So they say our tastes change as we get older. Things that are yucky to us as kids suddenly become inexplicably tasty a few decades later. According to experts, we're particularly likely to re-evaluate our relationships with bitter foods as part of that growth process.
Maybe it's purely because of biology that I've come to appreciate a drink I never really looked twice at before: the Negroni. Bitterness is an inescapable part of the Negroni, and I'd argue it actually enhances the other elements. Bitter simultaneously keeps the level of booziness in check, and stops the sweetness from the liqueur from being too much. If a cocktail is the fusion of multiple things without tasting like any one thing in particular, I think it's the bitter that pulls everything else into the middle of the proverbial triangle.
Beyond that, the Negroni always tends to appeal to cocktail nerds because it's beautiful in its simplicity. Usually I'm pretty pessimistic about combining three things in equal proportions, but the basic drink absolutely works. Let's look at the most common, run-of-the mill Negroni before I mention how you can mess with it, ever so slightly.
The Classic Recipe
1 part gin
1 part sweet vermouth (i.e., the red kind)
1 part Campari
(add all into a glass with ice and stir.)
Let's start with the Campari: a deep red liqueur known as an “Amaro.” We don't really drink like the Italians, but it's pretty popular for them to have super duper bitter, almost medicinal Amaros as a digestif, or after-dinner drink. Supposedly it aids with digestion. Smart money says that if you're following a glass of wine (or three) with more alcohol, it’s probably going to throw a haze over how your food is sitting.
A Wild Negroni Appears!
In any case, the Campari is the heart of the drink. On its own, I'd argue Campari is way too much. It's just a whole lot of rhubarb, cranberry like bitterness without anything working with it. Gin, long considered a flavorful spirit on its own, actually has a way of muting the bitterness. The sweet vermouth makes this a little more wine-like and knocks back the ABV a little, and all together you have a drink that's equal parts strong, sweet, bitter, and refreshing.
Note that if you're extra fancy, you can add an orange or lemon twist to this for a little extra zing. I don’t. Unless guests are coming over, I'm not going to bust out a lighter and a vegetable peeler when the lazy version is 97% as good.
Long story short, the Negroni is extremely nuanced and balanced. If you don't feel like a bona-fide grown-up while drinking this, then I don't know what to tell you.
How I make it
1.5 ounces gin
1 ounce Amaro (any kind, honestly)
1 ounce sweet vermouth
A few thoughts. Campari always gets a nod as the OG ingredient, but they're not the only game in town. St. George is making a great Amaro they call “Bruto Americano” and a buddy of mine really likes Silvio Miletti. The Bruto has more earthy, root-like flavors, and the Meletti is a little sweeter with star anise flavors.
More gin is never an absurd idea.
You may also notice the amplified gin content. If anything, my only complaint about the Negroni is that most Amaros obliterate some of the delicious crispness and pine-heavy goodness of gin—even the ginniest of gins, like Plymouth or Tanqueray. My solution is simply to use a little more. With the amaro, sweet vermouth, and ice dilution it won't be tremendously stronger or distinctively stiffer, but I like to bring forward that satisfying pop of juniper through the bitterness.
Also, as with a regular Negroni, you could use Cinzano or Martini and Rossi (vermouths so widely available I've literally seen them at gas stations), but good Vermouth lasts a long time and adds a really nice depth of flavor to a mixed drink for not very much more money. You’ll taste where the extra $5 goes.
The White Negroni
1 ounce gin
1 ounce Lillet Blanc
1 ounce Suze
If there ever was a “modern classic” cocktail, it's this. The White Negroni is an absolutely beautiful variation on the typical drink that both honors the classic format while being cleverly and deliciously divergent.
Here's the straight dope, though: this is going to be hard to source in a more rural area because it has two esoteric ingredients that really can't be substituted out. The first is Suze, a French (maybe partially Swiss?) liqueur made from gentian root. A big liquor store may stock this. Technically, Suze is an apertif rather than a digestif, which means it's a little lighter and a little brighter.
You’re an adult. You can appreciate
a little bit of extra weird stuff.
Secondly, there's Lillet Blanc. It's a French fortified white wine that's floral, crisp, sweet, and fruity. If you taste this on its own, you'll realize that there's nothing that is a perfect substitute for this. White wine is more... winey? Dry vermouth is more herbal. Lillet is its own thing. Fun fact: Lillet is Hannibal Lecter's drink of choice, according to author Thomas Harris. That speaks something of its ability to be both sophisticated and mysteriously foreign.
Add that in with the gin and the Suze, and you've got a stupid good cocktail. Easy to make, easy to enjoy, and a nice option if you find yourself getting bored with whatever you’ve usually been making these days. It may even become a new favorite.
