The Bar
The Treasury. 1012 E 6th St, Austin, TX 78702
Visited 6/19/2026 @ 7:30pm.
The Drink
From Monument to Masses. St. George Valley gin, Yebiga "Bela" plum brandy, Comoz blanc vermouth, China-China Amer. $15.
The Treasury takes the exploration part of craft cocktails really seriously, as both this cocktail and the other I tried had unique ingredients I'd never seen before but really enjoyed. The name is a reference to spreading the gospel of Monument Valley (which the owner is evidently a big fan of), but I am not quite sure what cocktail genre this falls in - the combination of gin, sweet vermouth, and Campari/another Italian liqueur would make it a negroni, but the plum brandy adds a really different spin on it, and all of the other ingredients have some sort of citrusy overtones, including the gin. The bartenders are big fans of the Balkan plum brandy, also known as rakija; this was the unaged version. The Amer, which dates back to 1875, was a solid addition; as you can tell by the name, it can play the role of amaro or vermouth in a cocktail. I have had the Comoz vermouth before at Swedish Hill and liked it. Overall this was just a really well-made cocktail with multiple ingredients that would each be great in other cocktails.
A fun behind-the-scenes detail is that the drink picture above is actually of my second round; I was so absorbed by my conversation that I totally messed up the picture, and was therefore forced to order it again so I could get a clean snap of it. I don't like to dwell on just how much suffering I endure on this journey for you, the loyal reader, but sometimes I am practically forced to order multiple cocktails in order to provide the level of service that you deserve.
What's Up, Doc? San Cosme mezcal, Primo Aperitivo, pineapple gomme syrup, carrot juice, lemon. $15.
I liked the first drink but loved the second. In my opinion drinks like this single-handedly justify the existence of the entire craft cocktail scene/movement/wave, as the idea of using carrot in a cocktail would never have occurred to me but fully converted me once I tried it. Like many great ideas it was based on an inventory problem: one of the bartenders had a bunch of carrots lying around and - just like in the famous anecdote of the Moscow Mule being designed to unload a ginger beer surplus - decided to see what could be done with the excess root vegetable. The result is a triumph; even its name is both a fun reference to Bugs Bunny, arguably the greatest cartoon character of all time, as well as the fact that San Cosme is the patron saint of doctors. San Cosme is evidently more of a mixing mezcal than a sipping mezcal, and that works well here when poured alongside the citrusy Primo Aperitivo, which is also from Mexico. Gomme is just syrup with a thickener in it, so when the pineapple is combined with the lemon, the carrot juice, and everything else, the resulting cocktail was so good that I immediately wondered why you don't see carrot more often. The answer: carrot juice doesn't stay fresh for very long, so it's usually not worth it to keep it around. If only all inventory problems had a solution as drinkable as this one.
The brilliance of carrot juice as a cocktail ingredient in conjunction with the sight of a bottle of Malört on the shelf sparked a lengthy discussion about how Austin needs its own prank liquor equivalent to Malört based on some local flavor or ingredient of our own. We have the Indian Paintbrush, invented at Garage Bar, as our "official" city cocktail, but that's way too pleasant for our purposes. Malört's horrible taste draws deeply on old European folkways, but Austin is too new for us to have thought up our own terrible local distilled disaster (I have had menthol tobacco-flavored vodka, but that's imported), so the best we could come up with was to make our hypothetical gag spirit savory, reminiscent of breakfast tacos somehow. Upon further reflection, I think a good candidate would be a chorizo liqueur:
- Even the sound of that is disgusting, which is just what we're after.
- At least one person has made a chorizo negroni and not died instantly, so there is precedent.
- Filipino cuisine has not one but two types of pork sausage - Chorizo de Cebu and Chorizo de Macao - made with anise, which strengthens the Malört connection.
I'm not directly asking someone to make this horrific meat liqueur nightmare come to life, like Prankenstein's monster, but wouldn't it be fun if it did exist?
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