A Cocktail for Stanley Tucci

Editorial note: This was originally written – and very nearly completed – on May 29th, 2022, two days after Tucci’s video was posted. For reasons obscure even to me, I did not publish it at the time. Upon review in February 2024, I have added photographs and the third footnote, and made minor edits for clarity. Otherwise, this is a faithful representation of my original thoughts on the topic:

Stanley Tucci recently posted a charming Instagram video of him making cocktails for his Searching for Italy crew. I enjoyed watching it, as I’ve generally enjoyed his pivot to culinary travelogues and his high-profile interest in mixing cocktails at home. This video, in particular, lends itself to the kind of objectively unnecessary (and lengthy!) academic analysis that I know my readers crave – in no small part because it concerns the Martini, that most analyzed and most analyzable of classic cocktails. What follows is a case study I simply couldn’t resist undertaking, which concludes with a recipe recommendation for Mr. Tucci and anyone with a similar taste in cocktails.

(Before proceeding, I recommend watching the above video in its entirety. It’s a hair under six minutes, and would be very enjoyable even if it didn’t provide a pretext for me to discuss mixological theory.)

Tucci’s Martini technique is as follows: First, he pours dry vermouth into a mixing glass with ice. All told, he stirs it for about 20-25 seconds. Then he strains off the liquid, the goal having been to just slightly flavor the ice with the vermouth. He then adds gin to the remaining ice and stirs for another 20-25 seconds (throwing appropriate shade at James Bond for taking his Martinis shaken).* Then he strains it into stemmed glasses, expresses lemon peels over the top, and then drops the peels in.

Cocktail recipes should suit the purposes for which they are intended. A Tom Collins is meant to be refreshing and sat with for a while, so we serve it in a big glass with lots of ice and emphatically more seltzer than gin; an Earthquake is a slow sipper and a reminder that Lautrec could drink us all under the table, a challenge as much as a beverage, so we serve it bone dry and at room temperature.

Tucci says several things that suggest the purpose for which his Martini recipe is intended:

“You don’t want to have too much vermouth…you don’t want to overpower the gin.”

“Now this has sat, because what you don’t want is for the drink to be too, as they say, ‘hot.’”

“Taste the alcohol, but you want that to be something that is subdued.”

“You’re going to get all the flavors of the gin, with a hint of the vermouth.”

Between these statements and the technique he used, we can do a little triangulation to get to the intent behind the drink.

It would appear that Tucci is in the market for something that is both gin-forward and refreshing, even veering on crushable. His recipe produces a highly diluted cocktail. The Martini’s savory side has been dispensed with in favor of the bright citrusy one. To the extent that the vermouth contributes flavor, it is slight – less even than the lemon peel, particularly because the latter is dropped into the glass and will continue to in infuse into the cocktail over time. The core of the recipe is the Tanqueray Ten, proofed down to a drinkable strength (again, not too hot!) and only lightly seasoned with flavors which complement those in the gin: lemon and a hint of dry vermouth.

Regular readers know that this is not how I would make a Martini.** However, I have a different purpose in mind. For me, a Martini is an evening drink, big and bracing, preprandial in the Emburian tradition of cocktails. I like mine hot, and I like vermouth; I would rather balance my Martini by adding more vermouth flavor as a counterpoint to the gin than by lowering the proof to reduce the presence of the gin.

Tucci appears to be after something else. At two in the afternoon on a seaside Italian terrace, I would sooner have his drink than my own – and I would be more willing to have a second round as well. (Granted, for the stated purpose I would probably pick a different cocktail, but that’s immaterial to this exercise.)

Tucci’s recipe also provides a window into his personal tastes. I am reminded of his famous Negroni video from early in the pandemic, in which he mixed it 2:1:1 rather than equal parts, and shook it rather than stirring or building. It seems reasonable to infer that Tucci is a gin fan, and will want it to be more rather than less present in his cocktails. It also appears that he prefers more dilution in his drinks in general than I do. Remember, shaking dilutes more rapidly than stirring does, and since we usually do them for comparable lengths of time, shaking will in practice dilute more in total than stirring does. For me, the purpose of the Negroni is akin to that of an Old Fashioned: I want to sit with it for a while, and I want it to start spirit-forward and gradually open up as the ice melts. For Tucci, it’s a closer cousin to, for instance, the Corpse Reviver #2: something in the Craddock school of drinks, which are meant to be “drunk quickly, while [they’re] still laughing at you.” That’s why he serves it up rather than on the rocks, and although I would probably stir it rather than shaking if that were my goal, shaking is an efficient way to achieve a slightly lower-ABV result. I should note as well that Tucci and I (and many bartenders) are in agreement that the Negroni often tastes better 2:1:1 than 1:1:1, which, among the choices he makes that one might contest, is the one that has the greatest impact on the drink’s flavor.

