The original formulation was 3/4 vermouth and included bitters.

As I love both vermouth and bitters, this is not a problem in my eyes.

The original formulation was 3/4 vermouth and included bitters.

Interesting! I'd like to try that sometime. I had my first Old-Fashioned this weekend, at the bar of Nashville's super-swanky Hermitage Hotel. I forget exactly what was in it, but it did have bourbon and bitters. It was tasty, though a little too sweet for me; I wouldn't have been able to have more than one.

Perhaps I need to try some high-quality vermouth.

there is an older variation called a perfect martini which uses sweet vermouth.

In college I waitressed at the country club where our condo was located. One night a neighbor of ours was in, and he ordered a perfect Manhattan. Well, I had no idea what that was, given that I was 21 and only drank beer and Beam. I mean, I had heard of a Manhattan, but not a *perfect* Manhattan. So I assumed our neighbor was asking for a Manhattan made perfectly. And I made a joke about throwing out all the imperfect Manhattans.

And, one explanation later, I knew what a perfect Manhattan was and I felt like a perfect rube. Ever after that point, I just repeated customers' orders verbatim to the bartender and waited to see what it was I was serving (90% of the time it was mugs of beer, and 9.9% of the time it was wine or liquor or mixed drinks I had heard of; the remaining .1% was the shame-inducing perfect Manhattan).

Nora, it sounds like Laga's referring to a Martinez. Some say it's the original Martini, some say it's the "grandaddy of", whatever that means, some say that the Martini was born after the advent of dry vermouth... who knows. But it's a very old-school kind of drink, and about the furthest thing from silliness about waving the vermouth bottle around in the same room.

And, one explanation later, I knew what a perfect Manhattan was and I felt like a perfect rube.

Aw, poor 21-year-old Steph. Of course, now I am imagining all sorts of other conversations.

"I'd like the salmon, please. And Sex on the Beach."
"Well, so would I, sir, but this is a country club, not a brothel."

perfect Manhattan

is that equal parts sweet and dry vermouth?

If there were half an hour left in the work day, and not two hours, I might feel less guilty about googling drinks recipes on the clock. As it is, I feel -- huh, not actually guilty. Carry on.

And, one explanation later, I knew what a perfect Manhattan was and I felt like a perfect rube.

Aw, poor 21-year-old Steph. Of course, now I am imagining all sorts of other conversations.

I tell you what, it made me really appreciate people who can explain things you don't know *without* making you feel like an undereducated Philistine yokel.

perfect Manhattan

is that equal parts sweet and dry vermouth?

Hmm. Don't know. I've blocked it out in my attempt to repress my shame at my lack of mixology knowledge.

Oh, Fay, I am so so sorry. Travel~ma and coping~ma.