Cocktail of the Month: Do-it-Yourself Cocktails for Jazz Fest

Keeping it Casual

Looking for the single word to describe the amazing annual celebration that wears the proud title of the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival?

Such a massive multi-venue event, which covers a wide variety of musical styles and stretches over simultaneously so many performances, so many artists, over a wide assortment of stages, defies singular descriptions; however, a key word that works for some and always sends them to acceptable results is "casual."

Wondering what to wear, what attitude to bring, or what kind of venue is at the center of what kind of performance? The word "casual" fits. How else to describe an event whose centerpiece location is 145-acres of dirt and grass at the center of the nation's third oldest horse racing track?

Everything about this festival, going back to its founding in 1970, is a reflection of the artistic talents and pace of life in the Crescent City. New Orleans is not a town of formalities in its everyday existence. The founders of Jazz Fest were also the guiding forces behind the successful and long-running Newport Jazz Festival and the Newport Folk Festival. They thought that New Orleans could support a similar event built around the city's own brand of music and art done in the Big Easy's world-renowned style.

It turns out, they were right on all counts. They were also right not to try to force a Newport Jazz Festival with a Southern theme. They took the operating lessons from years of successful stagings and embraced the unique styles of New Orleans. Comparing the living style of New Orleans to Newport would be like the difference between street corner musicians and formal theatrical concerts. One is not necessarily better than the other. Both are enjoyable in their own ways.

The one-word description, "casual," has to be kept in mind. When it comes to cocktails, quite honestly, New Orleans' culture and creativity rule the day. Keep it simple and without a lot of machinery to create the drink. The making of the beverage has to be easy, not a mishmash of multiple, esoteric ingredients. It's best to find satisfying, creative cocktails that can happen with a minimum amount of prep time from the thought, "I need an adult beverage in a red go-cup," to the first sip.

But like Jazz Fest, the drink has to be authentic, fun, enjoyable, and satisfying with nothing standing in the way of properly duplicating the drink the next time. There are a few limitations, however. Outside beverages are not allowed at any Jazz Fest-related venue, including the Fair Grounds. If you want to take your drink on your strolls through the music-rich streets of the French Quarter and beyond, no glass containers are allowed. Other than that, you are good to go.

Suggestions for a perfect Jazz Fest cocktail in the right place:

Pimm's Cup

Not a cocktail invented in New Orleans, but one that became more famous because of its association with the city. A refreshing drink, which, like most such concoctions, including the Bloody Mary, has many different ingredients under the same drink name. The English style of the cocktail, which has to be considered since Pimm's is an English-based spirit, is not as tart nor as sweet as the New Orleans version served at the Napoleon House Bar and all over town.

1 ¼ oz. Pimm's No. 1

3 oz. fresh Lemonade

Top with Ginger Ale (if you prefer the sweeter version, use 7-Up instead)

Garnish with a spear or a slice of fresh cucumber

Instructions: fill a high ball glass, or go-cup, with ice, add the rest of the ingredients, and finish with the lemonade. Garnish. Light stir.

Vespa Martini

This is the classic martini made famous in the 1953 book, Casino Royale, by author Ian

Fleming for his character, James Bond. Sometimes referred to as a Vesper Martini, the

suggested time of day to enjoy, the drink's name, however, comes from another character in the novel, Vesper Lynd.

3 oz. Gin

1 oz. Vodka

½ oz. Lillet Blanc or Cocchi Americano

Instructions: Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice—shaken, not stirred. Now, strain the ingredients of the shaker into a suitable container for your purposes.

Walking Around: A red Solo cup.

Sitting: A coupe martini glass, traditionally patterned after Marie Antoinette's breast, allegedly. Garnish with a twist of lemon.

Bourbon Smash

Again, keeping the theme of casual and simplicity in mind and with consideration that the season can be hot and humid with a very good chance of rain, this cocktail features a spirit identified with the Southern U.S., as well as some fruits easily obtained at roadside stands or from the produce area at any supermarket.

2 oz. Bourbon—whatever style or brand you like will work fine here.

¾ oz. Simple Syrup—store-bought or make your own.

½ lemon cut into wedges

6-8 fresh mint leaves

Optional: give a splash of club soda and garnish with a sprig of mint and fresh lemon wheel

Instructions: Muddle well—don't hold back—in a shaker with the lemon, mint, and simple syrup. Then add bourbon and a handful of fresh ice. Shake vigorously for 15 seconds or until well-chilled. Double strain into rocks glass or a red plastic cup with fresh crushed ice. Top with club soda, if desired. Garnish with fresh mint sprig and lemon wheel.

Note: Whenever you include fresh mint into any beverage, put the mint into your hand and slap it first to release essential oils and flavors.

Did you notice that, in our suggestions, we have used different spirits as the base for each of the cocktails? These provide a variety of outcomes in terms of weights, aromas, palate tastes, and textures. Jazz Fest is an overwhelming experience for the senses, and we have tried to reflect that freedom in our cocktail suggestions.

Frozen Irish Coffee

While "It was a dark and stormy night" are the hackneyed words opening Edward Bulwer-Lytton's 1830 novel Paul Clifford—a phrase later popularized by Snoopy in Peanuts—it was, however, just such a night in 1942 when an airliner bound for New York took off from Foynes Airbase, the airfield that served the aviation needs of Limerick, Ireland.

The pilot determined that the terrible weather conditions, cold and very rainy, were not conducive to head westward over the North Atlantic and turned back to the airfield, safely bringing the aircraft back to earth.

Just adjacent to the airbase was a small eatery that served light fare and heavy drinks. The proprietor, Chef Joe Sheridan, realized that the plane's passengers were cold, wet, and, with the cancellation of all flights until the morning, not in for a comfortable evening in the terminal. Sheridan concocted a hot beverage meant to bring some soothing warmth to the disappointed passengers. Taking a staple of a proven method to warm a body when it has been exposed to extremely cold weather conditions, a really hot coffee, he added a local product known as Irish whiskey, along with some cool whipped cream and a good insertion of brown sugar, and put the blend into a warmed mug. Like so many other cocktails, opposite ingredients worked together and Irish coffee was born.

Irish coffee may have remained a strictly local Irish specialty drink were it not for a staff writer for the San Francisco Chronicle named Stanton Delaplane. Delaplane was traveling around Ireland to discover and report on the many reasons for his readers to visit the Emerald Isle, a challenging assignment given the fact that the Troubles between the Irish and the English were still inflamed. There was gunfire and physical attacks from one group against the other.

Delaplane stopped in Limerick on his research trip and found a cocktail he did not know he was looking for. He rightly concluded that Irish coffee would be a perfect beverage for his hometown, which experienced a pretty cold climate year-round. Mark Twain noted that the coldest winter he ever experienced was a summer in San Francisco. On his return home, Delaplane introduced Irish Coffee to his favorite coffee house, the Buena Vista.

