Part of the beauty of making cocktails is the ritual and all its attendant accoutrements. Over time, you’ll find you don’t just have a booze of choice, but a favorite cocktail shaker (“It works better, I swear!”) or maybe even a jigger you just can’t live without. You’ll decide which works best for your martini: counting the number of shakes, or timing the duration of shaking. The process becomes — almost — an end in itself. I believe this is the same reason heroin remains so popular.
And so I look at this power martini thing with blended feelings of disdain and wonder. The disdain is obvious. The wonder is: What’s next, some kind electric screwdriver?
(Yes, I really did write all that just to do a bad electric screwdriver pun.)