
Up until a few months ago, Olivia Merckle mostly avoided olives. The Jacksonville Beach bartender didn’t ask for them on pizza. She disliked them in salads. She ate past them on crudités platters.
Now, though, Merckle is guzzling olive juice at a fiendish pace. Like many other cocktailians across the Jacksonville area, Merckle this summer became a dirty martini enthusiast, shelving her usual order of gin-and-soda for equal parts vodka-and-green olive brine.
“I tried it at my friend’s house, and I just loved it,” Merckle said. “I’ve been hyper-fixated since.”
Dirty martinis aren’t new, but their popularity started snowballing last year, with bartenders in New York City, Chicago and Austin devising ever-murkier versions of a cocktail that mid-century connoisseurs refused to sully with so much as a single drop of vermouth. Mushroom infusions, chicken bouillon, and anchovy bits went into V-shaped glasses, winning over a new crop of fans who feel cheated if they can see through their drinks.
The fad soon thereafter sunk its filthy claws into Jacksonville and shows no sign of letting up.
At The Refinery, where Merckle works, “I wouldn’t say it’s our most-ordered drink, but I make one every day.”
Notably, The Refinery muddles its jarred olives so the liquid surrounding them is thoroughly sordid before it’s tipped into a mixing glass. In Merckle’s biased opinion, that makes The Refinery’s version one of the finest around.
And as the local count of dirty martini devotees climbs, the number of social media posts pleading for directions to the single best rendition in town has grown along with it.
Perennial contenders for the brine-soaked crown include City Grille and Raw Bar, Marker 32 and Cowford Chophouse, although Gemma Fish & Oyster scores its share of online salutes because it serves caviar by the quarter ounce: The salty “bump” is the au courant accompaniment to a high-sodium martini.

As for what goes into the drink itself, dirty martini drinkers typically aren’t particular about liquor, since if the cocktail’s made correctly, the spirit’s flavor should be wholly obscured. By the same token, most dirty martinis are made without any vermouth, although a few clever companies have started producing fortified wines designed to complement olive juice, such as tomato-infused vermouth.
But the dirty martini contingent cares deeply about in-glass garnishes, which are supposed to be as savory and flavor-forward as the drink’s defining brine. In the Jacksonville area, blue cheese-stuffed olives reign supreme; Merckle stresses their freshness is paramount. “They absolutely have to crunch,” she said, revealing that in her three months of seeking out dirty martinis, she’s encountered the freshest stuffed olives at The Capital Grille.
Still, nothing matters more than the olive brine, which dirty martini drinkers are apt to emphasize when placing their orders. It’s common for restaurant and bar customers to deploy a thesaurus’ worth of synonyms for dirt when trying to convey how much brine they want, with some especially impassioned guests naming polluted bodies of water to make their point.
“People like to say, ‘extra filthy seawater,’” confirms Halli Sigel, co-founder and CEO of Quincy, a New York City-based mixer and garnish producer. Sigel started the company in July 2024 after opening her refrigerator to find “10 dried-up olive jars. I was like, ‘What?’” The conceit of Quincy’s dirty martini olives is each jar has the right quantity of olives and brine to make 14 martinis without waste.

Earlier this month, Sigel was stationed at the Martini Expo, a two-day convention in Brooklyn organized by drinks writer Robert Simonson and Mary Kate Murray. The extravaganza drew hundreds of martini acolytes, including plenty of purists. “The best part was when someone came up to our booth and said [our martini] tasted like the ‘90s,” Sigel said.
Apparently, the review was meant as praise—or at least indicated that even old-school cocktail geeks can appreciate the fun inherent in all that grungy brine.
“People are looking for an alternative to sweet cocktails,” Sigel said. “Savory is having a moment.”
Far more so than alcohol. Alcohol consumption has declined to a record low, with a Gallup poll showing 46% of Americans haven’t had a drink in 2025. Thus far, Sigel says, “the trend in mocktails has been really fruity,” but she’s ready for the pendulum to swing.
In fact, Merckle’s preferences may provide a guide to where the dirty martini’s trend’s headed. While her baseline order was equal parts vodka and brine, she’s slowly started to increase the percentage of brine—and can imagine a day when she’ll drink the saltwater straight (with blue cheese olives, no doubt).
