I kinda like a bar where they push a particular martini on you. At Dukes, Alessandro finishes it with a twist, and staunch gibson guys play along because Alessando said so, and because the lemons are from the Amalfi coast. At the Grill, the martinis are pre-batchedâquite the scandal, until it arrives and, well, itâs an extremely cold and big pre-batched martini. At Raoulâs, Franko always says to get it with Plymouth, always stirred, and he also has a great story about trying to outrun a guy trying to break into his apartment in the East Village in the 80s, definitely ask Franko about that. But I somewhat recently found out that the best martini is Monkey 47, dry, up with olives.