How Weird Can You Make Your Flip?

The Death Flip and the outer limits of whole egg cocktails.

In last week’s newsletter, we looked at the New York Flip, a classic of the whole-egg cocktail genre that combines a whole egg with cream, port, and bourbon. And then we took that drink and, with some straightforward substitutions, transformed it into an even more familiar, conventional cocktail format — the Manhattan — with some egg and cream to round it out. 

Now that we’ve demonstrated the flexibility of the flip format and the way it can serve as a platform for well-known cocktail conversions, let’s move on to some more advanced flips that stretch the limits of what the format can achieve. 

We’ll start with the weirdest flip I know of that has had some traction — the Death Flip, an earthy, herbal, bitter drink that uses some…well, let’s call them unexpected ingredients — specifically, Yellow Chartreuese and Jagermeister. 

And then we’ll take the core idea and structure of that drink and use it to make a riff or two with ingredients that are less expensive, more accessible, and more likely to be on your bar cart already. 

Yes, Cynar is involved. It’ll be…eggs-cellent.¹ 

Death Becomes Her

The Death Flip is, somehow, the most famous new flip of the last 20 years or so. That probably has something to do not only with the name but with the way it was initially described on the menu. Created by Chris Hysted-Adams in 2010 at the Black Pearl in Melbourne, Australia, the initial menu listing specified no ingredients. Instead, it just said: “You don’t wanna meet this cocktail in a dark alley.”

It was a dare, and by all accounts it rather quickly became a hit. Customers didn’t know what was in it. But they knew it was quite tasty. 

If only they’d known. The actual recipe is a combination of whole egg (hence the “flip” designation) plus tequila, syrup, Yellow Chartreuse, and Jägermeister. 

In general, I try to leave historical counterfactuals to Harry Turtledove. But I do wonder: If the menu had ditched the warning and just said: tequila, Chartreuse, Jägermeister, syrup, whole egg — would anyone have tried this cocktail? Would anyone have liked it? 

I’ve written before about the power of storytelling and suggestion in cocktail design and naming. This drink, which has since been featured in multiple cocktail recipe books, offers more evidence that cocktails thrive at least in part because of how they are named, explained, and marketed. 

In any case, we now have the precise recipe for the Death Flip, and if you have the ingredients on hand, it’s relatively easy to make at home. 

Death Flip

• 1 whole egg

• 1 teaspoon simple syrup*

• ½ ounce yellow Chartreuse

• ½ ounce Jägermeister

• 1 ounce blanc tequila (such as Espolon)

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker. 

2. Shake hard for 10-12 seconds WITHOUT ice, to integrate and emulsify. 

3. Add ice, then shake for another 10-12 seconds to chill and dilute. 

4. Strain into a glass. Garnish with grated nutmeg.

*Simple syrup: Combine one part sugar and one part water, by weight, in a blender. Blend on high until thoroughly combined, about 2-3 minutes. Bottle and store in the fridge for a month or more.

Like I said, it’s relatively easy to make — if you have the ingredients. But that’s a big if. Sure, tequila, syrup, and egg are easy enough to find. But only weirdos like me keep Jägermeister around. 

And thanks to production changes, yellow Chartreuse is increasingly difficult to find and/or quite expensive. In states with allocations and price controls, it’s a dice roll whether you’ll be able to find a bottle in your area. In areas like Washington, D.C., which has no price controls or government middlemen controlling supply, it’s quite expensive, with many stores pricing bottles around $100 or so, and sometimes far more. 

One option is to swap out the yellow Chartreuse for Genepy de Alpes, a French herbal liqueur. Flavor-wise, it’s not a perfect substitute, but it plays the same role quite well. If you’re trying to make a Death Flip without springing for Chartreuese — which, actually, totally reasonable! — this is the way to go. 

It’s Time to Rebuild

Another option, however, would be to break down the core elements of the cocktail and then construct something that functions the same way. 

We’ve done this any number of times in this space going all the way back to the multiple riffs on Death & Co.’s Voyager we looked at during this newsletter’s very first year. And we can do it again here.