A sip in the glass and the rest in a little carafe, please – and make sure it’s ice-cold, otherwise it’s an absolutely degenerate drink
T
here is very little in life as elegant as the martini. You select vodka or gin. But really, you’re an adult, you select gin. A whisper of vermouth, then it’s chilled. A twist of lemon is added or an olive and her brine, then it’s served. And it’s served – we pray – with a sidecar.
All martinis should have sidecars. You know when you get a martini and there’s only a sip in the glass and the rest is in a little baby carafe sitting on ice? That’s a sidecar and it should be the law.
I love a martini. It’s simple. It’s strong. It’s very strong. To order a sweet cocktail is to infantalise yourself. Act your age and have something stiff and drink it slow. The martini has been around for 150 years, after all, so who am I to deny her? You become unstuck in time drinking a martini. You are honouring the great drinkers that came before you. You’re an intellect with a martini. You’re chic. You’re posh.
