Ian Fleming has given this wonderfully satisfying drink an aura of smug. The image of Roger Moore standing by the bar, concubine and martini in hand, wearing his best contemptuous expression sticks in my memory. Mind you, I was really only put off by the thought of drinking nearly straight vodka – we all know we wanted to be just like him.
But the poor dry martini has been thoroughly misrepresented. Underneath the cool veneer lies a drink of unmatched sophistication, with a wealth of adaptability to (almost) any palate. Allow me the pleasure of walking through my favourite martini, the 1920s classic.
