Making martinis at home is a pleasure that’s distinct from drinking them in the world. Restaurants and bars tend to stock only a handful of widely distributed gins, with maybe one or two boutique gins in the mix to support local distillers. Few among those will be the London dry-style gins, brisk with forward notes of juniper and citrus, that I prefer for a dry martini.
For the home bar, I start with a trip to an independent Los Angeles-area wine and liquor store (Bar Keeper in Silver Lake, K&L Wine Merchants in Hollywood and the Wine House in West L.A. are three favorites) and a conversation with a knowledgeable staffer. It’s how I came to know a gin like No. 3, clear and spicy and always the emptiest bottle in my cabinet.
Vermouth — the alto to gin’s soprano — varies in potency depending on the maker. In a martini, I advocate for the dry subtler character of Dolin blanc.
I also champion the merest presence of orange bitters in martinis, an addition with historic context that’s largely fallen out of fashion. The bright sweetness adds a pheromone-level mystery to the flavor and cuts the initial, crucial sharpness.
Making martinis at home is a pleasure that’s distinct from drinking them in the world. Restaurants and bars tend to stock only a handful of widely distributed gins, with maybe one or two boutique gins in the mix to support local distillers. Few among those will be the London dry-style gins, brisk with forward notes of juniper and citrus, that I prefer for a dry martini.
For the home bar, I start with a trip to an independent Los Angeles-area wine and liquor store (Bar Keeper in Silver Lake, K&L Wine Merchants in Hollywood and the Wine House in West L.A. are three favorites) and a conversation with a knowledgeable staffer. It’s how I came to know a gin like No. 3, clear and spicy and always the emptiest bottle in my cabinet.
Vermouth — the alto to gin’s soprano — varies in potency depending on the maker. In a martini, I advocate for the dry subtler character of Dolin blanc.
I also champion the merest presence of orange bitters in martinis, an addition with historic context that’s largely fallen out of fashion. The bright sweetness adds a pheromone-level mystery to the flavor and cuts the initial, crucial sharpness.
Making martinis at home is a pleasure that’s distinct from drinking them in the world. Restaurants and bars tend to stock only a handful of widely distributed gins, with maybe one or two boutique gins in the mix to support local distillers. Few among those will be the London dry-style gins, brisk with forward notes of juniper and citrus, that I prefer for a dry martini.
For the home bar, I start with a trip to an independent Los Angeles-area wine and liquor store (Bar Keeper in Silver Lake, K&L Wine Merchants in Hollywood and the Wine House in West L.A. are three favorites) and a conversation with a knowledgeable staffer. It’s how I came to know a gin like No. 3, clear and spicy and always the emptiest bottle in my cabinet.
Vermouth — the alto to gin’s soprano — varies in potency depending on the maker. In a martini, I advocate for the dry subtler character of Dolin blanc.
I also champion the merest presence of orange bitters in martinis, an addition with historic context that’s largely fallen out of fashion. The bright sweetness adds a pheromone-level mystery to the flavor and cuts the initial, crucial sharpness.
Making martinis at home is a pleasure that’s distinct from drinking them in the world. Restaurants and bars tend to stock only a handful of widely distributed gins, with maybe one or two boutique gins in the mix to support local distillers. Few among those will be the London dry-style gins, brisk with forward notes of juniper and citrus, that I prefer for a dry martini.
For the home bar, I start with a trip to an independent Los Angeles-area wine and liquor store (Bar Keeper in Silver Lake, K&L Wine Merchants in Hollywood and the Wine House in West L.A. are three favorites) and a conversation with a knowledgeable staffer. It’s how I came to know a gin like No. 3, clear and spicy and always the emptiest bottle in my cabinet.
Vermouth — the alto to gin’s soprano — varies in potency depending on the maker. In a martini, I advocate for the dry subtler character of Dolin blanc.
I also champion the merest presence of orange bitters in martinis, an addition with historic context that’s largely fallen out of fashion. The bright sweetness adds a pheromone-level mystery to the flavor and cuts the initial, crucial sharpness.
