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Photo: Devojka My idea of wisdom is knowing better than to judge how somebody orders their martini*. It’s a deeply personal thing. Among the most classic of classic stirred-up cocktails, the martini has perhaps the most forgiving dress code of any. So, it pains me when someone sheepishly admits that they like olives and a twist in their martini, or more brine than vermouth, or shaken and not stirred. There’s no need to be sheepish. The only situation I would strongly encourage (but never insist) a person modify their martini is if they prefer theirs with vodka, but admit to never having tried one with gin. A gin martini, with a ratio of two parts gin and one part dry vermouth, is the cocktail in its most pure and original. When done with excellence, it’s a truly perfect and marvelous thing very much worth a try (especially if you haven’t imbibed one before). The martini does have a sister Well it has a few siblings, but I’m thinking about one specifically. This one is akin to a fraternal twin, and her name is Gibson. She’s a martini with a cocktail onion, and she is spectacular. I met the Gibson at the tail end of my own preferential martini evolution. To me, the martini’s appeal had always been—as I imagine is the case with many people—the luscious olive that sits so invitingly on a skewer. As a child, I would pour pickle brine in a martini glass, skewer half a […]