The bartender’s secret ingredient that nobody asked for
For the last few years there has been a small but persistent trend in higher-end cocktail bars of using Marmite as a savoury cocktail ingredient. The logic is sound: Marmite is concentrated umami, umami works in cocktails the same way it works in food, and the more interesting bars are running out of obvious savoury options.
Whether any of the results are worth ordering is a separate question. Below, an honest field guide.
The Marmite Bloody Mary: yes, obviously
This is the only no-brainer in the category. A Bloody Mary is already a savoury cocktail, the tomato juice already carries umami, the celery salt and Worcestershire are already doing variations on the same theme. A quarter-teaspoon of Marmite, dissolved in a splash of hot tomato juice and stirred back into the cocktail, makes a Bloody Mary that is properly long and properly savoury without tipping into “salty water”.
This one works. Order it if you see it.
The Marmite Old Fashioned: surprisingly yes
The one I genuinely did not expect. The bourbon Old Fashioned is built on caramelised brown sugar, bitters, and orange peel. Marmite plays in roughly the same flavour register as caramelised sugar (back to the Maillard-reaction point again), and a tiny amount stirred into the syrup before the whiskey goes in gives the drink a longer, slightly meatier finish.
I had this at a bar in Hoxton a couple of years ago and it changed my mind on the whole category. If you see a Marmite Old Fashioned, try it. If the bartender has been heavy-handed it will be terrible, but if they have the dose right it is genuinely interesting.
The Marmite Martini: no, generally
A dry martini is gin or vodka and almost nothing else. The whole architecture is icy alcohol and a single aromatic note. Adding Marmite to that is like adding marmalade to a glass of chilled white burgundy. You can do it. You will not enjoy it.
Some bars are doing a Marmite-rimmed martini glass instead, which is fractionally less awful, because at least you can choose how often to engage with the rim. But mostly: no.
The Marmite Espresso Martini: actively bad
Espresso martinis are already too sweet for some people and too coffee-y for others. Adding Marmite gives you a third axis of “and also salty”, which means the drink now has three competing things shouting at the tongue, none of which is winning. Hard pass.
The Marmite-rimmed glass: a cheat
Salt-rimming a margarita is a respectable tradition. Marmite-rimming a savoury cocktail is, frankly, a cheat. It lets the bar claim it has a Marmite drink without actually having to integrate the flavour into the cocktail. The rim is intense, the drink underneath is whatever you ordered with no Marmite in it at all, and the two have an awkward conversation across each sip.
I have seen this done well exactly once, with a Marmite-and-celery-salt rim on a particularly herbaceous gin cocktail. Otherwise it is the bar phoning it in.
The home cook’s version
If you want to try this at home, the entry point is the Bloody Mary. Make your usual recipe, dissolve a small piece of Marmite (about the size of a pea) into a tablespoon of hot tomato juice, stir it back into the cocktail. That is the entire trick. Adjust salt accordingly, because Marmite is already salty and you do not need additional seasoning.
The rest of the category is the bartender’s problem, not yours.
Anyway
The savoury cocktail movement is mostly a good thing. It has given us better Bloody Marys, the occasional excellent Old Fashioned, and a generation of cocktail bars willing to try something other than another aperol spritz variant. Marmite has earned a small place in that movement. Not a starring role, not the headline act, just a useful supporting ingredient in the right hands.
