Lanesboro has a new spot (in an old spot) for imbibing: The Dirty Martini Lounge.
But we have a question: What is a dirty martini? Wikipedia .answers.
Now the confession. Not because it's Monday and we drank martinis all weekend. It's beyond that: GT doesn't "get" the never-ending martini craze that took hold in the 90s.
And--go ahead and roll your eyes--GT does not recognize the martini as part of the post-1960s social culture. (Marketing culture yes, social no.)
A martini was once a stiff drink that after a second helping could put a female (aka lady) under the table--or asleep over it. Three martinis would render large men into stumbling, grinning schmoes who reeked of alcohol and smoke.
The difference between a martini and drinking a pint of whiskey from the bottle was that the martini required a cocktail dress and heels or jacket and tie. Ideally it was paired with a men's charcoal gray business suit.
Martinis were for adults who could smile and drink it in without wincing--as exquisitely as taking a puff of a Parliament resting close by in a glass or black resin ashtray. It was to be drunk daytime or evening, indoors. On the patio you drank sours or highballs.
Martini is now practically a euphemism to dress down and party. It's just short of a kegger but you can wear that gold halter without fearing that someone will chase you and try to pour beer down your front. (I'm probably dating myself to the era of drinking and frolicking at age 19 or 20.) Almost any diluted concoction can become a martini if served in a conical glass.
As tainted with alcoholism and melancholia as the (genuine) martini can be, GT has no heart for its superficial descendant. The martini died some time in the 70s--along with a more forgiving way of life that winked at drinking businessmen (not journalists, however, who sustained themselves with a flask in the desk drawer)--and should rest in peace.
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