Yes! The martini is truly one of this country’s gifts to the world and should be honored up there with the Declaration of Independence (“There Is Something About a Martini,” July/August).

I discovered the vast difference between a French martini and an American one at a hotel in Da Nang, South Vietnam, in 1963–64. It took most of my first tour in Vietnam to teach the bartender how to make a dry martini. Surely, if they are the least bit civilized, the new administrators are enjoying the results of my efforts.

Alas I can no longer partake of that marvelous creation, but if I ever get a firm expiration date for me or the world, I shall mark it with Tanqueray (just a whisper of vermouth), lemon peel, and Beethoven.