When the weather gets warm enough in the Land of Pleasant Living, an inevitable thirst emerges. Not for any particular can of beer, mind you. Not even an ice-cold Natty Boh. Instead, it’s our state’s undisputed drink of summer—the one and only orange crush.

And this year, Governor Wes Moore made it official, rightfully designating this strong, citrusy, ice-cold nectar of the gods as Maryland’s state cocktail, come June 1.

Which is no surprise. All across the state, and now even up and down the East Coast, there are fans of this refreshingly bittersweet drink, made with citrus-flavored vodka, fresh-squeezed citrus juice, a triple sec-style liqueur, and lemon-lime soda over ice—like Maryland’s tastier screwdriver. And for at least the last 40 years now, Ocean City has been the drink’s epicenter, and in many ways, where it all began.

“It’s a rite of passage,” say Mike Strawley, co-owner of The Bearded Clam on Wicomico Street, declared by many as the original home of the orange crush. “We’ve been around long enough that people’s kids are coming in now, getting the same crushes that their parents drank.”

There’s debate over the origin story of the orange crush, of course. West Ocean City’s Harborside Bar & Grill claims to be the “home of the original” since 1993, serving “well over a million of them,” says co-owner Chris Wall. Meanwhile, many locals believe that Strawley’s circa-’78 bar was the first to serve some version.

Back in the ’40s, his grandparents started slinging “squeezers” at their original establishment, just up the seaboard in Cape May, New Jersey. When his dad took over the business and moved down to the Maryland beaches, and Ocean City, he brought the tradition with him, with fading Kodachrome photographs of the early Clam showing the same hanging fruit baskets and steel juicers still used in the bar today.

“I never asked how they came to be, because they were just always there,” says Strawley, 56, who learned the recipe on day one as a barback at age 19. “I can make them in my sleep.”

The ingredients are simple, and largely the same from bar to bar, but perfecting the ratio is somewhat of an art form. Too much triple sec? The drink’s too sweet. Too much soda? It’s too weak. Fresh juice is always key, hence halves of fruit being squeezed to order, with the Clam moving through more cases of citrus than it cares to count.

And then there’s the technique, often inducing a Pavlov’s dog-like reaction in onlookers, who then generally can’t help but order one. “You can’t not love the show,” says Wall.

These days, there are also grapefruit crushes, and half-and-halfs with both juices, and “skinny” versions that swap Sprite for club soda. Some places like Seacret’s and Fish Tales even blend them into frozen drinks. But every iteration, as the name implies, is often dangerously easy to drink.

“A lot of people come in for one before they even check into their hotels,” says Strawley. “It tastes like vacation.”

Oh, and in a town run on Natural Light—aka “Delmarva champagne”—the Clam also keeps a steady supply of Natty Boh in stock for its bevy of Baltimore patrons.

“People get excited to see it, I can tell you that,” says Strawley. “We’ve had it so long, it’s cool again.”

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Whether you’re downy ocean or hanging at home this summer, here are a few of our fresh-squeezed faves:

Ocean City

• The Bearded Clam, 15 Wicomico St.
• Harborside Bar & Grill, 12841 Harbor Rd.
• Mackey’s, 5311 Coastal Hwy.
• M.R. Ducks Bar & Grill, 311 Talbot St.
• The Wedge, 806 S. Atlantic Ave.

Baltimore

• Mama’s on the Half Shell, 2901 O’Donnell St.
• Thames Street Oyster House, 1728 Thames St.
• Hard Yacht Cafe, 8500 Cove Rd.
• Nick’s Fish House, 2600 Insulator Dr.
• Section 771, 504 Washington Blvd.

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This piece originally ran in our June 2024 cover story, “Greetings From Ocean City,” which you can explore, here.