the Bee’s Knees.
- Dale DeGroff, The Craft of the Cocktail (Clarkson Potter, 2002), on technique and honey syrup.
- Gary Regan, The Joy of Mixology (Clarkson Potter, 2003), on the sour family.
- Sasha Petraske’s writings on Milk & Honey and the Gold Rush variation.
- Difford’s Guide entry on the Bee’s Knees.
About the author
Adam Messick is the founder of Abiqua Spirit Distillery in Silverton, Oregon, with ten years in the craft spirits industry. With help from family and friends, he handles the day-to-day work of blending, bottling, and labeling every release of Silverton Vodka, Gallon House Gin, and Üla Orange Liqueur. Silverton Vodka received the American Distilling Institute’s Gold Medal in 2019. Silverton Vodka, Gallon House Gin, and Üla Orange Liqueur have each won Silver at the San Francisco World Spirits Competition.
Abiqua Spirit Distillery is a small-batch spirits company producing finely crafted potato vodka, gin, and orange liqueur from Silverton, Oregon. Contact: info@abiquaspiritdistillery.com or (503) 837-9869.