The imperfect science of the perfect martini and where you can get one in London

If London’s dining scene has been shaking things up of late, one drink appears to reign supreme: the Martini. Shaken or stirred, wet or dry, it’s thriving under all its guises. Chefs are turning into archivists, trying to outdo one another as they attempt to offer customers the best or most original in the field.

Chef Isaac McHale, formerly of two-Michelin star The Clove Club, EC1, has gone so far as to fuse Martini with sherry at his newly opened Bar Valette, E2, after stumbling upon a series of Martini variations nicknamed ‘the Tuxedo’, which blends the classic mixture with absinthe, maraschino or orange bitters.

In the last few months, dozens of establishments have sought to cash in on the Martini renaissance, with French fries proving a popular if unexpected pairing. At the Covent Garden Hotel, WC2, one can order the two for just £14 during happy hour, running from 5-6pm every weekday. Café François in Borough Market, SE1, a new favourite of the style set since it opened last year, has also hopped on the bandwagon, offering ‘Martini and frites’ for £10 from 5pm onwards, Mondays and Sundays.

The French fry has long been any diner’s guilty pleasure — now, they’re a favourite of the most seasoned drinkers and a staple even in the smartest of bars. Every night at 11pm, the Blue Bar at The Berkeley, SW1, treats its high flyers to French fries, billed by the hotel as ‘the perfect side for a Martini or two’.

For those behind the bar, the whole thing can be overwhelming. A bartender, who wishes to remain anonymous, describes the Martini renaissance as her ‘living hell’. ‘Everyone has a different idea of what constitutes the perfect Martini,’ she says, ‘and doesn’t think to specify what they want in a cocktail that has at least 10 canonical declensions.’

Whatever the desired concoction, its execution should be kept simple. ‘A Martini should be made quickly and without fuss,’ says Hugh Richard Wright, a public relations and communications expert specialising in restaurants and hospitality. This view, of course, leans heavily in favour of the classic Martini — a splash of vermouth, gin or vodka, and a twist of lemon — a fact which Hugh seems perfectly content with. ‘The trend for very dirty Martinis needs to stop,’ he tells us. ‘If you want to drink olive brine with a splash of vodka, that’s fine, but don’t pretend you’re drinking a Martini.’

The best Martinis, agrees Honor Cargill-Martin, a classical historian and cocktail aficionado, are the driest. ‘Bone dry, with a twist,’ she specifies. The greatest point of contention is over gin vs. vodka. Connoisseurs seem to favour the latter. The best Martini, argues Ms Cargill-Martin, is an ‘ice cold vodka, preferably a Belvedere, which has at most flirted with vermouth, but never become intimately acquainted with it.’

Some in the Country Life office are more unorthodox. Our luxury editor, Hetty Lintell, enjoys a classic, but is also partial to including a dash of St Germain, or even lychee juice. While sampling the city’s reportedly best Martinis, we found that slight variations from the classic formula tended to go down well — although you also get the sense that ordering the O.G. comes as a relief to waiters.

Our guide on where to find the best Martini has been curated according to several criteria: the ease of ordering, quality of execution and how far the vibes of the drink match the vibes of the environment in which we consumed it.

The Dover Martini, The Dover

Mayfair’s most effortlessly sexy spot has its own martini menu, with nine variations ranging from Hot and Dirty (chilli and olive brine) to a nightcap of sorts with chamomile, mint and CBD oil. This eponymous one, however, is an instant classic: mixologists’ favourite Konik’s Tail vodka, Cocchi vermouth, orange bitters and an orange twist, served in a glass which is the perfect size, shape and temperature (small, rounded and extremely cold). Sip one in the bar itself, surrounded by 1930s-style walnut veneer while Eighties vinyl spins, or order at your table in the restaurant for the perfect accompaniment to the Little Italy-luxe menu.

Dill Boy, Town

Stevie Parle’s new Covent Garden opening is a Studio 54-styled stunner, with a cocktail list to match. Choose from three martinis, including a dirty one lent lip-smacking yeasty depth with the addition of Tio Pepe en rama (unfiltered) sherry, and the much ‘grammed Dill Boy: creamy Luksusowa vodka, dill akvavit, dry vermouth and a photogenic drop of dill oil shimmering on the surface. Covetable serveware – dinky Nick-and-Nora-style midi-sized glasses – adds to the aesthetics and stops you getting too drunk to enjoy the superlative grills on the main menu.

Connaught Martini, The Connaught Bar

Perhaps Mayfair’s finest address, The Connaught is known for pulling out all the stops. The hotel bar is no different: the Martini’s ingredients are wheeled with pomp and ceremony aboard a trolley (‘the trolley’), as a waiter runs you through the various options to personalise yours with the Connaught’s unique tinctures: lavender, coriander, tonka or even cardamon. These are bitters, served by the drop from apothecary-style vials and swirled around the glass as it prepares to receive the drink itself. The cocktail — which doesn’t skimp on vermouth — is mixed over ice and poured from a height in much the same way as one might serve tea in Morocco. Tanqueray no.10 is the gin of choice; for vodka, Belvedere.

Vesper Martini, Crispin at Studio Voltaire

Compact Studio Voltaire in Clapham, south-west London’s coolest gallery, consistently punches above its weight in terms of the exhibitions it hosts — and the food and drink, which comes courtesy of small-plates supremos Crispin, is no different. Pull up a stool at the zinc-topped bar for a punchy little Vesper Martini (gin, vodka, Kina Lillet), paired with a plate or two of their unbelievably moreish skin-on fries with aioli.

House Martini, 69 Colebrooke Row

The Martini at 69 Colebrooke Row in Islington, N1, comes not with pickled onion (vile) but with pickled samphire (delectable). More habitual declensions of Martini — dry or dirty — are available too, but it’s the somewhat poetic incongruity of this tiny green vegetable, salty and delicious and more commonly ordered as a side dish with fish, that truly elevates the concoction. The bartenders here know that the key to a Martini is ice cold liquor and an even colder glass, and the overall vibes — intimate and dimly lit, with a pianist on Sunday nights — does give one the impression of being in an episode of Sex And The City in about 2001. Which is, of course, the highest of compliments.

Martini 45, 45 Jermyn Street

45 Jermyn Street, the pantheon to good restaurant lighting (it’s pinky-hued and eternally flattering) attached to Fortnum & Mason, is where I first had a martini that I actually liked. It was so cold that my fingertips turned blue and the liquid (gin, of course) became more viscous. When I’m feeling particularly indulgent I turn up close to the end of service and order a martini and pudding — all while sitting at the bar. The Martini 45 — Hepple gin, Noilly Prat Dry and Palo Cortado — can be made for one or for two. And is there anything sexier than a well-made martini for two in a beautifully-lit, central London restaurant…?

The classic Martini, The Park

The received wisdom around the Martini is that if the taste may vary from one establishment to the next, very little of that difference ought to come down to alcohol. The Martini at The Park in Bayswater is an exception. Just how much No.3 gin or Belvedere is going into a single dose is up for debate, although by the time you’ve consumed enough to form an opinion, said opinion is likely to be resolutely clouded. Health warnings aside, the Martini here is delicious: smooth and ice cold, with spirits expressly frozen at the request of proprietor Jeremy King. The vermouth comes in the shape of a mister, sprayed into the glass for just a hint of botanicals. The dirty Martini here is also very good — the olives are beautiful — but with the brine acting as a salve for the bitterness of the alcohol, it goes down almost too easily. Bear this in mind when you order up a couple for lunch on Friday, for the extremely special price of £1 per cocktail for up to two drinks. Who said the power lunch was dead?