Hail the Sunshine
The enduring appeal of the Negroni
Daylight savings is here! Well, at least in the US it is. But still: whatever the debate over the merits in utilizing or banishing daylight savings time, that glowing date in which we spring forward is one I stare at on my calendar with longing for most of February. It may not be the official start of spring, but I see it as an accomplishment in making it through the depths of winter darkness. Sunset is now at 7:30?! Hallelujah! I’m reveling in this shift of light, fantasizing about the warmth to come. More frequent appearances from the sun, flora blooming left and right, longer days that actually feel like longer days.
I spent the winter living in the snowy woods of northern Michigan, having actually craved deep piles of snow and arctic temperatures. Now I’m wondering if part of that urge was so I could experience spring with more gratitude than I have for most of my adult life spent living in temperate climates. Whatever my subconscious reasons may be, it was kind of thrilling, and now I’m here with my well earned badge of honor in being a summer person who made it through a real winter for the first time in ages. Yes, I’m well aware everyone reading this who lives in the Midwest, New England, and Northern Europe are rolling their eyes because A) It’s highly unlikely winter is actually over in early March, and B) It’s maybe just annoying to witness me pat myself on the back for shoveling snow and rediscovering hot chocolate. Just let me have this moment. It makes the reality of another month wearing a down jacket slightly more palatable.
I’m not a winter sports person, and didn’t think I could infiltrate the local après-ski scene, so the jubilation for warmer, light-filled days ahead is all about spending time outside, both actively and idly. Swims will be had, picnics will be consumed, Vitamin D supplements will no longer be needed. And I love that first truly warm day of spring when we all collectively emerge from hibernation to inundate any sliver of grass or outdoor dining scene with our sun-deprived bodies. We’re not there yet, but I can dream of soon laying like a starfish on warm earth before meeting a friend for a festive sip or two. I’m a lightweight who doesn’t drink much alcohol to begin with, so I tend to go for something ideal for long-term sipping: the Negroni.
For me, the appeal of the Negroni is rooted in the simplicity of ingredients that deliver a marvelous bitter/sweet flavor profile. Equal parts gin, vermouth, and Campari over ice, garnished with an orange peel. It’s not a complicated cocktail and any good bartender will know how to make it. If they don’t, you’re at the wrong bar. They’re delicious, they’re a beautiful color, and more often than not will be served in a sexy cut glass lowball, thus making you feel twenty percent more sophisticated. As such, the Negroni is almost always what I want to enjoy when the occasion calls for a boozy indulgence. When that occasion is aperitivo, it’s the perfect drink to sip whilst chatting with friends or sitting solo and taking in the scenery.
Aperivito comes from the Latin aperire, meaning “to open,” and serves as a means to open the evening to food, drink, and revelry. It’s a cultural ritual in Italy to punctuate the day and whet the appetite for dinner. You do not partake in aperitivo to get drunk, but rather to savor a cocktail like the Negroni or a spritz before consuming your final meal of the day. It’s a time specifically dedicated to relaxation and enjoyment, so I’m obviously on board. All aperitivo asks of you is to slow down, to appreciate the present moment, to make time for pleasurable things.
Some bars will offer a handful of light snacks with your beverage, while others will supply a small buffet of treats that the study abroad student on a budget sees as a wonderful opportunity for a cheap dinner. I once was the latter, and am grateful to one particular cafe in Florence for keeping me and my friends well fed for weeks on end. Now, as a real adult, I enjoy seeing what will arrive with my drink to keep me sated until dinner. More often than not, potato chips are on the menu and I’m delighted. The only issue is that I’ve had potato chips paired with Negronis so often, that I now tend to crave some salty crisps whenever I have this cocktail. They’re just a perfect match for one another.
I met a friend for aperitivo on a rainy night in Bologna, the taste of bitter Campari and salty potato chips punctuating the conversation. We sat beneath ancient porticoes as our boots dripped upon terrazzo floors, trying our best to summarize the trajectory of our lives since we’d last seen each other fifteen years prior. University students passed by in various levels of costumed attire as she told me that the city was embracing Halloween a little bit more each year. I was on my usual “I’m in Italy” high, living vicariously through her stories of meeting an Italian whilst on vacation, getting married in a medieval basilica, and honeymooning in Sicily. It was one of those perfect evenings with an old friend you haven’t seen or spoken to in years and in turn are grateful to the Internet for making such an occasion happen. After a heart-swelling few hours, she caught the train to Modena for a concert, and I walked through the rain with glee, sobering up with a warm bowl of tortellini.
On a day trip to San Gimignano in which I had eaten pasta with saffron, climbed a tower, marveled at frescos, and heard a man recite Dante’s Divine Comedy in a park, I sat outside a bar with a Negroni before catching the bus back to Siena. Looking out at the piazza, I witnessed countless pictures being taken in which world famous gelato was front and center. Poses were struck with varying degrees of enthusiasm as cups and cones of pistacchio, champelmo, and stracciatella were held with pride. I finished my drink and walked down to the city walls to take in the first hints of sunset over the valley below. Few landscapes rival the romanticized beauty of the Tuscan countryside, and it’s just game over at golden hour.
About a year and a half ago, hours after my arrival to Italy, I walked the streets of Florence in something of a daze, elated and dumbfounded that a long delayed trip was finally happening. It was a warm late summer evening where you’re finally not sweating anymore and the air is so agreeable that you actually forget how uncomfortable and sticky you had been all day. The bars and cafes were full of locals and tourists cooling off with a beverage. I was more than happy to join the crowd, and wanted to do so in style. I landed on Rivoire, one of the oldest cafes in Florence, on the Piazza della Signoria, with a knockout view of Renaissance architecture and sculpture. Sitting upon a pink leather fluted chair, gazing upon the Palazzo Vecchio and Loggia dei Lanzi, sweating lowball glass in hand, I was overjoyed to be surrounded by so much beauty.
Partway through my drink, the man at the next table started chatting me up in Italian. It cannot be overstated how much of a compliment it is for me for anyone to think I am a local in a fashionable city. Unfortunately, due to my poor efforts in learning Italian prior to this trip, I was unable to keep up the façade. It turned out that my neighbor was an 82-year-old Californian enjoying a cocktail on his last night in town. He had been visiting friends in Florence for a month each year for the previous three decades and I was immediately jealous. Despite him failing to offer up the contact information of anyone with a palazzo that needed looking after, he did give me some excellent recommendations for my time in Italy. A few restaurants of note, yes, but more importantly, a reminder to always look up because there would likely be a plethora of artistic wonders to appreciate. I’ve savored an aperitivo in many wonderful places, but this will always be my favorite, not just for the spectacular view, primo cocktail, and pleasant company, but for how thoroughly ecstatic I was that evening.
Whatever your choice of drink may be, I hope you embrace the spirit of aperitivo by unwinding with friends and making time for something simple but delightful. I’ve assembled a new playlist that pairs well with cocktails and chips, and might even suggest that you share Fresh Grapes with your friends. It’s a simple but very effective way to help support this publication. I’ll be clinking glasses with you from afar in gratitude.
Cheers to the light ahead!
— Katie
yum, now I need a negroni ;)