The Buena Vista is on the north side of the city, very near the chilly waters of San Francisco Bay and close to Fisherman's Wharf. The destination diner is one block from the northern turnaround for the Hyde Street cable car. The marriage of the Buena Vista and Irish Coffee was made with the correct understanding of a need in search of a solution. Today, visitors and natives alike who are in San Francisco continue to make the pilgrimage to the Buena Vista to taste the real deal and, in the process, knock back the San Francisco chill.

New Orleans is never completely left off this story. How could it be, especially when cocktails are involved? First of all, New Orleans is one of the largest, if not the largest, coffee importing ports in the world by tonnage. We are also home to both the largest coffee silo and coffee roasting plant on the planet. The silo is located at the Port of New Orleans, and the roasting facility is located on Chef Menteur in Gentilly. Both, under the Folger's moniker, were sold several years ago, as was the brand, to the J.M. Smucker Company. Yes, those wonderful folks who have brought fruit jelly to your table for all of your life, since 2008, now bring you coffee, as well.

We all know coffee does not grow well in the United States. The raw product, a small hard, green-colored bean, has to be imported from South American countries and countries with similar climates. Brazil is a key coffee-growing country, as are Peru, Honduras, Colombia, several African nations, and Vietnam. New Orleans is one of the closest U.S. water ports t o South American countries, so our port was a logical and efficient destination.

Since coffee beans have to be roasted to bring out their aromas and flavors, a roasting facility here was also logical. Yet again, New Orleans' location worked in favor of commerce and assisted the fulfillment of American demands for a beverage our country seems to love very much.

However, it is usually New Orleans' creativity that adds a certain panache to the equation. Despite the fact that we possess a semi-tropical climate, New Orleans took a beverage developed for its warmth and froze it.

The Frozen Irish Coffee became a walking-around, go-cup sensation—an answer to a situation that does not exist for the original product but for which the New Orleans climate, top-end heat and humidity, is certainly present. Noted French Quarter saloon impresario Jim Monaghan wanted to create a statement cocktail based on Irish whiskey—enter the Frozen Irish Coffee.

Appropriately enough, Erin Rose, an Irish-themed bar that's also a Monaghan outpost, on Conti Street, just off Bourbon Street, in the Upper Quarter, is generally credited with the extended success of this magical, truly-cold potion. Not surprisingly, a Frozen Irish Coffee in the middle of August is just about the most perfect cool-down cocktail you can enjoy. Surprisingly, the Frozen Irish Coffee also seems like the ideal cocktail for wet and cold January. Don't miss the opportunity to be completely correct with the original or the further developed Frozen Irish Coffee around St. Patrick's Day in mid-March.

It's the devotion and the "mix-anything-mix-everything, give it a try" attitude that New Orleans consumers bring to adult beverages that keep the creative wheels spinning, as well as the consumers, encouraged by some world-class talent behind the bar, who continue to keep the mature industry alive and vibrant.

Absinthe Frappé

It is interesting that the Absinthe Frappé is one of the few drink titles of all the cocktails created in New Orleans that really sounds like New Orleans.

The names Gin Fizz, French 75, and Sazerac don't really scream Crescent City; however, Absinthe Frappé would never have originated in Boise. Absinthe is a spirit that was featured in many French recipes, both cooking and at the bar, and frappé, the name, could only have come from a French-speaking area.

On both counts, New Orleans takes prominence. While even early on, our city was a magnet that attracted folks from many nations. We were always French-based even when German, English, Irish, Italian, and American settlers came in big numbers. French was the dominant culture, and our street names, along with the names of other towns surrounding us, are French-based.

The other name in the drink title is frappé (frap-pay) with the accent on the second syllable. You've probably enjoyed a drink in the frappé style, maybe even without knowing you were doing so. No? You've never had a milk shake? Of course you have. Frappé is a style of drink, the name of which comes from the French past participle word frapper, the meaning of which is to chill or strike with ice. Usually, frappé refers to a slushy drink, but it really has come to mean just a very cold drink.

Dispelling Absinthe

Let's do a dive into absinthe because no other spirit has as much information, most of it false, swirling about. We can begin with:

• Absinthe does not cause hallucinations unless you overindulge.

• Absinthe was never technically illegal in the U.S. but it was treated as if it were.

• If you are not a fan of licorice, you will not like absinthe.

Okay, on to specifics of the Absinthe Frappé. The cocktail was created at the Old Absinthe House in 1874. While the drink creation is an important point in history at that particular location in the French Quarter, still in operation at 240 Bourbon St., real history was made when General Andrew Jackson met at this rooming house, built in 1806, with pirate and New Orleans resident Jean Lafitte in 1813 to lay the groundwork for a plan during the War of 1812 to wage the Battle of New Orleans against the British in 1815.

Fast forward to 1874, a renowned bartender, Cayetano Ferrer, was intrigued by all the stories surrounding the alcohol spirit absinthe and wanted to create a drink that featured it. The cocktail he created, oddly enough, does not have many other ingredients and, despite stories about what absinthe could do to mess with your senses, the cocktail initially became a favorite breakfast beverage. What a grand way to start a day. Then again, the rumors about absinthe were not fully true—but that was not known in the late 1800s, early 1900s.

In the mid-1800s, artists, writers, and members of the general public, especially those of French descent, thought absinthe was a mind-altering beverage. Stories noted that folks after imbibing too much absinthe were "stoned" and they were doing self-destructive deeds such as cutting off body parts and jumping off high buildings. It is likely the stories happened but not because of the ingredients in the spirit. Absinthe contains one of the highest levels of alcohol by volume measurement when compared to other adult beverages—loads of alcohol—somewhere between 45% and 74%. A regular beer lives at 6%, and most wines are at 12%. See why people who enjoy absinthe seem to quickly be a little wacky?

Absinthe is made from wormwood, an organic herb primarily grown in the temperate zone of North Africa, and a key "medical" ingredient of wormwood is thujone. The combination of ingredients used to make the spirit causes the absinthe to turn green, and the final result has been tagged with the nickname "the Green Fairy."

In the late 1800s, thujone was somewhat mistakenly identified as the prime culprit causing the hallucinogenic effect. There was a movement among certain public groups to outlaw absinthe. The U.S. was the first country of many to take the legal action to place legal limits on the spirit. In so doing, the wording of the legislation defined the level of thujone that could be present in the final absinthe released to market.

The real situation was that absinthe never possessed the level of thujone as defined in the law; however, everyone thought absinthe was illegal and, for 95 years, was considered to be not legal until 2007 when modern chemical analysis proved that absinthe had thujone levels below the legal definition.

So, in truth, absinthe "came back" in 2007, but the spirit, over the entire span of 95 years, was never technically illegal. A leader in bringing absinthe back was Ted Breaux, a New Orleanian who brought to market the product Lucid—a perfect absinthe for the Absinthe Frappé cocktail.

Ingredients

• 1 ½ oz absinthe

• ½ oz simple syrup

• Mint, for garnish

Instructions

Add absinthe and simple syrup into a cocktail shaker and fill ¾ with ice.

