12-06-2025
6 Asian-origin cocktails to know (and order with confidence), from the Singapore Sling to gin pahit
2. Pegu Club
Named after the British-era Pegu Club in Yangon (then Rangoon), this 1920s creation became its house cocktail. Stirred with gin, orange curaçao, lime juice and bitters, it was both zesty and elegant—and later spread via American cocktail literature. The Pegu Club was rediscovered during the modern craft cocktail revival. Bitter-forward and smartly balanced, it helped realign Western tastes away from overly sweet Tiki drinks towards subtler, spirit-forward sophistication.
See more: 5 dishes and drinks you didn't know were Malaysian inventions 3. Poktanju
Born in the back alleys and smoky pojangmacha of South Korea in the 1960s through the '80s, poktanju (literally 'bomb alcohol') was more a ritual than a drink. With a shot of soju or whisky dropped dramatically into a half-pint of beer, the concoction became a social lubricant for salarymen and soldiers alike. It was democratic, affordable and brutally efficient.
As far as Asian cocktails go, poktanju wasn't about taste. It was about dissolving hierarchy. Managers drank with subordinates, rookies with veterans, all equalised by one explosive gulp. It was especially popular in office after-hours or on military leave, where camaraderie mattered more than refinement.
Today, the 'soju bomb' lives on in trendy Korean barbecue spots from Los Angeles to London. It's also inspired similar rituals across drinking cultures: think sake bombs in Japanese izakaya or even Jägerbombs in Western bars. Once seen as reckless, the poktanju has been reclaimed as a playful, Instagram-worthy nod to Korea's nightlife history.
Don't miss: 'APT.', '3-6-9', and more Korean drinking games that transcend social hierarchies 4. Saketini
Enter the saketini: a quietly revolutionary fusion of Japan's rice wine heritage and Western cocktail minimalism. While an early version is said to have appeared as far back as the 1964 World's Fair, the drink gained its signature cool factor in the 1990s, when Japanophilia collided with global mixology. The recipe is clean and precise: sake shaken (or stirred) with gin, vodka or vermouth, then poured into a martini glass with a citrus twist. For purists, it was heresy. For bartenders seeking balance and restraint, it was a design-forward alternative to the boozier martini.
Sake cocktails were once dismissed as gimmicky, but the saketini helped reposition sake as a mixable, modern spirit. Today, sake is no longer confined to sushi pairings. You'll find saketinis on curated menus from Brooklyn rooftops to Berlin hotel bars, especially where Japanese aesthetics and Scandinavian minimalism converge. Think Tokyo elegance with a Bond martini silhouette. 5. Gin Pahit
Simple and storied, the gin pahit (Malay for 'bitter gin') dates back to British colonial rule in Southeast Asia. Essentially an unadorned mix of London dry gin and a few dashes of Angostura bitters, it was the preferred refresher for British planters and civil servants unwinding after long tropical days. There was no sugar, no fruit and no frills—just a pink-tinged, medicinal sharpness meant to restore one's constitution and dull the weight of the equatorial sun. A kind of tropical cousin to the pink gin favored in the Royal Navy, the gin pahit was brisk, bitter and unapologetically imperial.
While less well-known than its tiki or daiquiri contemporaries, the gin pahit has made quiet comebacks in neo-classic cocktail bars and heritage hotels in Singapore and Penang. For cocktail aficionados and historians, it's a minimalist marvel: the anti-Tiki in a world awash with over-garnished libations. Its influence lingers in the revival of early classic drinks, where formality meets just the right hit of bitterness. 6. Somaek
Purists may scoff because this isn't technically a cocktail by Western standards. There's no garnish, no glassware lore, no bitters. But, in terms of cultural function and drinking philosophy, it deserves its seat at the table.
Part cocktail, part cultural ritual, somaek, a portmanteau of soju and maekju (beer), was never meant to sit pretty on a mixologist's menu. It was born in the back rooms of barbecue joints, office gatherings and post-military banquets as a way to loosen inhibitions and stretch both alcohol and budget. The ratio is up to the drinker (or the office boss), but the effect is the same: smooth, fizzy and stronger than it looks.
As Korean drinking culture goes global—thanks, K-dramas—somaek's reputation followed, appearing on menus in Los Angeles, London and Melbourne. Like the poktanju, somaek is a version of the soju bomb, albeit lighter. It's now a Gen Z drinking rite, trending on TikTok and embraced by bar programs aiming to fuse low-effort charm with international cool.
