Sunday, June 14, 2009

Me, pickled, with pickles.

Wondering what to do with those ramps you pickled a few weeks ago? How about a Gibson?

A Gibson is a classic Martini, but with cocktail onions in place of the traditional olives. Since I'm one of those freak shows who doesn't really like olives (I'll drink a Martini, but I'll leave the olives behind in the glass - though offering them up is a good way to make friends.), Gibsons are, for me, the perfect solution.

Loyal readers of this here blog know about my aversion to dry and/or vodka Martinis; that said, I think everyone should drink that which he or she truly enjoys - so, if you must, feel free to substitute vodka for the gin in this recipe. But please don't leave out the vermouth - try a real Gibson at least once. I promise you'll love it.

Pretty please?

Gibson with Pickled Ramps
Serves one, or multiply to serve as many as you like.

4 parts gin (I like Plymouth these days.)
1 part dry vermouth
2 pickled ramps per cocktail (In the absence of ramps, cocktail onions work, too!)

Combine ingredients in a pitcher (or just a large glass, if only making one or two cocktails) filled with ice. Stir slowly and gently until the glass fogs, then strain the cocktails into chilled cocktail glasses. Garnish with onions and serve.


Robin Wendell said...

I experienced my first Martini in Manhattan on a trip there in the late 70''s..I believe it was the summer I turned thirty. I was a late bloomer in the mixed drink arena -- by 25 I was still unable to finish one beer much less anything more challenging. Through perseverance I had managed to work my way up to dry sherry and an occasional old fashioned, (I liked the fruit), but that summer I knew my drinking life had to change.

At that time i was hanging out with a swing band as a dancer I was painfully aware that it was time to learn some more sophisticated drink moves to go along with my Ginger Rogers happy feet and my cut-on the-bias evening gown look. So, before I went to NY I bought a book - The Hour by Bernard Augustine De Voto, 1951. Reading it i was startled to learn that the author considered olives in martinis gauche. I believe his phrase was something along the lines of- 'People who need olives in their martinis were obviously deprived of brine as small children'. Fortified by the information in this book I arranged for my first official martini at the Rainbow Room bar. I wore my nuclear warhead dance dress - the bodice was gold lame cones and the skirt a froth of gold and black lace. My drink order was -- I'll have a very cold dry Bombay martini, up with a lemon twist on the side. When the drink came I carefully twisted my lemon peel over the icy frosted glass to make the citrus oil dance on the surface of the gin. The oil drops and the reflections from the dance globe mirrors made a double rainbow in my glass. It went down like a dream.

30 years and a many-many Martinis later I'll never forget that first one. A swing dance with a great partner and then a martini on an empty stomach -- they are still my favorite high in the whole world.

Meg Blocker said...

What a fantastic story, Robin - thanks for sharing!!

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