The Kangaroo Cocktail (aka "Vodka Martini")

"I'll have a Kangaroo. Shaken, not stirred."

"'I hope I've made it right,' she said. 'Six to one sounds terribly strong. I've never had vodka Martinis before.'"  The poor dear. We are, of course, referring to Solitaire in the novel Live and Let Die, trying to please her new man, James Bond, by making his drink correctly despite her anxiety about its (or his?) strength (power?).

The most well known tipple 007 is known to quaff, is of course, the "Vodka Martini". It is probably insufferably pretentious of me but I'm one of those irritating folks who believes there are only three drinks in the world that may be called a Martini and they all have gin and vermouth, dry, sweet or a combination of the two. Change the garnish from a lemon peel or olive to a cocktail onion and the drink becomes a Gibson despite the fact that it is really just a Martini with a different garnish. Swap out the gin for another principle spirit, such as bourbon, and you're just one dash of bitters (and a cocktail cherry) away from having yourself a Manhattan. By this logic, exchanging the gin for vodka should result in a drink with its own name; either a Vodka and Vermouth or something more exotic. In fact when vodka and vermouth were first mixed together in the 1920's, they did have an exotic name; they became: The Kangaroo Cocktail. Why that name didn't stand the test of time, one can only imagine.

I am the first to admit that making a Martini is infinitely easier than learning to appreciate one. The dry Martini is an acquired taste which is part of what gives it that enduring air of sophistication. Once you develop the taste, you feel almost as if you have earned your way into an exclusive club of men and women who know how to live and live well. Not everyone can or will develop a taste for the Martini and that only adds to the exclusivity of it all. It is snobbery, plain and simple but snobbery about the things we like is, perhaps, the only justifiable snobbery to embrace.

I suspect this is why people who love the Martini bristle at the Kangaroo (which is how I will refer to it from here on, so as to avoid confusion) being called a "Vodka Martini". Not only does it make it more complicated to order our beloved Martini, it seems like a cheat; a weak drink that does nothing to challenge the palette or earn the cache of sophistication but has, thanks in no small part to the popularity of James Bond, encouraged bartenders the world over to ruin our dry Martinis by shaking the life out of them.  It is bewildering to me how anyone, once appreciating a Martini would prefer a Kangaroo and from what my entirely unscientific research reveals, most people choose one or the other while it is a very rare breed drinks both. Those who favor the Kangaroo, generally do so because they do not like gin. Those who favor the Martini do so because we have learned to appreciate gin and vodka seems like weak tea in comparison.  James Bond is that rare specimen that drinks both. Which begs the question: When and why does one choose a Kangaroo over a Martini?

A friend of mine, who has nothing in common with 007 whatsoever beyond her appreciation of both drinks explained that, for her, the difference is analogous to choosing a lager over a stout; both may be delicious but sometimes something light and refreshing is more desirable than something challenging and complex. She also mentioned the importance in the garnish; preferring olives in her Kangaroo and a lemon twist in her Martini. In fact, the garnish (be it an olive, a lemon twist or black pepper) defines the kind of experience you can expect from a Kangaroo, simply because the vodka brings so little to the table in terms of flavor. This, I thought, might be a way for me to appreciate this drink more fully. After all, a Martini is either good or bad, depending on the execution. The garnish adds a dimension but it is the interplay between the botanical ingredients in the gin and the vermouth that really defines the experience. But a drink you can influence so strongly with just the garnish?  Now that's interesting!

James Bond prefers his Kangaroo to be called a "Vodka Martini" and for them to be made this way:

• 3 oz. (or six parts) vodka
• .5 oz. (or 1 part) dry vermouth

Shaken (not stirred) with ice, strained into a chilled cocktail glass with a large slice of lemon peel which is best twisted over the top to express the oils across the surface of the drink.

"I've never had a Kangaroo before."

It is in Moonraker that Ian Fleming specifies "real pre-war Wolfschmidt" vodka. The Wolfschmidt available to me was on the bottom shelf of my liquor store in a 1.75 liter plastic bottle for $12.00 U.S.  That seemed a bit dodgy to me so I chose Stolichnaya because it is Russian, made from grain (two of Bond's requirements in a vodka) and won a gold metal at an international trade show in Berne, Switzerland in 1953, just one year before Ian Fleming wrote Live and Let Die. In the first flush of the cold war, Russian vodka must have seemed a daring and very modern alternative to London dry gin.

