5 Drinks To Try If You Love A French 75

For all its inherent glamour, the French 75 is essentially fancy jungle juice. It hails from the New York Bar in Paris, which might be partially to thank for its fabulous metropolitan feel. In execution, this simple sipper spikes sparkling wine with gin (buckle in), sharpened by a bright hit of lemon juice and tamed by the sweet roundness of a little simple syrup. The mixture gets served in a flute glass, befitting the bubbly's necessary aeration, with a lemon curl perched on the rim.

London dry gin and brut champagne combine for the French 75's signature profile — dry without being tart, lightly botanical from the gin, well-balanced, and impressively accessible. The result is clean and goes down wildly easy. The name French 75 itself is borrowed from the whip-fast 75 millimeter gun used by French troops during the first World War. For seasoned imbibers and fans of this not-to-be-underestimated drink, we've rounded up five similar cocktails to satisfy a French 75 craving.

All of our picks are gin-based cocktails, and none of them include the French 75's signature effervescent mouthfeel. However, as always, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and comparison is the thief of joy. There's nothing in the rulebook that says you couldn't add a splash of champagne to any of these cocktails for a touch of fizz and a longer drink. In fact, before the 1980s, French 75s were customarily served long over ice in a Collins or highball glass.

Cocktail enthusiasts would be hard-pressed to name a sipper that's prettier and more impressive than a classic aviation. This iconic cocktail follows the French 75's base of gin and fresh lemon juice, but the additions of maraschino liqueur and crème de violette make for a sweeter, rounder tasting profile. It's red berry fruity, slightly acidic, and dominated by bitter floral tones. We dare you not to feel fancy while sipping this one.

The Aviation is a lavender-toned, cherry-violet French 75 spinoff sure to please guests craving a sophisticated atmosphere. This retro refuge fits all the same-vibe occasions at which you'd want to serve a French 75, but requires a little extra hands-on mixology skills — an opportunity to flex when hosting dinner parties. To assemble, Aviations get shaken over ice, strained into a coupe or Nick and Nora glass, then garnished with a brandied cherry skewer balanced across the rim.

Here at Tasting Table, we'll never stop singing the praises of this violet-hued and violet-flavored marvel. Aviations are pretty and nuanced, but notoriously tough to pair with food. Serve this star-of-the-show cocktail without any clashing supporting actors. If you need a snack alongside this sipper, angel food cake or vanilla pound cake complement those strong violet tones beautifully.

A Carnation Instant Breakfast commercial from 1965 asks, "Had any really good days lately? Like when the sun shines brighter, and people seem friendlier, and work goes faster? Days like that? Well, the really good days start out good, with new Carnation Instant Breakfast." If true, then the corpse reviver no. 2 is an apt understudy. Bust out the eggs Benedict and a glass of this potent elixir and see what we mean.

There are two versions of the corpse reviver cocktail, but for a fitting French 75 dupe, we prefer the second variation. As its name implies, this pre-Prohibition classic is all about the punchy ABV, not unlike the French 75. The corpse reviver no. 2 was designed to cure even the gnarliest hangover, reanimating fallen warriors like a sexy, lemony marionette-master.

On the palate, the cocktail shares the French 75's top notes of gin and lemon. Citrusy, fortified orange Lillet Blanc and an absinthe rinse take it up a notch, plus help retain the gin-spiked-wine ABV of the French 75. As legendary bartender Harry Craddock wrote in his seminal 1930 "The Savoy Cocktail Book," "Four of these taken in swift succession will unrevive the corpse again." This dangerously-balanced cocktail is a ballet of sweet and sour tones, matured by the botanical gin base and the licorice-y absinthe — a jolting start (or a catatonic close) to Dionysian days since the mid-1800s.

The last word cocktail was created at the Detroit Athletic Club around 1920, just before the start of Prohibition. A swift legal choke couldn't kill this enduring, pioneering classic, which flashes the neon-green jewel tones that wouldn't become popular in the cocktail world until the 1980s. Happily, unlike its vibrant '80s counterparts, the last word delivers technicolor peacock preen without the help of artificial sour mix (it's all about the Chartreuse here). Today, the last word remains a benchmark of cocktail literacy for contemporary bartenders worth their Hawthorne strainers.

Last words comprise equal parts London dry gin, green Chartreuse, maraschino liqueur, and lime juice. This timeless, elevated sipper gives a cherry-lime spike and a bitter herbaceous depth to the French 75's comparative lemony brightness — flip-sides of the same coin. Like the aviation, the last word is assembled by shaking over ice, straining into a coupe glass, and garnishing with a brandied cherry skewer. The botanical gin and sharp, intensely herbal Chartreuse give this cocktail a full-bodied bravado. For the signature green hue, green chartreuse is not interchangeable with yellow chartreuse here (or pretty much anywhere in the mixology realm).

Like the other punchy selections in our French 75-adjacent lineup, the last word is named for its potent ability to render the sipper physically speechless(insert "going non-verbal at the club" meme here). The 40% ABV gin and 55% ABV Chartreuse work in tandem to deliver a knockout hit, back-ended by the tame but not-imperceptible maraschino liqueur.

Think of the Pegu Club like a gin sour, hold the egg whites. This tart staple meets on-the-rocks rum daiquiris and tequila margaritas with the botanical flair and refreshing fruitiness one might expect from a gin-based equivalent. Named after an eponymous cocktail bar in Myanmar,this establishment's signature drink has spread far beyond Southeast Asia to cocktail lovers worldwide since its inception in the late-1800s. It even inspired the name for a renowned, now-defunct craft cocktail bar in Manhattan's Soho, which helped give the Pegu Club drink a modern rebirth in the mixology scene.

The Pegu Club comprises gin, triple sec, and lime juice, finished with a dash of both Angostura and orange bitters. It's a simple yet dark take on the classic sour cocktail formula, which typically never sees bitters as an ingredient and usually includes simple syrup. Like a French 75, the Pegu Club is gin-based, citrus-forward, and not too sweet. To assemble, the ingredients get shaken over ice, strained into a Nick and Nora glass, and topped with a lime wedge or lime zest twist. If the spirit moves you, the Pegu Club would make a fantastic candidate for lengthening with a slug of fizzy champagne, French 75-style. Just swap the Nick & Nora glass for an ice-filled highball glass and pour away.

A classic lemon drop martini combines vodka, fresh lemon juice, simple syrup, and a splash of triple sec. The lemon, simple syrup, spirit-forward base mirrors the flavor foundation of a French 75. But, this traditionally vodka-based sipper could be made to favor gin for a closer spinoff. To assemble, the ingredients are shaken over ice and strained into a sugar-rimmed, V-shaped martini glass with a lemon twist perched on the edge. You can even use that fresh lemon juice as the binding agent to make the coarse sugar stick to the rim. 

Flavor-wise, that neutral vodka lets the fresh lemon juice and sweetener shine. But, by substituting the vodka for equal parts vodka and gin, that lemon drop martini can bring major French 75-esque botanical notes into the mix. For a greater kick of lemon, you could even use one ounce of gin and one ounce of citron-flavored vodka.

The lemon drop martini would also make a terrific cocktail for stretching with a splash of bubbly brut champagne. With this reimagined assembly, the drink would become a sweeter, lemony, less botanical take on the French 75 — not unlike a grown-up glass of lemonade with powerful potency lurking just below the surface. Garnish this refreshing champagne-spiked lemon drop martini variation with a lemon wheel sail and a skewer of fresh raspberries.