How the Dry Martini Became Every It Girl’s Go-To

A dry martini is a timelessly iconic drink that has transcended generations. It was the emblematic drink of the Jazz Age, of film noir and post-war suburbia. It conjures up images of James Bond and the Rat Pack, ’80s power lunches and 21st-century retro yearning. For some, the martini is the paradigm of the cocktail — even a synonym for it, in some quarters. On paper, it is the simplest cocktail of all; in reality, it is capable of infinite nuance.

But what is the history of this cocktail? How did it cement itself in the mixological hall of fame? And how do you make the best dry martini for yourself at home?

The Contested Origins of the Dry Martini

You could write a book about the disputed origins of the dry martini. Many cocktail connoisseurs have already done so, retelling the same old tales.

Was it born in San Francisco during the 1870’s? Or in New York during the gilded age or decades later? Was it named after the Italian vermouth brand, a British rifle or a Ligurian bartender? Or is the name a corruption of the Martinez, an older cocktail made of sweet Old Tom gin, sweet vermouth and various bitters or liqueurs?

Nineteenth-century martini recipes mimic the Martinez, but check out the anonymous American manual Cocktails: How to Make Them, published in 1898. On the same page as two sweet martinis is a recipe for a drink called the Marguerite. It was made with dry Plymouth Gin, dry French vermouth, a dash of orange bitters and an olive for garnish— a much closer prototype of the cocktail we know today.

Over the course of the next five years, the martini pulled a Talented Mr. Ripley-style switcheroo, stealing the Marguerite’s elegant and serious identity. Meanwhile, the Marguerite slipped into unloosed decadence, with anisette and then curaçao and swapping the olive for a maraschino cherry and a twist.

How the Dry Martini Evolved

A full martini glass garnished with a lemon twist. — The Wabi Sabi Martini at Prophecy Bar. Photography, SMC Communications.

From there, the dry martini was off and running, becoming ever drier as the decades passed. The initial equality between gin and vermouth soon morphed to a 2:1 ratio and then 3:1. By the 1940’s, many felt it was enough to rinse the glass with vermouth and pour it away before adding the gin.

Winston Churchill, famously, took the final step, simply filling a pitcher with Boodles Gin and then glancing briefly at a bottle of vermouth across the room. He still called his drinks “martinis,” though clearly they weren’t. The cocktail requires the vinous, herbal intrusion of vermouth to bring the spirit to life.

By the end of the decade, the third original element of the cocktail— a dash of orange bitters— had also all but disappeared.

The Gins That Shaped the Martini

Postwar austerity saw the extinction of the sweetened Old Tom style of gin. While used in the earliest versions of the cocktail, it lost ground to the London Dry style over time. (And now that that enthusiastic millennial distiller has revived Old Tom, we can see why.)

But Plymouth Gin, established in 1793, has never fallen from grace, especially for martini making. It is full-bodied and richly earthy, though less juniper-forward than traditional London Dry brands like Gordon’s, Beefeater, Booth’s and Tanqueray. This makes for a subtler cocktail.

It held its own against later arrivals. That includes the spicy, floral Bombay Sapphire, the citrus-heavy Tanqueray No. Ten and Hendrick’s, with its unorthodox addition of rose and cucumber essences. Today, the market is flooded with new gins of every description and colour and made with any kind of botanical you care to name. But Plymouth remains a classic.

Choosing Vermouth to Match the Gin

Back in the day, the Marguerite’s “dry French vermouth” was certainly Noilly Prat. This was made of maderized and lightly fortified white wine infused with Provençal herbs and spices. The aging process gives Noilly Prat serious staying power against big London Dry gins in today’s martinis. But for a lighter, more subtle gin, pair it with softer Dolin dry white vermouth, from Chambéry in the French Alps.

Olive or Zest? Choosing the Right Garnish

A martini in a clear glass with lemon peel next to a dish of skewered green olives. — A velluto martini at Little Grouse on the Prairie.

The choice of garnish in the cocktail demands another decision: an olive or a twist of lemon zest? That also depends on the gin.

An olive will balance a citrus-forward gin and add an intriguing trace of salinity.
A twist of lemon zest will refresh a very herbal spirit, like The Botanist.

Substituting a twist of orange zest will outrage martini purists. But it’s a move that can be a thrillingly delicious epiphany for the adventurous.

Why Temperature is Everything

The next vital characteristic of any dry martini is that it must be as cold as possible. Call it a truth universally acknowledged. Never mind if it’s shaken or stirred— long contact with ice is essential, unless you favour the straight-from-the-freezer naked martini.

Back in the 1930’s, at the Hotel Europa in Venice, the great bartender-restaurateur Giuseppe Cipriani hit on an idea. He decided to pre-mix martinis and setting the brimming glasses in the freezer for an hour before his customers appeared.

Fifty years later, at Dukes Hotel in London, the idea was perfected: Keep the gin and the cocktail glasses in the freezer. When the order comes in, rinse the glass with vermouth and then pour in the gin. There’s no need for ice at all, so there’s no dilution.

It’s an elegant notion and makes life easy for anyone hosting a cocktail party. But for for the classic dry martini, it’s unnecessary— and inevitably there are objections. Isn’t that teeny moment of ice melt in the cocktail shaker or mixing glass part of the essential magic? Doesn’t the method loosen the grip of the alcohol and ease the union of wine and spirit?

More importantly, freezer gin is thick and sluggish in the glass. This means there won’t be that invisible aura of alcohol molecules that carries its aromas to your nose. You might as well make your cocktail with vodka— same tune but played on a penny whistle, not a string quartet.

In the End, it’s All Down to Personal Taste

A martini glass garnished with a skewered olive, on a square green coaster. — Dry Vodka Martini at Hawthorn Dining Room & Bar.

The final ingredient of the perfect dry martini: personal taste. Every martini aficionado has their own opinion of how the cocktail should be made. That opinion may also change with one’s mood or location.

In Scotland, I would specify Rock Rose Gin or Caorunn. In Ireland, I would choose one of the four seasonal expressions from Glendalough.

Here at home in Canada, I like to play the field. Currently on my bar, I have Anglo-French Renais and Ontario’s own Valley of Mother of God, to be mixed with Dolin vermouth in a ratio of 6:1. It is then stirred not shaken and garnished with an unstuffed, pitted Castelveltrano olive.

Tomorrow, the endless quest for perfection will no doubt suggest something entirely different. And that is the beauty of the dry martini: Like people or dreams, no two are exactly the same.

Dry Martini FAQs

What is the ratio of a standard dry martini?

It depends on personal taste! The ratio of a standard dry martini ranges from 4:1 to 6:1 of gin and vermouth.

What is the difference between a “dry” and “extra dry” martini?

A “dry” martini features a small amount of vermouth. An “extra dry” martini will have just a dash or no vermouth at all.

Is a dry martini shaken or stirred?

A standard dry martini should be stirred, not shaken. Stirring the cocktail ensures a smooth finish while avoiding excess dilution.

How should a dry martini be served?

It should be served ice cold in a chilled, stemmed cocktail glass.

What is the best garnish for a dry martini?

It depends on what flavour profile you’re going for. A lemon twist is classic for a bright and aromatic touch. Another classic garnish is the olive, which adds a brinier profile.