Making martinis at home is a pleasure that’s distinct from drinking them in the world. Restaurants and bars tend to stock only a handful of widely distributed gins, with maybe one or two boutique gins in the mix to support local distillers. Few among those will be the London dry-style gins, brisk with forward notes of juniper and citrus, that I prefer for a dry martini.
For the home bar, I start with a trip to an independent Los Angeles-area wine and liquor store (Bar Keeper in Silver Lake, K&L Wine Merchants in Hollywood and the Wine House in West L.A. are three favorites) and a conversation with a knowledgeable staffer. It’s how I came to know a gin like No. 3, clear and spicy and always the emptiest bottle in my cabinet.
Vermouth — the alto to gin’s soprano — varies in potency depending on the maker. In a martini, I advocate for the dry subtler character of Dolin blanc.
I also champion the merest presence of orange bitters in martinis, an addition with historic context that’s largely fallen out of fashion. The bright sweetness adds a pheromone-level mystery to the flavor and cuts the initial, crucial sharpness.
Making martinis at home is a pleasure that’s distinct from drinking them in the world. Restaurants and bars tend to stock only a handful of widely distributed gins, with maybe one or two boutique gins in the mix to support local distillers. Few among those will be the London dry-style gins, brisk with forward notes of juniper and citrus, that I prefer for a dry martini.
For the home bar, I start with a trip to an independent Los Angeles-area wine and liquor store (Bar Keeper in Silver Lake, K&L Wine Merchants in Hollywood and the Wine House in West L.A. are three favorites) and a conversation with a knowledgeable staffer. It’s how I came to know a gin like No. 3, clear and spicy and always the emptiest bottle in my cabinet.
Vermouth — the alto to gin’s soprano — varies in potency depending on the maker. In a martini, I advocate for the dry subtler character of Dolin blanc.
I also champion the merest presence of orange bitters in martinis, an addition with historic context that’s largely fallen out of fashion. The bright sweetness adds a pheromone-level mystery to the flavor and cuts the initial, crucial sharpness.
Making martinis at home is a pleasure that’s distinct from drinking them in the world. Restaurants and bars tend to stock only a handful of widely distributed gins, with maybe one or two boutique gins in the mix to support local distillers. Few among those will be the London dry-style gins, brisk with forward notes of juniper and citrus, that I prefer for a dry martini.
For the home bar, I start with a trip to an independent Los Angeles-area wine and liquor store (Bar Keeper in Silver Lake, K&L Wine Merchants in Hollywood and the Wine House in West L.A. are three favorites) and a conversation with a knowledgeable staffer. It’s how I came to know a gin like No. 3, clear and spicy and always the emptiest bottle in my cabinet.
Vermouth — the alto to gin’s soprano — varies in potency depending on the maker. In a martini, I advocate for the dry subtler character of Dolin blanc.
I also champion the merest presence of orange bitters in martinis, an addition with historic context that’s largely fallen out of fashion. The bright sweetness adds a pheromone-level mystery to the flavor and cuts the initial, crucial sharpness.
Making martinis at home is a pleasure that’s distinct from drinking them in the world. Restaurants and bars tend to stock only a handful of widely distributed gins, with maybe one or two boutique gins in the mix to support local distillers. Few among those will be the London dry-style gins, brisk with forward notes of juniper and citrus, that I prefer for a dry martini.
For the home bar, I start with a trip to an independent Los Angeles-area wine and liquor store (Bar Keeper in Silver Lake, K&L Wine Merchants in Hollywood and the Wine House in West L.A. are three favorites) and a conversation with a knowledgeable staffer. It’s how I came to know a gin like No. 3, clear and spicy and always the emptiest bottle in my cabinet.
Vermouth — the alto to gin’s soprano — varies in potency depending on the maker. In a martini, I advocate for the dry subtler character of Dolin blanc.
I also champion the merest presence of orange bitters in martinis, an addition with historic context that’s largely fallen out of fashion. The bright sweetness adds a pheromone-level mystery to the flavor and cuts the initial, crucial sharpness.
