Bailey's on the Glacier

Bailey's on the Viedma Glacier - photo by JoAnn Sturman

Scott Sturman
fliesinyoureyes.com

I don’t drink martinis, but there was something about an article I read in the New Yorker ten years ago that stuck. The piece, Dry Martini by Roger Angell, discussed the drink in great detail, but the fact I remember is the importance of the quality of ice when making the perfect beverage.

The Viedma Glacier in Argentina’s Patagonia rests against the eastern side of the Andes but is only 800 feet about sea level. It is easily accessible by boat provided the powerful Patagonian winds are not so strong as to make the 30 minute ride across Lago Viedma too perilous.

As the catamaran approached the glacier, we occasionally saw water blown off the surface of the lake, an indication the wind was blowing in excess of 50 MPH. After docking near the glacier’s foot where it meets Lago Viedma, our group spent a couple hours traipsing around the glacier in crampons peering into crevasses and marveling at the colors and forms of the ice flow.

At the conclusion of the tour one of the guides took his ice ax and began chopping at the ice. Within a few inches from the surface clear, pebble sized ice pellets fell from the hole in the ice wall.

The ice had its beginnings 300 years ago, when it fell in the form of snow high in the mountain passes separating Chile from Argentina. Snow piled upon itself as it was compressed into ice and began its journey downward towards the lake miles away and thousands of feet below. By the time it reached its final destination before calving into Lake Viedma, it had been exposed to so much pressure that no air remained to affect its clarity. The result was the clearest, hardest ice one can imagine.

The guide removed plastic cups from his back pack and filled each one half full of the newly exposed ice. Into each cup he poured a generous portion of Bailey’s Irish Cream. The result was remarkable. The ice supercooled the Bailey’s but did not melt appreciably in the process. The size of the ice was small enough that beverage seemed to cling to each pellet, allowing one to only sip the liquid. It forced one to savor each taste and allowed only a few ounces to last for several minutes. Now I know what Roger Angell was talking about when he extolled the virtues of ice in making a martini.