“Everybody should believe in something; I believe I’ll have another drink. ” ~Author Unknown
Many many moons ago a group of us had drinks at the Warwick hotel in Manhattan. And like any other evening of drinks with girlfriends, we sat among each other laughing and catching up until the server arrived. The server, I still remember as he served two of us again months later, asked for our drink orders – and so far all of this very typical night out – and that is when dear Alexa chimed in that I should try the French 75. What could that be? I wondered out loud and read the description of gin, champagne and a little bit of sugar. Why yes! I exclaimed. For it was a balmy summer evening, I shall have one of those. Moments later the server returned with a champagne flute full of my drink. I put the glass to my lips as my mouth curled into a smile. Oh, that is good. And from there a love was born.
Later in the summer while in New Orleans and then Seattle I was surprised at the popularity of the French 75. Why yes, all bartenders responded, of course I can make that. And if you’re looking for true excitement, said a waitress in Seattle, We also have the Seattle 75 and Seattle 76. It seems they like to mix things up when mixing things up in Seattle. With each sip out of a flute and with my pinkie up, I spent two weeks of the summer drinking this divine champagne cocktail accompanied by raw oysters. For two weeks things were delectable.
But oh, there is always a sad bit to every story. In this story it is the return home to a town without oysters. A town that thrived on wings and burgers. Which is fine but I craved. Oh did I crave my French 75. And so to every bar I went asking tip hungry bartenders if they could make me one. What is that, they’d reply. And I’d shrug and request a deep red wine. Forever leaving my mouth unhappy as what it wanted was nowhere near by.
One evening I went to the Volstead. Perhaps you’ve heard of it? A bar in midtown Manhattan. There was a full rager going on there. The weekend had been solid so of course I’d be able to get my drink of choice to end the weekend in style. So I sauntered up to the bar – already full of liquid courage – and asked for a French 75. Hmmm, the bartender said. I’ve never heard of it. I’ll show you! I said eager to see if I could remember and remember I did. Some gin! And then some lemon! Now simple syrup! And shake it! Now pour it into a champagne glass. Pour the champagne on top. Add a twist.
Here, he put the glass towards me and I sipped. So?
Perfect.
I carted my drink around to friend after friend proud of my new skill to remember how to make a drink – or anything for that matter – without having the directions directly in front of my face. I offered sips and each friend found what I had in my hands to be remarkable. Gin? AND Champagne? Who would have thought of this? Surely not I but I was glad to bring it to the masses. Oh and that bartender, he was thrilled. I tipped him 50% and told him to remember me.
Weeks later I was walking from the Upper East Side back in the direction of Midtown and was parched. My iPhone led me to Uncorked where I sat down and politely requested a French 75, please. The bartender said sure. So I sat and we chatted about tattoos and he made me two(!) more.
What follows here are photos of a bartender making a French 75 after you’ve already had a French 75 and this what they call the ‘Lush Effect’ on Hipstamatic:
1 1/2 shots of gin 
1/2 shot lemon juice
1/2 shot simple syrup
Shake, shake, shake!
Pour
Add Champagne.
Et voila! Enjoy.
11 Comments
Oh, I’m so glad you defined this. I thought you were enjoying a nice 1975 French wine. I’m either dumb or brilliant on that one. You decide.
Mmmm that sounds divine! I think I’ll go make one for this scorcher of an evening in Los Angeles… thanks for the tip!
When ever I hear or read the word lush I’m reminded of a line from a TV show called “James at 15.”
James’ British friend, “Just because Mummy and Daddy lush it up a bit doesn’t make them common drunks!”
LOVE French 75s. A few weeks ago, it was the perfect night for one. I ordered one at the bar where I was spending my evening. First, the young lady tending bar didn’t know what it was. Then she broke the sad news that they don’t have Champagne. I was distraught.
I am saddened that I have almost made it to 29 and have not made or heard of this before. So many of my favorite things: gin! lemon! champagne! I’ll have to remedy this issue very quickly.
It was October and we were celebrating a friend’s 40th birthday with a weekend in the city. Brunch at Prune involved a one hour wait, so we put our names on the list and walked down the street to have a cocktail. There was the French 75 on the menu and a love affair was born. I remember being excited to see you tweet about it – that’s how much I love it.
1 1/2 shots gin topped with champagne? THAT explains why I got bombed on two French 75s. You and Alexa are a bad influence.
Hahaha! I’m with Pammer! I thought you were all of a sudden very wealthy and drinking French wines from 1975 regularly. (I am giggling like a fool at my desk at this, BTW.)
I shall try this on my vacation in Portland this weekend!
So…I work a few blocks away from the Volstead and it is definitely our happy hour place of choice! The bartenders are great mixologists and friendly! Glad you enjoyed one of my fave places
That sounds delish!
Thank you for the recipe! Looking forward to “testing” these with some friends this weekend. *glug glug*
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[...] get to do this in the summer; these random get-togethers. This was the night that I made French 75′s but was running late because I forgot the lemons. Lemons are crucial to the French 75, they give it [...]