“I want it dirty… I mean really, really dirty!”

It always brings a smile to his face when your friendly bartender hears, “I’ll have a Grey Goose martini but I want it dirty… I mean really, really dirty!” because she says it with an almost feline growl and a facial expression last seen on Salome while twirling her considerable assets around King Herod. Because what she’s really, really saying of course when she lays on the words really, really is, “I’m really, really, really being naughty!”

But the irony of this whole scenario doth speak… the dirtier the martini the weaker the drink and the less naughty “dirty girl” is probably going to be. For it doesn’t take a chemist to tell you that the more olive juice you darken the glass with the less you have of the stuff that makes you naughty. So to carry this logic to its “nth-est” degree… I could make you a downright filthy martini but all you’d be drinking is something best served on a salad.

Ah, but once the drink has been served and the smile from those thoughts leave his face, your friendly bartender becomes saddened for a moment… not just because our “dirty girl” makes him feel like Humbert Humbert to her Lolita (she’s terribly young and I’m terribly not) but because of the bigger picture out there… the demise of the sacred martini.

Once revered as a work of art in the best tradition of collegial and civilized imbibery,  whose only variations were “wet or dry”, “shaken or stirred”, “twist or olive”, “on the rocks or straight up”, it has now become chilled Snapple for adults. There are so many fucking concoctions out there (apple, chocolate and orange to name just three of probably hundreds) that the word martini no longer has any meaning. It’s just a designate at the end of the order announcing, ” I’m drinking out of one of those grown-up glasses Bogart used to hoist.” But it’s an insult to that very vessel as I see it… like pouring raspberry Kool-Aid into Grandma’s good crystal. Like furnishing a Tudor estate with Pier One Imports.

And one more thing while I’m at it, (from a pain-in-the-ass perspective), your friendly bartender is tempted to charge in addition to ten for the drink, five extra bucks for fucking labor. Why? Because some of these tropical olio’s involve five or six pours, three or four moves and a back flip in pike fucking position. Just what your Un-friendly bartender needs when it’s two deep at the mahogany and he can’t catch up.

So I guess what I’m really saying is… if “dirty girl” didn’t look so damned adorable when she asks me to, “make it really, really dirty,” I’d think about hanging a sign outside saying NO FAKE MARTINIS!

15 Responses to ““I want it dirty… I mean really, really dirty!””


  1. 1 Isis the Scientist November 17, 2008 at 2:57 pm

    You know, Scribbler, Dr. Isis was your biggest advocate (even going so far as to mention your new digs here), but then you had to go and write this crap. While Dr. Isis does not officially advocate the drinking of bastardized or fruity martinis, and she will drink a classic vodka martini with the best of them, she has been known to order the “dirty martini” when attempting to send a clear message to the person she is with.

    And, to make up for the dilution of the spirits, I’ll simply drink twice as many.

    But now that I know you hold me in disdain….

  2. 2 scribbler50 November 17, 2008 at 3:44 pm

    Dr. Isis:
    Sorry to lose ya’ before I even knew ya’ and for the record I don’t hold you in disdain. The “rant” part of my critique was less about the Dirty Martini than it was all those multi-colored foo-faroos. But take heart in your revenge, you are the author of my very first… I don’t want to call it hate mail so let’s say dislike mail!
    Scribbler

  3. 3 Comrade PhysioProf November 17, 2008 at 6:36 pm

    Vodka is for teenagers. Adults drink gin.

  4. 4 Isis the Scientist November 17, 2008 at 7:18 pm

    Dr. Isis:
    Sorry to lose ya’ before I even knew ya’ and for the record I don’t hold you in disdain. The “rant” part of my critique was less about the Dirty Martini than it was all those multi-colored foo-faroos. But take heart in your revenge, you are the author of my very first… I don’t want to call it hate mail so let’s say dislike mail!
    Scribbler

    Dr. Isis takes great pleasure in being a man’s first. I am sure that my wounded pride will heal with time, or with a few dirty martinis and the ensuing aftermath.

