In defense of the boring Martini

Somewhere along the way the Martini became a personality test. Dirty, filthy, extra olives, a whisper of vermouth, shaken until the ice surrenders. People order it like they're negotiating a hostage release.

Here is the thing nobody wants to hear at a party: the boring one is better. Gin, vermouth, cold, stirred, lemon. It tastes like something an adult decided on purpose.

The vermouth is not the enemy. The vermouth is the entire point. If you want cold gin, order cold gin — it’s a fine drink and I will not judge you, out loud.

What I will judge is the open bottle of vermouth that has been sitting on your counter since the last administration. It is wine. It goes off. Put it in the fridge and stop blaming the recipe.