I was reading a January article from New York magazine by E. Alex Jung about the joys of drinking martinis with a side order of French fries. He apparently first enjoyed this combination at Café Loup, a place I’m reasonably sure I went to at least once in my Manhattan days. It’s gone now anyway.
Jung goes to an establishment called Mimi and the article is illustrated with this picture.
I don't know if you read the caption, it says 'Mimi offers a romantic mood: its martini glasses leave something to be desired.' Yes that glass is an oddity, but in fact I was rather intrigued by it, thought it was quite a bold move, though I see the obvious disadvantages.
The combination of martini and French fries sounds a good one, the problem I see, as a man with an English palate, is that I’d want some vinegar on those French fries, and I fear that would play havoc with the taste of the martini. I’m not saying I wouldn’t be able to drink it, but I’d fret.
In general however Jung is very sound on the nature of the martini – what I call a meniscus, he calls a baby bump. And he also says, ‘These are feral times, and there’s an invitation of madness with a martini — a willingness to see where the night may go. There are dedicated martini menus and endless variations with everything from MSG to seawater drawn from Montauk. (The Ocean Martini at Honey’s, dotted with two cured autumn olives that look like blood clots, is fantastically briny.)’ Well it would be, wouldn't it?
I’m still working out how I feel about that, but I suppose it’s just an extreme version of a dirty martini. Apparently it looks like this:
Below is E. Alex Jung who doesn’t look like a typical martini and French fry kind of guy, but we know that martini enthusiasts come in all sizes and shapes.
Meanwhile in similar news here’s a (rather cloudy) gimlet I made earlier, with a bowl of Keogh’s Mature Irish cheese and onion crisps; similar concept, different execution.