The Martini Is Back, and It’s Not Going Anywhere

It’s not going anywhere

And why should it? After all, it’s one of the longest-running drinks around, emerging in the 1880s, at first as a relatively sweet thing, comprising Old Tom gin and sweet vermouth. Over the decades, it morphed into the London Dry-driven version we know today, coupled with dry vermouth — and an ever-dwindling portion of dry vermouth at that, the dry martini giving way to extra dry, and then to vermouth becoming a notably optional ingredient.

Some experts posit that these bone-dry martinis came into fashion because vermouth was often mishandled. After all, who would want warm, oxidized vermouth befouling a pristine glass of chilled gin? In the 1960s, vodka ascended; accordingly, the vodka martini became a drink of choice in the ’60s and ’70s. When author Ian Fleming set a vodka martini in James Bond’s hand (“shaken not stirred” in “Diamonds Are Forever,” published in 1956, as well as the gin-vodka mashup Vesper, in “Casino Royale,” 1953), it cemented the drink’s iconic status.

Martinis got a second wind in the 1990s, when they re-emerged as “’tinis” — meaning anything went, as long as it was housed in the recognizable V-shaped glass. Many of these were relatively sweet, fruity drinks (think: Lemon Drops or precursors to the Cosmo), often featured on lengthy “martini menus.” Today’s bold-flavored espresso martini and passion fruit-driven Porn Star Martini would feel right at home in that environment.

That carried into the aughts, until that decade’s craft cocktail revival brought back all the tools needed to build a better martini: a fresh crop of gins, high-quality vermouths, bitters, attractive glassware like coupes and Nick & Noras — and most importantly, bartenders who knew how to use them to craft a great drink.

Today, a solid, well-made classic martini is easier than ever to find. It’s also a versatile canvas for every other drink trend right now. Name any fad of the moment — savory, miniature-sized, Tequila-spiked (see: Texas’s popular Mexican Martini) — and you’ll find a martini to go along. Like that silver squid, the martini reaches out lithe tentacles in every direction.

More than just a drink

So how does the martini retain its seemingly endless, permutable appeal?

“It’s a cocktail that distills so many of the trends we’re seeing in the luxury world right now,” explains Alice Lascelles, London-based author of “The Martini” (Quadrille, 2024). That includes the ever-growing expanse of gins, vermouths, and other accoutrements; an ability to personalize the drink (look to the “pick your path” options at Sunny’s in Miami, or the ratio-based menu at Tigre, should you fancy a bone-dry 16:1 gin: vermouth drink, or the soaking-wet polar opposite); and the many rituals and theater associated with it.

And crucially, a new generation is discovering the martini’s allure. For example, venerable Bemelmans Bar at The Carlyle made waves as New York’s youngest legal drinkers emerged from pandemic lockdowns and made a beeline for one of the city’s oldest drinking havens. The red-jacketed bartenders still dispatch around 1,000 martinis a night, under the gaze of murals painted by famed children’s book author Ludwig Bemelmans of “Madeleine” fame.

At Tigre and Maison Premiere, Will Elliott is witnessing a similar moment. “You see it with kids who are 22 years old,” he says. “They’ve seen Tigre on social media and you can see that they’ve already cosplayed in their mind what a martini will be like. Have they ever had a dry martini before? I see a lot of surprised looks, they don’t know what they’re getting into. It’s a stiff drink!”

But Gen Z knows: the martini is so literally iconic, it has its own emoji. It’s more than just a drink.

“[It’s] a language that’s understood around the world,” says Lascelles, “one that speaks of glamour, culture, naughtiness, and fun.”

Super savory

That instant recognizability is a key part of the appeal, says Liam Davy, head of bars for Hawksmoor, an English steakhouse with outposts in New York, Chicago, and the U.K., where the top seller is a signature martini that’s hyper-chilled using an ultrasonic device better known for cleaning jewelry. “The aesthetics are super important: the clean lines, the glass.”

Within that construct, the martini is an ideal blank canvas for all kinds of flavors and special, Instagram-able touches.

And in 2025, savory flavors are king — perhaps stoked by one dirty martini or Gibson too many — but also a key touchpoint for Gen Z tastes, accustomed to a broader range of global cuisines than their predecessors. If anything plants a flag for the martini in 2025, it’s the briny, savory, umami martinis that have become menu staples.

One reason they’ve proliferated: bartenders love creating them.

While many cocktails — margaritas, daiquiris, etc. — are geared toward a sweeter palate, the martini “is one of the few drinks that allows bartenders to explore the more savory side,” Davy explains. You might even conclude that drinks with a fair amount of sugar now incorporate savory flavors, too — hello, mushroom margs and Japanese Cold Noodle cocktails — but they’ve still got nothing on the martini.

But these drinks don’t exist in a vacuum: consumers are snapping them up.

 These savory iterations are everywhere: the chicken bouillon-and-caperberry, crispy chicharrón-garnished Boat Snack at casual, rec room-like Bar Snack; the now-legendary MSG Martini at Cantonese-American restaurant Bonnie’s; the creamy, cloudy, potato-fermented Unfiltered Martini at London’s Lyaness; the Provence Martini at L.A.’s Camphor, made with vodka infused with olive oil and herbes de Provence; the Andalusia, with sherry and umami bitters, at New York’s The Portrait Bar.

And don’t forget Kimball House just outside Atlanta, where Miles Macquarrie is using vacuum extraction methods to make flavorful, super-chilled drinks like a recent Horseradish Gibson, garnished with a “vermouth onion,” accomplished via sous vide, ideal to pair with oysters.

