a dirty story

Once upon a time, I wanted to make a dirty martini.

Alas, my liquor cabinet was bare! In fact, I don’t even have a liquor cabinet! I only have one lonely Costco-sized bottle of Kahlua. And some old white wine in the fridge that I probably shouldn’t even be cooking with anymore because the grapes are so old and decrepit they are begging to be laid to rest before they actually just evaporate.

This was a problem.

How could I mix this drink without….a shaker? How could I make the drink without….the alcohol? How could I make it dirty without even…..the olives? Even if I could have accomplished all these things, I would still end up drinking it out of a paper cup, as I did not even have….the martini glasses! Not so for this dirty (martini) girl.

I had a mission.

I spent countless hours (minutes) online, researching the perfect components, and set out to travel the world (to ross and the grocery store) to find the right tools and ingredients to get down and dirty.

Upon my arrival at ross (per someone’s suggestion, thank you very much), I found within seconds a shaker for less than six dollars, and four light and perfect martini glasses. Not too tall or top heavy, and not so fragile that they would crack just by me looking at them. (Glass fears me. I break glass. I break sturdy glass. We drink out of plastic cups in this house. My parents haven’t had glassware in their home since, well, since I was old enough to even look at their glasses.)

On to the grocer, where I made my way to the wall of liquor, carefully weighed each option (which one is cheaper and will wreak the least amount of havock on my grocery budget without being totally trashy…) and decided on some smirnoff, martini& rossi and simple pimento-stuffed green olives.

I proudly procured my ID before the cashier could even ask for it; Yes, I am a Martini Maker: Behold My Majesty.

Yeah, yeah, whatever, lady, I see you were born on 1981, get over yourself.

I gently placed my new treasures on the passenger seat and watched over them on the journey home. Are you comfortable? Good. Soon, soon you will be home. Your new home. With me. Where I shall take care of you forever. Can I get you a drink?

Once home, I placed some ice water in my new perfect martini glass and set it in the freezer.

I carefully measured

Three ounces of vodka.

One ounce of vermouth.

One ounce of olive brine. (I felt like being extra dirty)

I filled my new shaker halfway with chipped ice and added the above.

Three shakes, and the shaker actually frosted over! It was beautiful.

I emptied the glass of the ice water (very carefully, avoiding its gaze so as not to shatter it…) and poured my dirty drink into it. In went two olives, and behold My First, made-by-my-own-hands Dirty Martini:

The end.

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6 thoughts on “a dirty story

  1. I looooove dirty martinis (shocker, right?). However, I don’t use that much vermouth, bleh. I either swirl a little in the glass and dump it out, or, just glance in the direction of the vermouth bottle. *wink*

    Four words for you:

    Blue cheese stuffed olives.

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