The low-ABV aperitivo from Padua, famous in the Spritz

The classic Venetian aperitivo

The wine-based aperitivo from the excellent Alpine producer

This cocktail takes the Daiquiri’s triumvirate of rum, lime and sugar and adds elements from several sours (including the Sophisticate, which was a major influence on this spec) in the Sloppy Joe’s bar manuals from the ‘30s: crème de cacao, vermouth, and egg white. I absolutely love the way this drink turned out, and it’s extra versatile because there are two garnish options: the perennial bitters design or cold weather-friendly dusting of cocoa powder.

Longtime Club members might remember this one from the beta test month I ran back in August of 2020, wherein this drink was called The Tall Man from Havana. It has since become a Gigantic classic, where it began traveling under the name Havana Moon (named for the Chuck Berry song). The inspiration was the “Sloppy Joe’s,” the bar’s eponymous drink that combined brandy, port, pineapple, grenadine, and Curaçao. A very good example of the pre-tiki tropical genre.

The Mary Pickford appears in the Sloppy Joe’s books–a mix of rum, grenadine, pineapple, and maraschino liqueur. I took that inspiration, subbed crème de cacao in for the maraschino, added lime for acid, and a small measure of Cognac for vanilla and dried fruit notes. Pickford was a movie star, director and producer; I named this after her little sister, Charlotte, who was also an actor.

This is a little-known Mojito riff dating from the early 1930s at Sloppy Joe’s. It has everything you’d expect from a Mojito–rum, lime, sugar, mint, and soda–but adds a little bit of “French vermouth,” which I interpret here as blanc (or bianco if it’s an Italian producer). This small change adds a slightly floral note and bolsters the lime’s acidity. I like the channel-knife lime peel garnish here along with a big bouquet of mint, of course.

The Margarita is the most popular cocktail in the U.S. and variations on the template always sell well. This is my take on an aperitivo-friendly Margarita. A split base of smoky mezcal and lightly-aged reposado come together with aperitivo wine, lime, grapefruit, and agave, for an exceedingly refreshing, sort of Italianate Margarita. A salt rim tastes great here.

This is the “root drink” for this month’s recipes. It was one of those cocktails that I thought up, tried, and loved right away! This spirit-forward, bittersweet drink is adjacent to two well-known agave-based Negroni riffs: the Rosita (tequila, sweet vermouth, dry vermouth, aperitivo liqueur) and the Oaxacan Negroni (mezcal, sweet vermouth, Campari). For a little extra bitterness, opt for a grapefruit twist; orange works great here, too.

This is an exceedingly refreshing beer cocktail that’s absolutely perfect for summer. I took inspiration from several templates: the Paloma (tequila, lime, grapefruit, sugar, soda), Radlers (beer, grapefruit), the Spaghett (domestic lager, Aperol, lemon), and the Michelada (Mexican lager, salt, lime, spice sometimes tomato juice, Clamato and other ingredients).

This year, my brilliant friend and colleague Kris Kirkland came up with a drink called the Rhinestone Cowboy for the Gigantic spring menu. It consists of mezcal, reposado tequila, Cocchi Rosa, peach liqueur, grapefruit, lime, frozen peach chunks, agave, and basil. I wanted to do something similar with strawberry, so I cut out the mezcal’s smokiness in favor of more vanilla flavor from the tequila and aperitivo liqueur. The results are delicious!

As you know, my historically-driven palate favors the spirits that were popular in 19th-century juleps, i.e. rye, Cognac, and rum. For my own julep recipe, I wanted to combine these three in equal parts with a favorite amaro (Braulio or dell’erborista are particularly good here, but there are many that would work!). I also decided to make the garnish do a little aromatic work, hence the nutmeg and shaved coffee bean, which hit the nose along with the mint upon first sip. The sherry float also contributes a nice aroma if desired!

This is probably the drink that first comes to mind when you think of juleps (unless your brain is stuck in the 19th century like me)! The bourbon-based julep is the one that has survived into the modern age, thanks in no small part to its connection with the Kentucky Derby. For this recipe, I wanted it to be exceedingly elemental. Since we’ve combined the sugar and mint in our mint syrup already, this julep requires but two ingredients (plus a big bouquet of mint, of course). It is simplicity at its finest!

This recipe, based on one from the 1850s, gives a window into what pre-Civil War juleps looked like after ice had established itself as an essential part of the drink. The mixture of Cognac and rye and the slight presence of Jamaican rum illustrate the julep’s former life as a rum drink and the preference for a brandy base during this period while also foreshadowing the rise of rye juleps that would come after the Civil War (see Dabney Julep from our Pre-Civil War Black Tavern-keepers theme). NB: crushed ice is preferred over pebble here.

What’s a julep before it becomes an iced drink? Why, a Mint Sling, of course! During the eighteenth century the eastern seaboard was awash with minty, rum-based slings that also traveled under the name julep. Because we are used to chilled beverages (especially with juleps on the mind), I decided to give this tavern drink the batch-n-freeze treatment; the result is a very pleasing pour that tastes like an aged rum mojito sans ice and soda.

There’s such a vast range of bitterness within the broader category of amaro and the bottles in this chapter feature a mini range on the bitter end of the spectrum. Most amari get their bitterness from gentian, cinchona bark, wormwood, and quassia, though there are other outliers that are less commonly used (like the tree sap in the Elisir Novasalus, below). Super-bitter amari have more potent digestive properties, making them even better suited than their milder cousins for making one feel better after a big meal.

This is another “in Al’s brain” subcategory. Similarly to the the spiced amari from Chapter 5, the ones in this group bring a very common amaro ingredient–in this case, bitter orange–into the spotlight. They harken back to classic after dinner flavors, too, like mint and chocolate; it brings to mind the “dessert” sections on nineteenth-century restaurant menus, full of oranges and other fruits (fresh and dried) and nuts. I almost called this group “after-dinner digestivo” but that felt a bit too redundant!

Leave it to the Italians to use vegetables as a base for amaro–and this chapter is all about amari made from members of the thistle family. Carciofo is the specific name for amari made from artichokes, but cardoon (aka artichoke thistle) and blessed thistle are both used in various amari as well. Amari featuring these ingredients often read as vegetal and earthy; their other botanicals, as well as the base (spirit vs. wine), differentiate the members of this family from one another.

Many amari feature spice notes–like baking spices and vanilla–as supporting characters, but there are some that feature spices as their primary flavors. This is another one of those subcategories that isn’t formally defined (it just exists in my head) and these three bottles came to mind immediately as perfect examples to illustrate what I mean.

Many people don’t know that fernet isn’t a product made by a single producer–Fratelli Branca–but a subcategory of amaro. It should be said, though, that its categorization as an amaro is sometimes disputed because many fernets are technically not liqueurs (contain no sugar except to color the spirit).