A Filthy Good Time

The long-misunderstood dirty martini is back to earn your respect. And to party.

- By Kevin Sintumuang

It felt like cheating, but it was delicious. The early days of my relationship with the dirty martini were complex. I craved the easy sophistication that a martini conjured, but my postcollege self wasn’t ready for its stone-cold booziness. Few in their early twenties have dealt with enough adult life to appreciate the martini’s ability to make you forget that you now have to deal with adult life. A dirty martini, however?

That wisp of olive brine alongside gin and vermouth made the drink downright quaffable and fun, even though it still looked like the thing that grown-ups who had a mortgage and a dinner jacket drank. It became a go-to when I felt the need to flex some faux refinement.