Wow, I thought WE were dorky. I think this blog should go beat up the grammar blog and steal their martini money. Blog rumble!

I think the ersatz martini trend is just a marketing device to get young pups to to try expensive "cool sounding" drinks, in spite of the fact that many of them would have trouble drinking a real martini.

A similar device is the ersatz margherita. A "strawberry margherita" might be a refreshing drink on a hot day, but it's not a margherita.

I'll go put on my asbestos suit now...

I think one of the main reasons for the martini with vodka is the fact that gin has a very strong flavor and there just haven't been that many good gins. As a new generation of drinkers grew up with bars that had "mixologists" on staff, vodka became an important piece because of the fact that you can make a lot of drinks with vodka due to it's properties.

We're just now seeing a resurgence in gin as new ones like Hendrick's, DH Krahn, Bulldog, Bluecoat, and others all make people rethink what they believed to be something that only their grandmother would have with a lot of ice in it.

The martini is clear, comes in an easy-to-hold, sexy glass, and gives you an olive or a twist for a bit of flair. It's a classic style and design.

Okay, you're saying Mr. McIntyre is a hard-nosed, hard liquor swilling, (non-lit) cigar chomping newspaper man?

Mencken reincarnated.

Hal, you have never said anything with which I agree more. Martinis have been my poison of choice for more than 30 years. Gin, dry vermouth and a couple of olives. In the last five years I started hearing folks order some stuff that sounded like snowball flavors and I have no idea how they can be called martinis. Ersatz is the only way to describe them.

I admit it; I'm a Martini snob. (some would say "purist", but let's not mince words here.) And Mr. McIntyre is correct: pouring just any alcoholic concoction into a Martini glass does NOT make it a "Martini." (Fruit juice? Ugh. Chocolate?? Criminal.)

A Martini is gin, vermouth and ice. That's it. Period. I prefer it shaken and straight up with an olive (or oliveS), but I'd never criticize those who prefer it stirred, on the rocks, or with a twist.

Vodka and vermouth in a glass is a VODKA MARTINI... not a Martini.

If I ever ordered a Martini in a respectable tavern or restaurant and they made it with vodka (without asking first), I'd have to send it back with a stern warning to the barkeep.

Harsh, yes, but someone must try to keep civilization on an even keel and teach respect for tradition.

Hmm... I'm thirsty...

I like a vodka martini (gin gives me double vision) but I have to admit that I am a sucker for the flavored ones! I think Sex and the City started the whole flavored martini craze with the Cosmopolitan. My dad loves the pink drink and he's a total manly man!

Back when I was waiting tables, the bartender once told me a story of how he had to constantly remake a gin martini for a customer because he ordered it "Extra Dry", and the bartender put too much vermouth in.

The customer finally showed the bartender what he meant - he unscrewed the cap of the vermouth, and waved it over the top of the glass. EXTRA DRY. :)

And then there was Light... the Heavens opened up and Praise from above came showering down upon Hal and Flipkid for they spoke the Truth and there is only One Truth and they spoke it. For it is the meat and not the vessel that is the essence of Martini: gin, vermouth, and ice, garnished with a twist or olives or an onion but that's a Gibson. Imposter substances in martini glasses are apocryphal and smite-worthy. For if you filled Jesus' manger with candy-coated liquorice chews would it be the Son of God? No, it would just be Good 'N Plenty. Amen.

John continues to amaze with his correctness in all things. Though personally, I prefer mine filthy and up, we can at least agree on gin.

The customer finally showed the bartender what he meant - he unscrewed the cap of the vermouth, and waved it over the top of the glass. EXTRA DRY. :)

Ah, another of my pet peeves. That's not a martini, either. It's gin.

Kim,

Gin martinis fill your eyes with that double vision? No disguise for that double vision?

Jeez, EVERYbody knows a real martini is gin...even James Bond had to specify "Vodka Martini, shaken, not stirred." I never liked martinis but loved gin and bitters, til I realized that even a little bit of gin gave me massive headaches. Now booze just makes my eyes slam shut, but I do enjoy the very occasional dram of Laphroaig--neat, thanks, with a single ice cube.

On the flip side... I like cocktails. Meaning, I like Cosmopolitans, Manhattans and even the more fruity/chocolate/flavored as well. What makes me mad is that EVERYTHING is a martini nowadays. If I do out and I want a Mai Tai, I want it in a tall glass with a wedge of pineapple garnish (or equivalent) and an umbrella. Not poured into a martini glass.

If I want a Martini (Vodka, with 3 olives, thank you) I'll order a Vodka Martini!

Sam,

Yes, gin is DANGEROUS!

Oh, I knew someone would bring up Bond. Here's the dealio. In the novels Bond drinks his signature martini which is 1/3 gin, 1/3 vodka and 1/3 vermouth. That's a Bond Martini. It is surpisingly good. Really. Now, when the whores of Babylon on the Pacific (Hollywood, okay probably Pinewood Studios in England, but same idea) decided to make Bond movies they sold themselves for product placement and the faux-Russian English-made Smirnoff vodka martini was born. Did that start the Martini's fall from Grace? Maybe. As for shaking a martini? That is just vulgar and stupid. It breaks up the ice and you get little crystals in your drink. Not cool.

Mmmmmm, dry GIN Martini, up, with an olive. Yuck, Vodka, tastes like rotten potatoes. Flaovored vodka is worse, nothing worse than a raspberry flavored rotten potatoes.

Martinis are for people who have good balance. Whoever invented the martini glass never planned on people dirnking more than one.

I've always heard the official Bond Martini to be 3 parts vodka, 1 parts gin and 1/2 part lillet blanc.

It is possible that not everything I have heard in a bar is true.