    And Dr. Isis will not validate PhysioProf’s apparent lunacy with comment.

  5. 5 Jim November 17, 2008 at 10:52 pm

    Preach it Brother Scribbler! There are a couple of simple rules – If you can’t see through it, it ain’t a Martini. And while I don’t personally abide by the vodka version, if the drink order doesn’t start with vodka or gin, it ain’t a “Martini”. There is no such thing as a chocolate “Martini” or an espresso “Martini”, those are cocktails served in martini glasses.

    It does beg the question – What’s your personal favorite recipe…

  6. 6 GooseNYC November 17, 2008 at 11:43 pm

    Note to self – next time Scribbler is behind the bar I am ordering a very very clean martini. However the “back flip in pike fucking position” is always fun to watch.

    Can’t wait for the next installment!!!

  7. 7 greatestwirefan November 17, 2008 at 11:46 pm

    You scored with a winning blog, my friend. Keep up the good work!

  8. 8 scribbler50 November 18, 2008 at 12:53 am

    Jim:
    “It does beg the question – what’s your personal favorite recipe…”

    As far as the foo-faroos go (or as you so deftly put it… those drinks you can’t see through) the question is self defeating, there can’t be a favorite. That’s like asking which would you prefer… a sprained ankle or wrist or a pulled hamstring. But as for that which I can see through, it’s the classic Beefeather’s, dry, stirred, straight up. There’s no mystery to the recipe, it’s in the execution.

  9. 9 Jim November 18, 2008 at 4:33 am

    Sorry to have confused – I was asking for your real Martini recipe!

    Personally – A little Vermouth in the shaker. Shake then pour out Vermouth. Hendricks. Shake. Finish with olives. Or a nice summer variation is Cascadia Gin from Oregon instead of the Hendricks, finish with a twist. It’s nice and floral, very refreshing…

  10. 10 White Trash Academic November 18, 2008 at 1:11 pm

    Although not the norm, WTA has been guilty in the past of ordering such a drink in order to “see if I’m missing anything.” Scribbler should be happy to hear that I will never order one of these drinks again 🙂

  11. 11 Comrade PhysioProf November 18, 2008 at 11:51 pm

    Hendrick’s is great, although some find the cucumber overpowering. I haven’t heard of this Oregon shit, but I have had Junipero, distilled in Cali by Anchor Steam Brewing Company.

  12. 12 Alex November 20, 2008 at 1:02 pm

    You are sooooo right, not to mention the fact all of us bartenders are running out of olive brine. It’s a shame, in the old days we could have just emptied some ashes from the ash tray. Right on, brother….

  13. 13 bikemonkey November 20, 2008 at 6:43 pm

    since you mention Oregonnie….

    one of my old peeps sent out a spam message along the lines of “dude, I’m running a vanity distillery in Oregon’s burgeoning vanity-distillery industry…order my fucking vodka stat”.

    wtf? is this mini industry old hat? anyone?

  14. 14 Abel Pharmboy November 23, 2008 at 2:06 pm

    bike, local distilleries have been popping up all over – instead of cheap moonshine like we have in the South, these boutique distilleries put out their offerings at a high premium. My view is that it’s an outgrowth of the craft brewing and local food movements.

    My favorite is George Stranahan’s Colorado Whiskey, named after the minority owner, founder of Flying Dog Brewery, friend of Hunter S Thompson, photographer, writer, and genuinely cool dude. The story is a good one, with the idea dreamed up by Stranahan and a volunteer firefighter who tried, unsuccessfully, to save Stranahan’s barn afire.

    The firefighter, Jess Graber, had spent 30 years of home-distilling – they now make the small batch nectar from a variety of northern Rockies barley next to the Flying Dog Brewery in downtown Denver. Here’s a photo of the process on a whiteboard from Teri Fahrendorf’s Road Brewer blog.

  15. 15 bikemonkey November 28, 2008 at 9:59 pm

    respectability for moonshiners then. gotcha!


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