A Very Pink (Pomegranate) Martini

For Mother's Day this past year, Michael got us tickets to see two shows — the first being Good Night Moon, the second being Pink Martini. While Good Night Moon was clearly a fine production, I don't know that I'd recommend it if you don't have kids. Pink Martini, on the other hand, is another story altogether. We just saw them this past Saturday at Chateau Ste Michelle (a beautiful winery in Woodinville, Washington where you sit outside on the grass and eat the picnic you've brought with you). I adore them.

If you are not familiar with Pink Martini's music (for shame!), it is a bit difficult to describe. It is retro and glamorous, like an old-fashioned Hollywood film. At the same time, they are multi-cultural and terribly modern. Many of their songs are in other languages — French, Spanish, Japanese, and apparently Turkish. (They have re-done a song that Eartha Kitt made famous, and sang in Turkish, about a dirty handkerchief. Or maybe it was a scarf.) And their song Je Ne Vuex Pas Travailler was a hit in France when it came out a few years ago. And rightly so; that song is fabulous.

They have three albums, and their fourth will be coming out the end of October. Of their albums, the one I live and breath is their second, Hang on Little Tomato. When Emilia was born, 18 short months ago, we actually called her our Little Tomato. Her little head was perfectly round and she was bright red, particularly when she screamed. And every night before we would go to bed I would dance with her to this album until she fell asleep. Michael would be in the kitchen doing dishes while Miss Milia and I danced. She loved it — the music, the movement, the swaying — and, of course, she loved just being held. I haven't danced with her like this for months because now she just goes to bed after several books and a very difficult teeth-brushing. Besides, the girl weighs thirty pounds.

In honor of Pink Martini, I decided to pull out The Craft of the Cocktail and search for an actual pink martini. As it turns out, no recipe actually bears that name. I almost went for the Rosy Martini, but it calls for more alcohol (three different kinds to be exact), whereas the Pomegranate Martini calls for less alcohol and incorporates both pomegranate and lemon juices. As you can see, we still ended up with a lovely pink martini. If I were doing it again, I would skip the simple syrup and replace it with more pomegranate juice, as I found it to be a bit sweet. Also, I would learn how to do the flamed orange peel properly. I tried to snap the peel and then light it with a match over the glass, but alas, it would not work. We ended up with singed orange peels, which is not a very nice thing to put in your drink. So we opted to do fresh orange peel instead.

Finally, I suppose you should know that I am not the biggest boozer that ever was. Don't get me wrong, I could drink half a bottle of red wine with dinner and not bat an eyelash, but spirits are an entirely different story. And unless we are at a terribly important family affair (always on my husband's side of the family, mind you), I typically stay away from the stuff. But really, why must Uncle Richie always ply me with so much Sambuca? And then why must I insist on dancing to Eminem? At any rate, I think I am getting sidetracked.

A Very Pink Pomegranate Martini

2 ounces citrus vodka

½ ounce fresh lemon juice

¼ ounce pomegranate juice

1 ounce simple syrup

dash of rosewater, if available

flamed orange peel, for garnish

Shake everything up with ice and strain into a chilled martini glass. Garnish with the flamed orange peel. (Recipe from The Craft of the Cocktail, by Dale DeGroff, Clarkson/Potter Publishers, 2002.)