Martini (pronounced mahr-tee-nee)
A cocktail made with gin or vodka and dry
vermouth, usually served with a green olive (the twist of lemon a more recent
alternative).
1885-1890:
Origin disputed; it may be an alteration of Martinez (an earlier
alternate name of the drink) but is probably by association with the vermouth
manufacturer Martini, Sola & Co. (later Martini & Rossi). Another
theory holds it’s a corruption of Martinez, California, town where the drink
was said to have originated. Others
claim it was first mixed in New York but then NYC claims lots of things
happened there first.
By 1922 the Martini had assumed its modern, recognizable form: London dry gin and dry vermouth in a ratio 2:1, stirred in a mixing glass with ice cubes, sometimes with addition aromatic bitters, then strained into a chilled cocktail glass. Green olives were the expected garnish by the onset of World War II with a twist of lemon peel often seen by the 1950s. From the 1930s on, the amount of vermouth steadily dropped as the cult of the dry prevailed. Today, a typical dry Martini is made with a ration between 6:1 and 12:1. Some were more extreme, Noël Coward (1899–1973) suggesting filling a glass with gin, then lifting it in the general direction of the vermouth factories in Italy. Ian Fleming (1908–1964) had James Bond follow Harry Craddock’s shaken, not stirred directive from The Savoy Cocktail Book (1930) but contemporaries, Somerset Maugham (1874–1965) and Franklin Roosevelt (1882–1945; US president 1933-1945), neither a stranger to a Martini, both recommended stirring although chemists observe the concept of “bruising the gin” has no basis in science. The Vodka Martini came later. It was first noted in the 1950s when known as the Kangaroo Cocktail, a hint at its disreputable origins but normally reliable sources commend the Blueberry Vodka Martini and purists concede this is the only Martini to benefit from using sweet vermouth. In 1966, the American Standards Association (ASA) released K100.1-1966, "Safety Code and Requirements for Dry Martinis," a humorous account of how to make a "standard" dry Martini. The latest revision of this document, K100.1-1974, was published by American National Standards Institute (ANSI). Flippant they may have been but they’re good guides to the classic method.
Compare & contrast: A classic Gin Martini (left) and a Stoli Blueberry Vodka Martini (right)
Stoli Blueberry Vodka Martini Recipe
Ingredients
60 ml (2 oz) Stoli Blueberi Vodka
60 ml (2 oz) sweet vermouth
15 ml (½ oz) lemon Juice
3-5 fresh blueberries
Ice Cubes
Instructions
(1) Pour Stioli Blueberi Vodka, sweet vermouth
and lemon juice into cocktail shaker and middle blueberries.
(2) Add ice cubes until shaker is two-thirds
full.
(3) Shake thoroughly until mixture is icy.
(4) Strain and pour into chilled martini glasses.
(5) Skew blueberries with cocktail pick, garnish
martini and serve.
(6) Add a little blueberry juice to lend
a bluish tincture (optinal).
Unlike some teams which maintained a standard livery, Martini Racing sometimes fielded other designs. One noted departure was the “hippie” or “psychedelic” color scheme applied to the Porsche 917LH (Langheck (Longtail)) which placed second at Le Mans in 1970 and proved so popular that the factory received requests from race organizers requesting it be entered. Weeks later, across the Atlantic, the organizers of the Watkins Glen Six Hours wanted their own ‘hippie’ 917 but with the car in Stuttgart, Martini Racing took over another team’s car and raced in ‘hippie’ colors to ninth place on one day and sixth the next.
Subsequently the scheme was reprised in another, even more lurid combination of yellow & red in another psychedelic design, this time to match the corporate colors of Shell, the teams sponsor. This remains the only surviving psychedelic car, the factory’s Langheck 917 being converted to 1971 specifications and painted in Gulf Oil’s livery for Le Mans. Like many other used 917s, subsequently it was scrapped by an unsentimental Porsche management.
Although it raced only once, the “Pink Pig” (917-20) remains one of the best remembered 917s. In the never-ending quest to find the optimal compromise between the down-force needed to adhere to the road and a low-drag profile to increase speed, a collaboration between Porsche and France's Société d’Etudes et de Réalisations Automobiles (SERA, the Society for the Study of Automotive Achievement) was formed to explore a design combine the slipperiness of the 917-LH with the stability of the 917-K. Porsche actually had their internal styling staff work on the concept at the same time, the project being something of a Franco-German contest. The German work produced something streamlined & futuristic with fully enclosed wheels and a split rear wing but despite the promise, the French design was preferred. The reasons for this have never been clarified but there may have been concerns the in-house effort was too radical a departure from what had been homologated on the basis of an earlier inspection and that getting such a different shape through scrutineering, claiming it still an “evolution” of the original 917, might have been a stretch. No such problems confronted the French design; SERA's Monsieur Charles Deutsch (1911-1980) was Le Mans race director. On the day, the SERA 917 passed inspection without comment.
