Pull out the thermometer: How cold is "cold enough"?

Every bartender has a different idea of what shake, stir, and chill mean. That's why I always find it somewhat disconcerting when friends ask me what cocktail they should order when I'm not mixing them. I can lead a bartender through the ingredients of any mixed drink, but I can't ensure that they'll execute it well. That's why Jack London - an agreeably smart fellow - would have his trusted Oakland bartender mix his cocktails en masse and ship them to wherever he might be. London knew that making a good drink was far more than following a 10-line recipe. When sizing up bartenders, I try to suss out whether or not they realize this. But usually I'm too sheepish about schooling them in mixing the drink, and consequently, my friends wind up unhappy with their drink. About 99 percent of the time, the cocktail merely isn't cold enough: Either too little ice or too little vigor was used in preparing it. To better understand this phenomenon, I set out to do a little experiment of my own. After all, to tell a bartender how to make a cocktail cold enough, I'd need to quantify just how cold "cold enough" is.

We all know what a good drink tastes like, and telling whether quality fruit and spirits have been used is simple enough. Even guessing if the ingredient proportions are correct can be done by the only slightly above-average bar patron. But knowing if a drink will be cold enough before the bartender finishes with it isn't something that even I can do consistently. It's one thing to say what's wrong with a drink after sipping it; it's another to rightly avoid that sip and the disappointment that goes along with receiving an ill-concocted cocktail.

I started my experiment with what I knew: Most bartenders, even the slackest, will use enough ice in a frosted glass. No longer is ice the commodity that Samuel Clemens called "jewelry only the rich could wear...." Bars and establishments - whether in Omaha or New York - will use the same type of commercial ice, known as "aged ice," and it's always clearer and colder than that made in the home freezer.

The tool of my endeavor was the Taylor, Instant Read Meat Thermometer No. 5989. Purchased for just US$17, I now have the most wonderful gizmo for recording temperatures from 0° to 220° Fahrenheit - in seconds. I'm sorry I hadn't found it before writing my holiday shopping suggestions. But I didn't spot this thermometer until I was at Comdex in Vegas a few weeks back. It was in the hands of buffet inspectors, whose job was to monitor the food lines at a hotel all night during Comdex. They were using their thermometer to make certain that the temperature of the food was what it ought to be for warding off such travel nightmares as botulism.

The thermometer itself is about the size of a tire-pressure gauge when fully sheathed. When removed from the sheath, it appears as a slightly blunted ice pick with a mini compass attached to one end. The lower 2 inches of the probe can read the temperature of both semi-solids and liquids.

I set my experiment up quite simply, using only two cocktails - the Martini and the Daiquiri. I mixed each drink four different ways, with every version made with the same type of ingredients in the same glasses. The four methods of mixing were as follows:

Method 1: Limp-wrist jingle. This method, which is really called that, is used by every lazy bartender I know. It's also used by a few priggish ones who like to make the job of bartender look easier than it ought to be. Barely jiggling the ice back and forth, this tactic introduces the ingredients to each other but never makes them comfortable with the ice. Not only does this fail to chill a cocktail, it also fails to blend the ingredients. This method is the equivalent of pouring the ingredients over ice and then straining into a glass.

Method 2: Stirred. This is the method of Martini aficionados worldwide who still believe you can bruise gin. Actually, stirring is my chosen method for mixing cocktails that only call for a blend of spirits when no juice is to be added. It's also how clear cocktails like the Martini should be handled, since shaking makes them opaque.

Method 3: Shaken not stirred. This classic method of professional bartenders is done with a pint glass fit snugly into an upside-down metal shaking tin - just like you've seen in the movies and at the local bar.

Method 4: Shaken with stainless. From experience, I suspected that stainless steel and sterling silver shakers would have the ability to better chill than glass. Years ago, I vaguely recall seeing a blender presentation at a state fair in which a salesman made a frozen Slurpee with juice and a little ice in a Waring blender by merely swapping the glass cup for the stainless one. Besides, common sense dictates that metal is a better conductor than glass. However, because Method 3 uses a metal shaking tin, I wouldn't expect the difference to be substantial.

To make the experiment as fair as possible, I used the same amount of ice for each method, and I applied each method for the same amount of time. I used commercial ice that I stored in my freezer, which happened to be at a chilly 10° that day. (The temperature of both the ice cream and the vodka that I store there supported that.) To put a little perspective on things, I also registered the temperature of the tap water, which was 65° here in Oakland, California, in late November. The refrigerated milk and beer were both 41°.

Of course, my cocktail measurements proved far more interesting. First off, I made the Martini with 80-proof gin and 20-proof dry vermouth, both of which were at 70° - room temperature.

Method 1: 42°
Method 2: 30°
Method 3: 25°
Method 4: 20°

After a trip to the grocery store for fresh limes, which turned out to be chilled at 49° in the fresh veggie section, I mixed the Daiquiri with 80-proof rum and room-temperature simple syrup. My results were only slightly different than those for the Martini:

Method 1: 39°
Method 2: 30°
Method 3: 25°
Method 4: 20°

The biggest surprise of my overall results - besides how much fun the experiment was - was the significant difference in temperature between the metal shaker, Method 4, and the glass-pint container with a metal mixing cup, Method 3. My conclusion is that any temperature between 25° and 20° would pass the scruples of most imbibers, but I also believe that temperature is a relative thing when it comes to taste. The colder the cocktail, the greater the chance that it's more diluted. Although only noticeable to those who truly appreciate the juniper of gin, this additional dilution would certainly hamper the taste of their Martinis. All this adds further credence to the idea of storing spirits in freezers, which makes even more sense if you - like most people - want your Martinis clear. But as far as ordering these cocktails out with the hopes of getting them cold enough, sometimes you'll get lucky and other times you won't - you just have to remember which establishments you're luckiest at.