With an olive as the garnish the vermouth and small amount of olive brine dominated the drink with a faint but pleasantly savory vegetal flavor with an almost creamy finish and smooth mouth feel. I enjoyed the drink but found myself wishing I was drinking a Martini instead. With a lemon twist, the drink becomes entirely lemon flavored (albeit dry) with the vermouth playing a supporting role by lending only a hint of sweetness and complexity to the finish. This certainly made for the more refreshing drink and made me yearn less for a Martini. Shaking the drink instead of stirring it made it quite a bit colder than is customary in a Martini (which is best stirred) but also watered the drink down quite a bit.  Since what flavor there is in vodka is not particularly to my liking, the cold and dilution came as a kindness. The lighter flavor profile as enhanced by the citrus was refreshing in the summer heat in a way a Martini would never be. And once I was able to appreciate the Kangaroo on it's own terms instead of as an ersatz Martini, I enjoyed it very much.

I do still find myself tilting at the windmill of the "Vodka Martini" moniker. Calling a Kangaroo a Martini diminishes it by forcing it to compete with a completely different cocktail when it should stand on its own; apples to oranges and all that. It occurs to me that what Ian Fleming did by popularizing vodka and vermouth as a "Vodka Martini" was set up a perpetual cold war between England and Russia, fought not with human lives but with the spirits most closely associated with each country. And with vodka rather winning the day, it makes one wonder whose side he was on...

Vesper

As the first entry to this blog, it makes sense to start at the beginning.  The most famous cocktail 007 drinks is the one he creates in the first novel Casino Royale: The Vesper.


From Casino Royale, the passage reads thusly:

"A dry martini," [Bond] said. "One. In a deep champagne goblet."

"Oui, monsieur."

"Just a moment. Three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel. Got it?"

"Certainly, monsieur." The barman seemed pleased with the idea.

The barman wasn't wrong.  The Vesper is a beautiful drink, balancing sweet, dry, bitter and floral elements in a tightly constructed, dangerous little package.  Spicier than a dry gin martini, the Vesper promises sex, violence and high living in a way few other cocktails do. It was the perfect drink to launch Ian Fleming's stylish yet brutal series of novels and a worthy addition to the menu of any self respecting bar but it's not without it's problems.


The first problem with the Vesper, aside from the fact that most bartenders don't know how to make it is that the key ingredient that transforms it from a standard martini into the Vesper, Kina Lillet, doesn't exist anymore.  Lillet Blanc, the company's current offering is a very nice fortified wine, but just doesn't have the complexity or quinine elements to stand up to three parts of gin, even as diluted with one part vodka. And, at the time of this writing, no one else really offers a Kina. In fact, there is only one product on the market that claims to duplicate what Kina Lillet once was; Cocchi Aperitivo Americano.  Small batch distillers Tempus Fugit are coming to market with their own exhaustively researched Kina sometime soon so there will soon be more options to choose from. 


The second problem with the Vesper is that, according to those who seem to know, Gordon's gin isn't the same product in the U.S. as it is in the U.K. Many manufacturers adjust their recipes to meet local tastes and, over the years, often change recipes completely.  The U.S. product is, in the opinion of this blogger, simply disappointing.  Another gin is called for.  Of the gins I have tried, Plymouth, Tanqueray Ten, and Miller's are the most enjoyable mainstream gins and the Voyager brand from Tempus Fugit Spirits  is probably my favorite small batch gin for this drink.


And, his license to kill be damned, James Bond is wrong about the shaking.  A shaken spirits-based cocktail is less cold and less flavorful than one stirred because of the extreme oxygenation brought on by the shaking.  Also, dilution is an important factor in any mixed drink. Spirits forward drinks should almost always be stirred. Drinks with juice, milk or eggs should be shaken.  
Here's how I like my Vesper.


Stir with ice for 60 seconds:


3 oz. Voyager Gin or Miller's Gin
1 oz. Hangar One Vodka 
.5 oz. Cocchi Aperitivo Americano


Strain into a chilled coupe or martini glass and cut a fresh twist of lemon zest over the top so the oils from the peel coat the surface of the drink and enjoy in the company of beautiful women.