Martini Madness

Considering the Gibson: the martini’s urbane, elite, oniony relative.

Troy Patterson is Slate’s writer at large and a contributing writer at the New York Times Magazine.

Across the Bay in The City, which is the way you talk about San Francisco if you live just outside it, people drink whatever has the quickest answer. The bleak, stylish bars off Montgomery Street are straight-faced about Gibsons, a more or less western and much ginnier version of the dry Martini, which is to say that a Gibson has almost nothing in it but cold gin, with an onion instead of an olive for the fussy oldsters.

Fussiness—particularity, peculiarity, the exacting maintenance of a narrow standard of correctitude—is fundamental to the soul of the Gibson. Calling for a tiny onion in one’s drink is tantamount to pledging proud allegiance to an old-fangled orthodoxy. To order a Gibson is to issue a dapper command. The Gibson looks elite on several levels: Its flavor appeals to an aristocracy of taste—a sect within a sect that might, if pressed, locate the beauty of umami in the cocktail. Its socio-cultural tone tends toward the ritzy Episcopal. A good onion is hard to find, and the fact of the Gibson’s relative scarcity leads one to think that a bar where you can obtain one is more likely than usual to possess certain old-school values and thus, perhaps, charms.

Who invented the Gibson? Who didn’t? The gin-mill rumor mill has connected the drink with every Gibson in the Social Register. The most famous among them is the artist Charles Dana Gibson, falsely said to have received the inaugural cocktail after asking the man behind the bar at The Players to improve upon the martini. The 1964 New York Times obituary for stockbroker Walter Campbell Gibson, who died in his rooms at the Knick, skeptically noted this Gibson’s assertion that he originated the drink at the Ritz Hotel in Paris. And then there is the tale of the State Department’s Hugh Simons Gibson: Hugh allegedly liked to join the boys for martinis at the Metropolitan Club, but he didn’t like drinking as much as they did, and he didn’t feel comfortable just saying no, either. His solution was to switch to water after the first round, and he brought in the onion as a safeguard on the con—as a way to mark the drink as his alone, warding off anyone who might accidentally grab the wrong glass. The Hugh Gibson legend points us toward innumerable other genesis myths starring negotiators who want to keep clear heads while hiding their hands. These urbane legends figure the Gibson as a son of deceit.

All of the lies are highly intriguing, particularly because the earliest published recipes for the Gibson called for no garnish at all. A century ago, the Gibson sported neither an onion nor a reputation for stiffness; it was just one among many boring old martini-like compounds of gin and vermouth. But if we must attach the onion to a biography—if we must suppose that the cocktail as we know it sprang from the head of a namesake—then let’s please side with the family of Walter D.K. Gibson. Back when the fussy oldsters Fisher describes were still in short pants, W.D.K.G. was a member of the San Francisco Bohemian Club, that institution most famous for throwing an annual party combining the salient features of a Bilderberg conference and a skinny dip. His descendants attest that he “believed that eating onions would prevent colds.” Judging the veracity of that account, I find myself impressed by its being too dull to bother fabricating.

Eleven years ago, in a New Yorker piece titled “Dry Martini,” Roger Angell reminisced about suburban martinis in the 1940s and ‘50s and reported that “serious debates were mounted about the cool, urban superiority of the Gibson” as compared to “the classicism of the traditional olive.” At this writing, I find myself tempted to side with the Gibsonists: The olive after all is of course a fruit and an allium a vegetable, and the latter may well be a better fit for a savory libation—a truer expression of the martini ideal. And it seems meaningful that, as evidenced below, the Gibson was the favorite of some real heavy hitters—the English language’s wittiest booze expert, America’s pre-eminent food writer, 20 th -century literature’s most imposing self-made myth. Peel back the layers of the Gibson charisma by upvoting and downvoting the recipes below, the most popular of which will enter into Slate’s Martini Madness tournament. (Voting ends Sunday, March 17 at 6 p.m. EDT; tipoff is Tuesday, March 19.)

The Gibson, a cocktail with movie-star status

At left, a traditional Gibson sports a pickled onion; at right, the Onion Vanishes, a Gibson made with an oniony essence. (Deb Lindsey/For The Washington Post)

When it’s made with a fresh pickled onion, I prefer a Gibson to the standard martini with its olive or lemon twist. A Gibson hinges on its garnish: Crunching into a flavorful allium at the beginning of the drink brings out new flavors in the gin and vermouth, adding a salty-sour note that transforms the martini into a cold, delicate onion soup, at once both aperitif and appetizer.

