A Perfect Martini

For the past 13 days I have been enjoying one of the simple pleasures of life. The Martini! Only one per day; that’s what I had promised my daughter if she would be so kind to procure a bottle of Gordon’s Gin for me.

My daughter doesn’t really like me drinking Gin; she says that I get strange, at least stranger than my normal strangeness. Plus she mentions that I have the tendency to fall when trying to rise from a chair when I drink a Gin Martini. This phenomenon has only happened to me twice in the past 9 years; but unfortunately she was present at both times.

Some say that Gin is an acquired taste (as is any liquor or malt beverage coming from the British Isles), but I liked it the first time that I drank it, with tonic, when I was stationed in Africa. The Eritrean Bartender at the Service Club said that it was good for me; the quinine in the tonic water helped to prevent malaria. He explained, therefore the more that I drank the better it was for me; it would be good for my health. I bought into his theory because I wanted to drink more gin and tonics. Besides it was a plausible explanation.

I drank my first Martini at the Officers Club on Fort Meade, Maryland in 1969. I wanted to appear sophisticated and everyone who drank a Martini in the movies was stylish and sophisticated. I was at the club on my first date with a charming young lady that I had met the week before.

I ordered a Martini and she ordered a rum and coke. The bartender asked if I wanted it up or on the rocks, shaken or stirred and if I wanted an Olive or a Twist. I remember that James Bond drank his shaken and served up, so I ordered it shaken and up with both an Olive and Twist.

The first sip that I took nearly gagged me; how could anyone drink this concoction? My date asked if she could take a sip, I, of course, said yes and she took a sip. The look on her face was what I was feeling inside but afraid to show openly. I asked her if anything was wrong and she replied “How can you drink that horrible thing?” Nine months later she married me anyway; probably because I had switched back to gin and tonic.

In 1976 I went to a bar with my friend Les, who was a regular patron at this particular bar. Les' drink of choice was a martini, on the rocks with a twist. He didn’t have to order his drink because the bartender knew exactly what he wanted.

I watched the bartender prepare his Martini. First he put the Vermouth into the glass and swirled it around and then dumped it out. Next he rimmed the glass with a lemon twist, dropped it into the glass and iced the glass. Then he filled the iced glass with Beefeater Gin.

On the next round I ordered a Martini telling the bartender “The same as you made for Les, but make mine up and with both an Olive and a twist.” This time I enjoyed my Martini. Les told me that the key to a good Martini was to use as little Vermouth as possible. He was right!

Two years later, my favorite bartender, Bob and I created what I called the Perfect Martini (he called it George’s Special). 2 and ½ ounces of Gin (Gordon’s) and ½ oz of Vodka (Smirnoff) chilled on ice in a glass shaker (until the shaker frosted over) and then gently stirred. A splash of Noillly Prat Dry Vermouth and a dash of Bols Orange Curacao were poured into an up glass. Then ice was placed into the glass to chill it. The ice and liquid were then disposed of and the Gin was then poured into the glass (using a Julep strainer) and was garnished with both an Olive (Queen Size sans pimento) and a twist of lemon (the zest flavored the rim of the glass).

About 6 years ago, with a young (23 or 24) enchanting female friend, I went to a Martini and Cigar Bar in Tampa, Florida. This place had a list of more than 30 different Martinis with only 3 or 4 made with Gin. Prices ranged from $9 to $24 for a Martini. The crowd was young; in fact the guy sitting next to me was in his late 30’s and probably the second oldest person in the Bar.

My companion ordered a Stoli Cosmopolitan with Grand Marnier instead of Cointreau.
(Aside: this drink was invented in an Annapolis, Maryland Bar and Restaurant named McGarvey’s, by a bartender named Bill, for McGarvey’s owner Mike Ashford and his good friend and sailing buddy Walter Cronkite).

Then I explained to the bartender how I wanted my Martini prepared. I was going to play the stump the young blonde bartender game. She smiled and said that the bar only carried top shelve Gins (I chose Bombay Sapphire), and only had Marie Brizard Curacao, they did however carry my Noilly Prat Dry Vermouth (as well as several other brands). I was impressed (with her knowledge and her cleavage) as I watched her make the second best Martini that I have ever had in my life. It was close to perfect.

Our check for two drinks was $32 (and this is in Florida, not New York City). I left the young lady bartender a $20 tip and thanked her for making my day.

The Beach Bum