Shake until chilled, about 12 seconds. Strain into a double rocks glass or julep cup filled with crushed ice.

Stir, top with more crushed ice, then garnish with a sprig of mint.

Mixologist Tip: Do not skimp on the ice. Stuff as much ice into the mixing glass or cocktail shaker as you can.

The Obituary Cocktail & the Strange Pursuit of Naming Cocktails

During the second phase of the periods of cocktail development from 1840 to 1900, it seems that naming a cocktail was as important as the ingredients used in the cocktail. Names that referred to the prime ingredient in the recipe, such as the Sazerac, or the naming rights reverting to the place of original origin, the Manhattan, were set aside as being too tame.

Following that was a new generation of bar staff—young, adventurous, creative, daring—creating solid drink recipes and satisfactory final results but with disconnected names from another dimension: the Fuzzy Navel, Slippery Nipple, Sex on the Beach, Mexican Mule, Screwdriver, Harvey Wallbanger, Between the Sheets, Pornstar Martini, all thrust on an unsuspecting, but thirsty, public. The drinks and the names were embraced for what they were—meaningless as it relates to the product, titillating, avant-garde, and fun.

It is interesting to note that none of the above-mentioned concoctions came from one of the era's centerpiece communities of cocktail culture, New Orleans; however, one drink and name came from our city, and it was a two-word moniker that evoked mental images and connections—the Obituary Cocktail.

The drink was likely in existence for many years, even through Prohibition; however, it attracted attention from the thirsty adult crowd thanks to a mention of the drink, along with its name, in the 1942 book The Bachelor in New Orleans by Robern Kinney. Why it suddenly struck a responsive chord among consumers through this avenue remains an unanswered mystery, but it happened.

The Obituary Cocktail was likely invented at Café Lafitte in the French Quarter with little attention paid to the discovery. This cocktail, after all, like many cocktails, is a derivative creation. In its purest form, it's a martini composed of gin and vermouth, to which absinthe is added. Absinthe is the spirit about which legends have grown, untruths have arisen, and, in America, is associated with New Orleans mainly because we are associated with Paris and France, who made absinthe forbidden but glorious fruit. Absinthe is a strong spirit presence even to present day with many bars and watering holes looping back to embrace this rumored hallucinogenic.

We should also add here that Café Lafitte, established in 1933, was formerly located in Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop's building in the Lower Quarter. That business entity was sold in 1953, and the owner, Tom Caplinger, moved the bar down the block to Dumaine, renaming the bar Café Lafitte in Exile. Even to this point in time, it boasts of being the oldest gay bar in America and is open 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

Caplinger is also credited with creating the Obituary Cocktail at Café Lafitte's original location. Outside of the attention-demanding aspects of the word "obituary," there is likely no hard and traceable reason for use of the term. New Orleans has always had the reputation of being different, exotic, and haunted, so Caplinger's use of the word fits. Besides, the history of absinthe in New Orleans is well-documented, with a strong emphasis on escaping reality.

The stories highlighting the effect of absinthe on the user, as well as the not-quite-true stories about the outlawing of the spirit by governments on several continents, persist today. No doubt you still encounter consumers, maybe you are one of them, surprised to see absinthe for sale in reputable merchants' establishments.

For a period of time, namely after World War II, the Obituary Cocktail fell away from bar offerings. Likely, this lack of use and respect had to do with the presence of absinthe in the recipe and the confusion over absinthe's place as a serious, even legal, spirit. Over the past several years, absinthe and the Obituary Cocktail have "arisen from the dead."

This is truly the cocktail that refuses to go quietly into that good night. While the recipe is nothing extravagant, add to that the fact that the taste is not going to send anyone into fits of ecstasy, then there is the simple truth that the construction mechanics are as easy as drink-making can be. It seems that its exotic name has saved it from an early grave.

It has also avoided orphan status with its adoption from a loyal and active group of "true believers." For a number of years, a significant number of imbibers in various cities, including New Orleans, have met at different bars and restaurants, often weekly, to share stories and a few cocktails they share in the company of like-minded New Orleanians to enjoy a common love—the Obituary Cocktail.

With social media notices on Facebook posted and membership dues never collected, the Grande and Secret Order of the Obituary Cocktail is mostly based in the French Quarter and is mostly informal—with gatherings dating back to 1999. Anyone can suggest a venue, and attendance records are non-existent. The group dates itself from the publication of the book The Obituary Cocktail: The Great Saloons of New Orleans by noted author Kerri McCafferty. Ironically, a cocktail that for an entire generation was ignored now has one of the most active groups of followers of any adult beverage anywhere.

This cocktail has taken its rightful place on bar menus around the world, and it has been correctly attributed to New Orleans as one of our creations.

The Obituary

As featured in the book The Obituary Cocktail by Sue Strachan

Louisiana State University Press, 2025

2 oz. Woody Creek Gin

1 oz. Cinzano Vermouth

1 oz. Copper & Kings Absinthe Alembic

Combine all of the ingredients in a mixing glass, stir with ice, then pour into a serving glass.

The Continuing Convolution with the French 75

The goal of this series is twofold:

1. Delve into the interesting and factual stories about cocktails invented in New Orleans and known around the world.

2. Also look into the origins of those cocktails not invented in New Orleans but are associated with our town.

Up to this point, we have told the stories of adult beverages created within our community by talented and sophisticated folks from all over the world who made this unique spot their home. Now, it is time to fulfill the other and parallel mission of what we defined from the very beginning.

It is far easier to build a favorable reputation if a common belief of credibility is held by a broad cross-section of reasonable people. No one anywhere has to be convinced that New Orleans is a culinary and cocktail culture center. That fact is well established and is beyond a reasonable doubt. Because of New Orleans' geographic position, this city has benefitted from many people of high talents being here from every corner of the globe plying their craft and using ingredients that are both originating from here and have ended up here from other areas.

To say craft products in this soggy setting is a "gumbo" is unnecessary and is also complimentary, we'll take it both ways. Also, what goes along with such accolades is the fact that because we can "do" the creation, we are excellent at recognizing and defining those specialties "passing through," especially true when it comes to food and drink.

The high profile of recognition given to a cocktail known as the French 75 is a perfect example of adoption by New Orleans. That cocktail was definitely not invented here, but it is now associated with this city. The story of this cocktail also fits perfectly with this town's preferred lifestyle and the messiness associated with the history of the cocktail.

The easy information first is the origin of the name of the cocktail. The French 75 was a cannon on wheels. The barrel was almost nine feet long, and the anti-personnel armament rested on large wheels. It was used by the French army during the latter 19th century and well into the 20th. At the time, it was reputed to be the most powerful, rapid-fire gun in the world. It was that fact that inspired the creation of the cocktail of the same name.

There is no assurance of who the cocktail creator was, nor of even where the creation took place. Much credit seems to go in the direction of a native Scotsman, Harry MacElhone, starting in 1911. He became well known at 5 rue Danou in Paris, then at the newly opened Ciro's in Paris right around the corner. He bounced around a little bit in Europe and then bought 5 rue Danou in 1923. In 1933, he changed the name of the bar at that famous address to Harry's New York Bar.