With the Oscars ceremony around the corner, the Gibson deserves a nod. While it has never won an award for Best Supporting Cocktail, it’s a drink with a Hollywood pedigree, including cameos in two of the American Film Institute’s top 100 American films.

One of those appearances bugs me. Plenty of drinking happens in Alfred Hitchcock’s 1959 classic “North by Northwest,” not all of it consensual. Early in the film, protagonist Roger O. Thornhill — played with that droll elegance so particular to Cary Grant — is hauled away at gunpoint from a martini-enhanced business meeting. Later, the same thugs pour bourbon down his throat and force him to drive, assuming he’ll end up dead. (The subtle implication that Thornhill survives this deathtrap because he’s accustomed to driving loaded would not earn the film a stamp of approval from Mothers Against Drunk Driving.)

But it’s not the bibulous “Mad Men”-style meeting or the forced imbourbonation that bothers me. It’s his flirtation with Eva Marie Saint in the dining car of that cross-country train, when Thornhill orders a Gibson.

Let’s take a poll, readers: You’re traveling with a cool, seductive Hitchcock blonde. She’s bantering with you as racily as the Motion Picture Production Code of the time will allow. She has told you where to find her sleeping berth. She has told you, as you peruse the menu, that she never makes love on an empty stomach. (You could read her lips, even though the censors insisted the line be redubbed with the less blatant “I never discuss love on an empty stomach.”)

Would you order a cocktail guaranteed to give you onion breath?

The drink makes far more sense in its other movie cameo, the famously tense party scene in “All About Eve” (1950), when Bette Davis tells her guests, “Fasten your seatbelts. It’s going to be a bumpy night.” It’s all air kisses at that little shindig; the Gibsons passed around among the theater sophisticates are perfect for people who secretly hate one another’s guts.

With its reference to Gibson Girls, “All About Eve” even mentions the man long thought to be behind the cocktail. New York illustrator Charles Dana Gibson, creator of the iconic Gibson Girl—with her high-piled hair and ample bosom — purportedly asked his bartender for something new and was given a martini with onions. Not the most shining moment in the history of Bartender Creativity, perhaps, but that was the story.

More recently, most have come to credit a San Francisco businessman named Walter D.K. Gibson, who began drinking the cocktail in the late 1800s and, according to his family, thought that pickled onions would ward off colds. (There are many more spurious origin stories, many more historical Gibsons who have tried to stake their claim. Any day now, a crazy Mel Gibson will probably be picked up drunkenly arguing that his progenitors invented the cocktail, using onions due to olives’ purported Zionist connections.)

Such is the problem with a common name: Gibsons are everywhere. Some time back, I sampled a terrific Gibson at — surprise! — the Gibson on 14th Street NW. The drink, made with aged genever, had no cocktail onions in it yet was nonetheless suffused with a rich, oniony flavor.

It seemed a no-brainer that the Gibson would serve a killer Gibson. But when I called head bartender Frank Jones, I was tickled to find that the bar is named for a different Gibson: jazz musician Ellsworth Gibson. The cocktail was not originally on the menu.

“People always assume we’re named after the cocktail,” Jones says. “We don’t even carry cocktail onions. But even once we explained to people that it’s not really what we’re named for, they still wanted a Gibson.” The Gibson’s Gibson — made with a red onion-vinegar shrub instead of cocktail onions — was their tasty compromise.

If you’re going with the traditional version, though, go with DIY pickled onions. “Most Gibsons, you go into a bar and you get these onions that have been sitting on a shelf . . . for 15 years. Mushy and nasty,” says Todd Thrasher. When the EatGoodFood Group general manager/sommelier/mixologist first opened PX in Alexandria, he offered a Pick Your Onion Gibson; drinkers could opt for onions pickled with rosemary, thyme, saffron or jalapeño or a bread-and-butter style recipe Thrasher got from his grandmother. A splash of the pickling liquid finished the drink.

These days, I sometimes make my own pickled onions, but if you don’t feel like peeling a bunch of the little suckers, you’ll be happy to know that Thrasher’s delicious, briny standard and sometimes other variations are always available at Society Fair in Alexandria.

Right now our refrigerator is loaded with homemade sherry-pickled onions. They’re good enough to eat on their own, and I plan to crunch plenty in a Gibson on Oscar night.

But I would not order one if I were scoping out some hot locomotive honey, unless my potential partner ordered one, too. I wouldn’t want a case of halitosis to make us just strangers on a train.

Allan is a Takoma Park writer and editor; her Spirits column appears monthly. On Twitter: @Carrie_the_Red.

