The Sybarite's favourite martinis, part 2

Dear readers,

I recently found myself in Dublin's fair city, always a pleasurable experience, especially when the sun is shining and the handsome Georgian architecture is at its best. My employers had kindly put me up at the Shelbourne Hotel on St Stephen's Green, which was a real treat, to which I may return at another point. It is a magnificent establishment, and redolent with the complexities of modern Irish history as well as being the height of luxury and good service.

During a break in the proceedings, I found time to escape to the bar to peruse the selection of cocktails. (Oysters were also available, and I was sorely tempted, but I was about to dine. Another time, perhaps.) The list was solid, though, like so many places these days, it offered some rather unnecessarily florid variations on old standards, and I confess to being rather wary. While the staff were charming, most of them were not so much hearty raconteurs of Erin and winsome colleens as dutiful employees from east of the Oder. In any event, the barman placed a selection of snacks in front of me - wasabi peas, Japanese rice crackers, the usual abominations - and asked what I would like.

I decided to be brave. A martini, I told him, very dry, with gin. He nodded and scuttled off. I was wary because I have been to far too many bars where I have earnestly asked for a very dry martini and got some foul concoction that must have been nearly 50/50 gin and vermouth. He returned to ask two pertinent questions: firstly, what kind of gin would I prefer? Second, did I want an olive or a twist? After a run-down of the options on the first point, I asked for Tanqueray 10 and a twist (I've never really cared for olives in a martini; I don't like them in their natural state, and they do flavour the drink).

The barman is to be applauded. He took my instruction seriously, and brought me a good, cold, dry martini. The flavour of the gin was to the fore, as it should be, there was a hint of vermouth (I think I saw him using Noilly Prat), it was properly shaken (I am not a fanatic on the stirred vs. shaken issue) and it was a decent size. I shifted in my stool, took the first sip, and felt that life-affirming cold heat of the gin spreading through my body. Pure bliss.

This, I think, illustrates an important point. There are excellent cocktail bars, in which the staff know their business very well and should be able to furnish you with anything you want. Elsewhere, if the ingredients are there, all I ask is that the staff follow politely-offered instruction. I asked for it very dry, with just a whisper of vermouth, and that was what I got. It was delicious, and, even better, I somehow mustered the self-control to stop at two.

So if you are a cocktail lover and find yourself in Dublin, shamble along to the Shelbourne. Be warned, it is not cheap; but then it was not horrifically extortionate either. It was averagely-priced for a cocktail in a posh hotel. It was also well, well worth it. Sláinte mhaith!