Martini Variations

Now that I have procured several bottles of bitters other than the ubiquitous Angostura, I have been able to experiment with old cocktails as they were a century ago.

These brands are Peychaud's aromatic bitters and Fee Brother's and Regan's orange bitters.

Peychaud's is a product of the Sazerac company and has a history that goes back to a Haitian druggist named Antoine Peychaud who invented a drink called the Sazerac. It is authentically bitter with some anise and black cherry. Very medicinal.

Regan's orange bitters, presumably made by Buffalo Trace, is an orange bitters that tastes strongly of cardamom, almost overwhelmingly so. The Fee Brother's bitters has a stronger taste of orange peel. Both work great in chicken soup, in case any Jewish mothers are reading this. Fee Brother's also makes mint, grapefruit, aromatic, lemon, peach, and barrel-aged bitters.

Because of these acquisitions, I made my first authentic Sazerac, and it was wonderful, as I have previously written. It was obviously time to move on to that quintessential cocktail: the martini.

"Quintessential" in this case means "controversial." The anecdote goes that two soldiers are parachuted into a forest. The first soldier notices that the second is carrying a cocktail glass, some gin and vermouth, and a shaker. He asks the second why he is carrying such equipment. "In case I get lost," says the second soldier, I can start making a martini, and someone will immediately show up and tell me 'That's no way to make a martini!'"

The controversy goes beyond the arguments between "wet" and "dry" and "perfect" martinis and how to chill them, shake or stir them, whether purists believe in a balance or Winston Churchill's glance-at-the-vermouth-bottle technique. You'd think that would be enough to fuel everlasting confusion.

But thanks to clever marketers for Smirnoff vodka and a Mr. James Bond, the term martini (and the classiness it is thought to represent) has ultimately come to mean just about any combination of ingredients. You have probably seen it at any number of restaurants. "Try our martinis!" the menu says. The only thing consistent among all these drinks is the cocktail glass they are served in now called a martini glass. It's a misnomer! The fact that every possible cocktail is now called a martini shows that people really want to be classy with their martinis but can't stomach the real thing, which can take some getting used to. The American vendor, as always, knows the customer is right. It's like calling all cars Rolls Royce: that way, we are all classy oligarchs or plutocrats or whatever.

Despite the controversy and my limited contribution to it, martinis can be highly personal drinks. I would list the drink's necessary restrictions as the following four ingredients:

1. gin
2. vermouth
3. orange bitters (if you can find them; hopefully they'll find their way back into the drink that is supposed to have them.)
4. ice

Proportions can be contentious too. Make it dry or wet, but don't tell me that a cocktail glass rinsed with vermouth and filled with cold gin is a martini. Gin is simply too powerful a flavor, and vermouth too soft, for there to be any possibility whatsoever that you could taste the vermouth in such a drink. It's called a "gin, up" because it's just gin. Vermouth is not the enemy of a martini; it is one of its defining ingredients.

I like these variations. I don't freeze the gin, because the ice will do that work, though I do freeze the glass. I also don't shake the thing, because it comes out cloudy and not just a little nasty looking.

The "Wet" Martini

• Combine and stir thoroughly
• 3 parts Bombay dry gin
• 1 part sweet vermouth
• 2 dashes orange bitters
• ice!
• strain into a chilled cocktail glass
• garnish with a lemon peel

The "Dry" Martini

• Combine and stir thoroughly
• 3 parts Plymouth gin
• 1 part dry vermouth
• 2 dashes orange bitters
• ice!
• strain into a chilled cocktail glass
• garnish with your iconic olive of choice

If you substitute an onion for the olive, you have a Gibson. If you make a drink with 1/2 part sweet vermouth and 1/2 part dry, you have yourself a Perfect Martini. If you substitute vodka for gin, you have a Kangaroo, not a Vodka Martini, unless you think you can also concoct a Vodka Daiquiri, a Vodka Manhattan, or a Vodka Margarita. Oh, and lessening the essential vermouth doesn't make a martini "drier," it makes it "gin." No matter how premium a gin is, you can't drink the shit straight up and call it a martini. Ever wonder why the word "dry" happens to modify the words "martini" or "manhattan" when "dry" vermouth is being used?