The Seattle Martini Competition

Never heard of the International Martini Challenge or the original Seattle Martini Competition? Then sip an icy classic and read our account of the 1996 Seattle Martini Competition which appeared in the original Shaken Not StirredÂ® web site as well as an interview with the competition's originator and reports from the two International Martini Challenges in which we were (gulp) judges.

THE 1996 SEATTLE MARTINI COMPETITION

THEY CHOSE THEIR WEAPONS-- shakers at 10 paces -- and the duel commenced. We're not talking about some watered down well-brands splashing across freezer-burned ice here. These are the heavyweights of mixology. . .

Anyone who missed the FIFTH ANNUAL SEATTLE MARTINI COMPETITION can console themselves with the knowledge that there's only about 363 days left until it happens again.

REPORT FROM THE FRONT

We arrived at the Mayflower Park Hotel at 4 PM: just enough time to sample a little of Seattle's more famous beverage--the Latte. Sufficiently caffeinated we headed upstairs, slipped into our formals (funny how Martinis always taste better when you're dressed in full penguin attire), and returned to join the gathering crowd. And what a crowd! It began as somewhat less than fifty, winding up as the night progressed to a few hundred.

But by 6 PM the crowd of judges, VIPs, and onlookers had hit critical mass and we piled out onto the sidewalk where a string of stretch limos were waiting to cart us from venue to venue. Mayflower Park GM Marc Nowak played matchmaker, filling each limo with just the right mix of people.

First stop was the METROPOLITAN GRILL, a crowded, raucous restaurant and bar that drew the youngest and liveliest patrons. The Martinis rolled out with a little more flair than fastidious care. No slouches, but they could use a brush up on the higher levels of Martini Zen.

The GARDEN COURT at the Four Seasons won our hearts by capturing the spirit of the evening with a trio of trumpets heralding our arrival and departure with a fanfare usually reserved for royalty or racehorses. We arrived ahead of the pack, to watch the line-up of bartenders re-checking their speedracks, perhaps a little nervous about springing a Belvedere Vodka Martini on the crowd as their classic, and a vodka/Calvados combination topped with a Calvados-marinated cherry as their specialty. While the classic was liquid velvet, the specialty was reminiscent of a really good vintage of Robitussin. Nonetheless, they lived up to their five-star rating for service.

The PALACE KITCHEN seemed a little unprepared for the onslaught on top of their crowded Friday-night business. Before they could roll out the first round we were already sipping some very fine cabernet (one of the Four Seasons' bartenders had a corkscrew handy, and. . . well. . .. we were standing in the midst of their wine cellar.) But then came the Martinis!...A beautiful Bombay Sapphire Classic was followed by a Stoli and Goldschlager special. We highly recommend their specialty Martini. It was the essence of Autumn.

OLIVER'S at the Mayflower Park Hotel is a sophisticated room reminiscent of the finest London men's club. Mike the Bartender could've passed for Tom Cruise's stunt double in Cocktail. Bottles, shakers, ice, glasses and garnish whizzed back and forth behind the bar at a rate that probably rendered them invisible to the already anesthetized judges. (Being there to bring you all the blow-by-blow, I clenched my teeth and refrained, letting Anistatia play the role of designated drinker of the evening.) From the sounds of approval around me, I knew I had to try the 3-to-1-proportioned classic. Superb! There was Sapphire, with vermouth warming it around the edges, and the best olives I'd ever tasted. But what made it so good was that a certain flavor was missing. When I later cornered Marc Nowak and confronted him on their secret, he confessed (don't worry Marc, I won't reveal the secret). And what a secret! I'll give you a hint, they're really careful about what goes into the shaker.

Then it was back to the mezzanine (a real challenge for the more impaired members of the entourage; fortunately most of them were spending the night in the Mayflower Park or the Four Seasons), for more cocktails while we waited for the results to be tallied.