If the history of the bar seems confusing, then the ingredients in the drink will be a complete maze. The first Soixante-Quinze, as the drink was originally known, contained grenadine, Calvados, lemon juice, and dry gin.

In the fourth edition of MacElhone's own recipe book, published in 1926, Anise-del-Oso was introduced as an ingredient at the expense of the lemon juice, which was dropped from the recipe. In 1927, MacElhone himself, likely, brought in powdered sugar and Champagne to work alongside the gin, now identified as Gordon water. Also of interest, the use of a cocktail glass was replaced by a tall glass in the recipe published that year.

At various times during the middle of the last century, the French 75 attracted a lot more attention from the cocktail crowd. In 1948, it was thought that since the drink was known as the French 75, maybe substituting cognac in place of the gin would make it more authentically French. That prompted mixologists to rename this version the French 125. That name also coincided with the name of another firearm—the Soviet 125 mm cannon. Remember, those were the days when the Allies, in particular Great Britain, the U.S., and the Soviets, were the key players in defeating Japan and ending the Pacific battle zone for World War II.

It is this version of the cocktail that brought New Orleans into the fracas about the cocktail. Arnaud's Restaurant, opened in the French Quarter in 1918 by a French wine salesman, Arnaud Cazenave, specializes in Creole dishes. It is still a centerpiece of fine New Orleans dining to this day.

The historic French 75 Bar opened as a gentlemen's club and as an adjunct to Arnaud's Restaurant. After an interior renovation, it opened again in 1978. This intimate room is so comfortable that if it had a bedroom, one would be tempted to move in there permanently.

Let's get down to it. As with most cocktails created in New Orleans, the modern presentation does not have much in common with the cocktail in the early days except the name. If you try both versions, you can make your own decision if the years have been good for the concoction.

There is also the temptation to substitute a London gin for the cognac in the modern version. Whenever you order the modern version of this cocktail, the mixologist should ask you if you prefer gin or cognac as the key base spirit.

New Orleans' Famous Ramos Gin Fizz

There is quite possibly another well-known cocktail that has a more difficult reputation to concoct among professional mixologists, but none springs to mind.

There is a historic one created in New Orleans—an internationally famous adult concoction that has gained a reputation as being able to ruin the pleasure of an entire shift of those working behind the stick, a.k.a. being a bartender.

We will start this tale at the beginning and then see where the trouble comes in. Henry C. Ramos was born in Vincennes, IN, in 1856. He was a first-generation American born to German parents. He had a usual childhood as far as accomplishments and education were concerned. His family moved to New Orleans when he was still a little boy, so his Protestant parents placed themselves and their child in a Catholic environment. It was also a place where the depths of the Civil War were felt but not directly affected by battles. Hospitals and holidays were a part of both sides of the war as they were experienced in New Orleans.

Carl, as Henry Ramos preferred to be called, placed priority on becoming a Freemason, which meant that he did not consume alcohol, and he became a staunch pillar of society. He achieved, during his life, the 32nd Degree of Freemasonry, one degree short of the highest honor in that fraternal setting.

As a young man, Carl was industrious and sought opportunity in a variety of commercial pursuits. The one that appealed to him the most, ironically, was the role of saloon keeper. Seems odd that would interest him, but he was commercially driven and, in South Louisiana, that is an admirable direction for a career, even for a non-drinker. Seems Carl liked the managing aspects as well as the labor-intensive styles in that time period.

Carl and his brother found opportunities purchasing bars in Baton Rouge and Birmingham, AL, before making their investment in New Orleans in 1887. Carl had worked for a large beer hall saloon on Exchange Alley, which started his interest in the alcohol-serving business before his multiple investments in such places.

The Imperial Cabinet Saloon, corner of Carondelet and Gravier and in the heart of the American Sector, was an immediate success. There were many reasons for this success: its location in the burgeoning business area of the city, a reputation of being a "fair" house with honest drinks, cold beer at reasonable prices, and also a proprietor who treated all guests with respect. Carl endeared himself to his customers and to the population in general.

He was an impeccable dresser with a particular love of diamonds and also had a winning smile and a sartorial sensibility that communicated he was an astute businessman. He closed the saloon every night at 8 p.m. He did not cater to a late night crowd, preferring to serve people like himself who respected drinks and proper, courteous socialization.

Proof of that operating philosophy was borne out in a drink created by Carl and using his name in the title—the Ramos Gin Fizz. The key to the drink was not so much the ingredients, although they are well-defined and come together well, but in the preparation of the cocktail. Likely no other cocktail ever required such large investments in staff. Sure, many cocktails' success have caused managements to add to staff over the course of their lives, but the Ramos Gin Fizz from day one meant a significant addition to payroll due to its instructions for prolonged shaking.

Remember, in the late 1800s, there were no electric appliances: no stirrers, blenders, ice crushers, or ingredient handling equipment. Everything had to be done by people, on-site and trained for specific purposes. It has been noted that in some popular establishments, as many as 15 youths were on staff to do nothing but shake drinks. At the Imperial Cabinet, at one point in its history, more than 30 shakers would be present to the side of the bar doing nothing but one single task—shaking drinks. The purpose of such rigorous activity was to emulsify one of the most essential ingredients—the egg.

The shakers, always young boys, would shake drinks to meet high customer demands until their arms would be so tired that they would stop, if only for a few minutes, before starting up again. Drinks were passed from one shaker to another during the shaking aspect of preparation because each person would have a different "style."

The 1933 Gourmet's Guide to New Orleans Creole Cooking probably said it best, "The real art in making a Gin Fizz is in proper shaking. Don't just shake it up a few times and think you have done the job, because it is only started. Shake vigorously. Add beaten egg and shake until tired. Shake again."

Now maybe you better understand why even modern bartenders and mixologists, with electronic equipment that can whip the drink without human effort, do not rate the Ramos Gin Fizz as a favorite cocktail to prepare. It's a lot of work.

On January 16, 1919—the eve of the first day of Prohibition—Ramos declared, "I've sold my last Gin Fizz." He was true to his word. He never commercially made or sold another Gin Fizz. He died September 18, 1928, and was given a quiet burial in Metairie Cemetery under an impressive memorial tombstone. He is located at the burial site of his teenage daughter, Stella, who passed away in 1916.

The Ramos Gin Fizz is still served extensively worldwide. In New Orleans, it is revered and done properly at the Sazerac Bar in the Roosevelt Hotel, at Cure on Freret Street, and at Peychaud's in the French Quarter on Toulouse, among many others.

How to Make the Ramos Gin Fizz

Thanks to Difford's Guide

1. Pre-chill Collins glass.

2. Prepare garnish of quarter orange wheel (and optional mint sprig).

3. Shake all eight ingredients with ice and strain back into shaker.

4. Dry shake (without ice) to emulsify.

5. Slowly pour two-thirds of the shaker's contents from a higher-than-normal height into a chilled empty glass (no ice in the glass), while simultaneously pouring soda with your other hand (the cocktail and soda should form a single stream of liquid falling into the glass).

