Tom-Collins1London (1875-ish)

Order a Tom Collins in most bars and you’re likely to get back something that tastes like Gatorade. Make it at home, take about thirty more seconds than the restaurants do, and you’ll taste a complete 180° on this tall, refreshing quaff. Serve it on a hot afternoon and you’ll get the picture pretty quick.

This is a great one for people who say they don’t like gin – especially when made with the original Old Tom style of gin versus London Dry. Couldn’t be smoother.

Story goes the traditional garnish on the East Coast is an orange wheel with a maraschino cherry; West Coast gets a lime wheel and maraschino cherry. Midwesterners, I say split the difference and use a lemon.

The Collins, as a family, is essentially a sour with dilution by way of fizz. Add a spice element and you’d have a punch. The history of the Tom Collins is a little hard to pin down – there are stories of a bar prank (“hey, man, Tom Collins was just in here talking shit about you – he just left for the bar up the street”), hazy evidence linking it to a bartender named Collins… but the obvious answer to at least part of the name is its use of Old Tom gin. Old Tom was the gin in the 19th century, coming after Genever (aka “Holland gin” but not really a gin) and before the London Dry style that took hold around 1900. It’s a lightly-sweetened gin with less emphasis on juniper than London Dry, more on the other botanicals – citrusy and floral.


Hardware: Shaker, Jigger, Barspoon, Cocktail pick, Straw (optional)
Ice: Ice cubes, Cracked ice
Glassware: Collins glass
Spirits: Old Tom gin (recommended: Hayman’s)
Mixers & Liqueurs: Simple syrup, Seltzer (or tonic water (recommended: Fever-Tree) or sparkling mineral water (recommended: Pellegrino))
Juices, Accents, & Garnishes: Lemon juice, Lime wheel (or orange or lemon), Cherry (recommended: Filthy amarena, Luxardo maraschino)


In a shaker about a third-full with ice cubes, add:

2 oz Old Tom gin
1 oz lemon juice
oz  simple syrup

Shake well to blend and chill, then strain into a Collins glass filled about two-thirds of the way up with cracked ice. Top with:

1 oz seltzer

Stir lightly to blend and garnish with a lime (or orange or lemon) wheel and cherry pierced on a cocktail pick. Optionally, serve with a straw.

Uncertain origin (1870s)
Knickerbocker Hotel, New York City (1911)

This is The One Martini, if you ask me. Beyond the really annoying Chocotini, Appletini thing. I’m talking about more subtle variations – more vermouth, less vermouth, a dash of olive brine, a dash of Scotch, blah blah. With the right ingredients, this archetypal cocktail doesn’t need anything else. The Martini has even become iconic visual shorthand for “cocktail” – check warning labels and outdoor sign icons. Ignore James Bond’s assertion about shaking Martinis, he just wanted to sound like a tough guy.

It’s supposed to be quick and simple, but somehow it’s taken on this air of mystery and reverence. Seems everyone who likes Martinis gets really anal about exactly how they like theirs. Guess I’m in that crowd now. Old Tom gin rounds out the corners nicely, London Dry will be snappier, Plymouth will be citrusy – see what you prefer.

You’ll notice this recipe follows the exact template as the Manhattan, just swapping ingredients. It’s a winning combo worth tinkering with: two parts spirit, one part aperitif, two dashes of a complementary bitters. Try substituting one or more ingredients out and see what you come up with – after all, bartenders have been doing the same thing since 1870 or so!

The French (AKA dry or white) style of vermouth used here came into being about 100 years after the original Italian (AKA sweet or red) style. They’re both made with a white wine base, actually – the difference in Italian vermouth is the mix of botanicals and sugar – and the use of caramel color or (less commonly) barrel aging.

The exact origin of the Martini is a mystery that may never be solved. Some point to the East Bay, California town of Martinez (home of the similar Martinez cocktail), some suggest Italian bartenders named “Martini,” but the Occam’s Razor answer is simply this: Martini (later named Martini & Rossi) began importing their Italian vermouth to the US around 1870, with the dry French style making its stateside debut around 1900. Folks would ask for a “Martini cocktail” the same way they might ask for a “brandy cocktail” or “whiskey cocktail.” It’s possible the Martinez and Martini were the same cocktail at one time, evolving to distinguish themselves by choice of vermouth style and accent flavors. Even though more vermouth brands became available in the US over time (Cinzano, Noilly Prat, Dolin), the name Martini stuck. For a time in the 1990s, the name “Martini” came to denote any cocktail served up; Thankfully, we’re getting away from that. The venerable Martini deserves more respect than to be saddled with a reputation as frilly and foo-foo.


Hardware: Mixing glass, Jigger, Barspoon, Hawthorne strainer, Fine-mesh strainer, Cocktail pick
Ice: Ice cubes, Cracked ice
Glassware: Cocktail glass
Spirits: Old Tom gin (recommended: Hayman’s) or London Dry gin (recommended: Beefeater, Tanqueray) or Plymouth
Mixers & Liqueurs: French vermouth (recommended: Dolin, Noilly Prat)
Juices, Accents, & Garnishes: Orange bitters (recommended: Regan’s), Pimento-stuffed olive (optional – recommended: Dirty Sue), Lemon twist


Chill a cocktail glass in the freezer at least ten minutes.

In a mixing glass, add:

2 oz gin
1 oz French vermouth
2 dashes orange bitters

Add a mix of ice cubes and cracked ice to cover well above the liquid level. Stir well to blend and chill, then double-strain (to catch small bits of ice)  into the chilled glass. Pinch a lemon twist over the drink to express oils onto its surface, then lightly brush the twist around the glass exterior. Discard the twist.

