For many years, HG was an avid Martini drinker—after work at the cocktail hour or upon arrival home before dinner. HG had affectionate names for this potent (slightly lethal) beverage–“white lightning” or “icy steely.” Cocktail venue was Michael’s, a bar in Manhattan’s East 50’s. Customers were advertising industry men and women from the “Mad Men” era. Hard drinking folks. An extra dry Michael’s Martini was served in a dangerously huge goblet. The very strong drink led to many mishaps and misdemeanors. (Dorothy Parker put it this way: “One Martini. Two at most. Three Martinis. I’m under the host.”) At home HG followed a ritual. Pitcher and glasses in the freezer. Vodka or gin in the fridge. Pitcher was filled with ice. Alcohol poured with a slight trace of Noilly Prat dry vermouth. Quick robust stir. Then: Ice cold heaven. (No olives, tiny pickled onions or lemon peel. When offered at a bar, HG commented: “I didn’t order a salad.”)) BSK vigorously objected to HG’s Martini habit. BSK stressed the unpleasantness and dangers of falls and glassy eyed, thick tongued inebriation (Drunk? Hate that word.) So, sometime ago HG switched to Italian Negronis. HG’s Negroni is free form. Mix is a modest amount of bourbon or rye. Dry vermouth. Sweet vermouth. Campari. Lime or lemon juice. Served on the rocks. (The very best Negroni was served at a classy restaurant in Vancouver, B.C.’s W.Broadway.) Now, HG only has a Martini when the brilliant, effervescent Claudia Cragg is having one. A gentleman doesn’t let a lady drink a Martini alone
Oh my Gerry! Many thanks for the distinguished mention and honor. Let’s have another martini soon? With love to you both.
Darling Claudia: A chilled glass in the freezer is waiting for you. Your Admirer….