Acquired Taste Part 2
Italy’s Love Affair with
Bitter Liqueurs 

(Bitter) Italy’s love for bitterness knows no boundary between what is eaten and what is drunk. Once intended as medicine—aid for digestion, purification, strength—it has long since become a cornerstone of everyday pleasure: in the inky black of espresso, the ruby glow of an aperitif, the lingering herbal echo of an Amaro.

You’ll find it in the deep aromatic layers of Italian life: in time-honored recipes, artisanal producers, citrus groves and garden plots. Bitterness here is many things at once: indulgence, remedy, ritual.

Bitter in the Cup, Bitter in the Glass
On closer inspection, many Italian specialties are built on bitterness. Whether from a Bialetti or a portafilter machine, coffee must be strong, with perfect crema and at least a hint of bitterness. Italians spend over seven billion euros a year on coffee outside the home. Alongside giants like Illy and Lavazza, a growing number of micro-roasters are emerging. Among the best is Dropstery, founded in Turin in 2016 by Maurizio Galiano, a Slow Food member who also advocates for sustainable production. Also worth noting: D612 in Florence and RoaTS in coffee-loving Trieste.

Your espresso might be accompanied by a piece of chocolate from Merano’s 58 Chocolat manufactory. Among René Romen’s most popular varieties are Dark Espresso and Dark Juniper, both with over 70% cocoa. His Dark Sea Salt bar, also extra bitter, plays on the flavor principle that salt can soften bitterness and enhance other notes—in this case, the chocolate’s sweetness. Espresso with a spoonful of sugar? Same idea.

A Sip of Medicine
As the Italian day progresses, it becomes more likely that something stronger than coffee will fill your glass. “Drinking an amaro at the end of a convivial meal is a very old tradition—not just for digestion, but as a closing ritual to a shared experience,” explains Riccardo Molinero. His distillery, Bordiga 1888, is named for its founding year and based in Cuneo, Piedmont. Alongside vermouth, its flagship products include amari like Dilei, St. Hubertus, and Monasticus. The alpine herbs used are hand-harvested—except for the protected Artemisia genipi—and all grow wild. “I recommend drinking our amaro neat, maybe with an ice cube and a twist of lemon or orange,” says Molinero. “Tonic works too—and with prosecco, it becomes an Amaro Spritz.”

From A for Averna to Z for Zucca
In Italian, “amaro” means “bitter”—a reference to the country’s beloved bitter liqueurs.

Many of these recipes have monastic origins, so those apothecary-style bottles are more than just a marketing gimmick. From A for Averna to Z for Zucca, the list of globally popular brands is long. What would a pranzo be without a digestive Ramazzotti, or a cena without Fernet Branca? A summer without Campari Soda—Samin Nosrat, author of the bestseller Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat, recommends adding a pinch of salt—or an Aperol Spritz? Just as delicious is the Cynar Spritz, made with the namesake artichoke liqueur.

Also gaining popularity is the Negroni, made in equal parts with gin, Campari, and dry vermouth. It was invented around 1920 in Turin in honor of the count of the same name, who allegedly drank up to forty a day. In Milan’s Bar Basso—especially busy during Fashion Week and Salone del Mobile—the Negroni Sbagliato was born, made with sparkling prosecco instead of gin.

Thanks to producers like Cocchi and Antica Torino, Turin is considered a vermouth capital. There you’ll find Bar Cavour, styled like a dark, elegant American bar with brass lamps, velvet armchairs, and a gold-leaf ceiling designed by Venetian artist Arturo Herrera. Signature cocktails include Del Professore Vermouth topped with mint soda; a Negroni enhanced with nori seaweed; the Torino Mule made with Campari, Cynar, and ginger beer; and the Martini del Cambio, featuring the Piedmont-made vermouth, 9 Di Dante Purgatorio.

For some artisanal producers, amaro is just a side project—like at COS, a Sicilian winery run by an architect duo. Their Naturale amaro seduces with notes of licorice, lemon mint, wild strawberry, and the blood orange so typical of southern Italy. The Cipriani Amaro 7 Parti hails from the spirit of the legendary Harry’s Bar in Venice and features Carciofo Violetto artichokes from the Venetian island of Sant’Antonio. The Hàntak is produced near Verona, and its unusual name comes from the language of the ancient Cimbri tribe and translates to “bitter.”