Because We Remember COVID: The Martini

By Evan Stoner ’96 and Danielle Logan ’96

Alright, we’re closing in on our 30th reunion, and we somehow never got around to this one before, so let’s tackle the Martini. But first…indulge me in a reminiscence, of simpler, stupider times.

I myself mixed my very first Martini at Carleton, sophomore year, in the company of the lovely Rebecca Dobosh. It was a Saturday afternoon in winter, and we were bored, and we somehow started talking about Martinis and wondered what exactly the hell they were. I consulted some cheap paperback book of drink recipes, and found that it was gin and vermouth.

We didn’t really know what vermouth was, but we were dedicated to our educations and the liberal arts mindset. So Becca and I walked to the Muni in the spirit of discovery, and things immediately started to go wrong, because I did not know *anything* about *anything.*

The first problem was that I didn’t know the difference between sweet and dry vermouth. The second problem was that I didn’t want to ask any stupid questions, because I was 19 and in a liquor store. So I just grabbed the first bottle at hand–and of course, it was sweet.

Then, when we got back to my room, I didn’t have any actual bartender tools, so I free-poured gin and sweet vermouth into a salad-bowl-sized Tupperware. I added about three ice cubes from our mini-fridge, sealed the plastic lid, and shook the mess around four or five times while sitting on the floor.

I felt less refined than I had imagined.

Then, I sloppily poured the drinks, with a few ice cubes still floating in them, into a couple of red Solo cups, and dropped in one olive apiece.

I can still picture the look on Becca’s face when she took a sip of the red, tepid, slightly frothy cocktail, and hesitantly said, “this seems…wrong?” And indeed it was wrong. As wrong as it is theoretically possible to be when making a three-ingredient drink.

So please keep in mind that, no matter how poorly you make your Martini, no matter how weird your tastes are when it comes to this drink, your Martini will be objectively better than the first one I made.

Here’s the problem: most everybody who drinks Martinis has their own extremely specific preferences for how they like ’em. Not only that, they have strong judgments about other people’s preferences. It’s a cocktail that brings out people’s innate pedantry. I suppose half the fun is arguing about whose tastes are correct.

Martinis: They’re For Haters. But in a nice way?
The reason this drink gets so complicated is that the options available to you include, but are not limited to, the following:

  • Gin or vodka (or literally anything else, if it’s the 90’s and choco-tinis are fair game)
  • If gin, the type thereof (London Dry, Old Tom, Plymouth, etc)
  • Dry or extra-dry vermouth
  • The ratio of spirit to vermouth; circa 1900 this might have been 1:1 for even a “dry” Martini.
    These days, a dry Martini might be 6:1 or even higher.
  • Orange bitters.
  • Olives, onions, or lemon peel.
  • Olive brine for a “dirty” Martini.
  • The serving glass.

That’s a lot of permutations. My entirely unreliable napkin math says it’s at least 1500. And your selections from that list say something about how you perceive the world, and how the world perceives you. For example, if you order:

“A Dry Martini”: You think sweet things are childish. Or, you like sweet things but don’t want people to think you’re childish.

“A Martini”: You’re 21, on a family trip to a steakhouse, and trying to fake it. Or, you’re 51 and don’t trust your bartender.

“A bone-dry Martini, merely glance in the direction of the vermouth”: You enjoy participating in a century-long game of ritual one-upsmanship that has been played by Hemingway and Gable, among others. Your weary bartender hands you a bottle of gin and a straw.

“A Vodka Martini”: You just want your drink very cold and clean. Gin enthusiasts won’t say anything, but they have irrevocably judged you to be a person of poor character.

“Vodka Martini, shaken, not stirred”: I didn’t recognize you in those cargo shorts, Mr. Bond. Here is your weird cloudy flavorless beverage. Goodness, your card has been declined.

“Can you do a Wondrich Martini? No? Let me show you–“: Evan, this is a Wendy’s.

This is my favorite Martini. The recipe is special in a couple of ways. The first is that it calls for navy strength gin, which is significantly stronger than standard gin–57% alcohol, rather than 40%. The second is that it uses a larger proportion of vermouth than most modern recipes do.

The magic here is that the stronger gin stands up to that extra vermouth really well, so you get a subtle sweetness and good vermouth flavor, but also a pleasant bite from the less-dilute liquor. Plymouth in particular has a nice soft round quality that is welcome in a high-proof situation like this.

David Wondrich’s Dry Martini

  • 1 3/4 oz navy strength gin (Plymouth or Hayman’s Royal Dock)
  • 1 1/4 oz dry vermouth (Dolin or Noilly Prat)
  • 2 dashes orange bitters (Bitter Truth or Regan’s)
  • lemon twist

Add all liquid ingredients to a mixing glass, and stir for 25 seconds with ice. Strain into coupe or Martini glass. Express the lemon twist over the top of the drink, and discard the twist

Of course, because I’m as much of a snowflake jerk as anybody else, I’d probably throw in an olive or three. Thanks for reading all this, and I hope you have a nice drink. Now over to Danielle, who is going to take on the much harder task of attempting a virgin Martini!

