My introduction to my favorite spirit, gin, came almost 35 years ago at The Sire, a smoky red-leather dive bar in Riverside, Calif., where my soon-to-be father-in-law took Chef Sin and me for what he claimed was Southern California’s best hamburger.
Part of what made it the best, he insisted, was the burger’s mandatory accompaniment: a couple of Martinis. On the rocks.
He was right. To this day, our favorite burger is prepared Sire style: medium rare with only a slice of sweet onion and a schmear of mayo on a toasted bun, with Lay’s potato chips and a refrigerated dill pickle spear on the side. And a Martini on the Rocks.
It’s just about the only time I have a Martini that’s not served straight up in a stemmed glass. And as I’ve learned, some master mixologists don’t even consider anything presented over ice to be a Martini.
Dale DeGroff’s classic The Craft of the Cocktail devotes 10 full pages to Martinis in various guises, not one of which is on the rocks. Gary Regan’s authoritative The Joy of Mixology doesn’t even acknowledge that such a drink exists. Shaken Not Stirred: A Celebration of the Martini by Anistatia R. Miller and Jared M. Brown sums up the rocks version of the drink in a mere two sentences, while Robert Simonson’s The Martini Cocktail includes a recipe but dismisses the Martini on the Rocks as “a lazy person’s Martini.”
Of course, what’s profane to the cocktail cognoscenti is pro forma for us commoners.
“I would say 40 to 50 percent of the time, (our customers) ask for Martinis on the rocks,” Mike Holmes of the Wickman House in Ellison Bay, Wisc., told Simonson in an article for Punch. Partly, Simonson notes, it’s a “generational thing”: The rocks version of the Martini first gained favor among my father-in-law’s generation during the 1940s and 1950s before fading out, probably due, I think, to the influence of coupe and Art Deco glasses in the hands of James Bond, the Rat Pack, and other celebrity Martini drinkers.
But most things retro seem to be reborn. And some libation experts are coming around to the Martini on the Rocks as a legitimate drink.
“There’s No Wrong Way to Drink a Martini,” declares Kara Newman in Wine Enthusiast magazine, noting that in a Martini on the Rocks, “the ice keeps everything cold and also dilutes the drink as it melts, ideal for those who find ‘up’ Martinis too potent.”
“Just Build Your Martini on the Rocks,” advises Lifehacker‘s Claire Lower, who points out that this version is “just easier to make. You don’t have to mess with a stirring glass and you don’t have to worry about nailing that perfect dilution point.”
On her blog The Boozy Bungalow, Emily Farris pronounces the Rocks-style her all-time favorite Martini, although she prefers hers with cocktail onions instead of olives, which technically makes it a Gibson. “And because I give zero fucks about rules,” she adds, “it also gets a few aggressive dashes of orange bitters … and I usually end up eating about nine to 13 onions per drink consumed.”
Even a purist like The Martini Socialist of the U.K. concedes that a Martini on the Rocks “does not taste as whole-heartedly appalling as it might sound to a die-hard Martini fan. It was somewhat refreshing, if an ultimate disappointment when compared to the real deal.”
My socialist friend does make one important point: “A Martini made with gin from the freezer has an almost irreplaceable texture—like cold, almost crystallised oil.” Actually, this is crucial no matter how you make it—shaken, stirred, rocks, or the epic Ten-Minute Martini™. And if you keep your vermouth in the refrigerator—and you must; it is basically white wine and will turn on you if left at room temp too long after opening—then all your ingredients will be cold going into the glass and less likely to be diluted by the ice.
Larger ice cubes will melt more slowly than smaller cubes or crushed ice. Giant cubes and spheres, big enough for one to fill an Old Fashioned or rocks glass, are especially good at keeping your Martini cold without watering down the contents.
Finally, as with any Martini, your choice of gin is key. London Dry, New Western, Old Tom, Genever—each has a unique flavor profile, and differences between brands are huge. Even the vermouth is a variable: Give me Noilly Pratt first, Dolin in a pinch, and Martini & Rossi never.
And don’t forget the burger. Sire style.
Martini on the Rocks
Bottle of gin (we prefer Plymouth), kept in the freezer
Bottle of dry vermouth, kept in the refrigerator
Queen olives for garnish
Fill a rocks glass with ice to the rim. Drizzle a bit of vermouth over the ice. Pour gin until glass is four-fifths full. Stir it a bit with two olives on a pick.