There are few drinks that command attention quite like the Espresso Martini. Not because it arrives with flair or flourish, but because of the curious way it seems to straddle both ends of the evening - a beginning and an end, an energy boost and a wind-down. It has, in its short life, become something more than a cocktail. It’s a cue. A moment. A little luxury we’ve collectively decided is worth pausing for.
Its origins, like many great things, are slightly contested. What we do know is that sometime in the 1980s, a bartender in London was asked to make a drink that would “wake me up, and then mess me up.” What emerged was a blend of vodka, coffee liqueur, and freshly pulled espresso - shaken hard and served cold in a martini glass. Equal parts sophistication and stimulation. The name stuck. So did the habit.
Fast forward a few decades, and the Espresso Martini now sits among the great modern classics, but its character has shifted. Once the preserve of the cocktail bar, it has found its place in homes, at celebrations, and thanks to a little help from a magnum - on the sharing table.
The beauty of our Espresso Martini magnum lies not just in the flavour, though it is velvety and rich and utterly indulgent. It lies in its ease. No espresso machine sputtering in the background. No measuring or muddling. Just a little shake and a gentle pour into a chilled glass, perhaps with three coffee beans resting on top if you’re one for tradition. The ceremony remains, but the fuss does not.
And yet, despite its simplicity, the effect it has is far from ordinary. Pouring an Espresso Martini from a magnum is one of those acts that transforms a moment. It is, by nature, unexpected. There is something slightly mischievous about seeing a cocktail arrive in a bottle that size and something quietly brilliant about the way it invites people in. It’s the kind of drink that turns heads not because it demands to, but because it simply doesn’t fit into the expected order of things.
We've seen it enjoyed in all manner of settings. It appears at dinner parties, replacing dessert. It’s served on rooftops and in garden kitchens. It turns up at birthdays and business launches and late-night debriefs. And wherever it lands, it seems to do the same thing: invite people to linger. To settle in. To toast something - even if it’s just the pleasure of being together a little longer.
Like many of our bottles, the Espresso Martini magnum tends to live on in the memory not just for its contents, but for the context in which it was opened. It is not a cocktail you forget having. It marks an occasion, sometimes deliberately, sometimes by accident. And in that sense, it fits rather neatly into our world, where drinks are chosen not just for what they are, but for what they make possible.
So the next time you feel the evening beginning to dip, or you want to end on something that doesn’t feel like an end at all, consider the pour. Not loud, not showy - just quietly thrilling in the way all the best rituals are.