THE 1996 WINNERS WERE

BEST LOUNGE: The Garden Court at the Four Seasons (dark wood, high ceilings, huge windows, very elegant).

BEST MARTINI FOOD: The Garden Court at the Four Seasons (prawn and fresh corn chimichanga, with a tomatillo salsa, served in a double Martini glass).

BEST SPECIALTY MARTINI: Oliver's at The Mayflower Park (Stoli Cristall, Campari, Casa Bella -- an Italian citrus liqueur--garnished with a kumquat).

BEST CLASSIC MARTINI: Oliver's at The Mayflower Park (3 to 1 Bombay Sapphire, Martini and Rossi Dry; garnished with two vermouth-marinated olives).

OUR OWN WINNING CATEGORIES:

PEOPLE TO PARTY WITH: The staff from Metropolitan Grill. They put up a marvelous spread, and the trays of Martinis kept on coming. But they were more fun once they put the trays down and joined the party.

BEST DRESSED SIPPER: Stephanie Ager of Ager Associates, looking -- in an ivory shift and fox boa -- like Dashiell Hammett was her wardrobe consultant.

MOST LOVABLE LUSH: a tie between Doug 'Bix' Biederbecke, who propped himself up in a corner of each room, smile on face and Martini in hand, and Joan--the Voice of Seattle--who, after 8 Martinis, shifted seamlessly to autopilot without missing a beat.

BEST SPECIALTY GARNISH: a grilled apple slice, in a Vodka and Goldschlager Martini at the Palace Kitchen. Looked like a zucchini slice, it was such a pleasant surprise to discover it wasn't. Better than mom's apple pie with twice the kick.

BEST CLASSIC GARNISH: huge olives at the Mayflower Park, imported from Italy, then marinated on-premises in vermouth for months.

BEST LIMO MATE: Jamie Wilson from Bartender Magazine who kept us all full of good cheer, wrangled special-order Martinis at one stop, and tried out every button in the back of the limo.

FIRST RESTAURANT WE'LL GO TO WHEN WE'RE IN SEATTLE: a tie between Palace Grill and Andaluca at the Mayflower Park. Don't miss either of them.

EPILOGUE:

So there we were at three in the morning, crossing the border from Washington state into British Columbia. The customs officer waived us through without a second look. Guess she remembered us. Or maybe it was just because she couldn't wait to see what the police at the roadblock a hundred yards further would make of a couple of people in full formal dress heading north with a pile of party Polaroids scattered across the back seat.

"Great outfits!" the officer remarked as she flashed her light across the photos, "Just get married?"

"No," I replied glancing furtively at the line of cars they'd already impounded that night, "we were just at the Seattle Martini Competition."

She didn't even need to ask. She just raised an eyebrow, "And?"

"A sip, hours before I got behind the wheel. No more. She," I gestured toward Anistatia, "got to be designated drinker for the night."

One thought went through my mind as we passed the line-up of cars that didn't clear the roadblock: Occasional sobriety does have its advantages! Never did find out if we could rent a breathalyzer for our next party.

AN INTERVIEW WITH MARC NOWAK

Never heard of the International Martini Challenge or the original Seattle Martini Competition? Then sip an icy classic and read an interview with its founder, Marc Nowak, who explains how it all got started.

SNS [Shaken Not Stirred]:

So, why a Martini competition?

NOWAK:

Here's the whole story: six years ago, there was this place down the street named Vaughn's that had a giant banner on it which said "BEST MARTINIS IN TOWN." Our customers would walk in and say: 'No, their Martinis are terrible, yours are much better.' Anyway, we challenged them. We told them we thought ours were much better. Well, they wouldn't play! I guess they didn't want to lose their banner. I mean, they already had it. So we challenged them in the press. They still wouldn't play.

