Five amari (bittered wines and spirits) that I love.
Cocchi Americano Rosa
The lightest, brightest, most engaging of amari is this aromatic concoction from the famed Cocchi Vermouth diTorino producers. It borders on the addictive. Lightly structured, perfectly balanced between the opposite tensions of bitter and sweet, the Rosa uses two unexpected grapes for its base: Brachetto, most often used for deep pink sparkling wine, and Malvasia Nera, a little known grape with pungent aromatics and fat textures.
Cocchi makes a more traditional “Americano” aperitif as well. The terminology is a bit confusing because there is a cocktail dubbed the Americano, a combination of Campari bitter liqueur, sweet vermouth and soda, and then there’s the Italian aperitif, also dubbed Americano. Cocchi Americano Rosa is like neither of these; it is a fragrant step beyond with its beguiling aromatics.
Although splendid in its versatility as a cocktail ingredient, it stands alone as an aperitif. Pour a healthy serving of Rosa on the rocks, add a twist of grapefruit peel, and that’s all you need. If you wish, you can add a splash of soda, or a dollop of Prosecco. Fair warning: this is a beguiling aperitif; you may well fall in love with it instantly, as I did.
Amaro Montenegro
The first time I had this amaro was in Italy. I was enthralled. Distribution in the U.S. was haphazard at best, or non-existent at worst, so it faded in my memories over time Then, in Canada while teaching a spirits certification class, I saw that lovely distinctive bottle on a shelf, rejoiced, and renewed my acquaintance with this lovely---and admittedly on the sweet side---amaro dominated by succulent bittersweet orange. Straight or in a cocktail---craft bartenders love it---Amaro Montenegro is one truly fine sip.
Averna
This, more than any other on the list, is closely associated with experience and memory. A group I associated with professionally, mostly from New York, had established a tradition---who knows how it began---of drinking shots of Averna from Sicily after copious dinners. If there was a bottle in the place, we would empty it. If there wasn’t, we’d often smuggle in our own. And empty it.
The group has long dispersed but my affection for Averna has not diminished. I think of it as my “root beer of amaro.”
Barolo Chinato
(First, it's pronounced “key-NAH-to”. The CH in Italian is signifies a hard K.)
In the Piedmont region of Italy this complex bittered beverage made by blending selected botanicals in a barrel of Barolo (nebbiolo) was traditionally reserved for the frugal locals for their own enjoyment.
The wine base gives it a lower alcohol profile along with rich flavors of one of the most noble grape varieties; the local botanicals add not just the bittering agents that make it chinato (bitter quinine) but a kaleidoscope of herbs and spice, and the barrel aging mellows and rounds out the amaro with notes of vanilla and sweet caramel.
Barolo Chinato is usually served as a digestif in small amounts after a sumptuous dinner; it is a perfect contemplative moment, sitting on the Belvedere, well-fed and satisfied, looking over the rolling foothills, sipping a glass of Barolo Chinato.
There is a remarkably good American version of Chinato as well, made by winemaker Patrick Taylor of Cana's Feast in Oregon. It is dubbed Chinato de Erbetti (Wine with bittered herbs), and is made from Washington state nebbiolo wine mixed with Patrick's secret botanical formula.
Nonino Quintessentia
Is there love at first sight? I don’t know. But there’s definitely love at first taste with the Nonino Quintessentia. I place this amaro in a class by itself. It’s not the most powerful, the sweetest, or most bitter, but it is a superbly balanced blend of ever-changing aromas and flavors, sometimes delicate and ephemeral, sometimes unmistakable in their clarity and precision.
The Nonino family of Friuli in northwestern Italy is most famous for their distillations of grappa, having elevated that formerly disreputable rough spirit into an art form with single variety grapes from some of the finest vineyards. They also make a niche article, a honey brandy of sorts called “agrumi,” made from the beehives situated next to different trees bordering the vineyards, more akin to a delicate perfume than anything else, with subtle echoes of the orange blossoms, acacia trees and other plants surrounding the vines.
But their masterpiece is the Quintessentia, complex beyond belief and endlessly fascinating with an aromatic and textural base of grape distillate, selected botanicals from the mountains that fringe Friuli, and the smooth mellow glow from oak aging. Quintessentia is just as good an aperitif as a digestif, and versatile in cocktails.
Try a Quintessentia Manhattan: simply add a small amount of this marvelous elixir to your Manhattan (whiskey, sweet vermouth and bitters), or replace the sweet vermouth with the Quinessentia to magically transform it to a multi-layered, multi-flavored, dynamic cocktail that reveals new facets of flavor with each sip.
Amari is fun to discuss with devoted spirit fans. Everybody has their own mix of favorites; the balances of bitterness, botanical flavors and sweetness are highly variable and endlessly debated, and it all comes down to what you individually prefer. Amongst spirit professionals, Fernet Branca is hugely popular---it’s often called the “bartender’s handshake”---but to some it is most reminiscent of mud and tar. Another controversial, but often strangely charming, amaro is the “rabarbaro”, based on the bitter rhubarb. Yet another is the bitter aperitif Cynar, based on artichokes, and various cousins based on cardoons and “Blessed Thistle.”
You simply may not like the excessive bitterness of amari. Many people don’t. If you haven’t tried them before, you may not care for your first taste. On the other hand, you may find a lifelong fascination in a pungently complex and hugely satisfying amaro.