Even traditional ‘tinis are often accompanied by an eye-catching array of choose-your-own-adventure garnishes, some practically doubling as snacks.  Is it dramatic hospitality? Instagram bait?  Does it matter?

Martini as theater

Another signature of the current martini moment: whimsical, often luxe presentations. Those martinis are delivered on trays, trees (like the silver martini “tree” at Corner Store), carts, and more.

Arguably, London (as in, London Dry gin, natch) is ground zero for modern martini culture.

Many owe a debt to the Dukes Martini, from the eponymous bar at London’s Dukes Hotel. There, a potent version was pioneered by Salvatore Calabrese, with just a few dashes of vermouth in a double-sized serve, for a regular who complained he could never have his martini dry enough. Now under the helm of Alessandro Palazzi, that martini is prepared tableside from a rosewood trolley, “with as much flamboyance as the cramped space will allow,” in Lascelles’ words.

You can draw a throughline to martinis on trolleys and trays throughout the U.S., and New York City in particular: the similarly potent, super-sized Duke’s martini homage at the Lobby Bar at New York’s Hotel Chelsea; Borgo’s elegant glass-topped martini cart, which glides through the dining room on request, and of course Maison Premiere, where the Old King Cole martini is served tableside (done right, alongside an icy tray of fresh-shucked oysters.) But it’s hardly limited to New York; look to tableside martinis at Chicago’s Swift & Sons, D.C.’s Medina, where even the ras al hanout-spiced olives to garnish a dirty martini are smoked tableside, and luxe trolleys all over the Bay area.

Sidecars also have become a luxurious signifier. These small carafes arrive alongside martinis, stashed or even encrusted in ice, holding enough to replenish a martini — and sometimes containing enough for another full serve, or more. At spots like Gage & Tollner or The Nines, these carafes signal attention to detail — that martini can instantly be made colder with just a splash — as well as a certain we-want-for-nothing extra-ness.

The pomp surely appeals for social media, adding a playful element to what is otherwise an austere visual. Skeptics add: all this theater — sub-zero freezer serves, tableside flourishes, a banchan’s worth of garnish selections — are often meant to justify the rising cost ($20 and beyond) for an otherwise simple drink.

The Incredible shrinking ‘tini

Another signifier: tiny ‘tinis are everywhere right now. While this is hardly the first time, the reasons are a bit different than previous iterations. It’s still cute and photogenic, to be sure. But it’s also a way to keep costs down, as inflation increasingly takes a bite out of consumers’ disposable income. Even more notable, it’s a way to allow just a momentary, fortifying sip — often before moving on to mellower low- and no-alcohol alternatives (more on that in a moment).

But these mini-martinis have a functional purpose too. Namely, preserving the pleasure of a perfectly chilled drink. There is, for instance, London’s Tayer and Elementary, where co-owner Monica Berg has popularized the one-sip martini; 1.5-ounce “Bambini-tinis” at Miami’s Macchialina (half the size of a traditional ‘tini); and Dante’s mini martini, poured quick-as-a-flash from a pre-batched bottle stashed in the freezer, served in a coupette with a fat caperberry that makes the glass seem even more diminutive in proportion.

Of course, not everyone’s on board with petite drinks. In particular, fishbowl-sized martinis are the birthright of old-school steakhouses — lookin’ at you, Keens. And we know of at least one other steakhouse where guests clamored to retire small Nick & Noras in favor of more substantial glassware.

‘Brash, bold, a little vulgar’

To be honest, these are strange times for the cocktail world. Consumers are imbibing less, and non-alcoholic cocktails have emerged as a triumphant darling on drink menus everywhere.

Ironically, in this golden age of zero-proof drinks, the martini is having a defiant moment, sloshing against the trend like a juniper-scented tidal wave.

Let’s be real: a dry martini is perhaps the stiffest drink in existence: a wallop of gin barely softened by a splash of vermouth. But that’s its essence. Some might even argue that it’s the ultimate antidote to the non-alcoholic moment, and that’s part of the martini’s ongoing energy.

It’s also one of the drinks that doesn’t lend itself to replication as a zero-proof drink. Believe me, I’ve tried quite a few variations, and while some are okay, they’re just not the same. A key stumbling block: there’s just not a great NA substitution for gin.

Most recently, at Nordic-inspired Kabin, I stacked up a delightfully bracing aquavit-accented martini against a no-ABV version made with caraway and verjus. Though it was a valiant attempt, ultimately it had an acidic twang that said “vinegar,” not the bite of gin. It underscored to me that perhaps a martini is just not the ideal poster child for the zero proof movement. (For those seeking a gentler option, I’d steer toward an extra vermouth-y 50-50 martini.)

But maybe that’s the point.

“A martini is brash, bold, a little vulgar — and it’s meant to be that way,” Elliott rightly notes. “It’s meant to shock your palate, be over-the-top, feel intoxicating, but at the same time, meditative,” he says, adding: “It’s contemplative because of its simplicity.”

So there’s good reason to feel upbeat about the martini’s continued longevity. Today’s martini goes high — like caviar bump “garnishes” and delicate Japanese glassware at Martiny’s — and low, as with the newly-introduced “Weenies & tinis” line-up at East Village faux-dive Romeo’s. But mostly, it just goes. And goes. And goes.

Kara Newman is a New York City-based writer, editor, and cocktail book author. Follow her on X and Instagram. Follow Resy, too.