6. As when pouring a Guinness, to achieve a perfect head on a Ramos Gin Fizz, leave to settle for at least a minute. Ideally, during this settling period, the glass should be placed in a glass-froster/fridge/freezer.

7. Pour the final contents of the shaker into the glass (as you do so, the head should rise like a soufflé).

8. Garnish with quarter orange wheel on rim (and optional mint sprig bouquet).

A Louisiana Governor & His Favorite Cocktail

It is very likely that Huey Long was the most influential governor Louisiana ever had. He was also the most charismatic and entertaining chief executive in our state's long history. That is quite a bold statement when you consider the questionable lineup of characters and rogues that have been at the top of the Bayou State's totem pole.

Self-named "The Kingfish," Huey Long not only charmed Louisiana but was also touted as a candidate for President of the United States, prepping for a run against Franklin D. Roosevelt in the 1936 national election. That never happened, because on September 10, 1935, Long was assassinated in the basement of Louisiana's Capitol Building in Baton Rouge, the building that Long helped to get built during his first term in the Office of Governor.

Huey Long stories are legendary and most of them are true. The one we are focusing on is about Long's love of the Ramos Gin Fizz cocktail. He loved the way they were made at the Roosevelt Hotel in New Orleans in the Sazerac Bar. He spent a lot of time in New Orleans and most of it was spent in the Roosevelt Hotel. He even constructed a highway from Baton Rouge's Capitol and Governor's Mansion to the back door of the Roosevelt. It was called Airline Highway, U.S. 61, and it was straighter with fewer turns than the other road, the Great River Road, which was the previous path.

Because he was governor, Long spent some time in New York convincing businessmen to invest in Louisiana with manufacturing plants and investment bonds. On one of these "state visits," Long checked into the Hotel New Yorker, headed to that hotel's bar, and ordered a Ramos Gin Fizz. The drink he was served was significantly below Long's standards.

Long did two things: he instructed the manager of the bar at the Hotel New Yorker to gather the entire staff for a meeting the next morning at 9 a.m., well before usual bar staff hour, and then he summoned the head bartender at the Roosevelt in New Orleans to New York to be at the meeting.

At the meeting, Long told the bar staff of the Hotel New Yorker, "This here bar man from New Orleans is going to teach you how to make a proper New Orleans Gin Fizz," which is what Long called the drink.

To be very clear, Long had summoned the bar manager of the Sazerac Bar, Sam Guarino, to be in New York the morning after Long's disappointing experience with the New York version of the Gin Fizz. Moving around the country in 1935 was not easy nor a usual style. But when the Governor of Louisiana summoned Guarino, there was no question about doing what was commanded.

Our Cocktail Inventing Travels On with the Vieux Carré

Sometimes, a thought occurs that there is a constant roll of people driving our highways and streets searching for a New Orleans answer to life's boredom.

In their cars, these travelers are seeking a destination removed from the humdrum life they left behind. New Orleans has an earned reputation for being a great destination for fun and good times. Inevitably, their quest will be fulfilled and joy will unfold. That joy will contain the usual ingredients: adult beverages, wonderful culinary treats, culture, music, and history, surrounded by people who are on a similar quest.

However, first they have to find the venues that will meet their expectations. From the highways that pass through New Orleans, there used to be a lot of signage denoting "Vieux Carré," signage pointing the way to the likely destination they are seeking—the French Quarter. If they are local, or have been here before, it is well understood that the "Old Square" designation, expressed in French, is the French Quarter. If they are coming to see us, we immediately throw up a need for a translation. That doesn't mean that we are wrong, but like so many other matters, we are different, and that's part of the charm. It could be frustrating, but that becomes part of the essence of New Orleans.

Adding to that is the name of a cocktail that is also the name of our most well-known neighborhood, the Vieux Carré. The Vieux Carré cocktail was created in the Vieux Carré by a famous bartender at a legendary bar in the most Creole hotel of the 'hood.

It stands to reason that if New York was going to have its signature-name cocktail, the Manhattan, then New Orleans should also have its own signature cocktail; however, it did not for the longest time. Finally, in about 1938, Walter Bergeron, the revered and respected bartender at the Monteleone Hotel, brought together some logical ingredients and created a cocktail he named the Vieux Carré, in honor of the surrounding neighborhood.

On a side note, while the neighborhood where New Orleans was founded is known as the French Quarter, it is really anything but French. The architecture is Spanish colonial. You won't see the trademark filigree ironwork anywhere in Paris, but it is in every corner of Madrid. The most representative hotel in the area was actually brought to life by a Sicilian shoe maker named Antonio Monteleone. The structure still has that name today, and the Monteleone family still owns the property. Monteleone, who had arrived in New Orleans from Sicily in 1880, set out to make his mark in the neighborhood and had purchased a small hotel in 1886 on the corner of Royal and Iberville, the Commercial Hotel. The purchase of the Commercial Hotel and its expansions in the coming years changed the tone of the area, and with five different expansions throughout its history, we now can enjoy the Monteleone Hotel as we know it today.

Going along with the twists and turns of the hotel's tale, ironically, the Vieux Carré cocktail was not technically created at the Carousel Bar since, in 1938, there was no Carousel Bar. The watering hole inside of the Monteleone Hotel was the Swan Room and that is where mixologist Walter Bergeron stirred his magic. Bergeron wanted to create a cocktail to be called the Vieux Carré, but he truly wanted to make it "local" by using spirits and ingredients associated with New Orleans and her likes.

That meant using rye whiskey, cognac, sweet vermouth, and bitters—that much had to be in the mix. There is also Bénédictine and, just for the fun of it, another style of bitters. In New Orleans, there is no such thing as too much when it comes to cuisine and cocktails.

For those of you keeping score, the Vieux Carré cocktail is very close to being a Manhattan cocktail with cognac. Not surprising, the Vieux Carré is the signature cocktail of the Carousel Bar, so named thanks to the design where the main bar is in the shape and style of a carousel—round and it physically revolves, slowly, which is best if the patron is going to sit and enjoy a "ride" and an adult beverage.

It might also be best to mention here that New Orleanians have difficulty with the French language. Very few French language names used on streets and places in New Orleans are pronounced in a way any respectable French-speaking citizen would say. This complete disregard for proper French pronunciation with an obviously French term is not due to disrespect or lack of education, what with our distantly-native language. It is likely due to New Orleans' history as a true melting pot of cultures and the many nationalities that made this port city their family home.

So while the first word in the name of this neighborhood and this cocktail would properly be pronounced "view," you are more likely to hear "voo." There are myriad examples of why a French speaker would have to work very hard to understand the local treatments of common words in their language.

More importantly is the making of a proper Vieux Carré cocktail, and listed is a correct recipe. This is an important note because cocktail recipes are never emblazoned into stone. They are open to the maker's interpretation and embellishments depending on preferences. Don't ever be bashful about adding personal touches with a recipe that does not call for such alterations.

