In the world of rum cocktails, shaken, fruit-forward recipes far outnumber their stirred, spirit-forward counterparts. Save for a handful of classics, such as the Manhattan-like Palmetto and El Presidente, and the minimalist Ti’ Punch, historic examples from the category are few and far between. 

That is perhaps why, when I was tasked with updating the cocktail menu at Loyal Nine in Cambridge, Massachusetts, in late spring 2016, I homed in on a stirred rum drink from Charles H. Baker Jr.’s 1951 South American Gentleman’s Companion: the Georgetown Club. Baker described the cocktail as a “simple yet definitely interesting mix from the capital city of British Guiana.” He likely encountered it during his liquid fieldwork, perhaps at the namesake gentlemen’s club that was the regional center for colonial British aristocracy during that era.

The recipe that Baker recorded was a trinity of the “finest white rum available,” dry vermouth, and the Caribbean spiced cordial falernum. That teaspoon of falernum provides enough sugar to push the dry vermouth into the realm of blanc vermouth and effectively tie the drink together as a rum Martini, of sorts. Unlike with a classic gin Martini, which needs to be consumed bracingly cold and thus quickly to be maximally enjoyed, the Georgetown Club softens the edges of the drink, prolonging the window of pleasure.

While Baker recommended a Cuban white rum as the base, at Loyal Nine, I opted for the clean elegance of unaged Privateer Silver Rum (now called Privateer New England White Rum after a slight reformulation in 2019), a domestic product with no trade embargo to worry about. To take its delightful tropical notes to the next level, I added a touch of grassy rhum agricole. And while the original calls for an orange or lemon twist, I find that lime oils elevate the drink by accenting both the falernum and the rum.

With its clean, crisp profile, the Georgetown Club works amazingly well as both an aperitif and a food-friendly Martini throughout the summer. In my eyes, it’s not only a window into how folks were drinking 75 years ago, it’s the forefather of the modern tropical Martini trend—elegance with a touch of adventure.