cocktail review no. 45 - Cajun Martini

Is it humanly possible not to relax, kick back and feel at peace with the world after listening to a good solid round of Jimmy Buffett?

No, it ain't. And if you want the full tropical flavor, as so many parrot-heads do, then you have to have a margarita.

But margaritas aren't the only thing Jimmy drinks. If you listen to his tunes, he mentions other libations in his lesser-known songs. Daiquiris are given a plug in "Cheeseburger in Paradise." Hurricanes are part of the chorus of "It's Five O'Clock Somewhere."

And in a largely unknown tune called "We Are the People Our Parents Warned Us About," a passing reference is made to something called a Cajun martini.

That piqued my interest. I knew Cajuns were renowned for their spicy foods, and I was already a fan of your regular run-of-the-mill dry martini. I'm also developing a fascination with spicy drinks (be they flavored with capsaicin or some other agent like nutmeg).

Donna Hole is going to hate me for this.

What the hey? I asked myself.
What the hey, indeed? I answered myself.
So I decided to go for it.

The recipes I discovered, though as various as a macaw's plumage, all had some common themes: gin (or vodka), vermouth, and jalapeño pepper for garnish. So I just decided to mix up a regular martini and garnish it with pepper slices.

• 1½ ounces gin
• ½ ounce vermouth 
• two or three slices of jalapeño pepper

In a shaker half-filled with ice cubes, combine the gin and vermouth. Strain into a cocktail glass and garnish with the jalapeño.

I wasn't expecting much. I couldn't see how a few puny slices of jalapeño could make much matter in a double martini. Boy, was I wrong. On my first sip I was punched in the face with olfactory and gustatory sensation. It wasn't heat, oh no: the capsaicin was, in my father's estimation, being metabolized by the alcohol in the gin. No, it was pure eau du jalapeño. A whack of peppery flavor hit me in the taste buds and filled my mouth with a fiery, exotic ambience, backed by the tang of the gin-and-vermouth duet. Moreover, the peppery flavor only increased the farther in I plowed. Beginning with a combustive, intense explosion of pepper flavor and finishing with a sort of mellow, inchoate zest, with overtones of coriander and lemon peel and the aromatic herbal redolence of the vermouth...well! I'll tell you what, this drink is like chewing your way through the best bits of your back garden with a hefty gulp of alcohol for a chaser. Sounds like something a hard-bitten Cajun might do anyway.

I can really see why ol' Jimmy likes 'em, Gulf-Coastal boy that he is. It's a cool, summery afternoon sort of a drink, with an extra kick to it, a challenge as well as a refuge. Something for a round of contact golf with the guys, or an opening volley in the evening's first drinking game.

Drink with caution. And have a chaser ready when you reach the bottom (the time's come to eat your garnish!).

And now, a little tune we can all enjoy with our drink, no matter what that drink may be. Bottoms up!