How much should a mocktail cost?

It’s practically the definition of a First World Problem: How much is too much to pay for some ice cubes, soda water, and syrup/bitters in a glass?

About five bucks, you say? A big slice of the internet agrees. On a popular Threads post, user “ughchase” writes: “in no world should mocktails cost $1-2 less than actual cocktails. read the room. i’m not paying $15 for tonic and some fruit flavor.”

But how about if the cocktail is embellished with designer glassware, gourmet garnishes, and trendy zero-proof spirits? How about if you live in an expensive city, with high labor and real estate costs? How about if the bar has a really cool vibe? All of these factors affect the price point of mocktails–and yes, it’s usually almost as much as a “real” cocktail.

The New York Times tackled the post-pandemic price surge in a 2023 report, “That Mocktail Costs How Much?” The “pricey, spirit-free cocktails” described in the article range from $19 to $26. While acknowledging the struggle of bars and restaurants, the piece is mostly sympathetic to the sober-curious barfly. We all can agree that going out for any kind of drink means paying to support the service industry. But c’mon, folks: There ought to be some middle ground between blowing $80 on a few rounds of mocktails, or staying home and drinking tap water.

The Mocktail Price Creep

I read that New York Times article last year with a sense of foreboding of things to come. I grew up and currently live in Dallas, Texas–which, along with Austin, is experiencing a bad case of Third-Coast Syndrome. In the past two years, the inflation rate here has been higher than anywhere else in the country. The accelerated cost of living has had a pronounced effect on the cost of running a food business–from drive-thru to fine dining–and consequently, on the cost of going out. In designing their menus, restaurateurs in our fast-growing Metroplex are trying to get ahead of the curve by benchmarking their prices against more expensive cities like Miami and New York. (Thanks for the compliment–also, I hate it.)

At the same time, there’s intense competition for diners and the new money from the tech and finance workers pouring into the city. (They’re not calling it “Y’all Street” for nothing.) Bars feel pressured to offer an appealing array of mocktails–because a single abstainer can stop a group from going to an establishment that offers only boring soft drinks and tea. Pricing those bougie mocktails too low cheapens the premium mixology drinks on your menu. Add in the expense-account crowd who don’t care what they’re paying, and there you have it: Everything in a glass is suddenly $15 and up.

All of this can be a real shock to locals. Gone are the $5 beer pitchers and half-price happy hours. At the dive-y to midscale bars I used to frequent, it was the norm that sober friends didn’t have to pay for mixers and garnishes. Non-drinkers accompanied by drinkers could ask for a tonic and lime and not be hassled to open a tab. Likewise, if you were drinking both booze and soft drinks (say, bourbon neat with Coke on the side), no decent bartender would ring up the Coke. These days, when they pass the tablet to let you pay, it’s very likely you’ll see a $5 charge for the soda (along with a 4% service charge and 20-25% suggested gratuity).

As the wine and spirits industry has been noting breathlessly for a few years now, alcohol consumption is on the decline overall. The sober-curious movement is attracting younger, hipper urbanites. This is a demographic who grew up with $6 Starbucks and designer water, and don’t mind swapping their spendy cocktails for spendy mocktails. Restaurants may feel that the higher pricing on mocktails is justified by the newfound coolness of booze-less bevvies.

There’s also the cannabis effect. Statistics show that alcohol consumption is down among under-30s, but cannabis use is way, way up.

This should be obvious to anyone who goes out anywhere. Look around: There’s no line at the bar, but everyone is chucking clouds. Clearly–observably–vaping and weed consumption is filling in for a lot of the drinking that used to happen at clubs and concerts. (Dallas voted to decriminalize marijuana in November 2024.)

I don’t have hard data on this from local businesses, but I would absolutely bet that bars are feeling this consumption shift deep in their balance sheets. Bars can’t sell vapes and weed, so they may be trying to make up for the decline in revenue by pricing both alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks higher.

And the cycle continues: Higher prices mean a lot of customers think twice about having a drink with dinner or buying a round, volume drops further, and menu prices go up even more. All of these factors have led to the general perception that bar pricing–and non-alcoholic drink pricing in particular–is getting totally out of hand.

Hidden Costs

Various writers and commentators have come to the defense of the $15-20 mocktail. There are some good points out there, and I’ll summarize them here as fairly as I can.

So, it’s true that only a portion of the cost of making a cocktail is the liquor. There’s a couple dollars worth of liquor in an average cocktail…then there’s labor, utilities, insurance, glassware, maintenance, marketing, menu printing, shrinkage, cleaning supplies, ice, mixers, garnishes, payment processing fees, etc. These secondary costs are not vastly different whether there’s liquor in the drink or not.

Secondly, zero-proof spirits–a relatively new entry into the mocktail world–are costly for bars and retail buyers alike. They include such brands as Ritual Zero Proof and Seedlip. Alcohol-free distilled spirits are labor-intensive and marketing-intensive, so that a spiritless gin can cost as much as top-shelf gin. There are no well brands yet–nor will there (probably) be anytime soon. Brand-conscious and and health-conscious consumers that have been captured by the zero-proof industry usually demand to know exactly what they’re getting in their drink.

Then there’s the mixers. Bars that are serious about their mocktail game need to stock the latest brands of tonic, seltzer, coconut water, bitters, and a whole bunch of perishable garnishes and juices. Even the stuff coming out of the soda gun isn’t free: Bars and restaurants maintain expensive contracts with distributors to stock their syrup and wrangle their soda snakes.

Perhaps most importantly, there’s the opportunity cost. This means–for lack of a nicer way of saying it–the mocktail drinker is taking up space. Sure, your healthy ass might have ordered a $12 Seedlip “sinless tonic” and a $9 side of olives. You may have tipped well and left after an hour. But in the restaurant’s calculations, that’s a loss compared to the $70 for two glasses of Caymus and the $120 cowboy ribeye that could have been sold to the person hovering in the lobby.