VIEUX CARRÉ

Ingredients (1 Serving)

3⁄4 oz. Straight Rye Whiskey (100 proof /50% alc./vol.)

3⁄4 oz. Rémy Martin V.S.O.P. Cognac

3⁄4 oz. Strucchi Rosso Vermouth

1⁄3 oz. Bénédictine D.O.M. Liqueur

2 dash Peychaud's or other Creole-style Bitters

1 dash Angostura Aromatic Bitters

How to Make

1. Select and pre-chill an Old Fashioned glass.

2. Prepare garnish of lemon zest twist.

3. Stir all ingredients with ice.

4. Strain into ice-filled glass.

5. Express lemon zest twist over the cocktail and use as garnish.

The Roffignac Makes No Sense!

Tales of the Cocktail, taking place July 20-25, is an internationally renowned conference that brings mixologists from around the world to New Orleans. These mixologists, giving the fest an international flair, have incredible skills when it comes to the art of cocktail making.

Not only is it a special talent or divine inspiration to invent a proper cocktail, it also takes skill to accomplish the final task—creating a proper name.

There has to be some interesting tales associated with the naming of the Fuzzy Navel, the Rusty Nail, and the Irish Car Bomb, but maybe no story touches the confusing heart of the matter like the Roffignac, created in New Orleans in the late 1800s.

To begin, Louis Philippe de Roffignac, also known as Joseph, was the 10th Mayor of New Orleans and the last French mayor of the city from 1820 to 1828. He settled in Louisiana in 1800. In appreciation of his valiant participation in the Battle of New Orleans, the title of Honorary Brigadier General was bestowed on him. In 1822, when the Louisiana Legion was formed, he was named its colonel.

Born in the Cognac region of France, in the town of Angouleme, Roffignac distinguished himself in the military with service in his native country and participated as an officer in skirmishes in Spain. He then came to America—there was a close relationship America enjoyed with France—and settled in New Orleans. He served on the City Council, a position he held when elected mayor in 1820.

The city was still reeling from the War of 1812 and was in need of refurbishment. In truth, some things never change—even over a period of over 200 years. Roffignac issued city stock, a form of municipal bonds, and used the proceeds to pave roads, upgrade infrastructure, and install the city's first ever street lights. He tried to regulate gambling but failed. He also started the first regular fire department and established the first formal educational system for New Orleans' youth.

In 1828, he returned to his Perigueux château in his native France, never again to set foot in New Orleans. In 1846, either by accident while cleaning his firearm or because it was in despair, he shot himself and died. It was really not noted in New Orleans except with a small article in The Picayune newspaper.

Forty years after his death, and even longer since his service to the community, a cocktail was created around 1870 without fanfare nor immediate acceptance. The inventor of the cocktail, rumored to be a bartender named T.P. Thompson, called it the "Roufignac," or, as some tell the story, the "Roupegnac."

There are even a few tales that claim Mayor Roffignac himself invented the drink. Not so. Interestingly, these same tales reference the drink as being invented to provide another local cocktail to compete with the wildly popular Sazerac, with the Sazerac being developed by a solid citizen of that name. That story is also wrong on all counts: the inventor, the competition, and the date of birth for the drinks.

There is, however, the most nagging question: Why was a cocktail named after a forgotten public servant more than 40 years after he left the city falling out of the public's attention? He did a great deal of good work while he was here, but as for continuing accolades or accomplishments, nothing was top-of-mind.

The remaining question has to do with the ingredients for a now-correctly-named Roffignac. If you feel you are just now hearing about this cocktail, you are not alone. The cocktail literally dropped out of favor and out of the public eye for more than 120 years, starting almost from the time of its creation in the late 1800s all the way up to the beginning of the 21st century. Further adding to the confusion and the questions about the cocktail is its prime tasting ingredient—raspberry. If anyone has insight into why a New Orleans cocktail would feature the taste of a fruit never associated with the Crescent City, as well as one that does not grow with ease in this climate, step forward and speak.

The key ingredient around which the drink was first concocted was raspberry shrub—a mixture of the essence of the fruit and vinegar. The second dominant ingredient is more closely associated with New Orleans, either cognac or bourbon. The primary outlet for serving the Roffignac was Maylie's, a respected rooming house and dining/drinking establishment located on Poydras Street until closing in 1986. The Roffignac torch is now carried by Jewel of the South, an iconic, much awarded bar on St. Louis Street in the Quarter right near Rampart Street.

Recently, the Roffignac has enjoyed a rebirth, but, again, the whys, led by the obvious, "Why now?" are not logical or answerable.

Fortunately for all of us, making a Roffignac is simple. Just a few ingredients and only one that may not be right at hand. Even the correct glassware is common and readily available.

Roffignac Cocktail Recipe

1. Fill a highball glass with ice.

2. Add 2 ounces of cognac and 1 ounce of raspberry-flavored syrup or Creme de Framboise Liqueur, to taste.

3. Top with club soda and gently stir to mix.

4. Garnish with fresh raspberries and lime slice if desired.

The Hurricane—as created by Pat O'Brien's

It would not be reasonable to expect that a favorite cocktail of New Orleans would have any more of a straightforward tale than the twisted history traveled by the city that gave birth to it.

In New Orleans, references to compass points have to be abandoned, the sun rises over the Westbank, the topography is defined by man-made Monkey Hill—at 30-ft. above sea level, it's not the tallest dirt point in town, it's but close—and North America's mightiest river twists and turns within the city's political limits. It is only logical that a cocktail made famous here would have an interesting backstory.

Pat O'Brien, a saloon owner of some repute, was actually proprietor and bartender of an illegal establishment, Mr. O'Brien's Club Tipperary, established near the corner of Royal Street and St. Peter in early 1930. The illegality of the spot was due to the fact that Prohibition was in full effect in America and service of any alcohol was banned. In New Orleans, we actually considered federal law, namely the 18th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, to be a suggestion. Not adhering to the strict statement of the law was not necessarily a grievous legal offense.

Mr. O'Brien's establishment, like all speakeasies, required a spoken password in order to enter through a locked door. The current story is that the password was "storm's a-brewin'" or "storm's brewin'." Those may have been passwords, but, by necessity, passwords changed frequently to keep U.S. revenue agents and unwelcome guests on the outside. The "storm's a-brewin" legend was actually begun by a reporter from the New York Times several years after Prohibition ended because he thought it made for better copy in an assigned story requested by his editor.

O'Brien picked up his illegal products from a multitude of places, including from New Orleans neighbors who made alternative use of their bathtubs. When quantity was needed, O'Brien would drive to the Mississippi Gulf Coast, meet a booze-laden boat on the beach, load up his car, and drive back to his club on St. Peter through the Rigolets along the coast and under cover of darkness.

Even when Prohibition was repealed with the 21st Amendment in December 1933, O'Brien proved his rebelliousness to the end by opening his Club Tipperary to the public during the last two days of Prohibition. He was confident that no revenue agent was going to affect an outgoing law when, all along, they had not enforced the law when it was in full force.

