Looking for a citrus bomb that’ll make your taste buds question everything? The Yuzu Gimlet isn’t your grandfather’s boring-ass gin drink. This is what happens when Japanese sophistication meets British gin tradition and decides to throw a party in your mouth.
In recent years, yuzu has gained popularity in Western cuisine, particularly in gourmet restaurants and bars, where it is used in cocktails and desserts.
The Yuzu Gimlet is typically served in a coupe glass. A coupe is that elegant, wide-brimmed glass that makes you look like you know what you’re doing with your life. If you don’t have a coupe, use a martini glass and pretend you’re sophisticated.
The Best Ingredients For a Yuzu Gimlet
- Gin: Hendrick’s ($35) plays beautifully with the yuzu, or go with Botanist ($40) for extra floral notes. Budget option? Bombay Sapphire ($25) won’t disappoint.
- Yuzu Juice: Fresh if you can find it, but Yakami Orchard bottled yuzu works perfectly. Don’t even think about substituting regular lime.
- Simple Syrup: Make your own 1:1 ratio or grab some quality stuff. This isn’t rocket science, people.
- Yuzu Zest: For garnish. Because we’re not animals here.
Fun Fact
Yuzu costs about $200 per pound fresh because it’s harder to find than a reasonable politician in 2025.
Why I Like It
The Yuzu Gimlet is what happens when East meets West and they both agree to get absolutely hammered together. It’s like a regular gimlet went to Tokyo, got a PhD in flavor complexity, and came back speaking fluent sophistication.

While everyone’s still making basic bitch Moscow Mules and thinking they’re craft cocktail experts, you’re over here sipping liquid enlightenment. This drink makes you feel like you should be discussing cryptocurrency investments or at least pretending to understand NFTs.
A Brief History of the Yuzu Gimlet
The traditional gimlet has been around since the British Navy needed to prevent scurvy without dying of boredom. Some genius naval officer realized that gin and lime juice was infinitely more palatable than straight citrus medicine.
Fast-forward to the 2000s when Japanese cuisine exploded globally and bartenders discovered yuzu. Suddenly, every mixologist worth their salt was trying to figure out how to incorporate this magical citrus that tastes like a threesome between a lemon, lime, and grapefruit.
The yuzu gimlet emerged during the craft cocktail renaissance when bartenders realized they could charge $18 for a drink if they used an ingredient most people couldn’t pronounce. Brilliant marketing, really.
Two parts gin, one part yuzu juice, half part simple syrup—boom, you’re drinking like you own a sake brewery in Kyoto.
Now every pretentious cocktail bar from Brooklyn to Beverly Hills has some variation on their menu. And honestly? Good for them. This drink deserves the hype more than most political candidates deserve their campaign contributions.
The beauty of this cocktail is that it bridges cultures without being some fusion disaster. It’s not trying to be everything to everyone—it’s just being the best version of itself, which is more than I can say for most content on social media these days.
Speaking of social media, this drink photographs better than most influencers. That pale yellow color with the delicate foam top? Pure Instagram gold. You could probably finance a small business just from the likes this thing generates.
But here’s what really gets me going about the Yuzu Gimlet—it’s deceptively simple yet impossibly complex. Three ingredients that somehow create a flavor profile more interesting than most people’s entire personalities.
The gin provides the botanical backbone, the yuzu delivers that unique citrus complexity that makes your brain do a double-take, and the simple syrup just sits there being the diplomatic mediator, making sure everyone plays nice.
And let’s talk about yuzu for a hot second. This isn’t just another citrus trying to be special. Yuzu has been cultivating sophistication in Japan for over a thousand years while limes were still figuring out how to not be boring.
The flavor hits different levels of your palate like a well-orchestrated symphony, assuming symphonies could get you properly fucked up. First you get the bright acidity, then these floral notes creep in, followed by this almost mystical complexity that makes you question everything you thought you knew about citrus.
It’s the kind of ingredient that makes other bartenders jealous and customers feel like they’re part of some exclusive club. Which, let’s be honest, they kind of are. Not everyone has access to quality yuzu, and not everyone appreciates what it brings to the table.
Final Thoughts 🎉
The Yuzu Gimlet is proof that sometimes the best things happen when different worlds collide and decide to make beautiful music together. At around 190 calories, it’s reasonable enough that you won’t hate yourself in the morning, assuming you stop at one or two.





























