Tiki-style fog cutter cocktail with tropical garnish
Photo: Shutter Shoalwater / AI Generated

The Story

So there I was, September 2020. The fog rolled in around 10am—not the wispy, romantic fog you see in photographs. The thick, gray, "planes aren't flying and ferries aren't running" fog. The kind that makes the island feel like it's floating in nothing.

By noon, Steamship Authority had cancelled everything. By 2pm, the tourists realized they weren't leaving. By 4pm, they'd found my bar.

Now, stranded tourists can go one of two ways. They can panic and stress and refresh their phones every thirty seconds hoping for a cancellation update. Or they can accept their fate and start drinking.

This group chose drinking. Smart.

One woman—mid-50s, had a connecting flight to miss—said: "Make me something that feels like cutting through this fog. Something clean. Something that reminds me the sun still exists."

I don't usually take dramatic requests literally. But I was also stranded. I had nowhere to be. And frankly, I wanted to see if I could do it.

Triple Eight vodka because it's Nantucket. Fresh lemon and grapefruit because she wanted clean and bright. Local honey because the fog felt cold. Sea salt rim because we're on an island and salt is in the air anyway.

I shook it until the tin frosted. Strained it into a glass rimmed with gray salt from Nantucket Salt Company. Handed it to her.

She took a sip. Looked out the window at the solid wall of grey. Looked back at the drink. "This is exactly what I asked for," she said. "Can you make twelve more? We're not going anywhere."

The ferry ran at 11pm that night. She almost missed it because she didn't want to stop drinking Fog Cutters.

The Recipe

Glass Rocks
Prep Time 4 min
Difficulty Medium

Ingredients

  • Triple Eight Vodka 2 oz
  • Fresh grapefruit juice 1 oz
  • Fresh lemon juice 1/2 oz
  • Local honey syrup* 3/4 oz
  • Gray sea salt for rim
  • Grapefruit twist for garnish

*Honey syrup: Equal parts honey and warm water, stirred until combined. Keeps refrigerated for weeks.

Instructions

  1. Rim the glass. Wet half the rim with a grapefruit wedge, then dip in gray sea salt. I rim only half so people can choose their experience.
  2. Combine in shaker. Add vodka, grapefruit juice, lemon juice, and honey syrup to a shaker with ice.
  3. Shake vigorously. Really shake it—you want this cold and slightly diluted. 20 seconds minimum.
  4. Strain into rimmed glass. Over fresh ice. The contrast of cold drink and salty rim is the whole point.
  5. Garnish with grapefruit twist. Express the oils over the drink first.
  6. Look out the window. Even if there's no fog. The drink works better with atmosphere.

Porter's Notes

The honey syrup is crucial. Regular simple syrup makes this too sharp; the honey rounds it out and adds warmth without weight. If you're using mainland honey, that's fine, but Nantucket honey from the island's apiaries has a subtle floral note that I miss when it's not there.

The gray salt rim is theatrical, but it works. It references the Grey Lady without hitting you over the head with the metaphor. Plus it looks like fog. Kind of.

The Cisco Connection

Triple Eight Vodka is distilled eight times from grain and filtered through granite sand. They use Nantucket well water—same aquifer that's been supplying the island for centuries. It's clean and smooth, which is exactly what you want for a citrus-forward drink like this.

The distillery is named for Nantucket's area code: 508 (five-oh-eight... eight... Triple Eight). I asked Randy Hudson about it once. He said the name made sense after a few drinks. I didn't push for details.

Serve This When...

  • The fog actually rolls in and you're stuck
  • Someone needs cheering up about travel delays
  • You want something bright and clean with substance
  • You're explaining what September on Nantucket is really like

The Honest Truth

This drink is best with Triple Eight, but any quality vodka will do the job. What really matters is fresh citrus—don't even think about bottled juice—and real honey. Cheap honey is just sugar syrup with delusions of grandeur.

The gray salt is harder to source on the mainland. Regular sea salt works, though you lose some of the visual poetry. Sometimes sacrifices must be made.