By this time we had all this momentum going, so we decided to make it an open challenge. Boy, we got takers. The Four Seasons was in there in about two seconds, the Met Grill which is still part of the competition was another first challenger. Plus, we had a bunch of other restaurants. We narrowed it down by reputation and taste tests, figuring we could manage five, which was a mistake, and ended up cutting it down to four the year afterwards. And it's just grown from there. The first time, we had 60 people, this time there'll be hundreds. And it's turned into a very black-tie affair. It's a riot!

SNS:

What's your favorite Martini?

NOWAK:

The classic. I'm a purist. It has to be gin. And it has to be Sapphire, actually.

SNS:

What about the vermouth?

NOWAK:

Martini and Rossi. But Very little. Swirl it around the shaker, dump out the excess then add the ice.

SNS:

Olives or twist?

NOWAK:

Olives. Olives marinated in vermouth, as opposed to oil or anything else. We ship them in from Italy.

SNS:

So you're serious about this?

NOWAK:

Very serious. Is there anything more important in life?

SNS:

What's better than a Martini?

NOWAK:

Nothing! (laughs) Well, that's not quite true. Depends on what it's paired with.

SNS:

What do you attribute the Martini's rise in popularity to?

NOWAK:

Two things. There's a lack of romance in our culture today. We spend so much time working and running from one place to another, that by the time you're done you've forgotten what it's all about. Chivalry gives way to equality and everybody becomes a unit. The Martini goes back to an age when romance was good. Opening doors for people, lighting someone's cigarette, whatever. Those were the things that went with Martinis, and they still do. It brings back that era.

Second, it's pure. It's not that foo-foo stuff that baby boomers drank just after college. It comes in a glass that you can't slam on the bar twice and then shoot it. It's a very elegant drink. It's something you sip. It's a matter of taste. And we're growing up.

SNS:

Remember your first?

NOWAK:

Yeah, it was right here, six years ago. I'd never had one, asked the bartender to make one for me, and that was it. I was hooked. I think I'd drink a Martini with dinner if it went with steak better.

SNS:

That's the tough part, pairing it with food.

NOWAK:

Wait 'til you see what we've come up with. We're serving a tower of seared Ahi tuna marinated in soy, topped with caviar. Beluga with a Martini is really hard to beat.

SNS:

What's the most unusual place you've ever had a Martini?

NOWAK:

At a vintage car race in Monterey. Somebody came up with this beautiful box, pulled out a shaker and glasses and started going for it. It was wonderful, standing there sipping, watching these vintage Bugattis whipping around the track.

SNS:

So with all the variations, when is a Martini no longer a Martini?

NOWAK:

A Martini is a Martini. People are saying now, that if it can be served in a Martini glass, it's a Martini. I don't know if I really agree with that, but we use it as the rule for the specialty category, and leave it to the judges to decide. There have been times when they've said: No, that's not a Martini.

SNS:

Any good Martini stories?

NOWAK:

Nothing printable. But here goes. The Martini has a way of making instant friends out of people, some of whom become, uh, more than friends. We had an incident [at the competition] the year before last where right out in front of the building, this couple. . . in front of all of us. Then a guy walked into a wall, apologized to it, and walked away.

Another time, this couple were sitting at the bar. She was having a Martini, he was drinking a beer, I think. This other woman came in, and the two ladies began to argue. The first one stood up, poured her Martini down the other woman's blouse and stormed out, with the man following close behind. They were still arguing outside. I overheard him saying something like: I've put those clothes on your back, at which point she started taking them off, right in the street; and in nothing but her underwear she marched down the street. All over a Martini, and straight out of a Fellini movie.

THE FIRST INTERNATIONAL MARTINI CHALLENGE (1999):

REPORT FROM THE FIELD

The First International Martini Challenge (1999): Report from the Field

Veni, Vidi, Victuals (We came, we saw, we consumed)

It was a 12-hour drive from Boise, Idaho, through snow, sleet, wind, and rain (not to mention some amazing scenery) to arrive at the starting point of the First International Martini Classic Challenge. Admittedly, we detoured to Powell's Books, in Portland, to buy every classic bartending book they had in stock. (It's a personal obsesssion.)

