How the Grasshopper Cocktail Got its Wings

One part nostalgia, one part indulgence, this vivid green classic has been leaping across generations since its French Quarter debut.

Tujague’s Restaurant and Bar’s Grasshopper

Tujague’s Grasshopper

Bright green, minty and oh so creamy, the Grasshopper feels like a mid-century dessert drink, but its story actually begins in New Orleans in 1918. That’s when Philip Guichet, the owner of Tujague’s Restaurant and Bar, created the cocktail for a competition. His concoction of crème de menthe, crème de cacao and cream was unlike the era’s spirit-forward drinks. The pale-green concoction quickly went on to become one of America’s most recognizable after-dinner cocktails, spreading from French Quarter bars to supper clubs around the nation.

 

The Origin of the Grasshopper

New Orleans lays claim to the invention of a handful of cocktails, including the Vieux Carré, first mixed in the 1930s at the Hotel Monteleone’s slowly rotating Carousel Bar, and the Ramos Gin Fizz, whose foamy head and creamy texture require a staggeringly long shake. Even earlier, bartenders stirred the country’s very first cocktail, the Sazerac. But for some reason, the Grasshopper is often an overlooked entry in New Orleans’ cocktail lore. Maybe it’s due to the drink’s not-found-in-nature hue, or its dinner mint-like flavor profile. However, today it’s finding its way back onto modern cocktail menus, proving the Grasshopper still has legs more than a century later.

The author, Kelly Magyarics enjoying a grasshopper at Tujague's

The author, Kelly Magyarics enjoying a grasshopper at Tujague's

During a recent trip to New Orleans, I headed to Tujague’s to sample this locust-inspired libation in its natural habitat. I also chatted with bar manager Camilla Ramirez, who shared with me its enduring appeal—and the original recipe.

“Philip made it for a national cocktail competition up in New York City and came in second place, and by the next year people were ordering it regularly,” she says. “It was always meant to be a dessert cocktail, which was a big thing in the early 1900s, and over a hundred years later people are still asking for it, which really speaks to its legacy.”

What really struck me about Tujague’s Grasshopper was the presentation and the texture. Though I can’t say it’s a frequent drink order, I have tried a handful elsewhere over the years, most of which arrived in a pint or milkshake glass—and were blended like one. This one, on the other hand, was served in a flute, which allows for a more manageable portion. And it was shaken and strained, which resulted in a creamy, dreamy mouth feel that, dare I say it, reminded me a little bit of a Ramos Gin Fizz. Ramirez believes it’s just a better drink that way, and I wholeheartedly agree.

“Shaking gives it this really nice silky texture that’s creamy but still feels like a cocktail,” she points out. “The flute feels elegant and the portion feels intentional—you’re not pounding a frozen drink, you’re sipping something crafted.”

 

Grasshopper Riffs

You’ll find several variations on the Grasshopper out in the wild. A Flying Grasshopper replaces the cream with vodka, a Frozen Grasshopper scoops mint ice cream, and an After Eight drizzles a layer of dark chocolate liqueur on top. At Sweet Liberty in Miami, bartenders use mezcal and Branca Menta. The recipe at Dante in New York is more traditional, though it’s topped with shaved dark chocolate. But the original is arguably the best.

Beyond technique and presentation, Ramirez insists the drink works best with (or as) dessert. Ordering a Grasshopper is situational, which may explain why it’s been unfairly dismissed as not “serious”. I’m reminded of a story from decades ago, when three guy friends fresh off turning 21 went out to celebrate: two ordered beers, and the third ordered a Grasshopper and got ribbed for it all night.

But I was at Tujague’s for brunch, not dinner. After crab-topped fried green tomatoes, shrimp and artichoke dip fried oysters atop poached eggs and buttermilk biscuits, I have to say the Grasshopper was the perfect ending: not too big, not too sweet, with a bracing, minty vibe. Who needs that bowl of mints on the way out the door? If you are going to pair it with food, though, Ramirez suggests their flourless chocolate cake. They also serve Grasshopper ice cream if you want to go all in on the flavor.

This year, Tujague’s is celebrating its 170th anniversary, which is reason enough to toast with this approachable, nostalgic and unapologetically delicious cocktail, which has been on the menu for a hundred years and is still going strong. “That’s not something you can manufacture, people feel that when they order it,” Ramirez says. “Having one at the end of your meal at Tujague’s just feels right. It’s one of those New Orleans moments.”

 

The Tujague’s Grasshopper

Recipe courtesy of Tujague’s Restaurant & Bar, New Orleans, LA

Grasshopper cocktail at Tujague’s in NOLA

Grasshopper cocktail at Tujague’s in NOLA

Whip up a round of the OG recipe to serve at the end of your next dinner party.  “It was literally designed to be a dessert cocktail and it shows,” Ramirez notes. “It’s sweet, rich and it’s got that mint-chocolate profile that people love.”

¾ oz. green crème de menthe
¾ oz. white crème de menthe
¾ oz. crème de cacao
¾ oz. heavy cream
¾ oz. whole milk
½ oz. brandy
1 tsp. Brandy (for topping)

Combine the first six ingredients in a cocktail shaker. Add ice and shake hard until well chilled. Strain into a chilled Champagne flute and float the brandy on top.