The birth (and death?) of the French Onion Martini
Behold, the French Onion Martini. Gin, onion, cheese. A intriguing idea, non?
There aren’t a whole lot of drinks inspired by food — unless you count shooters like the Candy Cane, perhaps. But when Keith pitched Grant on the idea of a “French Onion Martini,” something took hold in both their imaginations. Something overwrought, perhaps, but definitely something.
Keith: “Imagine a French Onion Martini. Gin with those sweet pickled onions, and a layer of melted cheese floating on top.”
Grant: “I love it!”
Amy: “Oh, dear.”
Intrigued? More after the jump — click “Continue!”
Do we have all the ingredients? Here's our martini set-up: gin, vermouth, a shaker, a "shot glass" repurposed from child's cough syrup and two trendy-looking martini glasses. Sexy!
Quickly, it was determined that the challenge would be in choosing what type of cheese we could use, and how best to melt it and float it on top. Discussions ensued. Shredded cheese was probably best. A white cheese, like mozzarella, Havarti or Swiss. Perhaps shredded on top, then melted under the boiler? No, that would heat up the gin and the glass. Perhaps a small blowtorch, like crème brulée? That might heat up the glass, too. Flaming it, like a sambuca shooter? While a flambé drink sounds swell, this wasn’t the right one.
Now, let's French-Onion-ize that sucker!! Cheese? Check. Onions? Check! Grater? Double-check!!
Finally, we decided to shred small circles of cheese on parchment paper, then melt them in the oven and lay them over top of an already-prepared gin-and-onion martini.
We also decided that Amy would have no part in the tasting. She made that quite clear. She and Keith’s wife were content to drink traditionally prepared beverages from a bottle, and to make cutting, sarcastic comments.
Henceforth, how the night went:
“Do you have a shot glass?”
“Um, how about a tablespoon? Or, here, a medicine cup that measures in drams.”
“What’s a dram?”
In this picture, you can't see the little floaty things that were in the vermouth. Grant convinced Keith that they were like the sediment in a finely aged bottle of wine, but he doesn't really know. He just made that up.
“How much vermouth in a martini?”
“Rotten wine, I think. At least, that’s what it is to me.”
First, we went for the mozzarella, an easy-shredding cheese that was soft and tasty.
“What kind of cheese do we use first?”
“Let’s try the mozzarella.”
“Ok, how much?”
“More … more … more … Amy stop eating our cheese.”
Okay, that looks like enough cheese. Two flat, round piles of shredded mozzarella. Let's put it in!
Meanwhile, as the cheese cooked, Grant poured gin -- with a hint of vermouth, then shaken, not stirred -- into the glasses, readying the drinks for their covering crown of cheese.
Here it comes!
That's some great-looking melted cheese there, Lou!
“How are we going to get the cheese on top of the martini?”
“Layer it? Like with a spatula?”
“I’ve got lots of spatulas — it’s Spatula City in here.”
“ahem.”
Now that is how it's done! Keith layers the cheese gently on top of the gin. We had to let the cheese harden slightly from the oven, but it was still flexible enough to coat the gin completely, floating on top like the melted cheese in, well, French Onion Soup!
Ta-dah!
Now that is a great-looking French Onion Martini!
One for each of us!
"Cheers, buddy!"
Problems begin to arise.
“Um, how do you drink this thing? There’s cheese in the way.”
“With a straw?”
“I did think about toothpicks.”
“Wait, I think the cheese made a tunnel for the gin to escape.”
The first sip! The inaugural sip!
And the verdict is...?
“Wow, that’s just like drinking straight gin.”
“You do know what a martini is, right?”
“But the cheese, it does nothing!”
“It gets in the way.”
“I think you have to nibble it.”
“Maybe roll it up and use it as a straw.”
This is not a dainty drink. The French Onion Martini should not be served at black-tie events, except for laughs.
“There’s something wrong with my drink … it’s changing colour, sort of.”
