The Can Espresso Martini That Changed My Whole Tuesday Night

There is a particular kind of evening that doesn't announce itself. You don't put it on the calendar. It just arrives, usually on a Tuesday, and something small happens and you think, oh. Oh, this is nice. I had one of those recently and I want to tell you about it.

The Can Espresso Martini, and My Skepticism About It

I have, in my life, made espresso martinis. With the shaker and the ice and Herb standing in the kitchen watching me like I'm performing surgery. There's something to that, the little ritual. But there is also something to not doing any of that. To just opening a can and sitting down.

I want to be honest with you: a can espresso martini was not something I took seriously at first. I grew up in Hell's Kitchen when Hell's Kitchen was actually Hell's Kitchen, and I have opinions about shortcuts. But here is what I found out. This is not a shortcut. This is just the thing, already made, waiting for you.

Mary's M-Train Espresso Martini is named after me, which Herb thinks is very funny, and which I think is fair. The M Train runs through my neighborhood. It does what it says it's going to do and it gets you where you're going. That seemed right for a name.

What a Can Espresso Martini Actually Does

The coffee part is real coffee. That matters to me. I have had things that said espresso on the label that tasted like ambition and disappointment, and this is not that. This tastes like someone made espresso martinis, tasted them, and then made them again until they got it right. You can tell when something was made by a person who cared.

The 8mg of THC is what I would call a Tuesday amount. Enough to soften the edges of the week without losing the week entirely. I still knew my name. I still remembered what I had meant to do. I just stopped caring that I hadn't done it yet, which is, honestly, most of what you need.

I sat by the window. The lights outside were doing that thing they do in New York at night where everything looks like it was meant to look exactly like that. Somebody walked by walking a very small dog and I thought, good for both of you. I didn't do anything for a while. That was the whole point.

The Part I Keep Coming Back To

Here is what I notice about a canned espresso martini versus making one yourself: when you make it yourself, part of your brain stays in the kitchen. Even when you're sitting down. You're reviewing what you did, whether you did it right, whether you should have used more ice.

When you open a can, that's just gone. You're all the way in your chair. You're all the way in the evening.

I think that's what I actually wanted. Not the drink, exactly. The being all the way somewhere.

If you want to try one, Herb & Lou's has them, and I'm obviously not an unbiased source, but I'm also a woman who has tried a lot of things and I'm telling you this can espresso martini is good. Pick up a four-pack. Sit by a window. Let Tuesday be something that happened to you in the best possible way.

There is a thought I keep almost finishing. Something about how we spend so much time getting somewhere, and then the somewhere turns out to be sitting down with something cold and watching the lights. I think that might be the whole point. I think that might be all of it.