We arrived at the Mayflower Park Hotel in Seattle on Thursday: the day before the competition. It was a good thing we did. Early Friday morning one of the judges fell ill and the call went up, "Is there a drinker in the house?!"

"Why yes," I said, stepping forward, "I'm a drinker."

With that, I was dually deputized and mantled with an official opinion about the entries. Suddenly, all those years of mixing and sampling Martinis, those years spent in hotel school, all the late nights of partying, took on a higher meaning. My own personal bar of dreams!

The competition, as in previous years when it was the Seattle Martini Challenge, had three categories: the Classic Martini, the Specialty Martini, and the Martini Appetizer. With four Vancouver venues and four Seattle venues vying for the bragging rights, this was going to be a competition to remember.

At noon, the US Martini judges, organizers, and assorted VIPs gathered in the hotel lobby. Then we piled onto the Martini Express: a cush coach outfitted with video monitors and a super stereo. (The bus was a great idea in Washington state, where the .08 blood alcohol limit for DUI is posted on the roadsides next to the speed limits. And not once did we see an "unless otherwise posted" notation.). We alternated between Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra tracks as well as the film Breakfast at Tiffany's. Before long, we cossed the border and headed for downtown Vancouver.

Ah, winter in the northwest. True to form, it had knocked out power to Vancouver's southern suburbs, including the traffic lights. By the time we arrived at the magnificent Hotel Vancouver, we needed a drink. (Un)fortunately, there was no shortage. Our suite had a welcome basket filled with cocktail glasses, a beautifully engraved shaker, a bottle of Finlandia, and a bottle of Beefeaters. Just the thing before a night of it.

As the competition is definitely a black-tie affair, we donned our formal-wear. (The only trouble with black tie affairs is tying that damned bow tie. But that's another story.)

First stop was Delilah's, a posh little West End place festooned with curtained booths, lots of candles, decent food, and a fifteen-year reputation for great Martinis. Luckily, the manager didn't remember throwing Anistatia and I out a few years back. (We'd met some people at the bar while we were waiting for a table; by the time one came up we were all having too much fun to take a table and getting far too loud to stay where we were. Funny part is, we were there to review the restaurant for Frommer's. We had to come back a few days later in disguise to get our review done. But I'm rambling. Back to the story...)

Though the Martinis were excellent, the hit at Delilah's was the presentation. A crew of regular customers in full drag stepped behind the bar to pour the specialty Martini.

From there, it was on to the oak-panelled Gerard's Lounge in the four-star Sutton Place Hotel. The classic Martini--made with Chivas instead of vermouth--was deliciously dry and smoky. Although the other judges didn't seem to appreciate its virtues as traditional. The specialty Martini--filled with 24-carat gold dust, might've inspired me to go prospecting--but I'm married. Between the classic and the specialty, an unexpected Martini arrived. It was a Martini glass filled with "Martini" aspic, garnished with what appeared to be a whole black truffle in place of the olive, pierced by a toothpick-thin crisp breadstick. However, one bite revealed another surprise. The truffle was a ball of melt-on-the-tongue patÃ© de fois gras rolled in ground truffle. This appeared to be a sure winner for best food. But we still had six stops to go.

Next was Joe Fortes Seafood Bar & Grill. Filled with dark wood, brass, and business suits, it's Vancouver's equivalent of a rowdy Wall Street bar. The kind of place where the young and blond meet the rich and powerful over fresh oysters and frosted Martinis. Again, the classic was classic. (Although one judge later muttered about a distinct lack of vermouth in most of the classics we tasted). To serve the specialty Martini, the bartenders set up a Martini glass pyramid, which came crashing down as they poured. In a great show of heart and chutzpah, they immediately set up another, and pulled it off flawlessly (much to the relief of the slightly soggy judges seated at ground zero who by this time looked a bit like the front row at a Blue Man Group encore). Though they didn't win in the end, two judges I spoke to thought their battered tiger prawns with vermouth aoli deserved the trophy.