If I can hazard a reasonable guess at Tucci’s cocktail tastes from these two videos, I believe I have a recipe recommendation for him. It’s a drink that may or may not have been invented by John Steinbeck (sources differ; it may have been one of his friends), but was in any case first published by him in his novella Sweet Thursday, the sequel to Cannery Row:

Webster F-Street Layaway Plan
2 oz. Gin
1/4 oz. Green Chartreuse
Lemon Peel
Rinse glass with Chartreuse. (Note: 1/4 oz. of Chartreuse is more than you’ll need to rinse the glass, but do NOT pour out the excess; this drink wants the full 1/4 oz.)
Shake gin with ice for 10-12 seconds and strain into rinsed glass. Express lemon peel over the top and drop in.

Steinbeck, alas, didn’t give specific proportions – he just described his drink as a Martini with Chartreuse instead of the vermouth. It’s unclear what style of Martini he had in mind. But the above, which is my go-to way of making it, tracks with Tucci’s approach. Shaking dilutes the gin efficiently; this proofed-down spirit becomes the core of the drink. The Chartreuse will be a bit more present than Tucci’s vermouth, both because it is a stronger flavor inherently and because rinsing the glass (and retaining the excess) incorporates it more directly than rinsing the ice does.***

For me personally, this is what I would make when I wanted something gin-forward but not excessively hot, with subtle citrus and herbal additions. Mr. Tucci, if you’re listening, give this one a try!

*In the video, he then rolls the drink from the mixing glass into a series of shakers in order to find one that will fit the strainer he has. This is a consequence of his being on location with limited tools, and therefore I’m not including it as part of his technique, but for what it’s worth it does push the drink even further in the diluted/refreshing direction which seems to be the overall goal.

**For the benefit of irregular readers: 3 parts gin, 1 part dry vermouth, 1 dash orange bitters, stir 10-12 seconds, strain into a cocktail glass, express a lemon peel over the top and discard.

***I’ll be honest, when I first saw Tucci’s vermouth technique, I thought, “There’s no way that contributes any vermouth flavor to the cocktail; you’re just pouring off all the vermouth.” But then I remembered Dave Arnold’s discussion of what he calls “holdback” in Liquid Intelligence: after shaking or stirring a cocktail with ice, some percentage of the mixture will adhere to the surface of the cubes as the rest is strained off. He calculates the holdback percentage to be 1-4% of the total drink for large rectangular cubes cut from block ice, or 7-9% of the total for smaller ice made by an ice machine.

Tucci stirred an ounce of vermouth in his mixing glass, which means that if Arnold’s percentages hold, anywhere from .01 oz. to .09 oz. of the vermouth could remain on the ice when he’s done. Since the outermost layer of the cubes will be the first to mix into the gin when he reuses that ice, he might theoretically get all or nearly all of that vermouth into the drink. It may not sound like much, but according to Don Lee, there are about 41 dashes of Angostura bitters to the ounce, making one dash of Angostura about .024 oz. So again, depending on the ice, Tucci’s Martini could have the rough equivalent of anywhere from 1/2 – 3 1/2 dashes of dry vermouth…per 6 oz of gin (he said he was making two of them), which is to say 1/4 – 1 3/4 dashes per Martini.

Now, that may be just enough vermouth left behind on the ice to impart some flavor to the finished drink. But I am also reminded of what my dear friend Alexander said to me when I shared this video with him, which was, “Stanley Tucci has contrived an entirely new way to not put vermouth in your cocktail.” Even the Webster F-Street Layaway Plan, which is astoundingly dry by most standards, has somewhere between eight and seventy-five times more Chartreuse per unit of gin than Tucci’s Martini has of vermouth.

Something Something "From the Ashes"

I recently discovered the below post, in more-or-less complete form, sitting in my drafts. I had written it in February 2020, and was polishing it when the world went sideways.

Obviously, things have changed a great deal since last year, in the world as a whole and also in the narrow corner of it reflected in this website. The spirits consulting business I mentioned was sidelined by the pandemic; on the other hand, I’ve gotten to write two more books, and developed an online cocktail course that is my closest approximation yet to the kind of experience I’ve been trying to offer since 2012.

I’ve also been much better about posting here than I had been in 2018 and 2019. I haven’t developed the formalized blog series I was mulling in 2020, but I’ve effectively covered the “Back to Basics” one with my posts on recipes for Classic Cocktails, and covered a good chunk of the material for “Workhorse Spirits” along the way. The other ideas you’ll see below are still in my mind, and I think I may just have to pursue them now - reviving this particular post essentially makes it the first in the “From the Archives” series, although whether that’s ironic or apt I’m not quite sure.

