Could the Paper Plane be the perfect cocktail?
I love a Martini. I’m happy to whisper sweet words to a well-made Old Fashioned. I’ve fallen head over heels for a Negroni on a good patio. But hear me out: While all of the above are well and good, the Paper Plane is the perfect drink.
Made from equal portions of bourbon, Amaro Nonino, Aperol and lemon juice, the new-school classic cocktail has a kiss of booze, a bright hit of citrus and an herbal allure from the addition of amaro. The recipe is foolproof: just one ounce of everything, shake and pour.
The resulting drink is bold and bitter, but refreshingly citrus-driven and highly drinkable. It’s easy to execute—there are no odd or esoteric ingredients—and endlessly riffable (soup up the recipe with seasonal ingredients or swap in your favourite whisky).
“The great thing about a Paper Plane is that its vibe is super adaptable,” says Avi Kunen, the bar manager of Kissa Tanto in Vancouver. “It can start off a night, play and pair well with food, and wind down a dinner. You can be chic and sophisticated with it on a first date, or drink five of them on a rowdy boys’ night. Hell, it even works as a brunch drink.”
“I think one of the biggest draws of a Paper Plane is that anyone can drink it and be happy,” says Mat Locke, the bar manager at the newly opened Bar Asra in Vancouver’s South Granville neighbourhood. “From die-hard Old Fashioned fans to vodka-cranberry drinkers.”
“I love the Paper Plane because of its balance and simplicity,” Kunen continues. “Just four ingredients that you’d find behind any bar that takes cocktails even a little bit seriously, an equal-parts recipe, and no garnish!”
A modern classic
The Paper Plane was invented in the late aughts by Sam Ross, who was a bartender at New York’s infamous and industry-defining Milk & Honey. He was riffing and reworking the Last Word—another equal-parts classic cocktail. But instead of punchy, herbal Chartreuse, he brought in Campari for sweetness and Amaro for herbaceousness.
Playing on the bar’s radio? M.I.A.’s Paper Planes.
His final recipe landed on 0.75 ounces each of bourbon, Aperol, Amaro Nonino and lemon juice, shaken till it’s icy.
“For those who have yet to try it, this cocktail has a beautiful balance and equal parts of bold whiskey, vibrant Aperol, bittersweet amaro, and refreshing citrus,” says Nathan Murray, the bar manager at aKin, chef Eric Chong’s new tasting-menu destination in downtown Toronto. “Perfect for both seasoned cocktail lovers and rookies to the bar scene, this modern classic is sure to be a certified crowd pleaser.”
And while it’s been less than 20 years since the Paper Plane’s first flight, it’s now become a staple at great bars. “It’s one of the first modern classic cocktails,” says Kunen. It’s a popular drink but not overly so; cool, but not exceedingly everywhere like the Aperol Spritz or the Dirty Martini.
“People who order them feel like they’re part of an exclusive club that already knows about Daiquiris, Last Words and Old Fashioneds, and has moved onto newer, fresher drinks,” Kunen adds.
The Paper Plane’s easy approachability is proven to win over even the staunchest bourbon drinkers. “My preferred method of drinking bourbon is neat,” says Leanne Roy, the Jill-of-all-trades at John Sleeman & Sons, a newly revived historic Canadian distillery. “I don’t often consider it one of the more refreshing spirits, but the Paper Plane proves me wrong every time.”
“It’s a tightrope walker between herbal sour and mellow sweet,” Roy continues. “It’s the handshake between dazzling and comforting; the cocktail I choose when I’ve had enough of refreshing bubbly drinks and I want to ease into the part of the night where I pour myself a straight dram.”
And bartenders—home ones included—can tweak the recipe to the weather or vibe. Saffron in New Orleans uses bourbon, ghee-smoked peach Aperol, lemon and star anise. New York’s famed PDT ditches the lemon juice and adds muddled mint instead. These aren’t the first riffs: Joaquin Simo, former owner of Pouring Ribbons, turned the Paper Plane into the Naked and Famous, a smoky, citrusy, herbal drink made with equal parts mezcal, yellow Chartreuse, Aperol and lime juice.
A bartender’s blueprint
For Murray, the Paper Plane is a blueprint—a blank canvas for building new flavours. His bar program leans into tea, so he swaps out citrus for an acidulated green tea blended with toasted brown rice. He also highlights Canadian whisky instead of the classic bourbon. It’s for patriotism’s sake, but also gives the cocktail a lighter profile. “The result: a flavour profile that is sure to surprise even the most seasoned Paper Plane drinker.”
Locke’s more into Japanese whisky. His Niigata Paper Plane gets a heftier pour of that, then balances out the alcohol by skipping Aperol in favour of a zero-proof bitter orange aperitivo.
Or, try tequila, swap in your favourite brown spirit or add effervescence.
“A spritzed paper plane is a wonderful morning option,” Kunen says. He’ll play around with seasonal infusions (try rhubarb infused into Campari) or, swap in Japanese whisky for a more suave, elegant take.
Kayla Thompson, a bartender at Waterworks Bar in Toronto’s Waterworks Food Hall, likes to swap out bourbon for cinnamon whisky in the colder months. “It gives it a warm feel and an intriguing taste,” she says. “In the warmer months, I like to add pineapple juice for a tropical twist.”
Elise Hanson, the bar manager of Civil Works, one of Toronto’s best bars, tags in mezcal instead of bourbon. She’ll also dial back the sweeter components in the recipe (Aperol and Amaro Nonino) to give it a slightly drier profile. Or, she’ll punch up the bitterness by swapping Aperol for Campari and Amaro Nonino for Cynar.
“The Paper Plane is a beautifully balanced cocktail that has a universal appeal,” she says. “Its simplicity makes it both approachable and endlessly customizable, allowing it to be tailored to suit any guest’s preferences.”
Essentially? The Paper Plane is everything and anything you want it to be.
