"the perfect martini"

29 September, 00

Personally, I don't drink the damned things. There is just something so � unattractive about the violent gag reflex I suffer if I even take a sip. Consequently, I steer clear. Not even tempted. This aversion was only renforced during the that brief yet oh-so-irritating resurgence of popularity they enjoyed among upper-class wanna-be posers in the mid-90's.

But I can make you a proper martini. Up or on the rocks, olives or onions, I'm your girl. For you see, martinis, much like the morons who only drink them because they think it makes them look cool are painfully simple. A tiny bit of dry vermouth, ice, gin. Not tough. And with a little innate bartender's flair, you can make the preparation nice to watch by dropping in the miniscule portion of vermouth and deftly spinning it out of the glass before adding ice and gin. 'Deftly' meaning you don't drop the glass like a clumsy shit, so I rarely attempt it. So why, with a recipe so terribly simple, do most martini-drinkers insist on being so obtuse about their order? I find nothing so irritating, with the possible exception of the Jenny Jones show, as some old balding fart in a tweed jacket asking for martini "VERY DRY." Okay, a dry martini isn't what you might think. It is not EXTRA dry vermouth. No. Coutner-intuitively and keeping with the irritation level caused by the martini crowd, a dry martini leaves out the vermouth altogether. So why in the hell not just order GIN ON THE ROCKS, because that my friend is precisely what you're getting. Why? Why do they insist on being so self-important? James Bond. That's why. Becaues James freaking Bond, nor, we can assume, anyone else of equal character and breeding, would ever order gin on the rocks. Gin on the rocks is not James-Bond worthy. It's the sort of drink your alcoholic uncle Charley would order. "Hey kid, what's the cheapest shot you got? Gin? Fine. On the rocks." So while I can see why Tweed Jacket would choose the former category over the latter, it's still annoying. "I have met James Bond, and you, sir, are no James Bond."

But Tweed Jacket and his ilk are forgiven with sincerest thanks the very first time you meet Clever Guy. Clever Guy is giong to piss you off every single time he opens his mouth, and sometimes even when it is closed. Clever Guy is Tweed Jacket in show-off mode. Ugh. Clever Guy orders a martini "VERY DRY." But something spurs him on. He can't stop here. He must make the "Clever Remark." "Now, I want that VERY DRY little lady." (I will make him pay for the "little lady" comment soon, have no fear.) "I mean, just wave the vermouth bottle over the martini glass." At this point Clever Remarks are on hold while he laughs at his own stupid joke. "No, no, just let the martini glass get a look at the vermouth bottle! That's all!" Oh he's howling now. I stopped listening about five minutes ago. I'm concentrating too hard on the lugie I'm working up for his precious VERY DRY martini.

The moral of the story? For those of you who drink the martinis because you like them (Chris, this means you), just drink them. For those of you who drink them to look cool, it's not working. And the addition of supposedly Clever Remarks only serve to anger your bartend. And a bartender's anger will float to the top of that martini sooner or later �