The Tony Scaduto
A modern classic cocktail inspired by Cocktail's legendary sales manager
Tony Scaduto, the sales manager? I thought he was in Mexico.
The film Cocktail (1988) has more depth than you might think — so much more, in fact, that I co-hosted a 21-episode podcast dissecting it in excessive detail. One such detail is the easily overlooked and wholly unseen character Tony Scaduto. Tony works as a sales manager for Bonnie (Lisa Banes), the wealthy New York business magnate who is courted by main character Brian Flanagan (Tom Cruise) in an attempt to land a sales job at her firm.
One morning, Brian wakes up to a request from Bonnie to fetch her carrot juice from the refrigerator, but he’s more interested in who she’s chatting with on the phone: the legendary sales manager Tony Scaduto. Tony got back on Friday from Mexico and is hard at work dispatching salesman Harvey to Dallas to secure an at-risk deal. As we learn, Brian would love to get in on this action with his marketing ideas, but Bonnie is keeping him at arm’s length from the business to avoid “shoving my boyfriend down their throat”.
In creating a cocktail inspired by everyone’s favorite sales manager, my co-host Hervey and I aimed to capture both Tony’s Mexican sojourn (tequila, lime) and Bonnie’s early-morning health routine (carrot juice). We polished it off with the flavor of the tropics (where Brian and Bonnie met) represented with pineapple preserves, and Himalayan pink salt to evoke the gauzy pink decor in Bonnie’s apartment. What we created could be considered an instant modern classic cocktail: simple, perfect, timeless.
Here’s what Hervey had to say about it:
Perfect.
This is a perfect cocktail; a historic moment has been realized on-air, easily tantamount to the mythical coupling of gin and vermouth in Martinez, CA. The Tony Scaduto is one of the four or five most important cocktails ever created.
Notes on acquisition: unlike Bonnie's 1980s, it's hard to find carrot juices these days; the large local supermarket only had one in stock. The pineapple preserves had to be bought in bulk (it isn't the easiest ingredient to deal with, a sticky ball of goo, and as a small nit, it leaves a bit of preserve residue at the end.)
The Tony Scaduto opens with a deep carrot nose, bristly and rooty. This begins something of a back-to-the-soil narrative: in the Scaduto, an inverted daquiri of sorts, we see the crisp wistfulness of Havana bars transformed into the rustic, vegetables replacing fruit. The masculine drink of Hemingway's day transformed into the pastel feminine shades of Bonnie's 1980s NYC apartment.
The drink gains width into arena of lime, balanced against brackish rim, furthering widening into earthy carrot and agave, wow. Widening further and further, almost to excess, it's a peaceful lazy river sort of vibe, delicate and with an elegant haiku bliss.
Like all the best cocktails, the Tony Scaduto feels weightless.
Perfect.
And here’s what I had to say about it:
This is a good drink. It feels basic and elementary, like it should be a standard staple at every bar in the world. The earthiness of the carrot juice balanced well with the lime and tequila, creating something pleasant and not too sweet. The world may one day come to love the Tony Scaduto.
The Tony Scaduto
1½ oz tequila
1 oz carrot juice
1 tbsp pineapple preserves
½ oz lime juice
Shake with ice. Strain into large cocktail glass rimmed with Himalayan pink salt. Garnish with lime slice.
☞ Alan Joyce & Mark Mollineaux / An Earful of Cocktail
