When in a pub or a bar I am the most easy-going of persons, especially when sipping a drink, but I confess that in such places, and restaurants included, I have a serious complaint that seems to apply to all but the most traditional of establishments. It involves the ordering of a most special drink. The martini.
In countless, unforgivable, moments in this part of the world, I have asked for a martini, only to be asked if I would like a gin or a vodka martini. An educated reader will join me in silently screaming at this point. Why? Because a martini is always made with gin, unless the customer (who is always right) asks for a vodka martini.
It seems that bartenders in New York where the most diverse cocktails in the history of drink o’clock were created are, now, sadly, guilty of this ignorance. And that’s a sobering shame.
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