The chichi martini

How about an ice-cold martini? Great! What kind would you like?

There’s the Butterfly’s Kiss made with vanilla vodka and Goldschlager served at Bar Marmont. The Here Lounge makes a frozen green apple martini. Maggiano’s mixes a French martini with raspberry vodka, Chambord, Champagne and cranberry juice. Even Daddy’s, that dark-as-a-cave lounge, can make a watermelon version.

I love martinis, but hasn’t the craze gone far enough now that TGI Friday’s and Applebee’s have martini lists? It’s a nationwide phenomenon. But in Southern California, the land that brought you snowboarding, white pizzas and sunglasses with vertical “ear pieces,” martinis and martini mutations are so beyond the “taken off like wildfire” phase. Some of these nuevo wave-o martinis, made with every liqueur in the book, are tasty. But they’re not really martinis. What does it say about us that we want a drink that’s called a martini and that looks like a martini -- served straight up in a cocktail glass -- but doesn’t taste at all like the real deal?

Since Sept. 11 and the dive in the market, we’ve gone on a major comfort binge. Restaurants are dishing up meatloaf and mashed potatoes, designers are pushing clothes in fuzzy fabrics with ‘60s and ‘70s designs, studios are churning out fantasies like “Lord of the Rings” and “Harry Potter,” and who’s at the top of the charts when it comes to concert tours? Nostalgic, easy-to-listen-to pop acts like Paul McCartney and Britney Spears.

Granted, the terrorist attacks, sliding economy and impending war with Iraq have rattled us all. But you can’t help but think the phony-martini craze is just one more example of Americans in denial. Can’t we even face the sting of the martini?

Martinis were invented for no-nonsense drinkers who wanted them dry and sometimes removed those interloper olives. They taste almost medicinal, and given our Puritan roots that’s downright patriotic. It’s the ultimate power drink that brings even our best to their knees. Consider Dorothy Parker’s ode to the cocktail: “I like to have one martini / two at the very most / After three I’m under the table / After four I’m under my host.” We crave the martini even though we can’t stomach its taste.

I’m convinced that were the Manhattan invented today it would have some kind of martini-ish name that might put it on the endangered species list once the trend ends. It wouldn’t deserve to die, because it’s a classic, original drink, with its flavors of bourbon and bitters balanced by a touch of sweet vermouth. If I had to pick three martini-ish drinks that should not go the way of the dodo, I’d put money on the cosmopolitan, the lemon drop and the green apple martini. But the last one I worry about. It’s delicious and visually stunning but it’s also stuck with the martini moniker and might fade when the fashion ends. Quick! Somebody give it a new name and save its life.

The problem is the trend. Southern California bartenders and restaurant owners need to get off the bandwagon. If you think you’ve got a great drink, don’t cave in to the craze. Give it a fresh name and if it’s still around in a year you’ll have made bartender history. So, let’s toast 2003 in hopes it’s the year that makes the martini respectable again, that the green apple martini survives and that there are a round of new cocktails introduced by the time we’re ready to greet 2004. Cheers!

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Stirred, not shaken

James Bond, who insisted on martinis that were shaken, not stirred, seemed the purist, but many martini drinkers don’t mix them with ice, which dilutes the liquor and always creates slurry or foam on the cocktail’s surface. Keep your gin or vodka in the freezer and the vermouth in the refrigerator, chill the glasses, and stir the ingredients together.

Dry martini:

2 ounces gin or vodka

Less than one teaspoon dry vermouth

Garnish with olives or lemon twist