Ponder Cuba’s Fate With the Silky, Balanced Presidente Cocktail

Sunday Cocktail Corner is a series dedicated to finding just the right libation for the situation.

I know my attention as a politics writer should probably remain focused on the ongoing clusterfuck in the Middle East that seems destined to yield $5 gasoline any time now, but my curiosity and empathy can’t help but drift back to another topic time and time again: The slow strangulation the United States continues to perpetuate on Cuba as we attempt to vaguely implement some sort of regime change primarily by inflicting starvation on its people and just hoping the country will turn into a capitalist oligarchy overnight.

It’s not good, folks. Cuba has been teetering on the brink of full-on, anarchic collapse for months, and American media has barely batted an eye on topics such as island-wide complete blackouts that have people dying in hospitals without care, thanks to the fuel oil the United States has both diplomatically and physically blocked from reaching the island. The sheer number of crises the innocent civilians of the island are facing are staggering: Beyond the hyper-inflation of scarcity and the lack of access to reliable power or fuel, or the collapse of local food production, there has also been a predictable breakdown in government services like garbage collection, leading to burning piles of trash and deadly fumes on many street corners. Debilitating diseases have run rampant, such as mosquito-borne chikungunya and dengue. It’s little wonder that the overall Cuban population has rapidly declined since roughly 2020 via deaths and people fleeing the island, from an estimation of 11 million to perhaps 9.5 million today in just half a decade. A combination of ineffective governance and U.S. machinations have made the island into a place struggling badly to sustain human life.

But don’t worry, the U.S. is going to help, just as soon as we finish starving the people into surrender. American capitalists and think-tanks, and U.S.-approved Cuban economists are salivating over the prospects of reintroducing free-market capitalism to the country as an excuse for American corporations to barge in and scoop up anything of value. Donald Trump keeps on threatening to put Cuba hawk Marco Rubio effectively in charge as a shadow ruler, which would be impressive in the sense that he’s already known as the viceroy of Venezuela and is personally approving the social media posts of its fake leaders after the ouster of Nicolas Maduro. Even as the Trump administration flails in Iran and drives the global economy into the gutter, it’s still making time on the side to announce the occasional justification for us sacking Cuba whenever we feel like getting around to it: Just this week, the Trump admin claimed that Cuba, despite not being able to even keep its lights on, has been “infiltrating the highest levels of the U.S. government” to “encourage domestic unrest.” Oh no! Guess we’d better invade or whatever, right?

As ever, though, confronted by such a depressing future headline–we’ll get to it once Iran is dealt with, I guess?–my compulsion is of course to find the right cocktail for the situation. And when I think about Cuba, there are obviously a few cocktails that everyone first pictures. The mojito. The daiquiri. We just did Papa’s famous Hemingway Daiquiri just last week, in fact, complete with its absurd origin story of a daiquiri with “twice the rum and no sugar,” something that would make a truly foul drink in reality. But there’s another Cuban classic that is a bit more refined and contemplative than either of those classic, related sours: The El Presidente cocktail.

The Presidente is a classic pre-Prohibition Cuban creation, from the era when Americans treated Cuba as a tropical booze-and-beach club. It was most likely named for President Mario García Menocal, who was the country’s leader during the era when Prohibition descended on America. The 18th Amendment effectively turned Cuba into a glittering alcohol paradise for Americans who had the means to travel: People flocked there for its weather and potent rum cocktails, and the Presidente was a popular potable of its day, although one that was largely forgotten until being reintroduced during the 2000s craft cocktail revival.

I’ve seen the Presidente described by some as being like a “rum Manhattan,” but it sort of splits the difference in that designation and something more like a rum martini. It combines unaged or lightly aged white rum with what old-timey recipe books refer to as “French vermouth.” In the modern day, too many bars or guides simply interpret this as modern dry vermouth, when it actually more accurately calls for blanc vermouth, which is also white/clear, but has more body, sweetness and supple texture than the dry vermouth so often used in martinis. To that, many recipes also add small amounts of orange curacao and a little grenadine for color. With that said, you’ll find some VERY different recipes for the Presidente in terms of ratios: Although a site like liquor.com is usually a good resource, their Presidente recipe notably spites the vermouth and has little in common with the half-and-half recipe offered by cocktail historian David Wondrich, who functions as the final say on these sorts of things. When in doubt, go with the guy who has the primary Cuba sources to call on.

El Presidente Cocktail Recipe

— 1.5 oz white rum
— 1.5 oz blanc vermouth
— 1 barspoon orange curacao
— 1 barspoon grenadine

Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker/drink tin/mixing glass with ice. Stir well to chill and dilute. DO NOT SHAKE. Strain into a coupe or Nick & Nora glass. Traditional garnish is a twist or lemon or especially orange peel.

Unlike the crisp, bright, sweet-sour combination of say, a daiquiri, which is a flavor profile that rolls up and aggressively announces itself with gusto, the Presidente is a significantly more subtle, nuanced sort of cocktail. It’s not a sour, for one! This can actually be a little disconcerting if you go into tasting the drink expecting it to be a daiquiri, because it’s not that. The Presidente is more of a texturally interesting cocktail, especially with the Wondrich 1:1 ratio of rum and blanc vermouth. It is smooth and silky, rich but not overtly sweet. It has just a hint of real residual sweetness, and flashes of citrus, but without the acidity of lime juice. It drinks much better as it warms up than a daiquiri, and feels less explicitly like a hot weather drink. It has some interesting layers.

An El Presidente to start the weekend. Rum cocktails always feel right for warm weather and this is a good one.

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— Kate Evans (@borderminstrel.bsky.social) 1:26 PM · Jul 10, 2026

In terms of the rum, you’re probably best served here with something that isn’t particularly intense or funky. Someone like Wondrich calls for a “rich white rum,” which could mean something with a little body and residual sweetness, but it’s not really a cocktail built for the huge, funky, Jamaican rum profile. Maybe some basic, unaged or lightly aged rum from Barbados, Trinidad or Puerto Rico? One thing I do think might be interesting? Subbing in the grassy, earthy tones of white rhum agricole from Martinique or Guadeloupe. That would probably be an experiment worth trying.

Perhaps you could argue, at the end of the day, that the quagmire in Iran has managed to postpone Cuba’s judgement. Who knows: If the conflict in the Middle East simply stretches on all the way into the fall and a corresponding blue wave smashes its way through Congress, maybe the likes of Trump and Rubio will be rendered so toothless that they’ll back off from whatever they still have planned for the American neighbor only 90 miles off our shore–although one wonders if that would matter, if our policy is still to aid and abet the Cuban people being starved on a mass scale. Still, one has to figure that any humiliation for Trump would likely inspire a few Cubans, somewhere, to toast with a Presidente. Wherever they are, we’ll be joining them.