You're a Dirty, Dirty Martini
Yes, that’s my martini kit. Yes, that’s a cupcake. No context will be given.
There was a time in America where a double martini lunch was acceptable. Kennedy was in office. Civil rights were at the forefront of our consciousness. It was OK to go get plastered mid-day and then go pat Christina Hendricks on her bottom. Last week, I got light headed from standing up too fast out of my office chair. I felt guilty and immediately reported myself. The experience, whilst not core shattering, caused me to pine for the good old days. I say bring back our martini lunches or dinners or breakfasts. I’m not here to judge. Incidentally, if anyone wishes to pat me on the bottom, I’m amendable.
After sampling dozens of martinis over a day’s course (really over a lifetime, I just desperately want to be cool or desperate) I’ve come to one all-encompassing conclusion: the martini is the middle-class everclear. As in, they will get you hammered and take your lunch money. People do not drink martinis to be sophisticated or because they taste like sunshine. Folks drink them because they are white lightening in a fancy glass.
A quick lesson - a jigger is a measurement of alcohol. It’s normally 1.5 fluid ounces. A shot glass runs anywhere from 1.5 to 2 ounces. I use the lid to my cocktail shaker for my measurements. I’ll use the word jigger interchangeably with “pour in some alcohol.”
- 2 jiggers gin
- 2 jiggers dry vermouth
- 2 kitchen tablespoons of olive juice
- 6 olives
You need to have a cocktail shaker. It is a required adult item. If you don’t have one, I’ll wait. Shoo now.
Welcome back. Fill your shaker ¾ the way up with non-crushed, non-crushed, non-crushed ice. Add olive juice, gin and vermouth. The amount is subjective. You make it to your tastes. Your gin to vermouth ratio is flexible. I prefer the 1:1 model because I’m fancy and classic. You can also try adding sweet vermouth, 2 jiggers gin, 1 jigger dry vermouth, 1 jigger sweet vermouth. In that case use a little lemon peel garnish and no olive anthing. If you do, you are more fancy than I am. Your doilies await. Shake. Pour over olives. I like a lot of olives, but one or two is standard. It’s like having a snack after your drink.
A dry martini has less vermouth. A dirty martini has olive juice. My martini keeps a box of old National Geographic magazines under the bed. That’s it. Easy. Welcome to being a grown up.
I must offer you a word of advice, though. You are not James Bond. Don’t get cute if you’re in a bar. Cut the bartender some slack, order either a gin or a vodka martini. Let them do the rest. If they have questions, they will ask them. Drink it, tip well, be happy.