Optionally, garnish with an olive pierced on a cocktail pick.

ramosginfizzNew Orleans, Louisiana (1888)

The Ramos Gin Fizz doesn’t mean to be difficult, really. It’s just that creating a glassful of pillowy heaven does take a bit of work and attention. Even the name – which shouldn’t be difficult – is: the correct Spanish pronunciation is “RAH-mose” but most people I know say this as “RAY-mose.” To make things more confusing, in New Orleans, some say it “RAY-muss.” Whatever. As they say, “Call me anything you want, just don’t call me late for breakfast.”

This drink evolved from the basic Sour 2:1:1 formula (spirit:citrus:sweet) into a Fizz (by adding seltzer, like a Tom Collins but without ice) and from there into a group of fancy Fizzes (egg white makes a Silver Fizz, egg yolk makes a Golden Fizz, whole egg makes a Royal Fizz). Adding cream and orange flower water was the masterstroke by barman Henrico “Henry” Charles Ramos at the now-extinct Imperial Cabinet Saloon in New Orleans back in 1888. The drink became so popular, Ramos employed a line of up to 35 “Shaker Boys” to pass the shaking tins down an assembly line, vigorously shaking each drink in succession for up to 12 minutes total.

125 years of practice and refinement have perfected this little number. Some will tell you removing the spring from a Hawthorne strainer and adding it to the shaker will help whip the drink, but in practice, it actually over-aearates the drink. Some will say you have to shake the drink for ten minutes – that’s bullshit, too. Don’t add the seltzer to the mix, either – the shaker will have a hard enough time staying sealed with the egg white and cream expanding as you go. You may occasionally see a couple drops of vanilla in this drink – which tends to overwhelm the delicate flavors, if you ask me. But good ice does make a key difference here, even though you’ll only be using one cube from a Tovolo 1″ ice tray (unless you’re one of those mad geniuses with a Kold-Draft machine at home). The density of the ice will ensure the drink dilutes, chills, and whips properly. And the right glassware is crucial (an 8-ounce fizz glass like the Libbey 2318 Lexington), to help hold that stasis of booze, air, and protein afloat. Don’t try to make two of these in one shaker – it just won’t work.

This technique was taught to me by 320 Main bartender Shaun Cole, who learned it from bartender, brand ambassador, and consultant Marcos Tello. Word is, Marcos traveled the country gathering techniques from various bartenders and even food scientists, then consolidated the best-of into this recipe. Jason Schiffer, owner of 320 Main, told me this drink “lets bartenders show off their skills like no other drink.” It takes focus and practice to get this one right, but the effort is rewarded. The ideal texture is a tight, dense, almost-meringue-like foam floating atop a creamy, aerated liquid base – not a frothy mass of loose, sloppy bubbles.

If you’re concerned about consuming raw egg whites, try not to be. It’s fine, you won’t die. Just make sure your eggs are cold and fresh, and that you don’t get any chickenshit in your drink.

The Ramos Gin Fizz is perfect for a warm spring or summer brunch, so long as you’re up to the task. Reserve this for a morning that’s not a morning-after!


Hardware: Jigger, Shaker, Eyedropper, Muddler, Tovolo 1″ Ice Cube Tray, Straw, Spoon
Glassware: 8-ounce fizz glass
Ice: Ice cube
Spirit: Old Tom gin (recommended: Hayman’s) or London Dry gin (recommended: Beefeater) or Plymouth gin
Mixer: Simple syrup, Seltzer or Tonic water (recommended: Fever-Tree) or sparkling mineral water (recommended: Pellegrino)
Accents & Garnishes: Lemon juice, Lime juice, Orange flower water (look for a French brand, but Middle Eastern will do), Heavy cream (aka “whipping cream” – but not whipped cream), Egg white


Chill a fizz glass in the freezer at least ten minutes. In a cocktail shaker, combine:

1 1/2 oz gin
1/2 oz lemon juice
oz lime juice
3/4 oz simple syrup
1/2 oz heavy cream
drops orange flower water

In a second container (to avoid contamination from a piece of eggshell), separate:

1 egg white

Discard the yolk and the chalazae (the thick, stringy part connected to the yolk) and combine the egg white with the previous ingredients. Seal the shaker very tightly and dry shake for ten to twelve seconds to emulsify the ingredients. Hold the shaker lid firmly while shaking – the egg whites will foam and expand in volume and will create pressure in the shaker.


1 ice cube (1″ square)

Whip the shaker vigorously until you hear the ice cube has completely dissolved. Pour, unstrained, into the chilled fizz glass. Hold the glass in one hand, and, using a muddler, tap on the bottom of the glass for a minute or two. Look for the level of the drink to settle down about 1/8″ or so, and for any large bubbles in the foam to dissipate. You’re looking for a thick, consistent foam texture in the drink. Next, to the surface of the drink, add:

2 drops orange flower water

In the used shaker, add:

2 oz seltzer

Slowly drizzle the seltzer straight down the center of the drink from a height of about an inch or two. If you’ve done everything right, you’ll see the foamy head of the drink rising slowly above the rim of the glass. Keep pouring seltzer down the same spot and keep an eye on the foamy head. If it starts to sag around the edges, stop adding seltzer.

Serve with a straw (and a spoon to scoop out those last bits of meringuey goodness), then congratulate yourself on creating a thing of beauty. Kick back the rest of the day, you’ve earned it.

p.s. You may want to keep a spoon handy for scooping out the last little bit of foamy, citrusy goodness.