One of the majestic Canadian Pacific Railroad hotels, the Hotel Vancouver welcomed judges and spectators into 900 West: their elegant restaurant which was added as part of a recent $7 million renovation. On its presentation alone, their specialty Martini had the markings of a winner. A foot tall Martini glass carved out of ice, filled with dry ice. Into that, a bowl with more dry ice. Into that, a stemless Martini glass. Into that a mixture of Bombay Sapphire, ice wine (dessert wine similar to a moscato), and a touch of calvados, garnished with frozen grapes.

When the awards were presented in the Hotel Van's rooftop room, Gerard's took the honors for their classic and their food, and the Hotel Vancouver for their specialty Martini. And the Seattle barmen who'd been there to size up the new competition took to the road early, racing back to Seattle to re-work their recipes. We, on the other hand, hopped off the elevator on the 12th floor to see if we'd encounter the Hotel Van's famed resident ghost: the lady in red. (We never did encounter the spectral femme fatale, but we managed to scare ourselves silly just the same.)

Maybe it was the lime drops and Margaritas at the after-party party, or the sake and Sapporo beer at Gyoza King after that, but with barely four hours scheduled for sleep, we were in agony Saturday morning: just in time for a morning Martini whipped up by Billy and Monica from 900 West on a live radio show. Normally we shun the concept of "hair of the dog" and take our pain with honor. But with a whole bus ride to sleep it off (minus a cigar stop at duty-free), we opted out of our hangovers.

Despite the addition of the Canadian judges to the entourage, the Martini Express was a lot quieter on the return trip, aside from a quick cigar and liquor stop at Duty Free. (Can you believe some of these people bought more booze, including ourselves!). Soon we were back in Seattle traffic, and finally back to the Mayflower Park Hotel with time enough to shower, relax, and dress for the evening.

First stop was the Metropolitan Grill, Seattle's premiere dark-wood-panelled steak joint. The bar area was dominated by an Absolut ice sculpture. Shaking and pouring like a precision drill team the Met's white-jacketed bartenders, led by Mike Beaver, served a Millennium Martini with Meyer lemon infused vodka, ice wine, and a splash of gin.

In the Garden Court at the Four Seasons Olympic, bartender Mike Vezzoni descended from the ceiling on a hydrolic lift: a single spotlight setting his red sequined top hat and tux ablaze with sparkles. "Tonight's judges," he announced, "will receive monogrammed floor-length Four Season's terrycloth robes. We don't want you to think of this as a gift, we'd like you to think of this as a bribe." For a brief moment, I felt like a member of the International Olympic Committee. But after half a dozen venues, we knew the drill and the judging seemed as impartial as ever. The Garden Court's main score for the evening would emerge in the food category. The trick to pairing food with Martinis is finding something that will penetrate anesthetized taste buds without overpowering the cocktail. They succeeded with a seafood trio: a kumamoto oyster topped with salmon tartare; dungeness crab with lemon remoulade; and granny smith apple slivers and caviar wrapped in smoked sturgeon.

Jeremiah Tower's Stars Bar and Dining is a lush cream and artwork space located on the top floor of Seattle's Pacific Place shopping mall. Looking like a benevolent Bond villain in a green Commes des Garcons suit, Jeremiah Tower personally greeted us at the top of the escalator. (He had the pose down so perfectly, I was surprised to find out later that he didn't own the whole building.) Beside him was the best-dressed Martini we'd ever seen. She was wearing a tight dark velvet evening dress with a Martini glass shaped top, and an olive-and-toothpick chapeau.

Arriving back at the Mayflower Park Hotel, we were greeted by fans like a trophy-winning football team at homecoming as we disembarked the bus and entered the hotel's famed Edwardian-style lounge, Oliver's. The judge next to me must've liked the specialty Martini. After tasting it hesitantly, he downed three of them in rapid succession. (Note: He did end up draped over a gumball machine later that night at a local disco, before we peeled him and off and dragged him back in a cab to the hotel.)

The food entry at Oliver's--artfully arranged devilled eggs--was a stark contrast to the other venues. It was hard to tell if it was a statement about the business-class 1950s heyday of the Martini when bars offered pickled eggs in huge glass jars, or a white flag raised toward the other venues' food entries. But then, Olivers built its reputation on its winning classic and specialty Martinis, and this year's cocktails were no exception.

When the American and Canadian judges votes were tallied, Oliver's took the Seattle classic Martini award for the sixth time; won the international award for best classic; and tied for the best specialty Martini in Seattle. The Hotel Vancouver took the International specialty Martini trophy. The Mayflower Park, as host hotel, rolled out platter after platter of fabulous hors d'ouerves at the awards reception, along with (believe it or not) more Martinis.

Why on earth did we feel like going out afterwards? Who knows. We started with appetizers and cocktails (Martinis, naturally) at the Ruins, a cool private supper club. Then we somehow found the Green Door, where the music was loud and the dance floor was packed. In fact, we were dancing so close that the next morning, a few of us discovered we'd switched name badges. Explain that one to friends and colleagues without using the words "I'm not sure how, but..."

THE SECOND INTERNATIONAL MARTINI CLASSIC CHALLENGE (2000)

One was not enough. The Second International Martini Classic Challenge took place 25-26 February 2000, pitting Seattle against Vancouver.

NIGHT ONE

The Vancouver Show

Gerard Lounge, at the Sutton Place Hotel became Rick's American CafÃ© for the night. Monitors around the room showed scenes from Casablanca while Sam played the classics on their baby grand. There was even a little bloodshed: Someone dropped a cocktail onto the piano and Sam cut a finger on one of the shards. But the show went on. Their classic, with Bombay Sapphire and a hint of scotch got less recognition than it deserved, as did their Marrakech Express with its double-dipped golden gooseberry garnish, orange dust rim, and spun-sugar minaret. The food, presented atop and under an inverted Martini glass, was Risotto Fois Gras Crab Cakes with Curried Mango Salad.

Cin Cin on Robson St was this year's Vancouver newcomer to the Challenge. It was a shame to see Vancouver's hottest Trattoria succumb to the first year curse and go empty handed when the ballots were counted. The martinis were prepared by Robert Stelmachuk, the manager, a former liquor salesman who mixed a mean one but lacked a little of the showy finesse and reverence for the Martini that was so apparent elsewhere. They definitely stole the award for best spectator buffet, with a spread of raw oysters and other goodies for people watching the event, while the judges were served a "Beggar's Purse" of hand-sliced, house cured salmon with a citrus ceviche of black bass and osetra caviar with a Jerusalem artichoke crisp.

At Delilah's, the HM the Queen her/himself treated the crowd to a peek inside royal life (HM's wave, for instance is "tiara, teeth, tits...tits, teeth, tiara!"), before pulling out an atomizer of vermouth to mist each of the classic martinis. The judges and crowd were stunned when they served them in 24oz glasses. But it worked. They took best classic in Vancouver,and it was well-deserved. Had we returned at the end of the night to finish our cocktails, we were certain they'd still be ice cold in those frosted monstrosities. Had we known at the time that our favorite Samosa baker was out of business we definitely would've ordered a few extras of their curried beef samosas to go. Unofficial award: first specialty Martini so smooth that a judge lost track and finished it! (Note: when you're tasting eight Martinis in a night AND going to a party afterwards, the only way to survive is to avoid finishing any of the Martinis.)

It was Hollywood North at 900 West in the Hotel Vancouver. Marilyn and Austin Powers were just two of the celebrity look-a-likes greeting the crowd. Chef Dino Reanarts personally picked up the shaker, and the prize for best specialty martini, finished with a splash of flaming Cointreau. I guess we were wrong. You can set a Martini on fire after all! Unofficial awards: Best car, for the little Mercedes 250SL parked in the lobby right outside the restaurant, and best Martini glass (at $95!) for their tall hand-blown specialty glass (a glass so beautiful that one judge actually begged to keep it).

Taking our hangovers and heading south for:

NIGHT TWO

The Seattle Show

"Okay everyone," said organizer Stephanie Ager as we finished at Met Grill, the first venue of the night, "Let's all leave the way we came in."

"I'm afraid that's impossible," I replied.

"Why's that?"

"I came in sober!"

Seattle's best steakhouse, The Metropolitan Grill, came up with two of the best cocktails of the competition (IMHO). Their classic was comprised of Junipero gin from San Francisco, and King Eider vermouth from the NapaValley, garnished with a trio of frozen olives ranging up the pick in size order from jumbo to small. Their specialty, a Truffletini, was a slightly savory French-black-truffle-infused Absolut vodka, with truffle-infused vermouth, garnished with a freshly-shaved slice of black truffle.

The Garden Court in the Four Seasons Olympic Hotel kicked off their presentation with a full trumpet fanfare. However, bartender Mike Vezzoni decided not to repeat his big entrance (last year he was lowered from the ceiling on a hydrolic lift wearing a red sequined top hat and tails). They rolled out Van Gogh gin for their classic, and put together a delicious blend of grappa, creme de cassis, Chambord, Bombay Sapphire gin, and Grey Goose vodka for their specialty, dubbed the Ultraviolet Martini. Their food accompaniment was a sublime Tuna Tartare with Duck Liver SautÃ©e, topped with a fried quail egg, served with a Wasabi Lobster Salad.

Earth and Ocean in Seattle's new W Hotel may not have taken a prize when the judging was finished, but they certainly deserved two: Best Show, for their over-the-top Hollywood meets The Matrix set-up, and best food for their crisp rolled potato draped with smoked salmon, creme fraiche, and caviar (I have to go back and order this next time I'm in Seattle!!!). The models, lights, video monitors, and cordless headsets so the judges could hear the bartenders were all overkill, but what cool overkill it was. These people sure know how to throw a party. The cocktails were good, but the classic was straight gin or vodka rather than a proper Martini, with a selection of do-it-yourself garnishes on the side, and the specialty was a lemon-drop with a "secret ingredient" which seemed to be a splash of orange juice.

I could've sworn I heard a few A-Men's and Halleluah's from the crowd while Steve Burney preached his gospel of the Martini at Oliver's in the Mayflower Park Hotel. It was a real Elmer Gantry brings the house down sermon on exactly what a good Martini is, how it's made, and why it's made. He laid down the Cocktail Commandments while he paced back and forth behind the bar, cutting straight through the alcohol haze that'd built up on the crowd over the course of the three previous venues. Then he proceeded to serve a simple Bombay Sapphire Martini, in a flute-slender Judel Martini glass with two olives speared by a clear pick balanced on the rim. He poured across the olives to add a little brine, but kept them out of the drink so they wouldn't dominate it.

AND THE WINNERS:

VANCOUVER

Best Classic Martini - Delilah's

Best Specialty Martini - 900 West in the Hotel Vancouver

Best Martini Food - Gerard in the Sutton Place Hotel

SEATTLE

Best Classic Martini - Oliver's

Best Specialty Martini - The Metropolitan Grill

Best Martini Food - The Garden Court in the Four Seasons Olympic Hotel

INTERNATIONAL

Best Classic Martini - Oliver's

Best Specialty Martini - 900 West in the Hotel Vancouver

Best Martini Food - The Garden Court in the Four Seasons Olympic Hotel

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Sunday, April 10, 2005

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