The No-Bitters Martini

The right vermouth. Salt. You just have to make the marriage work.

The older I get, the more often I drink Martinis. 

As I’ve written before, it took me a long time to come around to the idea of the Martini, to wrap my head around the dryness of the drink, the austerity of it, the chilly bite. But these days, it’s a drink I look forward to, especially during seasonal transitions. Deep winter is for drinking rich, stirred cocktails and high-proof whiskey. The dog days of summer are for tiki drinks and juicy sours. But at least in Washington, D.C., late March and April deliver Martini weather, when the days might bring a 70 degree afternoon or a 35 degree evening. When the weather is trying to figure itself out, that’s when you drink a Martini. 

In part, that’s because the Martini is itself so versatile. It can adapt to almost any context or situation. It can work at many different ratios with many different gins. Unlike so many classics, there’s no one best version of the drink. That’s why when I last wrote about Martinis, I argued that a Martini should fall within a set of 11 rules and guidelines — but that ultimately the drink worked exceptionally well in many guises, and it was up to you to pick your own. 

Of those guidelines, the one that arguably seems least rule-like is number 8: A Martini should probably include orange bitters. 

Should probably? Really? What kind of rule is that?

If Congress passed a law saying you should probably pay your taxes, I am quite confident that there would be some confusion — not to mention litigation. But while there are Martini rules, there are no Martini laws, thank goodness. The Martini will never be up to any court. 

All of which is to say that it’s possible to make an excellent Martini without bitters. In this week’s newsletter, we’ll look at two. 

At Least It’s an Ethos

Before we go any further, we should talk about the role of orange bitters in a Martini, and in cocktails generally.