“Yeah, mine too. It’s all cloudy.”
“Gross.”
Keith and Grant marvel at the science of cheese making gin cloudy.
“This is all wrong. The cheese tastes like all the worst parts of gin and the gin tastes like all the worst of cheese.”
“There are no bad parts to cheese.”
“Okay, but it still doesn’t taste too good.”
“Fair enough. Chug it down and we’ll try the Swiss …”
The onions were the best part -- but that's not really saying much.
The scorched parchment paper can attest to the fact that Swiss melts at a higher temperature than mozzarella. Or maybe it was just because we re-used the same parchment paper. Either way, the Swiss has a completely different texture than the mozzarella. It was firmer and less rubbery, yet still flexible.
The lovely Swiss cheese melted to a fetching golden hue and, much like the mozzarella, looked divine in its melted patty form. When the second round of French Onion Martinis were assembled using the Swiss cheese, it was discovered that there was no cloudiness and very little cheese absorption of gin, or “ginsorption,” or whatever.
With it's fine latticework, Swiss is a much prettier cheese to layer on top of gin. The taste, too, seemed better able to withstand the gin assault. Plus, it didn't go all rubbery and slimy and gross, like the mozzarella.
One of us showed more enthusiasm for Round 2 than the other one. Remember, each martini was almost pure gin! Two ounces each -- that's 16 drams! Plus just a couple drops of vermouth, and two cocktail onions. And the delicious cheese.
Although the taste of the Swiss version of this ground-breaking beverage was superior to the first attempt, at least one of the testers was unable to finish the last of his drink.
The sad, lonely remains of the last of the martinis. No, it doesn't look appetizing, but it was perhaps the first step in a long process of refining. I mean, come on! Cheese and alcohol!
In the end, reactions to the French Onion Martini were inconclusive.
The beveragologists express their inability to draw any firm conclusions on the viability of the French Onion Martini.
Down, but not out, Grant and Keith have cooked up plans for many more food experiments. Get it? They’ve “cooked up” plans? Funny, right?
Tune in next week (or thereabouts) to see what our heroes eat — or drink — next!
Plus, are you inspired to try unique and unusual food pairings? Have you got a great idea for a food or a drink that your girlfriend just won’t let you do in her kitchen? Drop us a line in the comments! We’ve iron stomachs!
Also, if one of our fans buys us a mini-camcorder, just imagine the vlogging we could do!
Cheers!
This drink seems like one of those old timey flying machines that had flapping wings. I mean it sounds like a great idea, but then all of a sudden the wings are falling apart as you plummet off a cliff.
Hmm, I really should dust off my old veloci-gyro!
Was the gin ice cold — I mean ice ice ice cold?
Oh ya, love the pics. The one of Keith where his ears are bright red tells a tale in itself about drinking gin.
The gin wasn’t ice-cold-freezing, actually. We didn’t have any ice, and Keith’s dog had peed in the snow everywhere. Does chilling it really make that much of a difference?
It wasn’t warm, either — it was cool, let’s say, but not cold.
Actually, my ears were red because there was a camera in use. I HATE having my picture taken.
nice haircut… you do have time after all ! but about those drinks… even a regular gin martini is harsh! perhaps try vodka next time?
[...] Find out more about our secret source of vermouth — we sure weren’t going to buy it special! [...]
[...] At first, I was really interesting in the Old Fashioned, with its whiskey base. Or a Manhattan, which is also whiskey-based, and has a Simpsons connection (It’s the ’supoib’ drink of choice at the Legitimate Businessman’s Social Club in Springfield). But the Manhattan (hmm, also a Watchmen reference, right Doctor?) means vermouth, and I didn’t really feel like vermouth, not after the French Onion Martini debacle. [...]
Only in Brandon - sweatpants-clad home of the muffin-top - could fried cheese even infiltrate to a relatively-upscale form of drinking.