Alcohol is still a hugely important part of any restaurant’s profit margins. In a sense, overpaying for bar nibbles is a way of renting the space that might instead be occupied by a higher-spending wine-drinker and meal-eater.

Okay, But No

I’m just not buying it. Sure, sure, the restaurant biz is tough. Sure, there’s a lot of costs that go into making a cocktail besides just the liquor. But it doesn’t make you feel any better when you get a glorified ginger ale and ice that costs as much as your second course. I mean, what the actual hell?

For starters: Nobody needs to incorporate expensive zero-proof spirits to craft a balanced, tasty non-alcoholic drink. Creative mixologists have been doing it for years. There probably is a place for a couple of alcohol-free spirits on a well-stocked bar because of their popularity and their novelty. But I don’t see the need for most bars (other than dedicated sober bars) to carry a whole line and multiple brands. And if you do use them, maybe suck it up and average out the cost of the spirit over your other drinks? That way nobody has to suffer the indignity of a $16 “no-jito” or “non-garita” made with fake booze.

Another thing: Non-drinkers don’t deserve to be punished. Often, they wouldn’t prefer to be at the bar with their tipsy friends or colleagues. They’re just trying to be game and go along with the group. So don’t extort them with a crazy expensive soda.

You know those New American restaurants that charge the same amount for their single vegetarian entrée (usually baked cauliflower or jackfruit tacos, yawn) as they do for the steak frites, because they presume that the cauliflower-eater has no choice? Yeah, it doesn’t feel great. And worse, it ensures that no omnivore will ever order that dish. To some degree, the menu price should reflect the ingredient costs in a way that makes sense to the average diner.

And finally: Trust your customers. Make your menu appealing, be willing to accommodate reasonable requests–and again, trust your customers. If they feel welcome and well-treated, they’ll take care of your staff. If they leave thinking, “How did I just spend $35 on sugar water?” then it doesn’t matter that you extracted a 400% margin from a couple of mocktails. Nobody’s happy, and nobody has money or goodwill left over for big tips and return visits.

I’ll add a side note to say, there are some places in town that do it well. For instance, Whiskey Cake offers the Jessica Wabbit–made with local mint, carrot and fruit juice, ginger, and Fever-Tree ginger beer–for $5.50. (For reference: A domestic draft beer there is $5, a happy hour wine is $7.) The carroty concoction is delicious, on-theme for the restaurant’s farm-to-market shtick–and it makes use of ingredients that are already on the bar for other drinks. Lazy Dog has a whole menu section of craft lemonades, iced coffee, and booze-less spritzers priced around $5.50, with $1.50 refills. (Cocktail with alcohol are about $10-$14.)

But these are exceptions. The sanely priced non-alcoholic drink is so rare that it really stands out to the frequent diner.

A Bold Formula and a Humble Plea

As I wrap up this mocktail manifesto on the eve of Dry January, I offer a kind entreaty. Next, a specific pricing formula, and finally, an ultimatum.

Let me just put this out there to all the mocktail mixologists and menu engineers (menugineers?) in the industry: Some of us wouldn’t mind being tempted by a concise, creative and affordable alternative drink menu. Some of us would like to enjoy a sober night out, or party at the bar with non-drinking friends, and not be expected to subsidize everything that’s fiscally wrong with the restaurant industry. Some of us would love to love mocktails.

Listen: I’m from the treat-yo-self, latte-and-avocado-toast generation. I appreciate all kinds of mixology and juicecraft, not only the boozy stuff. I have enough DINK-y disposable cash to dine out and drink at bars pretty much whenever (within reason), and even I feel stupid ordering a round of mocktails. I feel really stupid ordering a second round of mocktails.

Ready to talk numbers? Here’s the magic formula to calibrate your mocktail menu pricing to your restaurant’s vibe and location. (And it is not “pick a random drink from your cocktail menu and subtract $1,” which is the math everyone seems to be doing right now.) Behold:

$Mocktail > $Soft Drink

AND

$Mocktail ≤ $Well Drink or $Starter

That’s right: A mocktail can and should cost more than a Coke, but not as much as a premium cocktail (because it’s not really the same thing). A good rule of thumb is that it should be priced about the same as a well drink at your establishment, or the cheapest starter/appetizer on your food menu. That ought to be enough to account for the “barstool time” that the customer is drinking said mocktail, some respectable ingredients, and the labor involved in making it.

In my market (DFW), that’s going to be around $5-$9 in most places. Seriously, 9 bucks is the upper limit for mocktails–and that’s only if it’s something I couldn’t make for myself in two seconds and the place has good service and atmosphere. And bartenders: If a patron wants to nurse an herbal spritzer so they can chat at the bar with their wine-sipping friends, please be willing to top it off with seltzer without being a dick about it.

Keep it focused: I would venture offering a menu of 3-5 mocktails only. (Exception: You have a big sober clientele and mocktails are a specialty.) No need to stock every zero-proof spirit on the market, unless those brands are paying you and/or people are clamoring for them. If you have a really low volume, then consider canned mocktails to cut down on labor and waste–but your prices should reflect that.

Keep it quality: Mixologists, each recipe should have at least one chef-ly ingredient that’s not from a soda gun or a can. (No more frickin’ Shirley Temples, please, unless I’m on a cruise or a kid’s party. These are drinks for adults, remember?) Your premium touch could be a dash of specialty bitters, fresh botanicals, a house-made infusion, or fancy tonic–but I want to see it on the counter or on the menu before I fork over my $7.

To those places that insist on asking entrée prices for their sody-pop drinks: Fine. I’m just going to stick to wine, with a side of delicious Dallas tap water.