Why the 'Best Bar in the World' Is Subjective

Every year, the world of spirits holds its breath. A list is released, a ranking of the most celebrated and innovative watering holes on the planet. The "World’s 50 Best Bars" list is an incredible achievement, a testament to the creativity and skill of bartenders and bar owners globally. It's a list that sends travelers flocking to hidden speakeasies in London, rooftops in Singapore, and bustling lounges in New York. And while these lists are invaluable—a guide to places with proven, undeniable quality—I've come to believe that they're a bit of a paradox. They tell you what’s technically "best," but they can never tell you what’s "best" for you.

The idea of a single "best bar" is, in my opinion, a fallacy. It’s a concept that doesn't account for the most crucial element in any drinking experience: the human being at the center of it. The "best bar" isn’t about a ranking; it’s about a feeling. It's the place that perfectly aligns with your personal, sensory, and emotional needs in that specific moment.

Let’s take a look at a bar that consistently lands on these lists: Handshake Speakeasy in Mexico City. I've read and heard nothing but stellar reviews. It's the kind of place that embodies the modern cocktail movement—a hidden entrance, an elegant, moody atmosphere, and a menu of meticulously crafted, high-concept drinks that push the boundaries of mixology. The bartenders are artists, and the experience is, by all objective accounts, exceptional. This is a bar that has earned its reputation through sheer innovation, technique, and a commitment to hospitality. It is, without a doubt, a destination for any serious cocktail enthusiast. But is it the best bar for everyone, every time?

For me, the answer is no. And that's not a critique of Handshake Speakeasy, but rather a celebration of the diversity of what a bar can be. The reality is, what makes a bar "best" for me often has less to do with its list ranking and more to do with the specific, often unspoken, elements that cater to my personal needs and sensory wiring.

As a neurodivergent person, my "best bar" checklist often looks a little different. It's less about the prestige of the liquor and more about the comfort of the space.

• Lighting is everything. The perfect bar, for me, has low, warm lighting. It creates an intimacy and a sense of calm that is a welcome shield from the overstimulating world outside. I think of a place like The Vedant Lady in Richmond, VA, where the hushed, almost reverent glow of the room makes a single Sazerac feel like a moment of deep contemplation. The "best" bar isn't a bright, bustling space with jarring lights; it's a sanctuary.

• The soundtrack is a character, not a cacophony. The music at the "best" bar is never an assault on the senses. It’s a character in the room—a low hum of jazz, a soulful blues track, or a perfectly curated playlist that feels like an extension of the space itself. It’s loud enough to provide a sense of energy but never so loud that it drowns out a quiet conversation.

• The bartender "gets it." This is perhaps the most important element of all. The best bartenders aren't just mixologists; they're emotional barometers. They know when to engage in a friendly chat and when to let you simply exist in peace. The bartender who sees you absorbed in your drink, understands that your focus is on the flavors and not on making small talk, and gives you space—that's a bartender who makes a bar "best." It’s an act of hospitality that goes beyond the technical and into the truly human.

The "best bar" is also highly situational. A bar that is perfect for one occasion might be completely wrong for another.

• The Best Bar for Focused Exploration: When I want to dive deep into a specific spirit or method, the "best" bar is a quiet, contemplative spot where I can sit at the bar and ask the bartender a dozen questions. It's a place where the atmosphere allows for a single-minded focus on the flavor profiles of my drink.

• The Best Bar for Energetic Release: Sometimes, I need to be in a place with high energy. The sensory overload is part of the fun. On a night like that, the "best" bar might be Freeplay Bar & Arcade in Worcester, MA, where the sensory chaos of pinball machines and retro arcade games is a welcome, stimulating escape. It's a place where you can get lost in the repetitive, satisfying action of a game while still being part of a larger social scene.

• The Best Dive Bar: And then there are the nights when the only "best bar" is the one you know by heart. For me, that’s my local dive, The Red Onion in Baldwinville, MA. It’s not on any list, and it never will be. The drinks are simple, the decor is well-worn, and the vibe is completely unpretentious. But it’s "best" because it's a sanctuary of familiarity. I know what to expect, the bartenders know my name, and the absence of pretense is a kind of hospitality all its own.

• The Best Bar for a Culinary Journey: Other times, the "best bar" is one where the food is an equal partner to the drink. This is where places like Tempest Bar & Box Kitchen shine. The synergy between the elevated comfort food and the expertly poured drinks creates a complete sensory experience that can't be found anywhere else. It’s the "best" bar for the person who sees the bar as a place for a holistic, delicious journey.

  
  

So, for the cocktail enthusiasts and the travelers, my advice is simple: use the lists, by all means. Let them be your guide to places of incredible quality and innovation. But don’t let them be the final word. The most rewarding part of travel is discovering a place that speaks to you personally—a bar that, for whatever reason, feels like it was made just for you. The "best bar" isn't a place to check off a list; it's a memory to be cherished, a feeling that lingers long after the glass is empty. So, read the lists with a grain of salt, and then go find your own.