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Created by Chef Remy
Henry Ramos's 1888 French Quarter masterpiece, a cloud of gin, cream, and orange blossom foam so impossibly light it rises above the glass, the cocktail that made New Orleans bartenders famous for their endurance and made guests famous for their patience.
This drink nearly broke the bartenders of New Orleans, and they loved every minute of it. When Henry C. Ramos created his gin fizz at the Imperial Cabinet Saloon in 1888, he did not just invent a cocktail. He invented a ritual, a test of stamina, and the most famous foam in American drinking history.
The original recipe called for twelve minutes of continuous shaking. Ramos employed teams of young men, the shaker boys, who would line up behind the bar passing tins down the line until each drink reached its proper consistency. During Mardi Gras, the Imperial Cabinet would have thirty-five shaker boys working at once, arms pumping, ice rattling, the whole bar humming with the rhythm of a drink being born.
At Lagniappe, we serve the Ramos at Sunday brunch, and I have watched guests' faces when that foam rises above the glass for the first time. It is equal parts cocktail and magic trick. The flavor is like nothing else: botanical gin softened by cream, brightened by citrus, haunted by the whisper of orange blossoms. It tastes like New Orleans on a spring morning, when the jasmine is blooming and the air carries the promise of something extraordinary.
I will not lie to you. This drink takes work. But Southern hospitality means giving your guests something worth waiting for, and a proper Ramos Gin Fizz is worth every second of that shake. Your arms will recover. The memory of that first sip will stay with you.
Quantity
2 ounces
Quantity
1 ounce
Quantity
1
Quantity
1/2 ounce
Quantity
1/2 ounce
Quantity
3/4 ounce
Quantity
3 drops
Quantity
2 ounces
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| London dry gin | 2 ounces |
| heavy cream | 1 ounce |
| large egg white | 1 |
| fresh lemon juice | 1/2 ounce |
| fresh lime juice | 1/2 ounce |
| simple syrup | 3/4 ounce |
| orange blossom water | 3 drops |
| chilled club soda | 2 ounces |
Place a tall, narrow Collins glass in the freezer at least fifteen minutes before you start building your drink. The Ramos needs a cold vessel because that foam is delicate. A warm glass will deflate your work before the first sip. This is not optional. At Lagniappe, we keep a row of glasses in the freezer just for this drink.
Add the gin, heavy cream, egg white, lemon juice, lime juice, and simple syrup to your cocktail shaker. Do not add ice yet. The order does not matter here because everything is about to get very well acquainted. Measure precisely on the citrus and simple syrup. This drink lives in balance, and a heavy hand on the sweet or sour will throw off the whole composition.
Now add exactly three drops of orange blossom water. Not four. Not a splash. Three drops. This ingredient separates a Ramos from any other fizz, but it will overpower everything if you get generous. The aroma should whisper of orange groves, not shout like a perfume counter. My grandmother Evangeline kept orange blossom water in her pantry for baking, and she taught me that restraint is everything with floral waters.
Seal your shaker and shake hard without ice for a full two minutes. This is the dry shake, and it is where the magic begins. The egg white needs to emulsify with the cream and citrus, building the foundation for that legendary foam. Your arms will burn. That is how you know you are doing it right. The sound will change from sloshing to a tighter, creamier rhythm as the proteins begin to trap air.
Open the shaker and add a generous handful of ice cubes. Seal it back up and shake for another eight to twelve minutes. Yes, minutes. Henry Ramos employed teams of shaker boys who would pass the tins down a line, each one shaking until exhausted. The ice chills the mixture while the continued agitation builds that impossibly silky foam. You should hear the ice breaking down into smaller and smaller pieces. When it sounds like sand rattling in the tin, you are close.
Remove your frosted glass from the freezer. Strain the cocktail through a fine mesh strainer into the glass, filling it about three-quarters full. The liquid should look like billowing clouds, pale and thick. Let it rest for thirty seconds. The foam needs a moment to settle and separate from the liquid below, creating distinct layers of froth above and creamy cocktail beneath.
Pour the chilled club soda slowly down a bar spoon or the inside of the glass. Watch the foam rise like a soufflé, pushing up and over the rim of the glass. This is the moment that makes people gasp. The soda lifts the foam into that signature cloud that hovers an inch or more above the glass. Do not stir. The soda and the cocktail will marry on their own terms.
Present the Ramos Gin Fizz without a straw. The proper way to drink it is to sip through the foam, letting the creamy head mingle with the citrus-bright liquid below. Each sip should be a little different as you work your way down. This cocktail waits for no one. The foam is ephemeral, and within ten minutes it will begin its slow collapse. Make it, serve it, drink it. That is the bayou way.
1 serving (about 240g)
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