Saturday night at the Oak Bar in the Fairmont Copley Plaza unfolds with its usual classy elegance. Under the gilded ceiling and soft golden lights, men wearing cuff links and women glittering with jewelry clink glasses. The bar is ablaze with activity, and wine corks pop merrily.
Perfect time for a ... Barbie-tini?
There it sits on the Oak Bar's 20-martini roster, the impish little sister to the dignified gin-vermouth-olive classic. Beware the soft pink hue: With two types of vodka and only a little cranberry juice, the Barbie-tini is a knockout. Head Bartender Luis Alvarenga recalls two men ordering the drink and asking -- twice -- for more cranberry juice to soften the kick.
"They should just have ordered two cape codders," Alvarenga observed.
But that would have been no fun. And when it comes to martinis and Boston, the fun runneth over, from the Oak Bar's old-school vibes in Copley Square to the latest eye-candy nightspots near Faneuil Hall to a neighborhood joint in Roxbury. A martini tour of the Hub unearths creative spins on the classic cocktail at these locations and others, such as the Barbie-tini, the Fireplace's strawberry-mint martini, and the Breezeway Bar and Grill's tempting "erotica martini."
These are not, by the way, bona fide martinis. Purists reserve that honor for gin or vodka, the barest hint of vermouth, and a thick olive served in a chilled glass. But with puckers, liquers, schnapps, purees, and creme-de-everything on the modern bartender's shelf, the old rules have gone the way of the Harvey Wallbanger. After all, if the Boston Beer Co. can introduce a beer called "chocolate bock," Vinalia, a Downtown Crossing restaurant better known for its wines, can serve a ginger martini.
"All those appletinis -- those are not martinis because there's no vermouth in them," said Ellen Girard, owner of the Professional School of Bartending, in Brockton. "They're very delicious and very good, but they're not a martini."
Yes, for all the traditionalists, bars still pour the original martini. Yes, the drink has undergone a decade-long revival, and yes, even fruity martinis are becoming a tad passe. (Witness the resurrection, of all things, of the sidecar.) But bars and restaurants across the area these days wield sizeable cocktail menus, and martinis take up a few spots on most.
So we went looking for the best. It was, of course, an incomplete quest -- we did not have time to sample the inventions at Pho Republique in the South End or to indulge in a smooth classic martini at Grill 23 in the Back Bay, though friends eagerly recommended each. Any restaurant with a decent bar, from the cozy North End to the hip South End, probably can satisfy your martini cravings, be they classic or contemporary. And perhaps you will find a few favorites at these gems:
Oak Bar, the Fairmont Copley Plaza, 138 St. James Ave., Boston, 617-267-5300.
Truth be told, our companion one night at the Oak Bar also needed a generous serving of cranberry juice with her Barbie-tini. Alvarenga, who has tended bar there for 16 years, sees it nightly -- patrons seduced by the innocent-sounding names of his creations, only to stagger off with their heads spinning.
There's the purple passion martini (vodka and Chambord), the Southern belle (Southern Comfort whiskey and vermouth), and the tropical martini (vodka, coconut rum, and creme de banana).
At $14 per drink, and $16 for the more traditional luxury martinis, these drinks rank amongst the most expensive cocktails we found. But each is potent enough to last a few hours. And each martini comes in its own carafe sitting in a decanter of ice to stay chilled.
Cheeky martinis seem a bit out of place at such the graceful Oak Bar. But when Fairmont bought the hotel in 1996, coinciding with the rebirth of the martini, planners revamped the menu to include some fun creations. Even a traditional martini at the Oak Bar has a touch of whimsy: It's called the Charles River martini, and it's vodka with chopped olives, onions, and lemon twists sitting at the bottom of the glass.
"Junk," Alvarenga said. "Like it is in the river."
Parish Cafe, 361 Boylston St., Boston, 617-247-4777
Where the Oak Bar is a charming old throwback, the Parish Cafe a few blocks away is a laid-back haven with Coldplay on the speakers. Like its menu of specialty sandwiches, the Parish's menu of 16 martinis has drinks invented by prominent bartenders across the city. It's not a bad way to sample the talents of mixologists under one roof.
There's the stiff "M. Cocktail," a potent concoction of vodka and Chambord. An apparent crowd favorite is the key lime martini, with key lime cream, rum, and pineapple juice. There's also the "moongoddess," a virtual fruit basket in a martini class: Grand Marnier, Absolut Citron, and squeezes of lime and lemon, with orange, cranberry, and pineapple juice.
What is this, the produce aisle?
"Bartenders have become more creative with drinks because there are more flavors available to them," bar manager Micah Rochell explained. "It's transcended gender into now where there's a lot of men who are trying these different types of sweet or fruity or whatnot martinis."
No need to feel silly, then, ordering a Suzie's Swiss mint martini -- Godiva white liquer, white creme de menthe, and Stoli vanil vodka. And don't forget the mint leaf. It looked just like a soothing glass of milk, the kind you drank in second grade before hopping into bed in your jammies. But your second-grade milk never went down this smoothly.
Vinalia, 34 Summer St. (in the 101 Arch St. building), Boston, 617-737-1777
We arrived at this tucked-away Downtown Crossing spot in dire need of levity, having just covered a Boston School Committee meeting. Vinalia has broad appeal: part wine bar, part sleek lounge, part white-linen restaurant. Naturally, we seated ourselves at the bar and gazed upon a list of 15 martini creations.
Once again, the produce aisle -- pieces of fruit presumably used in martinis rested on ice at the bar, including pineapples, lemons, limes, oranges, pear, and a coconut. A row of martini glasses contained the garnishes, from mint leaves to blueberries to white chocolate truffles. (White chocolate truffles?)
First up was a mysterious Chopin steel blue martini, a sweet-tasting smorgasbord: Chopin vodka, lemonade, Chambord, blue Curacao, champagne, and a cherry. I had only begun contemplating the dark drink when I noticed my fellow barfly, Boston public schools spokesman Jonathan Palumbo, not drinking, but sniffing his ginger martini.
"Why are you doing that?"
"Smell it," he said, and offered his drink: Absolut citron, ginger puree, and lemon juice, all mixed in a glass drizzled with honey. One whiff reminded me of a comforting glass of tea to ease a scratchy throat or nagging cold. Perhaps not the memory the bartender wanted to conjure up -- but it was unique and tasty, and perhaps a possible remedy.
Surprisingly, Vinalia's martinis seem not to have caught on yet. "I think more people come for the wine," manager Kyle Michaud said.
Just as well -- leave the ginger puree to those who appreciate it.
Other observations from the martini tour:a A sign of how far the martini has strayed from its original recipe is Firefly American Bistro on Dartmouth Street. Firefly posesses only a beer-wine-cordials license, so it uses Op Aquavit, a sweet Swedish spirit, instead of vodka or gin for its extensive martini list.
The results are Crayola-colored, sugary martinis with such names as Creamsicle and Pixie Stix -- the kind of martinis that remind you of the ones you drank as a child. (Or maybe that was just me.)
Just about every bar we visited boasts of an excellent apple martini. Do not fall for it. The best apple martini is at the posh restaurant Radius in the Financial District. Most bars dump apple pucker or apple liquer in their apple martinis, which often makes the drinks syrupy. At Radius, bartenders melt Jolly Rancher candies into vodka and mix it with the juice of a freshly squeezed green apple, resulting in a refreshing taste.
It works because it is simple. Just like a martini should be.
Anand Vaishnav can be reached at vaishnav@globe.com![]()