“Try this. It’s an acquired taste.”
This is something people usually tell you just before they give you something really awful to eat or drink. And I’m pretty sure this is what my ex-girlfriend said to me one night, early in our affair, before I lifted the highball to my lips and took a sip of the pale red potable she had prepared. To my (and her) surprise, I loved it - the drink, that is.
What was this liquid aphrodisiac, you ask.
It was a Campari & Soda and I had never tasted anything quite like this distinctively herbal, slightly medicinal, sweet and bitter liqueur. It instantly became my signature cocktail (everyone should have one). As such, I thought it my duty to learn a thing or two about Campari.

La Storia
Developed in 1860 by Gaspare Campari - a genius, really - Campari is fundamentally a combination of cascarilla bark (the main culprit behind the bitterness), orange peel, ginger, rhubarb, and bitter herbs steeped in alcohol spirits. Even after nearly 150 years, the exact ingredients (there are over 60) are still kept a closely guarded secret. Campari is traditionally served as an aperitif to whet the appetite, but that doesn’t stop me from enjoying it as an anytime cocktail (as I did Monday night at the Wine Bar).

This is not something a stringent vegan wants to hear.
Luckily, however, I don’t believe in marriage. So, after my split from veganism and a little flexibility in my newly claimed (and slightly more malleable) vegetarianism, what were a few bug bones?
Interestingly, the dried pulverized bodies of the cochineal are responsible for the crimson hue of Campari.
Wonder how Gaspare came up with that one?
Branding and appeal, really. Red symbolized royalty and other fabulous things (cogito ergo sum, right?) and it also happened to be a pretty expensive dye in the 1860’s – probably due to the time and labor that went into finding and smashing all those poor insects. The high cost could actually be attributed to the original source of the red pigment – not the cochineal, but a more elusive Mediterranean bug called the Kermes Vermilio.
Un Vetro Del Passione Vale...
Perhaps it's the memories of my lascivious introduction to this curious crimson concoction or maybe it's the mostly bitter/slightly sweet deliciousness that characterizes this Italian staple, either way, it’s undeniable that there is something incredibly seductive about Campari (just check out their recent ads featuring Selma Hayek – hot).
So, go ahead, head to The Wine Bar and try a Campari cocktail. The most popular, though not my style, is the Negroni: equal parts gin, sweet vermouth and Campari. If you want to keep it simple, opt for a classic and clean Campari & Soda.
After your first sip, you’ll either love it or you won't.
Just remember to give it a few tries. It is an acquired taste after all.

2 comments:
nobreakshitsawfulbreakstupidspacebarnotworking
Do you think Peabody's has a good Campari? Um.... nah. I had a really awful mojito recently, though fundamentally better than Peabody's classic, "I don't know what a mjito is so I'll throw in a little vodka, and some weird fake lime juice. There. Mojito. Don't worry. I will make killer mojitos for OFC even if they don't contain sugar cane.
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