Raw Deal: Egg Whites in the Mixed Drink

People nowadays are a cautious lot. Salmonella, secondhand smoke, Piers Morgan - the world teems with hidden dangers. I'm even a little scared of sitting opposite the elderly on trains - what if they cough in my direction? Really, it's no wonder the fashion for paranoia has caught on so well. Aside from the hysterical media coverage that floats behind any new scare, I'm sure this has some correlation with the irritating, modern propensity to live forever. In the good old days, people just died all over the shop and no-one really took notice. When everything could and did kill you - a splinter, the winter, stealing a sheep - panicking at every possible threat would start to be a little exhausting. Nowadays, from our cushy synthetic ivory towers, anything unprocessed and organic can seem to carry the terror of contagion. However, even within our neurotic utopia (neutopia?), it's time to see fresh egg whites returned to the bar. If a complete pussy like me will happily drink down three or four disguised in a cocktail, then you can too.
In my childhood, the idea of consuming a raw egg was roughly equivalent to falling in a lake or cutting off a thumb - the height of peril. These days, steeped in cocktail lore, the raw egg is an indispensable and beloved agent - it smoothes and elevates a mediocre sour, adds depth and body to complex aromatics and makes possible that most lauded example of Louisiana alchemy, the Ramos Gin Fizz. There are, of course, two major applications of the egg within cocktails, the frothy meringue provided by the whites and the rich, silky flips produced by yolks, but for today we'll focus on the former.
One of the most common concerns to arrest when first broaching the topic of eggs in cocktails is that of flavour. Most people don't salivate at the thought of combining scrambled eggs and whiskey (though, if you do, you've made it into my worldwide list of excellence) However, the egg white really plays no portion in the flavour of the drink - in fact, it's practically tasteless. If you've ever had an egg white omelette, you'll know this to be true. Instead, an egg white, when shaken, provides a smooth foam that adds wonderfully to texture and mouth-feel. The science behind this is fairly simple: an egg white is predominately protein; when shaken or blended, the protein is denatured or unravelled, thus creating a stiff foam. You've probably witnessed or made use of this property thousands of times before in baking. You might also know that an an acid, such as cream of tartar, helps to stabilise the foam; in the cocktail, lemon or lime juice, play a similar role, a happy coincidence since sours benefit so beautifully from its presence. The Pisco Sour, the Silver Fizz, the Clover Club are good drinks raised to elysian heights through the use of egg whites.
As for the possible dangers, there is apparently a 1 in 20000 chance of an egg being infected with salmonella according to the FDA.  Use only the white and the risk will be smaller. Use free range and the risk will be smaller still and, based on my experience, you'll get superior results. Obviously, store your eggs in the fridge. Finally, the fact that you're shaking it up with a dose of disinfecting alcohol (booze, it's the gift that keeps on giving) should alleviate most lingering concerns. For the truly timorous, there are pasteurised and powdered egg whites, which have absolutely zero chance of infection, but I'd rather go without than use them. I've never tried the latter, but regarding the former, they contribute nicely to mouth-feel, but tend not to provide the long-lasting, impressive foam. If you're still worried about fresh, personally I'd eschew egg whites entirely. For the more adventurous, read on for some recipes.

Ramos Gin Fizz


The king of egg white cocktails, this venerable fizz is transformed by both cream and egg white into a delicious, silky froth - almost an aromatic gin milkshake. Created by Henry C Ramos in 1888 New Orleans, the drink became so popular on carnival days that whole teams of shakers had to be hired to cycle the drink over 20 minutes and produce the requisite texture. Besides this being time-consuming and exhausting, one would have assumed this would have lead to a very diluted drink. Fortunately, the dry shake technique (a first shake sans ice) emulsifies the egg and cream beautifully without dilution. Then  a second good, hard shake with ice completes the process and chills to perfection.

2 shots gin (The sweeter Old Tom variety would have been traditional; Plymouth gin is a good substitute, as is Genever, the malty character of which works well with cream)
1/2 shot lime juice
1/2 shot lemon juice
3/4 shot gomme syrup (2:1)
1/2 shot milk
1/2 shot cream
1 egg white
3 drops orange flower water
2 drops vanilla extract or cardamom tincture (not traditional and completely optional)
Soda

Dry shake like a demon or blend the ingredients to a frothy consistency, and shake again with ice. When dry shaking, placing a shaker spring in with the ingredients and omitting the sugar until the cold shake helps to ensure a good foam. Pour an ounce and a half of soda into a chilled fizz glass without ice. Strain the contents of the shaker over the soda and add a couple of scant drops of orange flower water on top for an aromatic garnish (egg white can have a slightly less than appealing aroma, so all drinks containing it should have some sort of aromatic distraction)

Clover Club

One of the best uses of egg white in one of the most approachable and rewarding classic drinks. Traditionally made with raspberry syrup, grenadine is often substituted but I've found the tartness of fresh muddled raspberries to be the best of all. This version includes dry vermouth, adding a dash of herbal complexity that underlines its status as a classic. However, the primary notes of the drink are berries, citrus and smooth gin, topped with a thick raspberry meringue from the egg white.

1.5 shots gin (Plymouth)
5 raspberries muddled (or 3/4 shot raspberry syrup, in which case lose the gomme)
1/2 shot gomme syrup (2:1)
3/4 shot lemon juice
1/2 shot Noilly Prat dry vermouth
1 egg white

Muddle the raspberries, add the other ingredients and dry shake. Shake again with ice and fine strain into a chilled coupe. Express an orange twist over the foam and discard. Garnish with a raspberry on the rim.

