Some drinks are sturdy enough to defy the rough and careless handling to be expected at the average bar. I can order a Manhattan on the rocks most places, and as long as the bartender doesn’t forget the bitters, I will end up with a perfectly drinkable cocktail. Not so a martini, which one can expect to be wretched.

There are two reasons I’m almost never satisfied with a commercial martini: one universal, the other particular. The universal: Few bartenders make this most perfect of cocktails with the basic craftsmanship and attention to detail necessary for such a simple drink to sing. The particular: Few bartenders make the drink the way I like it.