“I must get out of these wet clothes and into a dry Martini” — Robert Benchley, 1935, on the sets of MGM’s China Seas .

The martini has wet many a thirsty celebrity throat, from Winston Churchill to FDR, Ernest Hemingway to WC Fields, and finally James Bond, who quite owned it! Each one of them had a very distinct preference in the way it was made.

The martini has long been considered the ultimate aperitif, the kingpin among cocktails. Someone once said that a martini is to the mixed drink what Rolls Royce is to the automobile, what Tiffany’s is to diamonds. He knew what he was talking about. It is also the only cocktail to have over a dozen books dedicated to its mysteries. The martini explosion coincided with the end of prohibition. This was the time of speakeasies. Where the rich and famous rubbed shoulders with gangsters. By the ’50s it became a symbol of corporate success. Men were back from the war and reclaiming their jobs from their women. Martini lunches became commonplace for stressed-out executives, succumbing to being pleasantly anaesthetised. That was also about the time that its popularity began to wane. It could never die — 007, amongst others, would ensure that. But decline it did.

The 90s suddenly saw a renewed interest in cocktails. Was it nostalgia for the best of the century as a new one approached? Whatever. And there was the martini — right up front. Back with a vengeance. Stylish, sexy, sensual, and with an attitude. Not just the classic. In myriad hues and flavours. Some brilliant, some ordinary, others an affront to this glorious drink.

Although the martini started out using sweet vermouth, it is the dry version that is drunk in copious quantities. How a dry martini should be mixed is almost a religion; very debatable. Hemingway made his with 15 parts gin to 1 of vermouth. Somerset Maugham acknowledged only Noilly Prat vermouth. Winston Churchill made his with Boodles gin and was happy if just a shadow of the vermouth bottle passed over his glass.

Gin is, of course, the mother of martini. Yet, over the years, vodka has slowly surpassed it in popularity.

Again, an expert will tell you that a martini is always stirred and never shaken, unless you happen to be James Bond. Shaking definitely makes for a colder cocktail but it also dilutes it and the drink loses its translucence.

I have a theory about Bond and his martinis. I idolised him growing up. Ian Fleming had got me hooked. Then bartending happened. I began to question the idol. On the other hand, writing him off as chicken was not an option. So I made up these excuses — he chose vodka as all of his targets were from behind the Iron Curtain. Maybe drinking their staple helped him get inside their heads. He asked for it shaken — did he not like the power of a stirred drink and preferred it diluted? Damn. But then he needed to fool his opponent into thinking he’d had enough while still maintaining equilibrium. I liked the man…

Games we play

There are two kinds of people who order a martini. Those in the know and the ones who are trying terribly hard to impress. We watch out for them all the time. How can you tell? Elementary. If you actually like a martini, it won’t last too long. They say a good martini should be cold to the point of brief and pleasurable anesthesia! A warm one is quite revolting. A glass that lingers then...

A serious drinker of this libation always wants to be sure the bartender actually understands the martini. He tends to be cautious, suspicious and sometimes a little supercilious too. One evening a very imposing English gentleman loftily asked me: “Hey Ms Bartender, can you actually make me a martini?”

I was sizing him too. He drinks a martini? Really? And so I asked, “Gin or vodka?” He stared back. “Shaken or stirred?” His eyes questioned my existence. “How dry do you like it?” “Bone dry m’dear,” said he.

I reached for the angled glass. Tinkled in the ice to frost. Shaker in hand. Loads of clean, frozen cubes. A generous slosh of iced gin. A whisper of extra-dry vermouth. A quick stir. Emptied the glass of the ice and shook it free of water. Strained in the ready drink. Speared three olives on the cocktail stick. Gently slid it in. Then just to get back at him, stuck in an umbrella too. He looked at it in horror. With the sweetest smile ever I offered it to him, saying, “Just to make sure it stayed totally dry, what with the weather…”

It’s a good way of figuring out people as you watch them. Observe their body language, catch that look. Watch for the subtle sarcasm in their conversation. And then breathe deeply, smile, and sock it to ’em. In the way only you can. The smart ones will appreciate it and accept defeat with a grin. The stupid will simply slink away…

Martini/Te amo

Glass: Martini

* 60ml gin/vodka

* Splash of extra-dry vermouth/ peach liqueur or syrup

* Garnish : green olives/almonds

Method :

1. Pack martini glass with ice. Remove ice just before drink is ready. Or pre-chill in refrigerator.

2. Fill 3/4 the shaker with ice cubes.

3. Pour in gin/vodka and vermouth/peach liqueur or syrup.

4. Stir (preferably) or shake (if you insist) and strain into the chilled glass.

5. Spear an olive or three onto a cocktail stick and dunk into drink (throw in two almonds in the peachy one).

6. Drink. Bliss.

( Shatbhi Basu is a mixologist, author, television host, and head of Stir , a bartending academy in Mumbai)

comment COMMENT NOW