My father, Bob Paddon, was center of so many classic stories and so many involved alcohol it is hard to decide which to include in these chronicles, but my man loved martinis. He only drank whiskey at home but whenever he went out, it was always a double martini on the rocks. Now my dad and good friend, Diego, had a true affection for one another, and that affection usually turned into drinking. We were all out with a fourth at our favorite Las Vegas restaurant. We had to wait for a table. We get a round of adult beverages. Diego must have tipped the bartender heavy, because my father’s usual double martini on the rocks came out in a double old fashioned glass filled to the rim. Our thirst was more powerful than service was speedy and our table still was not ready. Diego wound up feeding my dad three of these things. To Pop’s credit, he held it together pretty well even though the wine was flowing through dinner, but I knew it was time to leave when he started the same story three times inside of five minutes. The second he stood up the alcohol really hit him and things went down hill fast. Everyone got home safely and a good time was had by all.
The next day my father woke up angry with the restaurant. Now my father was generally a very jovial guy, but at the same time he could have some legendary meltdowns over nothing that could happen in the blink of an eye. They were more Yosemite Sam comical than Mel Gibson psychotic, but if you did not take him seriously when he went off on these tirades he would keep escalating, so as calmly as I could I tried to uncover what was his vexation. “I know what happened last night! It was that sauce!” In full disclosure I was at less than full capacity at this time of the day, so I started going through the options in my head. If I ask him, “What sauce?” that will just send him over the edge. He is not referring to the alcohol as sauce. What at dinner had a sauce on it? Why can’t he just admit that he had a half a bottle of gin and about another bottle of wine and just got looped? Sauce? What Sauce? Well that internal dialog had taken way too long and my non-response inflamed the old guy.
“You know the SAUCE! You know the SAUCE on my pork chop. It had those damn mushrooms in it. THAT’s what messed me up. Those damn mushrooms.” he exasperated with his arms flailing and the muscles of his forehead clinched in anger. I don’t know why I did anything but agree with him but in my confusion it just fell out of my mouth, “You mean the truffles?” Bad idea. That really sent him into rage. “YES. THOSE DAMN MUSHROOOOOOMMMMS. You know what they do to people. Those kids used to get messes up on them all the time out by the lake when you were growing up. That restaurant should not be giving people those mushrooms.” All I could do was nod yes. I wanted to laugh so bad but Pop would have come completely unravelled. I knew I could not form words without cracking myself up. I faked a cough and walked outside to try to get it together. My father went into the great beyond believing that truffles had some sort of potent intoxicating effect and gin was nothing but a glorious libation with no ill side effects. Maybe that’s the way it should be.
Like so many of the classics, the original ratios of ingredients in the Martini are barely recognizable from the modern day versions, or the sizes for that matter. How may places in the late 90’s had 9 or even 11 ounce martini glasses? If you could somehow consume 3 generously filled martini glasses that would come close to an entire bottle of alcohol. The 1947 Trader Vic’s Bartender’s Guide lists the Martini as 1 oz Gin and 1/2 oz French Vermouth. That is tiny by modern standards but the original martini was two parts gin and one part vermouth which is as shocking to modern day consumers as the Manhattan being 1 part Whisky and 1 part Sweet Vermouth. At least the Manhattan held onto its dignity somewhat, unlike the Martini that became a generic term to describe anything vodka based that was served in a cocktail glass. How many times have you seen a place advertising “Home of 300 Martinis” or some such nonsense? The martini is the name of this one drink listed below.
The classic martini truly leaves you nowhere to hide as a barman. You have to use outstanding gin, outstanding vermouth, and ice made with outstanding water.
Ingredients
2 oz London Dry Gin (In respect for Bob, Beefeater)
1 oz Dry Vermouth (Noilly Prat is excellent)
Garnish
Olive
Glassware
5 oz cocktail glass
Assembly
Chill cocktail glass. Fill Shaker with ice. Measure Gin, Vermouth and add to shaker. Stir to combine ingredients. Strain into cocktail glass and garnish.
Suggestions
Stir vs. shake. If you ask some bartenders, there is a hard and fast rule of stir cocktails that are made exclusively with alcoholic components and any cocktails with additives are shaken. Well here is the science part which does not quite agree with that philosophy. Vodka has a higher surface tension than gin, which means that when shaken vodka will keep an emulsion of air bubbles and gin will not. The air bubbles will give shaken vodka a more creamy mouthful and hide part of the alcoholic burn from receptors in your mouth. From another tact, the gin has lots of aromatics that have been lovingly put into the alcohol, where as vodka is relatively neutral. Shaking gin or vermouth will actually send a lot of those aromas into the air and not into the cocktail glass. So even when I do shake something with gin like an Aviation that should be a little frothy I only give it four back and forth shakes unlike some bartenders that look like they are playing maracas for Prince’s back up band. Always do whatever your customer asks of course, but otherwise use your own judgement from the ideas above but for a martini in this ratio, I would always stir unless requested otherwise by a guest.