Well hello friends. When Evan told me we were making martinis, a drink made up entirely of alcohol, my first thought was “What the absolute f*ck, Evan.” My second thought was, “I have never had a martini.” Which was not quite the truth. My husband, Brendan (also class of ’96) likes to drink his glass of cold gin with a breath of scotch instead of vermouth. I have tried that. And then washed my tongue under running water while wondering why on earth anyone would possibly put that into their mouth. Absolutely disgusting. But hey, Evan doesn’t usually steer me wrong, so I thought I’d try it his way so that I knew what I was trying to live up to in the mocktail.

I should mention that I love vermouth so his near 50/50 ratio made this martini a complete winner in my book. Brendan questions whether this is actually a martini, but scroll up and re-read Evan’s comment about bone-dry Martini drinkers. Moving on.

There are a number of spirit-free alternatives these days, far more than in the “old Covid times”. Choose your favorite, but we used Lyre’s London Spirit non-alcoholic gin and Roots Divino 0% vermouth.

The Non-Alcoholic Dry Martini

  • 1 3/4 oz non-alcoholic gin
  • 1 1/4 oz non-alcoholic vermouth
  • 2 drops orange or lemon oil lemon twist

Fill a shaker halfway with ice. Add the spiritless gin, alcohol-free wine variant, and the orange or lemon oil. Stir with ice and strain into a martini glass. Express the lemon twist over the top of the drink.

The Non-Alcoholic Dry Martini

Now, take your martini glass over to the nearby sink and POUR IT DOWN THE DRAIN because this drink is absolutely disgusting. The internet tells me that NA Tanqueray has a decent gin flavor, but it’s also really difficult to find. For you, dear readers, I paid to get a bottle shipped to me from England but it’s been almost a month and it still hasn’t cleared customs. Apparently new tariffs were implemented and… oh wait, no, let’s not go there.

As much as I make fun of my better half, he was very kind as I decimated our spice collection and forced him to taste multiple versions of the base syrup for our new mocktail. I’m going to give you the version of this recipe that we ended up jointly agreeing was the best version that both of us would drink, but just know that I made multiple versions using a variety of ingredients. My personal favorite included coriander, ginger, and star anise. Brendan had to wash that taste out of his mouth with some Beefeater. Please experiment based on what you like.

Juniper Simple Syrup

  • 1 cup sugar
  • 1 cup water
  • 2 tablespoons juniper berries
  • 1 tablespoon whole cardamom pods
  • Peel from one entire orange

Lightly crush the juniper berries and cardamom pods. Stir all ingredients together in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring until the sugar dissolves. Remove from heat. Let cool completely. Pour through a sieve into a bowl; discard solids. Refrigerate in an airtight container.

At this point, Brendan and I did a little more experimentation. You can make an okay mocktail with just the syrup and some lemon. It’s definitely not a martini, but it is an adult beverage. Pushing this drink in the direction of a dirty martini made it a delicious adult beverage. I highly recommend adding brine to the drink. I loved the olive brine, Brendan liked the hint of dill and stronger sour of the pickle brine.

NA Dirty Martini

  • 1 oz juniper simple syrup
  • .5 oz lemon juice
  • .25 oz olive or pickle brine
  • 4 oz club soda or plain water
  • Lemon twist

Fill a shaker halfway with ice. Add the simple syrup, lemon juice, and olive brine. Shake for 30 seconds. Open the shaker and add the club soda or water. Stir gently. Put the top back on and strain into a martini glass. Garnish with the lemon peel or an olive or a pickle. You do you.

NA Dirty Martini Ingredients

In Covid times, Siobhan would also taste our mocktail and provide her thoughts. Unlike Evan’s Elspeth who CHOSE WISELY, Siobhan elected to spend her four years at an inferior school in the upper Midwest. No, not that one, a different one. But it still makes her unavailable for tasting. I could delude myself into thinking she would like this, but she absolutely would not. So in the spirit of our old column (and in the off chance that we actually make these drinks at reunion), here is your bonus recipe for a tiki mocktail that would get her stamp of approval.

Tiki Cooler

  • 6 ounces pineapple juice
  • 6 ounces coconut milk
  • 3 ounces lime juice
  • 2 tablespoons almond syrup (such as Torani®)
  • 1 cup club soda
  • 4 pinches ground nutmeg
  • 4 lime wheels

Place a few ice cubes in a pitcher; add pineapple juice, coconut milk, lime juice, and almond-flavored syrup and stir until chilled. Strain mixture and pour into 4 glasses. Top each glass with club soda; mocktail will foam up.

Dust each mocktail with nutmeg. Garnish with a lime wheel, sprig of mint, and umbrella.

Tiki Cooler Drink