The martini has always been iconic. As the legend goes, in the late 1800s, a miner traded fistfuls of gold for the gin-and-vermouth cocktail made by Jerry Thomas, the father of American mixology at San Francisco’s old Occidental Hotel.
More than a century later, women in high heels gather in lounges and the same drink glitters across their table. Meanwhile on TikTok, salty and savory variations get millions of views, giving the martini a new generation of devotees. Its birthplace may be debated, but in San Francisco, the martini still reigns.
Across the Bay, Martinez tells a different origin story to the famed cocktail. According to local lore, the martini was first poured there in 1874, when bartender Julio Richelieu mixed together a gin, vermouth and bitters concoction, served with an olive for a miner celebrating his Gold Rush fortune. That drink — often referred to as the “Martinez” — is widely considered the precursor to the modern martini.
The feud over which city invented the cocktail spilled into a mock courtroom in 1983, called the Court of Historical Review. They ruled that San Francisco was the martini’s rightful birthplace. The absurdity of the feud continued when, shortly after, Martinez held their own mock trial.
After the attorney representing Martinez summoned the ghost of famed bartender Julio Richelieu, whom the city believes crafted the martini, the judge had a couple himself and deemed the case closed.
While both cities have spent decades debating where the martini was first poured, they both can agree that the cocktail’s identity is firmly rooted in the Bay Area. Since its birth, the cocktail’s evolved from stiff gin classics to neon-green appletinis to olive-brined, filthy variations that dominate today’s menus. The cocktail means something different depending on where you sit, who’s bartending and who’s ordering.
In a city that claims it as its own, the question isn’t who invented the martini — it’s where to find the best one.
Zam Zam — The Classic
On the corner of Haight and Belvedere street sits Zam Zam, a cocktail lounge whose Persian-inspired art deco doors first opened in 1941. Wood paneling and cafe chairs line the interior.
“A drink is just like one part of it,” said Houston Weiss, Zam Zam’s newest bartender. “But people come for: personality, art, music, conversation.”
The lounge was opened by Samson Mooshei, and in 1951, his son Bruno Mooshei took over the business. He was known for his no-nonsense attitude and tossing patrons out simply for ordering the wrong drink. San Francisco Chronicle columnist Herb Caen dubbed Zam Zam “The Holy Shrine of the Dry Martini,” and decades later, the bar still lives up to the name.
At Zam Zam, a martini rests on almost every table. At only $12, it arrives ice cold and in a chilled glass — the way a classic martini should: gin-forward, properly diluted and finished with a simple olive. There are no blue-cheese-stuffed garnishes or theatrical flourishes, just a perfect balance. It’s the kind of drink meant to be cradled between sweet conversation.
True Laurel — The Modern
“Adding that tincture and aromatics of the laurel and Meyer together, that’s the marriage,” said Nicolas Torres, owner of True Laurel, a cocktail bar and restaurant in Potrero Hill. Torres describes the bar’s signature 50-50 martini as equal parts vermouth and equal parts gin. “It was harmony.”
At $19, the Laurel martini comprises California bay laurel, a West Coast tree whose leaves are used as an herb similar to bay leaves, and Meyer lemons that are sourced from their neighbors in the Mission. The cocktail feels less like a variation and more like a reflection of San Francisco itself.
The bar hums with quiet conversation rather than spectacle. It’s the type of place locals go to because they love it. Nightly, neighborhood regulars and couples fill the bar, a space built on seasonality and locality.
The Laurel martini is more of a 55-45 martini, meaning their martinis are slightly heavier on vermouth than gin. Bright, botanical, perfectly floral without being perfumey — structured but softened around the edges. It’s a gateway for drinkers wary of stronger pours, and a reminder that a martini can still feel modern and new.
Absinthe — The Sophisticated
When Absinthe Brasserie & Bar in Hayes Valley opened in 1998, San Franciscans were craving layered shots and sweet vodka cocktails. According to Erik Stashak, Absinthe’s bar manager, by reintroducing classics such as Manhattans and the martini, the brasserie helped steer the city back toward its cocktail roots. Today, the white linen tablecloths and bow-tied waiters are reminiscent of the mid-century San Francisco elegance.
But even with its old-school elegance, Absinthe makes room for 21st century interpretations. The restaurant lists its pickletini for $18, and placed among its classics — a deliberate choice. It’s made with French pickle gin; a house-made pickle brine, spiced with coriander and star anise; Castelvetrano olive brine; house-made pickled onions with a touch of absinthe — a nod to the restaurant’s namesake that’s splashed into most of the cocktails on the menu.
“I think you can use this martini as a symbol of something that’s very simple but has stood the test of time and is also very modern,” said Stashak.
Their pickletini feels less like a gimmick and more like a reimagined classic take. It’s savory without being theatrical, silky rather than sharp. In a room where tradition reigns, the menu’s food and drinks evolve carefully by design.
With time, San Francisco has rewritten the martini again and again. For some, it’s unapologetically dirty; for others, it’s crisp and refined, carefully measured. Its birthplace remains a mystery and so does its definition. It’s a cocktail shaped by preference and place. Still, as Torres of True Laurel puts it, a martini is gin and vermouth. “That’s the only rule.”