Upon actual investigation the text from Casino Royale (!953) is:
"Just a moment. Three measures of Gordon's [gin], one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel. Got it?"

Got it. Whether that remains the same in later books, I don't know, but clearly gin is still the star here.

More field research needed. Thank GregB.

When you used to ask for a martini in the UK, you got Martini & Rossi, which is generally vermouth.

I saw some Germans get irate because they ordered a martini and received a martini at a TGI Fridays. It's only the most famous cocktail in the world probably. Haven't they ever seen NIck and Nora Charles drinking one? Silly Germans.

I don't think anyone has ever seen Nick and Nora Charles drink only one.

First of all, for anyone who cares a lick about the history of the American cocktail (and, thus, the cocktail itself), please pick up a copy of "Straight Up Or On The Rocks - The Story Of The American Cocktail" by William Grimes.

I'm not sure if it remains his occupation, but the title says he is the restaurant critic of the New York Times.

Extended excerpts from the book, sorry to go long but the author is kind of longwinded behind the history and I don't care to leave a detail behind in answering Ms. Large's query about the martini's conversion from gin to vodka:

"Moreover, the United States did not recognize the Soviet Union until 1933, so imports of Russian vodka stood at zero. Latvian or Polish vodka could be found in the ethnic neighborhoods of large cities, but to all intents and purposes, the spirit was a mystery.

In 1934, however, a Russian emigre named Rudolph Kunett (formerly Kunetchansky) approached the sons of the Russian distiller Pierre Smirnoff and bought the American rights to his name and distilling process. Then he started making vodka in Bethel, Connecticut. It was a small operation, producing a grand total of twenty cases a day. In 1939 a sharp-eyed executive from Heublein, John G. Martin, bought the entire business for $14,000.

The customers, as it happened, were all out West. Like so many American enthusiasms, Vodka started out as a California fad and then spread gradually to the rest of the country. Prompted by the "Smirnoff Leaves You Breathless" campaign (discussed elsewhere in the book) Americans discovered three things about vodka: it mixes with anything, it doesn't have a heavy liquor taste or smell, and it looks light and clean. Folk wisdom maintained that it would not inflict a hangover.

Vodka also had a cocktail gimmick behind it. In 1946 John Martin ran into a friend who owned a Los Angeles restaurant called the Cock 'n' Bull. The owner, who was English, had been trying to push imported ginger beer at the bar, with no success. Martin saw an opportunity to promote Smirnoff. He invented the Moscow Mule: vodka, ginger beer, and half a lime, served in a copper mug.

For the first time an invented cocktail was being used as a marketing device. The advertising executive who steered Smirnoff's campaign called the Moscow Mule "a Trojan horse" whose purpose was to introduce vodka to America. Heublein's salesman traveled from bar to bar, explaining the drink to bar managers and supplying Moscow Mule signs to be displayed on walls and mirrors. Legend has it that in 1947, Joan Crawford threw a party and decreed that only vodka and champagne be served. Her guests decided that the new drink was chic, and began serving it at their parties too. A countertheory holds that the film community latched onto vodka because it allowed them to drink on the set and elude the sharp eyes (and noses) of studio spies.

Vodka was on its way. Slowly but surely it spread from Los Angeles to San Diego and San Francisco. Then it rolled east, "From a potable rara avis, in the same class as usquebaugh and arrack," the New York Times reported in 1947, "it has become standard equipment in bars and cocktail lounges throughout the country." Even the conservative Oak Bar at the Plaza Hotel latched onto the fad, serving a Volga cocktail (vodka, orange juice, lemon juice and grenadine).

The real growth lay ahead, as vodka's ripple became a wave. From perhaps 40,000 cases in 1950, sales leaped to 1.1 million cases in 1954, then increased fourfold the following year, when the word "vodkatini" entered the language. In 1967 vodka eclipsed gin in popularity. Nine years later, over-taking whiskey, it became the leading spirit consumed in the United States. And so it remains today. Game, set, and match to the Russians.

JUMP

"Despite its commercial success, vodka has contributed very little to the cocktail. Insidiously, it has slipped in and offered itself as a tasteless substitute for gin. The gin and tonic became the vodka tonic. The Orange Blossom became the Screwdriver. Only old-timers recall that the gimlet was once a gin drink. And sometime in the 1970's, the martini -- yes, the martini -- became a vodka drink for most Americans.

As the classics underwent a vodka conversion, the rising generations discovered that vodka served its purposes ideally. Teenagers consume alcohol with the goal of getting drunk. The fewer obstacles in the way, the better, and acquired taste is an obstacle. As it happens, vodka by legal definition is "without distinctive character, aroma or taste." In other words, 86-proof nothing. With vodka, the cocktail shed all its complications overnight, becoming nothing more than a goosed-up fruit drink -- Hawaiian punch with sting."

Well done Brian. I love stuff like that. I think what people drink tells a lot about them. I had a professor in college who divided all Germans into wine drinkers, beer drinkers and schnapps drinkers (meaning strong spirits not some disgusting candy flavored monstrosity of today. Can you imagine if Hitler's buddies drank root beer scnapps? History may have been different). Anyway, he felt that national charcater was reflected or detemined by alcohol choice, I'm not sure which. The militaristic Prussians drank schanpps. The wine drinkers were, well, not very German I think in his mind. The Bavarians were beer drinkers. So he didvided Germany in his mind into warriors, Frenchy wine drinkers, and happy go lucky beer drinkers. And that's why Germany should never be reunited, because the whiskey drunks will lead the beer drinkers into war again. That's what I remember plus a bunch of stuff about logical positivism which sounded funny with his accent. Of course, that's all silly because it's not like drinkers of popular mass-marketed beers are sheep. Right?

I just love this blog. You never know what you're going to find. From the ridiculous to the sublime and back again.