By the middle of August, the light in Casper starts to turn. Not cold yet, but the evenings come earlier, the shadows on Casper Mountain stretch out longer, and the air after sundown has that first thin edge to it that tells you fall is loading up somewhere over the Bighorns. I came in from splitting wood the other night, hands cold, and realized I wanted a whiskey. Not a cocktail with a paper umbrella in it. A real one. The kind you stir slow and drink slower.
So this one is the counterweight to the drink I put up back in June. If you followed along this summer, you know I made a Wyoming Honey Whiskey Lemonade that was all brightness and porch-sitting and sun. Great drink. Still stand by it. But this is the other end of the year, and the other end of the mood. This is an Old Fashioned, built on Wyoming Whiskey out of Kirby, and it’s the drink I reach for when the fire’s going and my son is finally asleep.
Why Wyoming Whiskey Belongs in an Old Fashioned
An Old Fashioned is the most honest cocktail there is. It’s whiskey, sugar, bitters, and a twist of orange. That’s it. There’s nowhere to hide. A bad bourbon makes a bad Old Fashioned, full stop, because there’s nothing in the glass to cover for it.
When I profiled the distillery down in Kirby, I kept coming back to that honey-vanilla note in their Small Batch bourbon. In the lemonade it played nice with citrus. Here it does something better: it means you barely need any added sugar at all. The whiskey brings its own sweetness. Wyoming grain, Wyoming water, a bourbon that tastes like the place it’s from, and it holds up beautifully to being stirred down over ice and dressed with nothing but bitters and an orange peel. If you’re going to make a drink with three ingredients, make them count.
Ingredients
For a single Old Fashioned:
- 2 oz Wyoming Whiskey Small Batch bourbon
- 1 sugar cube (or 1 tsp rich simple syrup — see note below)
- 2–3 dashes Angostura bitters
- 1 large orange peel, plus a twist for garnish
- 1 large ice cube (or one big sphere)
- Optional: a Luxardo cherry, if you like one
The Sugar Cube vs. Simple Syrup Debate
People will fight about this. Here’s where I land: the sugar cube is the traditional move, and there’s something I genuinely like about muddling it with the bitters and watching it break down. It feels like you’re making something. But it never fully dissolves, and you’ll get a little grit at the bottom of the glass. If that bugs you, use a teaspoon of rich simple syrup (two parts sugar to one part water) instead. It integrates cleanly and you’ll never know the difference three sips in.
With Wyoming Whiskey, I actually go light either way. That honey note is already doing half the work, so I’d rather under-sweeten and let the bourbon talk.
Instructions
Start with the sugar and bitters. Drop the sugar cube into a heavy rocks glass (or a mixing glass, if you’re being proper about it), hit it with the bitters, and add just a splash of water. Muddle until the sugar mostly breaks down. If you’re using simple syrup, skip the muddling — just add the syrup and bitters together.
Add the whiskey and stir — do not shake. Pour in the 2 oz of Wyoming Whiskey. Add your ice. Then stir, gently, for a good 20 to 30 seconds. This matters. Shaking a spirit-forward drink like this beats air into it and makes it cloudy and thin. Stirring chills and dilutes it just enough while keeping it silky. You want a little water in an Old Fashioned. That’s a feature, not a bug.
Use one big piece of ice. A single large cube or sphere melts slower than a handful of little cubes, which means your drink gets cold without turning to water while you’re still enjoying it. If you drink these as slow as I do, this is the difference between a great last sip and a sad one.
Express the orange peel. This is the step people skip, and it’s the most important one. Cut a wide strip of orange peel, hold it skin-side down over the glass, and pinch it hard. You’ll see a fine mist of oils come off it — that’s the whole point. Rub the peel around the rim, then drop it in. That citrus oil hitting the top of the drink is what makes an Old Fashioned smell like an Old Fashioned.
- Chill your glass first if you can. Ten minutes in the freezer is plenty.
- Fresh bitters matter more than people think. That dusty bottle from a few years back has faded — a fresh one wakes the whole drink up.
- Peel your orange with a Y-peeler and try to avoid the white pith, which is bitter in the bad way.
- Do not over-dilute. Taste as you stir. You can always add ice; you can’t take water back out.
Variations
- Smoked Old Fashioned. If you’ve got a smoking gun or even just a torch and a wood chip, trap some smoke under a glass over the finished drink for 30 seconds. With a bourbon that already tastes like Wyoming, a little woodsmoke is almost too on-the-nose. I love it in October.
- Maple twist. Swap the sugar for a scant teaspoon of real Wyoming or Rocky Mountain maple syrup. It leans into the vanilla in the whiskey and gives you a rounder, cold-weather version. Great after a day in the field.
- Winter spice. One dash of orange bitters alongside the Angostura, and if you’re feeling it, a tiny bruised strip of orange plus a single clove. Don’t overdo the clove — one is a whisper, two is a cough drop.
- Cherry-forward. Muddle a Luxardo cherry in with the sugar for a sweeter, fruitier build — a good move if you like your Old Fashioned on the sweeter side.
What to Pair It With
An Old Fashioned wants something rich and a little smoky next to it. My go-to is my Wyoming BBQ Chicken with a Wyoming Whiskey Glaze — cooking with the same bourbon you’re drinking is one of those things that sounds fussy and is actually just fun. The caramelized, whiskey-glazed skin and the stirred-down bourbon in the glass are singing the same note.
Beyond that: anything off the smoker, a good sharp cheddar, or honestly a plate of elk backstrap done simple. This is a drink that likes fat and char. And if it turns out it’s July when you’re reading this and an Old Fashioned feels like too much coat for the weather, go make the Honey Whiskey Lemonade instead and circle back when the aspens turn.
Pour One Slow
That’s the whole thing. Three ingredients, one good bourbon, and a technique you can master in a single evening. An Old Fashioned isn’t a drink you rush, and August in Wyoming isn’t a season you rush either — the days are still long, but they’re quietly getting shorter, and there’s something worth savoring in both.
If you make it, tag me on Instagram @wyofood or find me over on Facebook at Wyo Food. I want to see your glass, your fire, and your peel-expressing technique. Cheers from Wyoming.
— Sean