The Discreet Charm of the Martini

‍The Discreet Charm of  The Martini

Part of the point of these occasional outpourings is to shine a  light on areas of the small but complex Stoops microcosm which might be  unknown to the common or garden guest (no offence, as a teeenager might say).  Sometimes we take you deep into the cellar to blow the dust off a bottle of  1932 Madeira. Or an attempt might be made to explain the rules around  Hamburger availability (yes in the bar and on the terrace, no in the dining  room). 

Today it is the turn of our Martini, which is the subject of  passionate adoration by an elect few, including several 'well-known  personalities'. While discretion forbids me from naming names, one of these  can be found regulalry in the bar enjoying an ice cold one with a  cheesburger. Another has a quickie at tea-time to steady the mood de  temps en temps.

I have never fully understood why the Martini commands such a  hold on the imagination of the drinking classes. And I am not going to bore  you with the Stoops méthode. After all, noone could match that  of Luis Bunuel who never went a day without one: "Simply allow a ray of  sunlight to shine through a bottle of Noilly Prat before it hits the bottle  of gin."

An oblique reference perhaps to the Immaculate Conception. For,  as Saint Thomas Aquinas once noted, the generative power of the Holy Ghost  pierced the Virgin’s hymen "like a ray of sunlight through a window –  leaving it unbroken".

‍Martini Quote

The barman moved slowly along the bar to the end where I sat andstood looking away from me, with nothing in his face but pallor. Then he turnedto me and said:

"Drink while waiting?"

"A dry martini will do."

"A martini. Dry. Veddy, veddy dry."

"Okay."

"Will you eat it with a spoon or a knife and fork?"

"Cut it in strips," I said. "I'll just nibbleit."

"On your way to school," he said. "Should I put theolive in a bag for you?"

"Sock me on the nose with it," I said. "If it willmake you feel any better."

"Thank you, sir," he said. "A dry martini."

from The High Window, Raymond Chandler, 1942

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