
Let’s Get Blitzen: Cocktail Advent Calendar – Day 13 – Rob Roy.
Okay, dealer’s choice tonight. We’re going classic with a Rob Roy because the holidays are chaotic enough — sometimes the most comforting thing in the world is a drink that knows exactly who it is. No bells, no whistles, no “surprise, there’s beet juice.” Just whisky, vermouth, bitters, and an attitude that says, “I pay my bills on time.”
A Rob Roy is essentially a Scotch Manhattan, but with its own dignified swagger — smoky, smooth, and the kind of cocktail that encourages serious thoughts like: “Maybe I should alphabetize my spices” or “Should I finally buy coasters?” It’s a drink with gravitas, which is probably why it pairs so well with holiday existentialism.

The Rob Roy was born in 1894 at New York’s Waldorf Astoria, created to celebrate the premiere of the operetta Rob Roy — a theatrical retelling of the life of Scotland’s own folk hero and charming outlaw, Rob Roy MacGregor. The hotel’s bartenders decided that if America was going to toast a Scottish legend, they darn well better do it with Scotch whisky instead of rye. Thus, the Manhattan got a tartan-clad cousin, and the Rob Roy took its place in cocktail canon.
So yes, this drink is literally named after a man who once stole cattle and evaded the law. Which honestly gives your quiet Tuesday night cocktail a delightful hint of rebellion.

Blended scotch brings smoky malt warmth, sweet vermouth adds spiced-wine richness, and Angostura ties it together with clove-cinnamon depth. The whole thing feels like velvet in a glass — plush, warming, and just brooding enough to be interesting. A couple of brandied cherries seal the deal: holiday-appropriate, a little indulgent, and entirely necessary.

Stir long enough to make it cold and glossy. A great Rob Roy should glide, if it tastes like scotch with a chill, keep stirring. You’re not diluting it into oblivion; you’re bringing the drink into harmony. A well-stirred cocktail is like a choir: everyone knows their part, and no one is shouting
IG Stories at 5 p.m. Eastern — come hang out while I stir this into oblivion and explain why I love a cocktail that looks like it’s wearing a tuxedo.
Cheers, friends!

