Mocktails Cost $15 and Nobody Knows Why

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Matt Lessman, CFP®

COO
Mint Hill Wealth Management

Clara Choi gets a funny feeling from the drinks she sips when she goes out with friends. 

The fruity, brightly colored concoctions typically incorporate juices and syrups. They contain no alcohol, but they still make Choi wince and leave her with a different kind of hangover. 

“It looks pretty, but it’s literally a layer of grape juice and orange juice,” said Choi, a 30-year-old Southern California foodie working in higher education. “They are definitely gouging.”


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So-called mocktails are lingering on bar and restaurant menus long past Dry January—into Dry July, Sober October and beyond. More Americans are forgoing alcohol as they prioritize health over catching a buzz. 

Not wanting to be empty-handed, many of the sober or sober-curious are ordering up nonalcoholic cocktails instead. The concoctions’ high-proof price tags, though, are frustrating drinkers who are skeptical that the cost of syrups, sodas and fake spirits can rival the real thing.

Mina Wallis doesn’t drink. The 24-year-old transcriptionist often orders Shirley Temples when she goes out, and said some spots now charge more than $10 for the mix of ginger ale, grenadine and a maraschino cherry. That’s steeper than some alcoholic drinks. 

The Australian native said she’s sipping more lemonade and orange juice as a result. “[Businesses] are probably losing money because I’m not having four espresso martinis a night, but I think some of the prices are just unjustifiable,” Wallis said.

Dan Hauser, 37, of Niles, Ill., estimated that his roughly 10 months of sobriety has saved him more than $6,000—after he got wise to alcohol-free drinks’ pricing. 

“You can’t price them like that, if they’re even remotely close to the price of a real cocktail,” Hauser said. He sticks to Topo Chico, Diet Coke and ice tea.

Roughly a half-million cases of nonalcoholic spirits were sold in the U.S. in 2024, more than 10 times the amount sold five years earlier, according to global data and insights provider IWSR. 

Even chains like Texas Roadhouse—known for its draft beers and margaritas—are adding virgin Strawberry Cucumber Fizzes and Sparkling Berry Blisses to their menus. With alcohol sales steadily dropping from highs coming out of the pandemic, executives say chains need to adapt.

Mocktails served at bars and restaurants averaged $8.61 a drink at the end of last year, according to market-research firm Technomic. That’s up from the prior three-month period, but below the $13.43 average for cocktails.

Bar owners say making libations with fake spirits doesn’t come cheap. 

At the Understory cocktail bar in San Diego, mocktails go for around $15, a dollar less than the cheapest mixed drinks. The bar serves drinks with Seedlip and Ritual Zero Proof nonalcoholic liqueurs, which each cost the bar around $24 a bottle to purchase, said Chance Curtis, Understory’s general manager.

“It’s the same price as spirits. We have to price accordingly,” Curtis said. 

In Philadelphia, Cavanaugh’s Rittenhouse sports bar sells an ‘Acai You’ faux gin drink and a Phony Negroni for $8 and $12, respectively. The shots of St. Agrestis nonalcoholic spirits or Ritual Zero Proof Gin alongside mixers cost the bar around $2 per drink, about the same as alcoholic versions.

“My staff thinks it’s crazy, but it’s a lifestyle choice,” Mike Anderson, the sports bar’s general manager, said of people going to bars and ordering pricey nonalcoholic drinks.

Distillers say making virgin versions of tequila, gin and whiskey is a process akin to alchemy. Iván Saldaña, a master distiller who has made 15 different full-proof spirits, said cracking the code on a distilled, nonalcoholic blue agave spirit took about two years of trial and error. 

Saldaña harnessed a mushroom to stave off spoilage. He fostered the viscosity and aromas of the blue agave through a concoction of sugar, vinegar, bit of acid and other natural ingredients.

The process took as long as making a tequila, with a cost to match. Almave’s “blanco expression” costs $36.99 a bottle and its Ámbar liquid brand goes for $39.99, according to Casa Lumbre Spirits, the company behind the brand. 

Saldaña, who has begun to drink less alcohol as he has gotten older, disdains the mocktail moniker. He sees it alienating sophisticated drinkers who he believes could sample his nonalcoholic spirits in between traditional libations.

“Mocking is not good,” he said.  

Beth Stratton, a 37-year-old physical therapist assistant from Michigan, said she prefers something less sweet than solely juice-based drinks. 

But for Stratton and her sister, who quit drinking, locating bars that serve mocktails is like hunting down a speakeasy during Prohibition. “You have to rely on other people to find those places,” she said.

At Supperland in Charlotte, N.C., the upscale restaurant and bar still sells juice-based drinks for $7, but now also lists alcohol-free takes on gin and tonics and tropical drinks for between $12 and $16.

Supperland’s beverage director Colleen Hughes said she trains her servers to steer parents away from the drinks spiked with liquor alternatives, to avoid unhappy children. “These have adult flavors,” she said.

Prices, too. Supperland recently added a nonalcoholic sparkling wine to its menu at $75 a bottle. Some customers have requested nonalcoholic options for Supperland’s tasting menu events, starting at $175 per person, so they don’t feel left out with their drinking friends. 

“People willing to spend that much on nonalcoholic cocktails is bananas,” Hughes said. 

Jake Hopkins has curbed his drinking after 12 years of DJing and clubbing. Mocktail prices can “definitely feel a bit like the bar is trying to juice you,” said the 34-year-old working in artificial intelligence. 

But he’s convinced that paying $13 to $15 for alcohol-free “potions”—which contain nonalcoholic elderflower spirits, butterfly pea flower, rose quartz crystals and lily garnish—at places like Denver’s Honey Elixir Bar is still a better deal than the alternative.

“The drinks always taste good,” Hopkins said, “and I never end up at a sketchy after party at 5 a.m.” 

Write to Heather Haddon at heather.haddon@wsj.com and Laura Cooper at laura.cooper@wsj.com

This Wall Street Journal article was legally licensed by AdvisorStream.

Matt Lessman profile photo

Matt Lessman, CFP®

COO
Mint Hill Wealth Management