The Alamagoozlum


Not just an obscure cocktail but a positively esoteric one, the Alamagoozlum seems to possess the perfect pedigree for an enthusiast's drink - rare ingredients, bold, challenging flavours and an improbable yet true back-story. The cocktail was supposedly invented by the illustrious financier and industrialist JP Morgan - yes, that one. The only time I've seen it on a menu is at the excellent Hawksmoor in London, which seems to have included it simply because it can. The drink features a rare example of the use of an egg white outside the sours category - here, the white is indispensable in smoothing out the strongly flavoured, heavily alcoholic constituents of the drink. I've slightly tweaked the drink by using Jamie Boudreau's innovative 'angostura scorch' technique, to toast the froth and add an aroma to complement the large quantity of bitters in the drink.

2 shots genever (Bols)
2 shots mineral water (or to taste)
1.5 shots yellow or green chartreuse
1.5 shots Jamaican rum (Wray Nephew Overproof)
1.5 shots gomme syrup (2:1)
1/2 shot angostura bitters
1/2 shot grand marnier
1 egg white

Dry shake, then shake again with ice and fine strain into a chilled coupe (perhaps three or four coupes to share). For the angostura flame, place a mixture half angostura, half overproof rum into an oil mister and carefully spray through a flame onto the egg white foam. Garnish with a pineapple wedge.

Perfect Martinis

The modern cocktail cognoscenti can be a lovably cantankerous bunch. Approach an online beverage board with news of obscure amari or a lesser known application of fernet branca and the members will embrace you with open arms; ask them about vodka cocktails or how to use up your amaretto and even the most polite respondents will struggle to omit a dash of condescension from their reply. Perhaps the most noticeable symptom of this elitism (which, by the way, I find in no way improper) is the treatment of the Martini.
In the words of HL Mencken,  "the only American invention as the perfect as the sonnet", the Martini is fittingly approached by cocktail purists with the reverence usually reserved for national poets. Their list of foibles extends from the bastardisation of its title to every drink under the sun (strawberry martini, espresso martini etc.) to the improper preparation of the original (shaken, a molecule of vermouth, drowned in olive brine). Mention the phrases, "dirty", "extra dry", or, worst of all, "chocolate" and, in certain circles, you'll get unbelievably short shrift.
Ironically, however, this barrage of disdain that inevitably appears in a discussion can sometimes cloud the appreciation of the drink itself. The focus on 'how not to do it' tends to draw attention from the issue of 'how to do it best'. In an attempt to redress the balance, let's take a look at a few variations on the Martini. Just gin, just vermouth, stirred with ice and elegantly garnished. This leaves more wiggle room than one would think.

First off, my favourite Martini

2 and 1/2 shots plymouth gin
1 shot lillet blanc
2 dash orange bitters
Lemon twist

Unfortunately, I find myself bending the rules on the first example - lillet ain't really vermouth, it's aperitif wine. Only the most bitter pedant would begrudge classing this as a martini though, because its properties, the interaction of the flavours, its style are entirely in keeping with the martini ideal. Plymouth gin is a wonderful product - abounding with juniper character, smooth with a citrus undertone. The orange notes in the lillet play beautifully with the gin. This martini is not particularly dry in either sense - the slightly sweeter Plymouth gin and the large measure of lillet conspire to keep the flavours a little softer - but the use of orange bitters provides just enough edge to pucker the mouth and leave you wanting more. The lemon twist brightens and sharpens the orange. Everything works well and there's a bit more going on than in the traditional martini.

A very traditional Dry Martini

2 and 1/2 shots London dry gin (Tanqueray export is perhaps the all time classic, but sipsmith, a gin deeply informed by traditional distilling techniques, is an excellent choice)
3/4 shot Noilly Prat
1 dash orange bitters
Olive garnish

Ask for a good Martini recipe from a good bartender and 9 times out of 10, you'll get something like this. Good gin, a decent glug of Noilly Prat (no fucking "whisper of vermouth here"), this was the staple of the three-martini lunch. The dry gin combines excellently with vermouth. Noilly prat, full of herbal flavour and fruitful bitterness, may be a standard choice, but there's a good reason: it does the job better than almost any other. The orange bitters make a cameo, lending a hint of delicate spice. My personal preference is for a twist, but tradition and elegance demand an olive. One, mind. It's a cocktail, not a buffet.

The Fiddy Fiddy Martini (Pegu Club)

1 and 1/2 shots London Dry gin (Tanqueray again)
1 and 1/2 shots dry vermouth (Noilly Prat or Dolin Dry)
2 dash orange bitters
Lemon twist

The Fiddy Fiddy, straight from Pegu Club's hall of fame, is a sterling riposte to the oversized basins of frozen gin that characterise the bungler's approach to a Martini. Equal gin and vermouth, this Martini is the perfect illustration of the wondrous properties of vermouth. Stale, cheap vermouth has no place to hide here, but a good fresh. Regarding vermouth, Noilly prat works well, but the subtleties of the lighter Dolin come through extremely well in this ratio.


Extra Dry Martini

Beefeater Gin
Martini Extra Dry Vermouth
Dry Essence
Olive

"Extra Dry" - sacrilege! Luckily, the moniker for 69 Colebrooke Row's signature Martini here refers to the use of a few drops of potent mouth-drying agent to encourage salivation and consequently taste sensitivity. No measures for this one, unfortunately, though given the likelihood of many people actually producing the dry essence for themselves, this is probably a non-issue.


The 'ever so slightly stretching the criteria' Martini

2 and a 1/2 shots Beefeater 24
1 shot Earl Grey infused vermouth (Noilly Prat infused over an hour with tea)
2 dash grapefruit bitters
Grapefruit twist

A highly tweaked Martini making best use of Beefeater 24's unique portfolio of flavours. Richly endowed with bittersweet citrus notes and with the herbal backbone of the vermouth accentuated by the tea infusion, this Martini certainly justifies the innovation.