ing emporium gave the mixture the long deliberate shak
ing it received from the shaker boys behind the Ramos
bar, and that was the secret of its lip-smacking goodness.
Came prohibition, and the drink that made the name of
Ramos famous disappeared. After the return of legal
liquor the trade name of Ramos on a gin fizz was ac
quired by the Hotel Roosevelt, and today that is its legal
domicile.
The gin fizz, and by that I mean the common or gar
den variety, had its beginning way back yonder, but the
Ramos concoction was not known to Orleanians until
1888 when Henry C. Ramos came to NewOrleans from
Baton Rouge and purchased the Imperial Cabinet saloon
from Emile Sunier. The Cabinet was located at the
corner of Gravier and Carondelet streets (where a
modern Sazerac saloon now holds forth) and above it,
on the second story, was a famous restaurant of days
gone by—The Old Hickory. Here it was that Henry
Ramos served the gin fizz that departed so radically from
the other frothy gin mixtures served in New Orleans
saloons, and here he remained until 1907 when he pur
chased Tom Anderson's Sta^r saloon opposite the Gravier
street entrance to the St. Charles Hotel.
The new place became a mecca for the thirsty and for
those pioneers who would make a pilgrimage of any sort
for a new drink. At times The Stag became so crowded
that customers were forced to wait an hour or more (or
so it seemed) tobe served. The corps ofbusy shaker boys
behind the bar was one of the sights of the town during
Carnival, and in the 1915 Mardi Gras, 35 shaker boys
nearly shook their arms off, but were still unable to keep
Up with the demand.
Forty-five