The mixology debate agitates martini fans

The making of a martini raises so many alluring questions: Does shaking spoil the taste of the martini? Does stirring get the drink cold enough? Should the bartender put on an exciting show, or should he mix with masterly nonchalance? (There's a delicious word for that quality:

sprezzatura

.)

For a century or more, the shake-or-stir debate has raged among martini drinkers. But lately it seems that the current is running strongly in the stirring direction.

In their cause, shakers do get to quote James Bond, who liked his martinis shaken "until ice-cold." Unfortunately, Bond is a dubious authority. In

Casino Royale

, he asked for his martini to be served "in a deep Champagne goblet," instead of a martini glass, which makes him sound pretty much like a pretentious phony.

No offense, 007. I'm just saying.

Shaking has had its recent vogue. In the last several years, Tokyo has become a center for cutting-edge mixology. Tokyo bartenders have developed a unique style of mixing that involves shaking the cocktail very vigorously, back and forth as well as up and down. Many Americans have been impressed with the Japanese method. But some are coming around to stirring.

"When I was in Tokyo, I liked the way Japanese bartenders would shake martinis," confesses David Myers, owner of Sona in Hollywood and Comme Ca in West Hollywood, Calif., "but Sammy (consulting bartender Sam Ross) has converted me. He says stirring blends the alcohols better - instead of a rapid shake, which emulsifies, there's just a delicate blending. You can see the alcohols come together."

The difference sounds a little obscure, and so does the conventional explanation that shaking "bruises the gin." It's hard to see how a liquid could be bruised, except emotionally. (Nobody seems to worry that vodka might get bruised. In any case, martini mavens insist that the vodka martini is an abomination - another error Bond has to take responsibility for. )

Still, stir-ophiles clearly feel that shaking does some kind of harm to the drink. To some, it's that the liquor is diluted with ice water. Others may be thinking of the faintly cloudy look of a shaken martini. Perhaps they call it bruising because the cloudiness symbolizes whatever injury they find in the taste of the cocktail.

Why does shaking make a drink cloudy? Cocktail expert Gary Regan says in

The Joy of Mixology (

Clarkson Potter) that a shaken drink is colder, so some compounds in the vermouth may emerge from solution and form tiny droplets, a phenomenon known as chill haze. However, he says this would have been more noticeable in the 19th-century martini, which was often equal parts gin and vermouth, than in modern martinis, which can be as much as 9:1 gin. For the record, Regan thinks there is nothing wrong with a cloudy martini except for its appearance.

David Wondrich, author of the cocktail history

Imbibe!

(Perigee Trade), offers another explanation: "Shaking introduces a plethora of tiny bubbles that disrupt the silken, thick texture that results from stirring." In effect, shaking aerates the martini and gives it a faint sting, like very fine carbonation.

Among bartenders it is a settled conclusion that shaking is the only way to mix cocktails containing ingredients that are hard to mix with liquor, such as eggs, dairy products and fruit juices. The question is whether shaking is wrong for other kinds of drinks, in particular the martini.

It's guaranteed to get the drink good and cold. "Shaking makes a colder martini," says bartender Mark Sandstrom of Nic's Martini Lounge in Beverly Hills. "Most people want a martini to be cold, so we shake."

As it happens, Wondrich has a few more facts to throw into the mix. Although most modern bartenders believe in stirring, he says, this orthodoxy appears to have been established no earlier than the 1910s. Before that, there were plenty of martini recipes that called for shaking.

Wondrich adds, "It was not entirely a disinterested development on the bartenders' part, though - it was the style, at the time, to make drinks with 'sprezzatura,' to appear to expend the minimum effort possible, and since proper stirring involves only the muscles of the wrist, this was the dominant technique."

The sprezzatura ideal of careless grace arose in Renaissance Italy, and the aim of making hard things look easy has never wholly lost its appeal since. It tends to run in cycles - "hot" jazz with wild solos alternating with "cool" jazz making complex music subtly. Among bartenders of a hundred years ago, this cult of understated grace was a reaction against the garish theatrics of the previous generation's bartenders.

If you want the maximum of sprezzatura, the traditional bar spoon, with its twisted handle, is the ultimate tool. You can just roll the handle between your thumb and forefinger, so that the bowl of the spoon not only turns in the glass but rises and sinks.

Back in the '80s, there was a revival of flashy mixing techniques, but nearly 20 years have passed since Tom Cruise preened and poured in

Cocktail

, and elegance seems to have made a comeback.

So maybe it's time to chill. The times, they apparently are a-stirring.

Makes 1 serving

21/2 ounces gin

1/2 ounce dry vermouth

1 pimento-stuffed olive

1. Stir the gin and vermouth with ice for 25 to 30 seconds.

2. Strain into a chilled martini glass. Add the olive garnish.

Note:

Regan advises that if you are using one of the very dry and perfumed gins, such as Plymouth, Junipero, Tanqueray or Beefeater, you may want to increase the proportion of vermouth slightly.