Porsche 917-20, Le Mans, 1971.
At 87 versus 78 inches (2.2 vs 2.0 m), the SERA car much wider than a standard 917K, the additional width shaped to minimize air flow disruption across the wheel openings. The nose was shorter, as was the tail which used a deeper concave than the “fin” tail the factory had added in 1971. Whatever the aerodynamic gains, compared to the lean, purposeful 917-K, it looked fat, stubby and vaguely porcine; back in Stuttgart, the Germans, never happy about losing to the French, dubbed it "the pig". Initially unconvincing in testing, the design responded to a few tweaks, the factory content to enter it in a three hour event where it dominated until sidelined by electrical gremlins. Returned to the wind tunnel, the results were inconclusive although suggesting it wasn't significantly different from a 917K and suffered from a higher drag than the 917-LH. It was an indication of what the engineers had long suspected: the 917K's shape was about ideal.
Porsche 917-20, Le Mans, 1971.
For the 1971 Le Mans race, the artist responsible for the psychedelia of 1970 applied the butcher’s chart lines to the body which had been painted pink. In the practice and qualifying sessions, the Pig ran in pink with the dotted lines but not yet the decals naming the cuts; those, in a font called Pretoria, being applied just before the race and atop each front fender was a white pig-shaped decal announcing: Trüfel Jäger von Zuffenhausen (the truffel hunter from Zuffenhausen); the Pink Pig had arrived. Corpulent or not, in practice, it qualified a creditable seventh, two seconds slower than the 917-K that ultimately won and, in the race, ran well, running as high as third but a crash ended things. Still in the butcher's shop livery, it's now on display in the Porsche museum.
Porsche 917-20, 1971.
Scuttlebutt has always surrounded the Pink Pig. It's said the decals with the names of the cuts of pork and bacon were applied furtively, in the early morning of the race, just to avoid anyone asking they be removed. Unlike the two other factory Porsches entered under the Martini banner, the Pink Pig carried no Martini decals, the rumor being that the Martini board refused to associate the brand with the thing. Finally, although never confirmed by anyone, it's long been assumed the livery was created, not with any sense of levity but as a spiteful swipe at SERA although it may have been something light-hearted, nobody ever having proved Germans have no sense of humor.
Porsche 917KH, 1971.
Using the 917KH (Kurz (Short)), the factory team in 1970 gained Porsche its first outright victory in the Le Mans twenty-four classic. In the following year's race, Martini Racing won using a 917KH with a similar specification, running this time in the standard corporate livery. The refinements to the 917K's aerodynamic properties had tamed whatever idiosyncrasies remained from the fast but unstable original and with still could have been extracted from the enlarged flat-12 but with the FIA (Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (International Automobile Federation)), international sport’s dopiest regulatory body, again changing the rules, the run in 1971 would prove to be the 917’s last official appearance at Le Mans.
Although the bloodless bureaucrats at the FIA probably thought they'd killed off the 917, there was still much potential to be exploited and Porsche now devoted the programme to the Can-AM (Canadian-American Challenge Cup), conducted on North American circuits for unlimited displacement sports cars. Run under Group 7 regulations, what few rules there were mostly easy simultaneously to conform with while ignoring which it why the Can-Am between 1966-1973 is remembered as one of the golden eras of the sport. Now turbocharged (as 917-10 & 917-30), in their ultimate form the cars were tuned in qualifying trim for some 1500 horsepower and raced usually with over 1000. So dominant were the 917s that the previously successful McLaren team withdrew to focus on Formula One and there were doubts about the future of the series but as it turned out, the interplay of geopolitics and economics that was the first oil crisis meant excesses such as unlimited displacement racing was soon sacrificed.
However, the 917 was allowed one final fling as an unintended consequence of rule changes for the 1981 sports car season which although never intended as a loophole through which the now ancient Porsche could pass, for one team the chance to again run the 917 at Le Mans proved irresistible. The factory had retired the 917 after its win in the 1973 Can-Am, moving to the 936 platform for 1975 and while aware of the implications of the rule changes, weren't tempted by what they regarded a nostalgic cul-de-sac but Kremer Racing were intrigued and, with factory support, built a new 917 to Group 6 specifications (enclosed bodywork and a 5.0 litre flat-12), labeling it the 917K-81. Using Kremer own aluminium spaceframe, at the 1981 Le Mans 24 hour it was fast enough to qualify in the top ten and run with the leaders until a suspension failure forced retirement (the car eventually classified: 38th, DNF (did not finish). The pace displayed was sufficiently encouraging for the car to be entered in that year's 1000 km event at Brand Hatch where it proved fast but, lacking the factory support, also fragile and it again recorded a DNF. That was the end of the line for the 917.
