It’s taken me some time to write this review. I’ve had to give some deep thought into how much detail I want to go into on this one. Not because the place is some sort of awful gin joint. On the contrary, it did its job a bit too well.
Let’s just say put it this way: I went for after-work drinks at Marty’s Martini Bar in Andersonville and then spent a very early evening doing things I haven’t done since college. I am still rather abashed about the entire evening.
So, here’s the lowdown:
Marty’s is a tight squeeze. They have a few high tops up front and a bar running the length of the place. Opposite the bar, they have a rail (with stools). If a rather large man tried to get between the bar and the rail on his way to the restroom (just hypothetically), he would definitely bump a drink or two. But, that’s OK because when the lady he bumped goes to order her drink, she’d have to really wedge herself between said rotund man and his friend.
The tight fit is OK because, honestly, after drinking one of their GINORMOUS martinis, you won’t really notice much in the way of decor or people bumping into you. They have two sizes of martinis, I would seriously suggest going with the smaller size.
That’s all they serve. Martinis. They have a full liquor menu, a few wines, and a selection of beer. But, that’s it. This isn’t a get some appetizers and have a few drinks sort of place. Nope. This is go and drink. Without nachos or charcuterie plates.
What I Drank
I ordered a Tickled Pink to start. It’s chilled vodka, raspberry liqueur, cranberry and sour mix. So, basically, my usual drink in a difficult glass. Then, I had a Lemon Drop. (Yes, it’s pretty much what you think it is… vodka, triple sec, and lemon juice with a rim of sugar.)
Now, here is where my tale gets painful. I didn’t finish this second martini. I liked it well enough, but I pawned half of it off on my friend. Then, I ordered the Funky Monkey Chocolate Banana which is what they invented the word awesome to describe. It’s a chocolate martini with a splash of banana liqueur. A wonderful dessert drink if I ever knew one.
I took two sips and that was it. I was done. And, by done, I don’t mean I finished the drink. By done, I mean, I couldn’t drink anymore. Because the magic alcohol fairies had turned me into a complete light weight. What the hell? A martini and a half and I began my descent into abject misery. This incident occurred about a month ago, and I have not touched hard alcohol since. (Wine… yes. But I am off the sauce, people. Off the sauce!)
That begs the question: Would I go back? Um, yeah. Because the servers the next day were very nice to me when I went looking for my lost credit card. (Don’t worry. It turned up at the bottom of my bag covered in sick minutes after I cancelled the card. I told you… it was not a nice night.)
So, once I get back on the alcohol wagon (that’s right… nondrinkers have their wagon, I have mine), here are my rules on going back to Marty’s:
- Eat dinner beforehand.
- Order the small size.
- Start with the chocolate one.
Location: 1511 W. Balmoral Avenue (yeah, it’s there… go past the hot dog place)