Ok, let’s try this math business again. The fact that it’s Lo-Fi Happy Hour, I got that right. The number, tho—always a bit wobbly. Last night was 38, but so is this one. Go figure! Maybe I shouldn’t write these fuckers up on the spot; do some prep and—nah. In fact, hell nah!

Today’s been another one of those days where the news ain’t good and evil stalks the land in thigh-high boots. The best antidote’s something utterly sublime, like a Martini (done that) or, hey, a Ramos Gin Fizz, which is what the angels drink on high. So baptize yer mitts and go!

We’re gonna need some gin. Henry Carl Ramos, whose recipe I consider scripture, used Old Tom. So can you, or just use a good, normal London dry. The difference will be negligible.

You’ll need this stuff, too. The thing in the container is an egg white left over from last night’s Carbonara. You can use half and half instead of the heavy cream, but go organic for either if possible. Less additives. Orange flower water in the bottle. Essential. Ish.

Your tools, or rather mine. Use what you use for shaking. You’ll want a shaker that doesn’t leak.

Start with half an ounce of lemon juice...

...and half an ounce of lime. Into the shaker with both.

A heaping barspoon of sugar (if the spoon is small, use two level spoons), and briefly stir it into the juice.

An ounce of moo. Whatever you’re using.

An ounce and a half of Old Tom. I had half that in the Hayman’s bottle so I supplemented with Tanq. Shhh.

A few drops of the orange flower water. Go easy here. If you don’t have this, don’t worry about it. There’s no substitute, but it’s an accent, not the whole drink.

And, oh yeah, the egg white. You only want half, so beat it lightly with a fork and it will be easy to divide.

Now the dry shake. Ramos didn’t do this, and it ain’t strictly necessary, but it does make for a frothier drink. That’s a good thing. So seal up the shaker, without the ice, and shake. It might leak a bit without the vacuum effect caused by the ice.

NOW the ice. Fill ‘er up and let ‘er rip. Shake it like you were shaking the maracas in Tito Puente’s band on a Saturday night with errrrrybody dancing.

Now pull your glass out of the freezer—y’all and thin and not much bigger than 8 oz, and not much smaller, either. (A champagne flute will work.) pour in an ounce of cold sparkling water.

And strain in your Fizz, gently.

And there stands the glass. The Ramos Gin Fizz, one of the small pinnacles of human achievement. Thank you, Carl Ramos.

Today’s Toast has been brought to you by Hunter Rye. “First over the bars.”