My idea of wisdom is knowing better than to judge how somebody orders their martini*.
Its a deeply personal thing.
Among the most classic of classic stirred-up cocktails, the martini has perhaps the mostforgiving dress codeof any.
Theres no need to be sheepish.
This one is akin to a fraternal twin, and her name is Gibson.
Shes a martini with a cocktail onion, and she is spectacular.
I met the Gibson at the tail end of my own preferential martini evolution.
Since I can remember having taste buds, I have loved all things briney and sour.
I would eat them with a grapefruit spoon until a pile of ravaged rind carcasses were all that remained.
You know, so she can dunk her extra sour Warheads in it, obviously.
(I shudder to speculate on the state of our enamel.)
When I finally came across a Gibson, I was intrigued and delighted.
The Gibson, on the other hand, seemed to hit all points with aplomb.
Vinegary, salty, a touch sweetand whats more Balkan than eating an onion while sipping on booze?
I was in love.
But I was also in a pickle, because good cocktail onions are astonishingly hard to find.
Or, worst of all, tizzed out and mushy.
It breaks my heart, and I just cant abide most of whats available on the shelves.
So I started making my own Gibson onions, achieving a final product that pleases me greatly.
I even think my sister would love them, but Im afraid to ship a jar to California.
(Is vinegar combustible?)
Either way, I wont judge your martini if you dont judge my Gibson.
Ingredients (everything is to taste, so trust your palate):
Pack of pearl onions.
Not too tiny, but not too bigbetween a marble and golf ball.
How many are youwilling to peel?
A little bit of it.
Mix that shit up.
(But balsamic can fuck right off.
It has no business here.
Apple Cider, too.
Love you, but not now.)
Basically, I used what I had on hand.
Yknow: coriander seeds, couple of cloves, a bay leaf, and some black peppercorn.
Mustard seeds are cool.
So are dill seeds.
Because we need to care about our esophagus and stomach lining.
Mix the vinegar, salt, and sugar together.
Heat if needed to help the solutes dissolve.
Once youve achieved a balance that you like, add a little water to cut the astringency.
Why are we doing this?
(Anymore, and we venture into mush territory.)
Drain into a colander and then submerge in icy water.
Trim the root end off, and pull the top end so the skin comes off like a sleeve.
Place pearl onions in an airtight container, pour your brine mixture on top, and seal shut.
Place in the refrigerator and wait 24-48 hours.
Stir for about 25-30 seconds, then strain into a chilled coupe.
Garnish with as many cocktail onions as youd like.
*The only martini I have ever judged.
Made by my aforementioned sister:
