Tini Time

Second Thursday

Ode to: Lyrical meditations (or unhinged babbling) about my current food, drink, and nutrition obsessions.

My late teens and early 20s were marked by whatever alcohol I could get my hands on. Random blue alcohol, Mike’s Hard, and then my friend group eventually fell into Jack Daniel’s Honey Whiskey. When I went to graduate school in the South, I met people who drank as a lifestyle and found out cold Gin hit perfectly on a porch in a rocking chair. I met her first, classically—in a regular G&T, but over time, she has become my preference.

Maybe it’s because I am once again too Saturnian for this world, but no one in my local orbit seems to vibe with her the way I do. It’s an “old person’s drink,” they say as they reach for some flashy, twirling diva, like Tequila. I suffer through it, especially with my family, but loving gin is just another symbol of my black-sheepness and otherwordly taste.

In this season of my Saturn return, I’ve taken quite fondly to gin martinis. I like the way they suit my different moods.

Managing and getting by? Perfect with a twist.

Feeling flirty? A rare spot of joy? One of her sweet cousins, like a lemon drop or a French martini, will do just fine.

Tax season? Bad sleep? Therapy isn’t for another few days? Pour it real dirty and add a blue cheese olive, please.

All of the typical stereotypes about martinis are pulled straight from Sex and the City, Vogue’s Drink of the Year, and eons of white women representation dominating the media. Yes, I like the mouth feel of saying dirty martini. I enjoy giving off the simple air of sophistication and mystery to those who dare to stare or wish to know. And yes, behind all of that in a chilled glass, I’m simply a freak, a whore, and a bitch at heart. If I somehow make it outside, I’m also known to be quite chatty, and a sipping cocktail is great for conversation with strangers (or listening to the sound of my own voice).

I know those characters because they’ve been shoved down my throat by popular culture over time. I’m even fond of some of them, but relating deeper can be hard.

Survival of the Thickest, on the other hand, a Netflix show featuring Michelle Buteau, is highly relatable. It has a mostly Black cast, and one of the supporting characters does actually enjoy martinis. Marley, played by the brilliant Tasha Smith, is a tall and thin, high-powered lawyer who always looks fabulous and dominates white men at her job all day. She walks into rooms cussing people out, and everyone is under her command. Her deep-seated control issues are on full display, but she’s adventurous and learning to embrace vulnerability. She has a soft spot for her friends and melts into a puddle when one of them is in need. She’s also newly queer. In season 2, we learn that her favorite cocktail is an extra dirty martini. As much as it made me smile, so much of Marley’s life is about doing things white men do and “pushing her weight around” in order to achieve unimaginable success. In that sense, it’s not surprising that this image rears its head again. I am not a Marley, but I am one of her broke friends.

So how would I take this classic and make it in my own image? Or at least reshape it for a fat Black femme character who is largely absent from these medias?

I asked the bartender at my new favorite happy hour about a basic martini with sweet vermouth instead of dry. Basically, something called the Martinez. We experimented a bit, and by we I mean I piqued her curiosity and provided sounding board support while she made the magic. This is what we came up with.

The gold color perfectly captures the taste. The sweetness of the vermouth is gentle and ever so subtle. It takes the edge off of the gin so that it goes down even smoother. The bartender threw in the orange twist so that it didn’t feel naked, but depending on your mood, you could add a sweet cherry, too. It still embodies the air of simplicity and luxury, but not without complexity and depth. The character who drinks this can be subtle and contemplative but loves a social summer evening by the fire. She likes simple one-and-done outfits, but just because she’s comfortable doesn’t mean she compromises on style. She always smells good. She enjoys reading and is very observant. She’s introverted, but if she’s out and about she can’t hide from the attention. There’s an endearing mixture of coyness and confidence—like a sweet and salty or sweet and spicy flavor profile. She has a very dark past, and it’s rare that you’ll hear anything about it. So she’s not new to life, but she tries to avoid the jadedness that keeps her from participating in it. She’s neutral. Not tasteless, but she has enough capacity to seek balance and contentment with the truth of the moment. It’s why people like to talk to her and find her approachable. It’s also why she has a hard time letting it all hang out.

That’s all I got from this week’s cocktail, but with time, hopefully, it’ll grow.