Gibson Cocktail Recipe

3 mins
Prep: 3 mins,
Cook: 0 mins
Yield: 1 serving

A confusing history follows the Gibson. The standard story is that sometime in the 1930's, magazine illustrator Charles Dana Gibson asked Charlie Conolly at the New York's Players Club to make something different, so he added a cocktail onion to a Gin Martini.

However, there is another story that recently came out thanks to Charles Gibson. This story goes that Gibson's father's great uncle was the one that actually created this variation of the Martini in the late 1800's. His story is archived below the recipe.

So, what is a Gibson? Nothing more than a Gin Martini garnished with a cocktail onion or three (never an even number - that's bad luck) instead of an olive or twist. The result is a different undertone in the taste of the cocktail, from a briny olive to an earthy, light onion flavor.

As with the Martini, use a premium gin and vermouth, adjusting the ratio to your taste.

What You'll Need

2 1/2 ounces gin
1/2 ounce dry vermouth
1 or 3 cocktail onions for garnish

How to Make It

Pour the ingredients into a mixing glass with ice cubes.
Stir well.
Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.
Garnish with a cocktail onion.

The onion garnish also marries well with vodka when it replaces the gin.

The "Real" Gibson Story

Here's the common story of how the Martini came to be garnished with a cocktail onion and thus known as a Gibson:

"Sometime in the 1930's a magazine illustrator named Charles Dana Gibson asked Charlie Conolly at New York's Players Club to make "something different" so Conolly used a cocktail onion to garnish a Martini and the resulting drink has come to be known as a Gibson."

This is the story you'll find in almost every cocktail reference to the Gibson, yet, there is another one that dates to 40 years prior. Charles Pollok Gibson of San Fransisco wrote me to tell his family's story of the creation of the Gibson. His father's great uncle, Walter D K Gibson, was the real genius behind the onion-garnished cocktail and made the first Gibson sometime around 1898 at the Bohemian Club in San Francisco. Here is Charles' account of his family's cocktail history in his own words:

"The story goes that WDK Gibson objected to the way the bartender at the Bohemian made martinis. He preferred them stirred, and made with Plymouth Gin. He also believed that eating onions would prevent colds. Hence the onion. In his version--which I've not seen in later bar books, a twist of orange was held over the glass so that a bit of the oil would fall on the top. The original Gibson--as with all martinis--was also sweeter before the First World War, with about a 1/4 vermouth.

"WDK died in 1938. I remember that here in San Francisco in my childhood (the 1960's) my grandfather and all the old crowd spoke of the Gibson as being created here and by Walter Gibson, who was the brother-in-law of the "Sugar King" JD Spreckels. The first reference I have seen to it in a bar book was in one printed about 1911.

". Unfortunately, I didn't know WDK Gibson myself but all those who did, my grandfather and my father and uncle remembered him well and the fact that he invented the Gibson. He used to drink them until he died in 1938; and during Prohibition his wife, whose sister was Lillie Spreckels, insisted that the gin be prepared specially at home lest an inferior quality slip in.

Alas, I have no idea what her recipe was."

So there you have it right from the source (or fourth generation from the source, at least). The Gibson was invented by Walter D K Gibson in San Fransisco in the late 1800's. Yet, what about the famous magazine illustrator, Charles Dana Gibson, who is attached to this cocktail? We may not know how he claimed this fame in particular, but we do have his sensuous "Gibson Girls" to enjoy even if we take the cocktail away from him.

What a rich family history and great story to pass along. Thank you, Charles, for setting the record (and me) straight.

An interview with Allan P. Gibson was published by Charles McCabe of the SF Chronicle in the 1970's about his great uncle and the Gibson. This interview can now be found in McCabe's book "The Good Man's Weakness" (Chronicle Books, 1974).

The Gibson Cocktail

The Gibson cocktail is another one of those mixed drinks with more history than actual ingredients. It is generally made from gin and vermouth, and while we don’t know its actual origins, we know a lot of theories. There has been found the oldest written account of the Gibson, in The World’s Drinks and How to Mix Them. The book was first published in 1908 and it was written by William Boothby. Although nowadays this cocktail is garnished with pickled onions, in his book Boothby says that although one shouldn’t use bitters to prepare it, one can add olives.

