Jason Wilson, at the Washington Post, is my cocktail crush. His columns consistently (and hilariously) maintain high standards and a belief in the perfectability of the physical world (in this case, you know, drinks) without plunging into pretentious gimickery like some hacks I could mention (PS: Dear American Airlines also was not very good!). In this week’s column he nimbly skewers both the Churchillian cult of the dry Martini
Does any cocktail invite more bloviation than the Very Dry Martini? Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know how you take your martini, Gramps: no vermouth. I should just whisper the word “vermouth” while I mix it? Never heard that one before!
And the sorority girl wannabe vodka “martini”
Which brings me to this animal called a vodka martini. I hate to break it to you, but there simply is no such thing. The martini certainly is more a broad concept than a specific recipe, but there must be two constants: gin and vermouth. Beyond correctness, vodka and vermouth are just a terrible match. So call that drink whatever you’d like, but please don’t call it a martini.
Without even stooping to touch on “Sour Apple Martinis” and their ilk. His brilliant combination of righteous anger and erudition, of course, appeals to me. And if you manage to make it through even one of these posts, it should appeal to you, too, so, damn it, why aren’t you reading it right now?