#home bartender

Campari Rumpari

©️2026 Eduardo Mueses, All rights Reserved

Almond Daquiri

2oz spiced rum

.75oz amaretto

Juice of 1 small lime.

"Say your right words,” the goblins said.

Everyone’s got that one VHS tape they wore out as a kid; a movie that feels comforting, even sacred, because of its significance to baby-you. Maybe because it’s a concentrated shot of audio-visual nostalgia that takes you back in time, or because you saw the movie at such an impressionable age that it shaped your current tastes, or even your worldview. For me, that movie was Jim Henson’s Labyrinth.

I don’t know how old I was when I first saw it on the Disney channel, but I must’ve been little, because it wasn’t until the ripe old age of twelve that I ‘rediscovered’ it in a Blockbuster video after rapturously describing my vague, dream-like memories of it to a friend (this was before Googling anything was something that would even occur to me, nevermind the Pavlovian response it is now).

I want to extoll Labyrinth’s many virtues— Muppets! All the synthesizers! David Bowie hamming it up in riding breeches!— but even now as I list off points, I can’t manage to talk about it to other people without adjusting my enthusiasm to ensure they know I know it’s ridiculous. I remember showing it to a close friend in high school, without fully understanding how weird and babyish it might come off to someone who hadn’t seen it at a formative age, and taking it in through new eyes beside her on the couch with a perma-cringe (ahh, adolescence).

So my analytical, adult brain knows it’s goofy, and loves Labyrinth all the more for it. But there’s another part of me, deep down, that can’t unsee the way I saw it when I was a kid; a part of me that utterly, unreservedly believes that the right combination of words, spoken in the right moment, with real intent, will summon a goblin king. A part which believes that synthesizers quite naturally accompany a magical quest (and that no other instrument could properly convey the mystery and thrill of another world), and a part which continues to find sincere spiritual comfort in the moment Sir Didymus, Ludo and Hoggle assure Sarah that although she’s returning to her real, grown-up life, they’ll always be there, “should you need us.”

So this is my first crack at a Labyrinth cocktail, and who else could be the inspiration but the Goblin King himself? The story straddles two worlds— the mundane ‘verse Sarah comes from, and the ‘Underground’, home of the eponymous labyrinth winding around the goblin city. Real-world Bowie’s preferred spirit was Bombay Sapphire, while I think the rusticity of hard cider is just right for Jareth’s kingdom (though of course the wicked Goblin King has something tasting of blackcurrants and unicorns sloshing around in that royal goblet of his).

Jareth spends most of the story trying (in tricksy, underhanded fae fashion) to woo Sarah; botanists believe the sour, intractable quince to be the true fruit that tempted Eve, and violet, a sister to pansy that bears secret, secondary underground blossoms, is used by meddling fairy king Oberon in the love potion from Midsummer Night’s Dream.

The acidity and bitterness of the grapefruit balance the floral sweetness of the quince and violet, and, well, @thehudsonstandard Lovestruck bitters are self-explanatory, right? And no tribute to Jareth would be complete without a generous pinch of lustre dust.

The Nothingnothingtra-la-la

3 oz B. Nektar Death Unicorn blackcurrant cider

1 oz Bombay Sapphire gin

½ oz homemade quince syrup (made with fresh quince & membranillo)

1/3 oz grapefruit juice

¼ oz @thebittertruth Violet Liqueur

2 dashes @thehudsonstandard Lovestruck bitters

one pinch silver lustre dust

Shake all ingredients except the cider on ice, strain into a coupe, top with cider & garnish.

Sip while gazing longingly— and imperiously– out of a window, or while draped across a throne, surrounded by your charming, if dimwitted, minions.

Maple Old Fashioned

©️2026 Eduardo Mueses, All rights Reserved

I don’t know why Labyrinth has been on my mind lately, but I suspect it has something to do with all this rain we’ve been having. Rainy days always make me want comfort food, even when it comes to books, TV and movies, and it really doesn’t get much more comforting than a muppet-based fairytale, right?

So when I set out to make a cocktail based on a particular story, one of the things I always take into account are any actual drinks, foods or flavors present in canon. There isn’t too much of that pictured in Labyrinth, aside from the goblins sipping grog up in the castle, but there is one particular thing that gets eaten onscreen: the drugged peach that Jareth forces Hoggle to give to Sarah.

As Sarah takes a bite (and really, she should know better than to eat fruit in a fantasy mirror-verse, being a fairytale connoisseur herself) she remarks that the peach tastes strange, and that suddenly “everything’s dancing.” After the masquerade ball dream sequence, Sarah wakes up with the peach still in hand, and to her horror finds a glistening worm crawling out of the core.

So! We’ve got one poisoned peach, complete with worm. Obviously, this is a job for mezcal.

I used a passionfruit-infused mezcal because I happened to have it on hand, and the sweet fruitiness of the passionfruit mixes really well with the smokiness of mezcal. If I’d planned to make up a special batch just for this cocktail, though, I might’ve tried infusing it with peach rather than passionfruit. But I did have ripe peaches on hand, so I mixed up a peach syrup instead. I knew I wanted an ingredient that would contribute to the strange taste and the hallucinatory quality of the peach, so I decided on Gran Classico, an amaro aperitif with a range of ‘strange’ flavors, including rhubarb, bitter orange and wormwood, which carries (incredibly trace amounts of) the hallucinogen thujone. I chose grapefruit for the citrus-- no particular reason, just thought it would go best. And of course, the whole thing must be topped off with bubbly, in a nod to Jareth’s crystal ball-bubbles, and the lavish mirror-masquerade Sarah finds herself lost in.

Everything’s Dancing

2 oz passionfruit mezcal

1/3 oz Gran Classico

1/3 oz peach syrup

1/3 oz grapefruit juice

top with prosecco

I'd originally wanted to give this one a Persephone-themed name because of the pomegranate, but my friend Emily pointed out the dark berry skewered on the arrow had Hunger Games vibes, and so naturally, I ran with it. The name takes inspiration from the phrase they used to announce that Katniss & Peeta couldn't both survive the arena after all. 

The Slight Revision 

1 oz gin

1 oz Pernod

1 oz pomegranate juice

1/3 oz lime juice