Tonight we decided to continue with the cocktails of New Orleans, both in celebration of our recent trip there, and as a way to make up for some of the deficiencies we encountered with "classics" we were served in their own home town. For example, we ordered the Ramos Gin Fizz at the Carousel bar and received a vanilla-y milkshakey drink served on ice. Likewise we had a number of Sazeracs served on ice, though it seems like the classic recipes call for an up drink. The worst drink we saw we didn't even stick around long enough to be served--at the Old Absinthe House, we wanted an Absinthe Frappe We sat for some minutes as a bartender stocked shelves and ignored us. Finally she asked what we wanted, and when I ordered an Absinthe Frappe she explained "That's not really Absinthe, absinthe is the one with the ice water." We had spent several nights at the Absinthe House over the course of the conference, and had seen a bartender (Will) lovingly fill the cup with a dome of shaved ice, then drizzle Lucid Absinthe, Herbsaint, and simple syrup over the flaky ice. This girl grabbed Herbsaint and DeKuyper Anisette and poured it over a skimpy portion of shaved ice, then blasted it with soda and gave it a stir. As another bartender began arguing with her about something, we took our leave. Absinthe abuse continued at Tujagues the next day as the bartender lit a sugar cube on fire and stirred it into the Absinthe.
The Ramos Gin Fizz was created in New Orleans in the 1880's and was popular until Prohibition. Consisting of London Dry Gin, lime juice, lemon juice, simple syrup, egg white and a few drops of orange flower water, the signature of the drink is that it requires a very vigorous shake to achieve the appropriate "ropy" texture.
Charles H. Baker Jr. describes the drink in the Gentleman's Companion:
THE ORIGINAL GIN FIZZ which Was Long a Secret of the Brothers Ramos, and which Was Given out by Them, in a Fit of Generous Aberration during Our Alleged & Ridiculous Drought of the Prohibition Era...the Ramos Fizz has long been synonymous with the finest in all the New Orleans art. Thinking that the formula, like any history dealing with the dead arts, should be engraved on the tablets of history, it was given to the world after the now rejuvenated Ramos bar closed for the "dry" era. The main secret of excellence was the platoon of 8 or 1 doz blackamoors who passed the shaker over shoulders to the next, after each had literally shaken his heart out chilling the drink...
Nevermind his use of 'blackamoor', a derogatory term that I had to Google--Baker's portrayal is a beautiful image for the cocktail enthusiast. Imagine a time when commitment to cocktails justified a 'platoon' of shaker boys...
We made two versions of the drink, one following Dale's recipe, and the other following that of Chris McMillan, the legendary New Orleans bar man. They are almost identical except that Dale's recipe calls for milk where Chris's calls for heavy cream. I prefer the full fatty flavor of the cream. Dale's recipe is slightly sweeter than Chris's, and Chris uses the "controversial" vanilla extract. I love the smell of vanilla but for some reason I preferred the Ramos Gin Fizz without the vanilla. After drinking the first two, we made a third Fizz using a Bonjour handheld milk frother to whip the ingredients, in place of a "dry shake." This Fizz had the most desirable texture and filled the glass better than the hand shaken one.
(Due to a technology malfunction we are unable to post at this time the beautiful photos we took of our creations)
I know that some bartenders recommend the use of a blender for this drink. As early as 1939, Charles H. Baker gave his eager support for the blender:
"Here again we earnestly recommend The Blender, only using 1/4 goblet of fine ice. This Blender reduces ice to powder, changes consistency of main drink to a sherbet; then the soda, added and stirred, reduces this first frozen consistency to a creamy, slick, chill loveliness. We always use this method to save from physical exertion."