O'Brien's business at the club was very good. It was so good, in fact, that O'Brien and his partner Charley Cantrell were encouraged to look for a larger venue. They did not have to look very far. Literally in the next block, the 700 block of St. Peter, was a large available space. The partners signed a lease deal and proceeded with sprucing the place up, which included a large patio that was perfect for enjoying cocktails. The partners renamed Club Tipperary to Pat O'Brien's in late 1933 and moved to 718 St. Peter in 1942 to a building constructed in 1791, the current home of the bar.

The years between Prohibition and the outbreak of the World Wars were not easy for bar owners. Product for a variety of reasons was in short supply. In particular, there was a shortage of spirits. Whisky, scotch, and liqueurs were almost impossible to purchase, and when purchases were made, pricing was not favorable.

The companies that sold such spirits placed limits on how much product customers could buy. Also, when a customer was good enough to earn the right to buy brown spirits, other products had to be purchased alongside. O'Brien convinced Cantrell that this system could still work to their advantage.

One of the alcohol items of which there was no limit was rum. Manufactured relatively near New Orleans and with low prices, O'Brien turned the advantage back towards himself and Cantrell. Sometime in the early 1940s, O'Brien invented a cocktail composed of light and dark rum, vodka, gin, passion fruit, grenadine, and simple syrup—a sugar rush, indeed.

Now, they had to name the cocktail, and O'Brien suggested "Hurricane;" however, there already was a cocktail named that. O'Brien had a brainstorm to top all brainstorms. He suggested to his partner that they create specialty glassware in the shape of hurricane lamps well-known to New Orleanians. Then, the partners said that the glassware would be available for customers to purchase on the spot—souvenirs, if you will. Patrons could be "sales ambassadors" for Pat O'Brien's, taking the bar's story to the streets or back home to be placed in a cherished spot, all the while alleviating the need for the bar to wash the glass. It was pure genius.

The Original Hurricane Cocktail

• Rum (usually aged rum or equal parts aged and white)

• 2 oz. passion fruit syrup

• 2 oz. lemon juice

1. Add all ingredients to a cocktail shaker with a couple small pieces of ice.

2. Shake until the ice has dissolved, then open pour the cocktail into a Hurricane glass filled with crushed ice.

3. Stir, top with more crushed ice, and garnish with an orange slice and a cocktail cherry.
   

Pat O'Brien's Hurricane Cocktail

• 1 ounce Vodka (or 2 tablespoons)

• 1 ounce Gin (or 2 tablespoons)

• 2 ounces Gold Rum (or 1 ounce each of light and dark rum)

• 1 ounce Amaretto Almond Liqueur (or 2 tablespoons)

• 1 ounce Triple Sec (or 2 tablespoons, or orange liqueur)

• 1 tablespoon Grenadine

• Add Juice (+ pineapple juice and/or passion fruit puree, as needed)

• Add Simple Syrup (optional)

• Highball Glass

• Garnish: Fruit Slices, Cherries

• Straws

1. Slice an orange in half and place the flat side down on a cutting board. Slice it into quarter-inch thick half-moons, one for each drink.

2. Fill each Hurricane glass, or the tallest glass you have, about halfway with ice to chill.

3. Fill a cocktail shaker with ice. Add the rum, passion fruit juice, lime juice, orange juice, and grenadine to the shaker.

4. Shake vigorously for about 20-30 seconds or until the shaker is frosty on the outside.

5. Strain the mixture into a Hurricane glass filled with fresh ice.

6. Garnish with an orange slice and a maraschino cherry for that final tropical touch.

The Italian Connection

It's no surprise that New Orleans is a long-time respected epicenter of the cocktail world. We've known that for 190 years, and we are not just a "flash in the pan."

Sometimes when there is an abundance of riches, certain items can be overlooked, even forgotten. Such a recipe is the Brandy Crusta. What? You've never heard of such a cocktail? You are about to get an education.

We all are aware of the sacred place the Sazerac holds in New Orleans cocktail lore. It's the first and likely the most famous. It's a perfect reflection of our heritage, both American and French, and it's easy to make and so smooth.

Trivia question: Do you know the second mixed alcoholic beverage to be invented in New Orleans in the mid-1800s? If so, and you are among the overwhelming minority, do you know the heritage of this cocktail? And do you know where it is still regularly and properly served?

Stick around for the answers.

About Sours

There is a class of cocktails known as "sours." The reason for the name is obvious. Early cocktails were based on the needs of sailors to fight disease, such as scurvy, on long ocean voyages. Yep, that reason to drink was developed by necessity, not necessarily pleasure, although pleasure was a wonderful side benefit. Sailors were at sea a long time under very unsanitary conditions. Because England ruled the seas and the conquering nation had extensive holdings in the New World, rum, that indigenous Caribbean spirit, became a favorite shipboard beverage. Every sailor had a daily ration of rum.

Rum, as we are all aware, is distilled from sugar and fruit, so it's sweet. That flavor does not fit well in all situations. Dining, for instance, may pair well with a sweet beverage. Then again, it may not. Around 1850, the issue was addressed, and spirits were also concocted from citrus. So citrus-based spirits were called "sours."

To be fair, neither sours nor sweets were distilled entirely of either raw product style. Our distillery-owning forefathers realized that a good combination of sugar and citrus yielded a decidedly tasty outcome. But there were/are styles tilted toward one dominant profile. As is known, cocktails are blends of multiple ingredients, many of which are organic, and those ingredients themselves are the result of well-defined products that grow well in certain soils. Then, the resulting "mash" is maneuvered with processes in specific vessels of well defined materials. The fruit falling off the plant is only the beginning and often is the easy part.

Anyway, every cocktail is dependent on the talented hands and mind of a human adding in the correct ingredients in the proper measure at the right time. Seems much simpler when you step up to the bar and give the bartender your order, doesn't it?

Joseph Santini

And as many humans have worked behind the bar over the course of hundreds of years, only a few have left their marks. Such an outstanding talent was Joseph Santini, a native of Trieste, Italy, which is in the northeastern part of that wonderful country. Trieste is the governmental seat of the Friuli region, not far from Venice.

Santini loved to create cocktails made from spirits in a region more closely allied with wine and grapes. His wanderlust brought him to America about 1840—more specifically to New Orleans, a major port city and a town that had a large Italian population.

He immediately gravitated to the bar scene in the Vieux Carré and then opened his own place in the American Sector on Gravier Street. He was very good at his chosen profession and created many named cocktails. One of them took the cocktail ingredients from the French side of town, namely brandy, and added some ingredients from his heritage such as cardamom bitters, lemon juice, and orange liqueur.

He then coated the rim of the glass with sugar to excite the palate and tone down the citrus aspects. But Santini himself liked citrus, so he added to the drink about half of the rind from the lemon, rolled and placed along the interior shape of the glass. Brandy Crusta was born in 1854 at Santini's bar, Jewel of the South, located at 1026 St. Louis St. near Rampart Street.

