The Aperitif Guy

The Beloved and I became civil partners in 2006. We were amongst the first people to do so, within a few months of the law changing. Because it was such a new thing, there were no established conventions or traditions for what should happen at such a celebration. In many ways, it was nice to build our day from scratch. We kept the invitation list short, just immediate family, and treated everyone to lunch afterwards. Obviously, it was important to us to serve an aperitif before lunch, but what to have? Both sherry and Champagne seemed more formal than the atmosphere we wanted to create for our day. I can't remember which of us first suggested the Dream cocktail, but as soon as it was mentioned we both knew it was the perfect aperitif for us. We had encountered the Dream cocktail the previous summer, in Salvatore Calabrese's Classic Summer Cocktails , and we fell for it immediately. It combines one of my favourite cocktail ingredients - Dubonnet - with citrus fla...

Have you ever wondered about the influences that create our culinary culture and styles of dining? I have been creating dinners for the last few years that explore these influences – the places, the people and the moments that have made us who we are as diners and hosts. Since these dinners bring together all the attitudes and skills I've been blogging about (using aperitifs to create a sense of expectation, planning a menu, setting out a stunning visual scene...), a reader has asked me to give an account of some of these dinners and why I think these people, places and times matter. One of the more colourful dinners we gave explored the social scene of the mid-1930s. In order to create a menu and a social atmosphere that made sense, I tried to imagine what kind of dinner would have been given by the people who lived at my address in 1936. Let's consider who those people were and how their world looked... For a generation who had survived the horrors of the Great Wa...

Magi arriving at the crib at Aperitif Towers Tonight is Twelfth Night, traditionally regarded as the last night of Christmas. (We count nights from Christmas Eve, days from Christmas morning.) Tomorrow, the decorations come down and “normal” life is restored. 6 th January, the feast of the Epiphany, is when the Christian church remembers the arrival of the Magi, often called the three wise men or three Kings, at Bethlehem. In the past, it has been a time of more merry-making than Christmas itself, with raucous Twelfth Night parties, spiced drinks and sweet foods all being part of that. A few years ago, a new gin came on the market called Opihr. Its heavy bottle features exotic colours and an ornate elephant. The gin itself is flavoured with cumin and coriander. It pairs well with either tonic water or ginger ale, and I loved it. Intrigued by my discovery, I wanted to know where it was made. One quick glance at the back label (with my glasses off to see the small p...

And so we come to the mighty, magnificent Martini. Image: C Dixon While other cocktails have come and gone in popularity, the Martini remains the epitome of cool. Undoubtedly, James Bond and the Madmen TV series have helped, but the creators of those fictions have borrowed the Martini’s chachet to present their character as sophisticated (or not: see below). Presented in the perfect cone of a classic Windsor Martini glass, it is cold, clean, clear and strong, requiring only a green olive for garnish. A well-made, well presented Martini draws attention by not seeking it. As an aperitif, the Martini will not be to everyone’s taste. It’s virtually pure gin, of course, so some will find it overly strong. The secret to making such a strong drink palatable is in the mixing, but for those who dislike neat spirit, I’ve suggested some lighter alternatives below. With something this strong, you’re going to need to be careful about the number and timing of your aperi...