Gibson cocktail picture

Thus, by the earliest definitions of cocktail in The Balance and Columbian Repository from 1806, this drink can also be called a “bittered sling”. If one were to respect the traditional definitions, then the Gibson cocktail is rather a sling, and not a perfect cocktail. The recipe is just as unclear as the history; among other recipes from before the Prohibition era, neither mentions adding bitters, and they don’t add the pickled onions either. Thus, these recipes either garnish with citrus twists, or with no garnish at all. The Gibson cocktail recipe as we know it today doesn’t appear until the late 1930s.

As for the persons who actually invented the cocktail, there are as many of them as there were recipes. One of the more popular stories says the inventor was Charled Dana Gibson, or at least the one who led to its discovery; apparently, he had challenged Charley Connolly, a bartender, to improve the Martini recipe. A funnier story mentions an American diplomat by the name of Gibson who, in order to avoid the awkward situation of explaining he was a teetotaler at dinner parties, would ask the staff to pour water into a Martini glass and to garnish it with a pickled onion in order to find it among olive-garnished Martinis.

Other accounts mention that the only difference between the Gibson and the Martini was the fact that the first was much drier, but as people’s taste for dry drinks increased, the only remaining difference between the drinks was the pickled onion. We will never know who actually invented the Gibson cocktail, but we can offer you the present official recipe, as presented by the IBA:

Both ingredients are poured into a shaker filled with ice; they are well shaken, and then strained into a chilled martini glass. You add a couple of pickled onions, either freely or in a toothpick, and your drink is ready for serving.

Facebook

My initial comments were totally not intended for this bar but another. Sorry fornthe mix up

Gibson Cocktail Bar

Libations and jubilation!

It’s almost time for Gin Jubilee again. Happening from 27th November till 3rd December, our favourite Italian, Silvio, presents the prettiest gin and tonic “Best of Both”.

During gin jubilee, vote for us by following East Imperial on instagram, post a picture of “Best of…

Gibson Cocktail Bar

Come celebrate Seasons of Gibson!

It's crazy how fast two years have flown by, and how much has happened within this time. Come 17th October, we will be celebrating two years of cocktail imbibing and merrymaking with none other than cool guy Soran Nomura.

Soran was previously the bar manager of…

Gibson Cocktail Bar

We are open on Deepavali, 18th October!

We'll also be celebrating our anniversary on its eve (17th October) with Soran Nomura. Come say hi!

Gibson Cocktail Bar

Our birthday fast approacheth!

Our guest bartender for the night is Soran Nomura, who was previously bar manager of Fuglen Tokyo and is currently Brand Ambassador of Japan for Kyrö Distillery Company.

Soran will be presenting cocktails of the "Season", so stay tuned for updates!

How to Make a Classic Martini Like a Pro

Because it's time to start drinking like a grown-up.

There is no other cocktail that has quite captured the public imagination like the classic martini. Whether it's James Bond drinking his the wrong way—it should be stirred, as shaken martinis tend to be too diluted—or the image of the 1920s flapper, it's a cocktail that exudes both class and sophistication.

And, made right, it also tastes pretty damn good. Luckily it's not very difficult to make it right. All you need are the proper ingredients, a martini shaker, a chilled glass, and a reasonably high alcohol tolerance.

Fill a metal shaker with cracked ice.
Pour in the dry vermouth (we prefer Noilly Prat), stir briefly, and strain out (this may be discarded).
Add 4 ounces of gin (we prefer Tanqueray, Bombay Sapphire, or Beefeater). You want it around 94-proof.
Stir briskly for about 10 seconds, strain into a chilled cocktail glass, and garnish with an olive or a lemon twist.

There are quite a few variations on the traditional martini. For instance, garnish it with a cocktail onion rather than an olive or lemon and it becomes a Gibson. There are also syrupy sweet concoctions that co-opt the name and the glass but little else. These are to be avoided.

Gibson

Cocktail recipe

#43 / 303 in Gin Cocktails
|
see all.
#2 / 51 in Vermouth Cocktails

2 Ingredients

3.3 cl Gin 3.3 cl Gin 3.3 cl Gin 33 ml Gin 3.3 cl Gin 1.1 oz Gin
3.3 cl Vermouth 3.3 cl Vermouth 3.3 cl Vermouth 33 ml Vermouth 3.3 cl Vermouth 1.1 oz Vermouth

Original
cl
ml
oz

Microbadges (Expand)

Featured in a user list on the site

Received 10 or more positive votes on the site

Featured in 10 or more lists on this site

We have a photo of this cocktail

Has been featured as cocktail of the day on this site

" > Cocktail Of The Day Classic

Is categorised as a 'classic' cocktail on this site

Mentioned in blog posts

Found In Lists

Thankyou for your email, we'll look at the issue as soon as we can.