I’ve mostly chosen to share the below as a sort of time capsule from just before the pandemic. There is an optimism to it that made so much sense at the time, and that rings strange in retrospect, knowing what was right around the corner. But, with more and more people getting vaccinated, perhaps it’s beginning to be warranted once again. Enjoy.


Let’s try this again.

I knew it had been a long time since last I posted an update. I was aware, in the back of my mind, that it had in fact been far too long, some might even say unconscionably long, since the last time I both started and finished recording a thought on this site.

But I had no idea it had been two years.

So much has happened in that time! I made it to the American Bar at the Savoy Hotel (of eponymous cocktail book fame), and there tasted the finest expressions I’ve ever had of not one but two different classic cocktails. I met one of the authors of the cocktail guide that has had the greatest impact upon my life, bar none, and got him to sign the weathered copy I’d been carting around for seven years. I attended the best spirits history panel I’ve ever seen, as well as a seminar on brand ambassadorship that has genuinely changed the trajectory of my professional life.

My foray into craft spirits distribution turned into three years of growth, exploration, and creative pathfinding throughout Massachusetts. And just since the start of this year, I’ve moved on from that sales role to start my own spirits consulting business.

All of which finally came to a head, persuaded me that the time had come to resume posting to this site in earnest (like my friend Randy over at Summit Sips, who’s also recently reawakened from a lengthy slumber), and having come here to write it, I find:

Two. Years.

I know better than to promise that updates are about to become frequent, per se, but I think I can confidently manage to post more than once every 730 days. Y’know, for a little while, at least.

That’s in no small part because I have a lot bottled up to share, including a lot of previously-begun material that’s already nearly ready for prime time.

So, here’s a preview of what I’d like to put on this site now that the Roaring ‘20s have finally returned. Keep an eye out for the following tags:

  • Back to Basics - A series focusing on true classics done well, with history and commentary as applicable. This is my bread and butter, but it’s not represented proportionally on this website; I’m going to fix that. (Also the name of one of the remarkably few complete digital albums I own.)

  • From the Archives - If every draft post I have at 70-80% readiness had been published on the day it got there, you would never have noticed a gap in the updates to this blog. Often apropos of nothing, I’m going to begin pulling those updates (plus some other, even older ones!) and posting them more or less as they are, filling in only any obvious gaps in the material.

  • Workhorse Spirits - Long promised and little delivered, except in the form of a quick guide with precious little detail. But I have three of them locked and loaded in the aforementioned Archives and more in the pipeline.

  • History of Boston Cocktails - Likewise teased in the past, but never fully fleshed out. The distance between here and there is the greatest for this series, but I have a lengthy list going back to 1840 and quite a lot of material to work with.

And to kick things off, a recipe that’s both thematically appropriate and one of the two fabulous above-mentioned drinks I had at the Savoy:

IMG_7420.jpg

Corpse Reviver №1
2 oz. Cognac
1 oz. Apple Brandy
1 oz. Sweet Vermouth
Stir. Strain into a chilled coupe glass. Do not garnish.

Both grape and apple brandy are criminally underrated these days (the latter even more so) - sure, cocktail bars will stock them, but they’re not stalwarts on the menus in the way that gin, whiskey, and even mezcal are these days. And that’s at the places that know what they’re doing! The country is still full of establishments that have missed the memo on the last thirty years. In such places, you can often get a recognizable Martini or Old Fashioned, but God help you if you’re hoping for a halfway decent brandy drink. Unless you’re in Wisconsin, in which case you can drink the signature local Old Fashioned variant to your heart’s content.

In that respect, it’s perhaps fitting that the Corpse Reviver №1 languishes in the shadow of the Corpse Reviver №2, but it’s also dreadfully unfortunate, because this is a lovely drink. The recipe I’ve given follows Harry Craddock’s original from the Savoy Cocktail Book, which I’d say is just about perfect. Some people will prefer a lower proportion of vermouth; others will follow Trader Vic and garnish with a lemon twist. Both are perfectly fine variants, but as a lover of old things and brandies - including the very brandy with which vermouth is fortified - I’m content with the original.

How this particular concoction came to be called a ‘corpse reviver’ has been lost to time. Craddock was the one who established the current numbering scheme, and he famously accompanied this one with the instruction, “To be taken before 11AM, or whenever steam or energy is needed.” But while the №2, with its light color and bright, citrussy flavor, seems like a perfectly plausible brunch cocktail, the №1 is unlikely to revive any corpses until about suppertime.