Mourn the martini?

January 6, 2008

The word may not be dying, but its meaning is.

SL doesn’t get out much, but we graced a couple of parties last Yule, and to toast each occasion we ordered a martini.

Our first barman winked, which probably meant either Fine choice, sir! or I know that drink! Then he grabbed a rocks glass and into it poured an inch of liquid from the olive bin.

We were startled, but we suppressed a choke. Um, we said gently, could we get one without the juice? We finally worked the man down to gin on the rocks (he could not be trusted with Vermouth).

Another night, another publican, another try:

Not a dry one, you know? Put a little Vermouth in there if you would. She did, and liberally. But shame on us for not watching more closely. Back at table we discovered she had poured sweet Vermouth. You can go a lifetime without that, we assure you. SL at its post.

We are not a curmudgeon. We loathe Andy Rooney. But yet we require a martini now and then, and we expect a bartender to know the genuine article. Yes, even after a decade of chocolate, fruit, shrimp, sherbet, olive juice and other perversions. Possibly two decades (possibly we missed one).

The drink is clean and classic, so pay attention:

Gin and dry vermouth four to one, ice cold, straight up, olive.

You might wish to say it aloud. And one more thing: There’s no such thing as a vodka martini.


Can you say “very best”?

January 3, 2008

When you’ve got the best product, what should you do?


Purely by luck, we recently moved close to world-beating pizza.

Credentials statement: We’re not complete novices. We lived in Newark, where they still call it pizza pie. We worked in Manhattan and ate many a lunch on Carmine Street. We know the difference between Ray’s, Famous Ray’s, and Original Ray’s.

Tonight we called in an order to our local joint and happened to reach the owner. We chatted and happened to mention that his pizza was the best in town. He said Thank you, and we said You gotta capitalize on that, and he said, Okay, tell me how.

It’s an interesting question, and not just for a pizza parlor.

When you really are significantly better than your competition — the top, the tip, the championship — how do you turn that to profit?