Dos Martinis, Por Favor!

Big Guy and I both enjoy a “signature drink,” as our friend Eric announced one day. Big Guy loves a Rusty Nail, and I am a Martini girl.

The rumor is I got my love of gin at birth. Mom denied she had a wee tipple the night she went into labor, although that is well-established as fact in family lore. If she did, I bet it took the edge off. As the years progressed, I was also known for toddling past my grandmother’s cocktails and taking a swig. There was uproar every time, but I bet I slept well as a baby!

My first martini in a public place was at Sadri’s in New York. It was divine thinking about the plethora of martini’s consumed in that special space. To this day, in my recollection, I was drinking among the spirits of the Broadway glitterati both past and present.

London Dry Gin may be an acquired taste. I boldly suggest once you add the right atmosphere, there is nothing better in the world!