Now that I have my magic corks, I can acquire bottle upon bottle of vermouth with shameful glee. So naturally I got a bottle of Dolin Dry, because everyone says so. I mixed my first martini maybe ever, with Gin Mare, which is objectively delicious, but mostly sits in my closet awaiting consumption in bad gin & tonics because apparently the quinine in regular tonic water makes it taste like onions, which nobody told me that was why, dammit! I had to wait for AI to figure it out for me (thanks, Herbert).
Anyway, my martini sucked. It tasted like fortified dishwater, and I realized I don't actually like Dolin. Finally thinking for myself. A few decades late, but I got there. I magic-corked the Dolin up and hied me hence to procure a Manzanilla (Lustau Papirusa). I cannot at all remember why, but probably Herbert suggested this, sherry whisperer that it is. And on that day, I discovered this incredible, delicious thing. It's a Tuxedo, but I call it a Maturin, and so should you.
The Mediterranean in a glass. Olive, lemon, mountain herbs, dry scrub, and sea air. This is what Stephen Maturin would drink after skewering a rival, sewing up a comrade, or convalescing in Catalonia.
Eat a blue cheese stuffed olive on the side, some cured ham, or Marcona almonds, but leave them out of the drink.
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