The recipe varies from place to place, it’s largely unknown in this end of the state and even its biggest proponents don’t much care for the taste.
Still, the Picon Punch has become our official state drink, which just may rank among the most Nevada things ever.
“Way before I was old enough to drink ’em, I just got fascinated with these — less because it was a cocktail and more because it’s really a ritual,” says Mark Maynard, whose short film “Piconland” explores the history of the Northern Nevada staple.
“If you go into a bar, there’s inevitably somebody from out of town or a friend who hasn’t tried one,” he says. “And so it becomes the indoctrination ritual. ‘You’ve gotta have one of these!’ ”
The phrase often registers somewhere between an endorsement and a challenge.
The namesake main ingredient is an orange liqueur concocted in France in 1837 by Gaétan Picon, yet the Picon Punch was created in the American West. It became a favorite of Basque immigrants from the corners of France and Spain who encountered it in the Basque boarding houses of Reno, Elko, Gardnerville and Winnemucca, where it’s still popular today.
“One of the biggest cocktail cities in the country really knows nothing about this cocktail. It’s so regional,” Maynard says of the drink’s relative anonymity in Las Vegas. “I think Tonopah is probably about the closest you can get one.”
‘A very loose recipe’
Everyone seems to agree that you can’t have a Picon Punch without Amer Picon, or in most cases Ferino Amer. With Amer Picon becoming increasingly hard to obtain in the U.S., syrup maker Torani gifted the recipe for its liqueur — with its notes of bitter orange, cinchona bark, gentian and hints of mint — to Reno’s Ferino Distillery, which took over production last year.
Beyond that, what Maynard refers to as “a very loose recipe” calls for grenadine, brandy, a lemon peel and club soda — unless you’re in Elko, where they stopped using club soda during a shortage and never went back.
“Because it’s a made-in-the-glass cocktail, it’s all done by eyeball,” Maynard says. “I’ve never seen anyone make a Picon Punch with a jigger. It’s always just a pour.”
The cocktail is traditionally served in a fluted Georgian Irish Coffee glass — unless you’re at J.T. Basque in Gardnerville, where they use a 6-ounce highball glass.
“People were arguing,” Maynard recalls of a couple of recent screenings, including one in Winnemucca. “The room split as to whether or not you stir it before or after the brandy float goes on top. … And these are people who’ve been drinking them for 50, 60 years.”
‘It gets better as you go’
In addition to The J.T., “Piconland” visits other Punch strongholds, including The Star in Elko, The Martin in Winnemucca and Louis Basque Corner in Reno. The latter is part of a collection of Basque favorites along Reno’s Fourth Street, which was part of the transcontinental Lincoln Highway.
“No one ever, ever on their very first Picon took a sip and said, ‘Oh, my God, that’s the best thing I’ve ever had,’ ” Gage Smith, founder of Picon Drinkers of the American West, says in the film. “It’s definitely an acquired taste.”
In all of his travels, did Maynard find anyone who actually liked the taste of a Picon Punch? “It’s funny. Um. No,” he acknowledges while laughing.
For starters, the drink is potent. Ferino Amer is 39 percent alcohol by volume.
“You’ve got an amer, which is most of the glass, which is a bitter that’s essentially meant to be sipped as a digestif by itself,” Maynard explains. “Then you’re mixing that with a sweetened syrup, and then you’re pouring brandy on top of that. You can process it in your brain. ‘This is going to be an interesting first sip.’ ”
Bartenders say they’ll stir each Picon Punch a specified number of times. Again, this varies by location. But given that each glass is filled to the rim with ice before a single liquid is poured, there’s precious little room to maneuver. The “stirring” is akin to stabbing the concoction with a spoon.
“It gets better as you go,” Maynard insists. “As you are drinking it, it mellows. The ice melts. Things kind of tend to blend together.”
‘A really fun tourist thing’
“Piconland” began as a student film when Maynard went back to get his master’s degree in journalism at UNR.
The film was released in 2023 and was awarded Best Nevada Film at that year’s Dam Short Film Festival.
But once Assembly Bill 375, which included language making Picon Punch the official state drink, started making its way through the Legislature in 2025, Maynard went back into production.
“Now that it’s the official state drink,” he says, “I really hope that some bartenders and people (in Las Vegas) will give it a try. … Because once it becomes a thing in Vegas, it’s going to become a thing everywhere.”
That might be easier now that there’s a canned version. A collaboration between Ferino Distillery and The J.T., dubbed The Official State Drink of Nevada, debuted in May.
“I think it could become a really fun tourist thing,” Maynard adds. “Like, ‘Try the official state drink of Nevada — if you dare.’”
Contact Christopher Lawrence at [email protected] or 702-380-4567.
Nevada Humanities is presenting two free screenings of “Piconland,” followed by conversations with filmmaker Mark Maynard and others about Basque heritage and traditions in Nevada. These events are scheduled for 5:30 p.m. Wednesday at the West Las Vegas Library, 1861 N. Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd., and 5:30 p.m. Thursday at the Boulder City Library, 701 Adams Blvd.