The drink was an immediate hit and made Santini a very famous bartender. It also made Jewel of the South a must-do destination. Santini was not, however, a one-hit wonder. He also created the frozen egg nog—a very popular drink in semi-tropical New Orleans—and the Pousse Café, a magical stack of various liqueurs that demonstrates the knowledge of the specific gravity of the various ingredients, as well as the steady hand of anyone who attempts to construct the drink.

Joseph Santini passed away in 1874, having assured his adopted city a permanent and treasured position in the cocktail world. He is interred in St. Louis Cemetery No. 3, and his grave is a destination, even today, for professionals and amateurs alike who want to honor a talented and dedicated New Orleans transplant.

To complete the circle, Jewel of the South, not too long ago awarded the designation as one of the Best Bars in the U.S. and a James Beard Award winner, features Santini's Crusta as a specialty.

Brandy Crusta Recipe

1 Serving

(Note: When the history of a cocktail goes back this far, along the way, changes will have been made to the style or the ingredients. We endeavor to stick as closely as possible to the original recipe.)

Ingredients

-1 tsp. Lemon Juice

-1/3 oz. Gum Syrup

-1 tsp. Orange Liqueur

-1 dash Cardamom Bitters

-2 oz. Brandy

Directions

Technique: Simple Stir

-Moisten a cocktail glass rim with a cut lemon slice and rub the end in granulated sugar to create a sugar crust.

-Combine all ingredients in the mixing glass.

-Add ice to the mixing glass.

-Stir the ingredients for 10 to 15 seconds. Try to avoid over-diluting the drink.

-Strain into a glass.

Sazerac

Let's clear a local common misconception: The cocktail concept was not invented in New Orleans.

This style of adult beverage, making use of fruit juice, spice or bitters, and a spirit (or two), was actually created in England or New York, depending on who is providing the history.

There is still much discussion about how the term "cocktail" came to be affixed on the drink. Some have claimed the earliest versions were served in a coquetier, a French cup used to serve eggs, and that the name was a derivative of what Americans could pronounce. "Coquetier" became "cocktail." It's a good story, but it's not true.

More likely, the term "cocktail" was the action and spices, notably ginger, that were placed up the back end of a racehorse, causing the animal to keep its tail in the air during racing. The ingredients, not the ones previously used on the animal, were also incorporated into the mixed adult beverages served in taverns. All of this happened in the late 1700s.

What is true, however, is that New Orleans was an early adapter and appreciator of cocktails. They were a breakfast favorite, sort of a good-for-what-ails-you way to get your day going.

A special local favorite was created by a young pharmacist behind the counter at his Royal Street apothecary in the early 1840s. Antoine Amédée Peychaud, a Creole from Saint-Domingue, now known as Haiti, concocted the bitters that bear his name to this day. Bitters are an intense blend of various spices and fruit essences used to add flavors or aromas to whatever is being prepared, usually a beverage or a food recipe. Peychaud probably created his start-the-day drink without adding any alcoholic spirit. Then in the late 1840s, he decided that the drink's recipe lent itself to become a member of the "new" category of cocktails—adult beverages.

Since he now had a popular drink served only at his pharmacy in both alcoholic and non-alcoholic forms, he felt that he needed to distinguish the two versions. He couldn't have the kids being served an adult beverage, especially one as potent as his creation. In those times, unlike our time period, cocktails were not named. Drinks were served exclusively at the emporium where they were invented.

But Peychaud now had two styles of the same recipe, basically, so he came up with a revolutionary idea. The alcohol version of his creation would go by the name of its main spirit ingredient, which happened to be Sazerac de Forge et Fils Cognac. And because Peychaud's neighborhood was French with a taste for a spirit that originated in Switzerland, absinthe, he added a dash of that distinctive anise liqueur. So was born in New Orleans the oldest named cocktail in the world—the Sazerac.

Yet, the road since the mid-1850s has not been smooth or even logical. With the success of the Sazerac came a number of aspiring cocktails. The first in a very long line of derivative cocktails was the Brandy Crusta, still featured in a number of bars.

In the late 1800s, disaster struck the European agriculture community. The root louse attacked vineyards, literally sucking the life out of the vines from deep in the soil. Vines underproduced fruit and then died a slow death. It was a long process to eradicate the pest from the soil, which required fields to lay fallow for years. That was followed by the long maturation period to allow newly planted vines to establish themselves and then show maturation. All the while, the liquid that would become wine was scarce.

Good fortune would smile upon New Orleans in regards to finding the right ingredient to substitute for the key spirit in the Sazerac cocktail. New Orleans was a key seaport at the southern end of the great river that served America's heartland. Through this place flowed the best of whiskey from Tennessee and Kentucky. New Orleans was awash in whiskey.

Out with the cognac, unavailable at any cost, and in with another flavor enjoyed by thirsty natives—rye whiskey. The changeover was swift and painless. The beloved Sazerac was saved by a product that was already here. To this day, most Sazeracs served use rye whiskey as the base spirit. Interestingly, the name of the cocktail never changed. It was still called by the name of the cognac.

Then came another challenge. Absinthe was popularly blamed for a culture of alcohol surplus. Since absinthe is 45% alcohol by volume, a very high quantity, delusional acts of violence and self-destruction have been blamed on the spirit. The drink was even nicknamed "The Green Fairy" to account for the out-of-this-world mental effects. Vincent van Gogh—the Post Impressionist master artist—and Toulouse Lautrec were both addicted to absinthe.

In the first decade of the 20th century, France, Switzerland, and, eventually, the U.S. passed laws banning the sale of absinthe. Pastis and sometimes ouzo served as pale substitutes for absinthe in the Sazerac. So now two major and key ingredients in the Sazerac were no longer being used, but the cocktail still retained its popularity and original name.

The ultimate test was yet to come. In 1919, the US passed the 18th Amendment to the Constitution, which prohibited the sale of any alcohol beverage anywhere in the country. So began a period of 14 years of Prohibition, during which obtaining a cocktail or any spirit was an illegal act.

The Sazerac, as we all know, survives and thrives to this day. In 2008, the Louisiana Legislature passed an act naming the Sazerac as the Official Cocktail of New Orleans.

INGREDIENTS

1.5 oz. Sazerac Rye Whiskey
1 sugar cube
3 dashes Peychaud's Bitters
.25 oz. Herbsaint
Lemon twist

PREPARATION

Pack a rocks glass with ice. In a second rocks glass, place a sugar cube and add three dashes of Peychaud's Bitters to it. Crush the sugar cube. Add 1.5 oz. Sazerac Rye Whiskey to the glass with the Peychaud's Bitters and sugar. Add ice and stir. Empty the ice from the first glass and coat the glass with .25 oz. Herbsaint. Discard the remaining Herbsaint. Strain the whiskey/bitters/sugar mixture from the glass into the Herbsaint coated glass and garnish with a lemon peel.

If you wish, substitute equal quantity Sazerac de Forge Finest Original Cognac for Sazerac Rye Whiskey.