Activity on this cocktail

Can you make this?

Personalise your bar and see what cocktails you can make

Elsewhere on the net

The Gibson is a classic. It's like the lesser known sibling of a celebrity. In this case, it's living in the shadow of the Martini. It's a drink that fell out of favor in the era . ">Gibson - the Classic Cocktail That Is Not to Be Confused with a Martini https://www.youtube.com/embed/PLUCr9agKbY

Bartender John McCarthy shows how to make a classic gin gibson cocktail.">How to Make a Gin Gibson Cocktail https://www.youtube.com/embed/l9TtLQ3JGTU

gibson martini cocktail drink recipe hd that is sure to get you going. Impress you friends with this sexy drink recipe. It's one of the most popular drinks.">Gibson Martini Cocktail Drink Recipe HD

[ajax call='elsewhere_on_the_net' args='typee:web,cid:6747,title:Gibson']

You might also like

Long Island Ice Tea

Recent searches

No searches made.

Add to a list

You need to be a member in create and edit lists. Register here

Already a member? Login.

Add to basket

3.3 cl Gin Gin ( )

3.3 cl Vermouth Vermouth ( )

Add to My Bar

3.3 cl Gin Gin

3.3 cl Vermouth Vermouth

Email the recipe

Text the recipe

Badges & Reputation

Advertising

Privacy Policy

T&C

FAQ

About

Subscribe

Contact

Copyright © 2017 Make me a cocktail. All Rights Reserved.

Enter your email address and we'll send you a free Ebook of cocktail recipes.

As well as receiving weekly updates packed with our latest drink and cocktail related content.

And . done! Awesome.

Your 'Top 50 Cocktails' book is whizzing through the old t'internet as we speak, and should be with you soon.

CONTACT

The Gibson Bar вЂ“ an Edwardian Time Machine

The Gibson cocktail was created in the first decade of the 1900s and, like all true classics, it has withstood the test of time. We like to think of the cocktail as a traveller, journeying through space and time. The Gibson bar pays homage to the cocktailвЂ™s journey. The bar is a time machine and through the selection of your drink, you are in control of your destination. Embarking from Edwardian London, your first stop might be a spring evening in the 1920s or a winterвЂ™s night of a time yet to comeвЂ¦ all in the time it takes to mix a drink.

WeвЂ™d love to hear from you вЂ“ if you have any questions or comments, or would like to make a reservation please mail us here вЂ¦

The Gibson London

Visual concept and interior designer

N.Y.C. Bar Serves Up Mel 'Bipolar' Gibson Cocktail

Mood swings got you down? Back away from the phone and have a drink.

The Oak Bar in New York’s Plaza Hotel is proposing a toast to Mel Gibson and his alleged telephone tirades and debuting a “bipolar” cocktail in his honor. (The actor once said he’d been diagnosed with manic depression.)

In true Gibson fashion, the concoction calls for a 1 oz. swig of gin. It also features a shot of vodka – and not just any brew. The Oak Room’s executive chef Eric Hara went all out on the mental theme with Van Gogh Vodka, in honor of the artist who suffered from the disorder.

“Gibson Bipolar All these words flying around in the media just jumped out at me. So I made a Gibson, which is a classic cocktail, into something thoroughly twisted,” Hara tells PEOPLE.com of his liquid creation, adding, “It’s a guy drink, by the way. There’s nothing sweet about a Gibson.”

Want to make it yourself? Here’s the recipe:

The Mel Gibson, a Bipolar Cocktail

• 1 oz Van Gogh Vodka

• 1 oz. Bols V.O. Genever Gin

• Splash of cocktail onion juice

Best served on the rocks – like Gibson’s career.

• Reporting by LIZA HAMM

You May Like

Get your People daily dose

Don't miss a moment

Get your People daily dose

© 2017 Time Inc. All Rights Reserved. Use of this site constitutes acceptance of our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy (Your California Privacy Rights).

Absolut Gibson

Ingredients

2 Parts Absolut Vodka

⅓ Part Dry Vermouth

1 Whole Cocktail Onion

How to mix

Fill a mixing glass with ice cubes. Add all ingredients. Stir and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a cocktail onion.

About Absolut Gibson

There is a story about Gibson -- that it's named after a tee-totaling diplomat named Gibson. As he'd often go to cocktail parties, he'd ask the staff to fill his glass with water instead of a cocktail, and garnish it with an onion to be able to distinguish it from the rest of the guests' drinks. True or false? Don't know, but it's a darn nice drink.