Last Wednesday I called a good friend Louis (aka, “Lou”) to inform him that I would, in fact, be arriving at his place to partake in the martinis we had been talking about since, oh, they came up during a discussion about Bernard DeVoto and the history of the American West (maybe I’ll write a doctoral dissertation some day about how everything relates back to DeVoto).

I arrived at his place after work on Thursday evening, and ascended the two flights of outdoor stairs to his front entrance. Through the screen door I saw Lou inside, reading something or other. I knocked and announced myself. As usual, he warmly greeted me and invited me in. I entered and sat down in his living room where we made small talk — something about Flaubert’s travels in Egypt I recall. Lou is a man of action, though, and within minutes he disappeared into his kitchen while we shouted conversation to make up for the distance and partition wall.

After some clinking and shuffling, Lou emerged with two frosty martini glasses, the clear spirits chilled to the core, ice crystals centered and floating at the top of the elixer. By no means am I a martini expert, and I only know how DeVoto loathed olives in his. The Lou martini, however, necessitates two large, green olives, speared with a toothpick and resting at an angle in the glass. But more of that later. My first Lou Martini in hand, I tipped the glass slightly back, sipped, and the clear and sharp-cold liquid cut through the luke warm taste of coffee that had lingered in my mouth since the early morning hours. This, my friends, is what we call Civilization: refrigeration, finely distilled spirits, just a smattering of vermouth, glass cones with thin stems — preserve the cool. The olives, as well, complimented the taste of this fine cocktail.

I wondered out loud, “Perhaps DeVoto was living in a period of history where olives simply were garbage?” It was mere speculation though, as Lou and I, fundamental empiricists, could not say precisely one way or another without tangible evidence. Lou said his vodka methodology was rather simple. First is preparation: chill these three items in the freezer ahead of time: martini glasses, vodka, and decanter. As far as I know, jam decanter full of ice, and add, I think, three jiggers of Absolut vodka (any other fine vodka will do). Then the shaking: Lou counts it off, shaking the vodka for precisely twenty-five seconds. Then it is strained into the martini glasses, and just two or three drops of vermouth are added to the top.

I’m uncertain if the olives go in before, or after, the vodka or vermouth is added. I’ll have to reconsult the primary source. Accompany these fine drinks with great conversation and bawdy banter. After two martinis, tragedy momentarily struck as there was only enough vodka on hand for a total of four martinis. But alas, good friends, Lou and I are all too familiar with the three martinis that characterized the lunches and dinners of the first half of the Twentieth Century.

We decided to hike the seven blocks over to the Peacock Alley, and simultaneously respect the three martini precedent over a bit of dinner while comparing Peacock’s martinis to Lou’s. Once there, we ordered two martinis with Absolut, and right off Lou caught a Peacock blunder: the martini glasses were not in the freezer. The Peacock Alley bartender, Mary, compensates by filling and effectively chilling the glass with ice and water. This solution is left for a minute or two, then dumped just before the vodka is poured into the glass from the decanter. DeVoto recommended that 500lbs of ice be on hand when partaking in any kind of martini construction proper. Lou suggested to the bartender that the Peacock consider putting their martini glasses in the freezer. She agreed, but said it was a spatial impossibility: there simply was not enough room in the freezer. We nodded to demonstrate our understanding, and finished off the evening with a third martini, some hot sandwiches, great banter, and glorious conversation. We agreed that Western Civilization was, afterall, worth defending.