Brian’s take: The artini at Perry’s was about as complex as its name is long: “Perry’s Sangria Pipette and Apple Gelee Martini.” Now I’m a simple guy, but I have to say that in this unique case, more was actually more. Talk about sweating the details—Perry’s artini had psychedelic colors, a titillating texture (imagine what it must feel like to have flavorful specs of apple sauce floating in your drink), and strangely surgical-looking pipettes protruding from the whole ensemble. These pipettes were filled with sangria, a whole separate drink unto itself, and you could do with them what wished: drink the sangria straight from the pipe, inject the sangria into the apple gelee, stir the whole shebang pipette-style, suck the drink into the pipette and then squeeze it out again, shove the pipette into your friends ear and watch him squirm, &tc. The options were apparently limitless, and we sat there playing with our drinks—and devouring all manner of delectable sushi rolls, each of which jived with the flavor of the artini remarkably well—as the liquor went to our heads and the fish to our stomachs.
On a scale of 1 to 5 olive branches: 4.789
Ted’s take: Gastronomical purity and a self-assured cocktail. In the words of Cocteau: “Hell yes, motherf*cker.”
On a scale of 1 to 5 olive branches: 4.9