They say martinis are like breasts: one never feels quite enough, three are entirely too many.
Questionable comparisons aside (and apologies to Total Recall), the point stands. I’m forever caught between the promise of Saturday night and the punishment of Sunday morning’s reformer class, between watching my bank balance and drinking my way through it, between flirting with the “sober-curious” trend and simply wanting to try everything on the cocktail list. The solution? Enter the mini cocktail.
Tiny but mighty, these downsized drinks are no longer just bartender’s inside joke – they’ve quietly become the most fashionable addition to cocktail menus everywhere. Think of Manchester’s Blinker Bar with its “snaquiri” (a daiquiri gone fun-size), or Borough Market’s Oma, where the clementine gimlet is making the rounds. Even the baby Guinness has had a glow-up. But it’s the martini, insists bar consultant Tyler Zielinski – author of Tiny Cocktails: The Art of Miniature Mixology – that truly thrives in miniature form. “Unless you drink incredibly slowly,” he explains, “every sip stays ice cold.” Plus, it gives you the full punch of a martini without tipping you into regret territory.
My first brush with the mini martini was at Rita’s in Soho: a precise little pour of gin, vermouth, and lemon oil, crowned with a gilda skewer. It was elegant, sharp, and over before the chill wore off – leaving me free to order a bottle of wine without remorse.
Since then, I’ve spotted them everywhere. At Rasputin’s in Hackney, the Reaganomics Special pairs a gulp-sized martini with two hot dogs – a kind of punkish prix fixe. At Tayer + Elementary, the “one-sip martini” has achieved cult status, inspiring its own line of branded hats and sweatshirts. If one sip feels stingy, east London’s Marceline pours a two-sip version, while The Cadogan Arms offers theirs refined enough to accompany – not replace – a proper pint.
Now, Soho’s Firebird team is launching Noisy Oyster in Shoreditch, a seafood spot with a cocktail list anchored by its signature mini martini. The vibe is sleek, industrial-chic, and very late-’90s – the kind of place where Samantha Jones might have flirted, feasted, and thrown a drink in a banker’s face. Think oysters, caviar, dirty martinis, and – miracle of miracles – no hangover the next day. Honestly? Shake that vermouth, because this might just be the future of drinking.
