Exploring Negroni Variations: Recipes and Their Stories

I’m a purist. A Negroni is simple. Three equal parts. Simple.

But the Negroni has transcended from just a cocktail to a family of options. A dialect that retains bitterness and balance but often given a new riff by bartenders across the world, every one with a story; and every variation, from the accidental to the intentional, tells you something about where it was born.

So, here’s a dance with blasphemy, a few variations that I do enjoy. Not so much an offence to traditional, more a collection of options that shouldn’t work but do. Accidents that became gospel, variations that bring an alternative dimension to religious doctrine.

THE AMERICANO, The Primer Before The Prayer

Before anyone stirred gin into the bloodstream of this thing, there was the Americano. A sepia-toned aperitivo from the 1860s: Milan offering Campari, Torino offering vermouth, a splash of soda water playing peacemaker. Light, bitter, refreshing, the Negroni before adulthood, before responsibility, before gin swaggered in and changed the trajectory of history.

Recipe

1 oz (30 ml) Campari
1 oz (30 ml) sweet vermouth
Soda water
Strip of lemon peel to garnish

THE NEGRONI SBAGLIATO, The Best Mistake Milan Ever Made

Only the Italians could turn an accident into canon. (Negroni Sbagliato literally translates to Mistaken Negroni)

At Bar Basso, a bartender reached for gin and grabbed Prosecco instead. Before he could apologise, the customer suggested giving it a try. And just like that, a mistake became history. The Sbagliato is the Negroni with its tie loosened, shoes off, laughing at its own misfortune.

Recipe

1 oz (30 ml) sweet vermouth
1 oz (30 ml) Campari
1 oz (30 ml) Prosecco
Orange slice for garnish

Elevate the drink further by swapping Prosecco for Champagne. Less a mistake, more of a statement.

THE NEGRONI SVEGLIATO, Salvatore Calabrese’s Caffeinated Fever Dream

Invented by Salvatore Calabrese, the Cocktail Maestro, in Las Vegas where the casino punters needed energy to fuel their all-night endeavours. (Negroni Svegliato literally translates to Negroni Wake-Up).

This is possibly the variation I make the most. It takes a moment of preparation, starting by brewing espresso in a Moka Pot, but using sweet vermouth instead of water.

Let that sink in.

The resulting vermouth-infused coffee (or coffee infused vermouth?) tastes like the boozy cousin of a brandy truffle. Fold it into the holy trinity and you get a Negroni that wakes you up spiritually as much as physically.

Recipe

1 oz (30 ml) gin
1 oz (30 ml) Campari
1 oz (30 ml) coffee-infused sweet vermouth

(NB, for a cheat version, you can buy Mancino Kopi Vermouth, you’ll forgo most of the caffeine content, but it does give the Negroni a slight Tiramisu note)

ANTONIO’S COFFEE NEGRONI, Darkness with a Smile

A twist on the Svegliato, hailing from the lobby bar at the Grand Hotel Vesuvio in Naples, which belies its setting and feels more like the living room of an Italian aristocrat rather than a hotel bar. At its centre: Antonio, Grand Hotel Vesuvio’s head barman. Reserved at first, then, once you find the right conversational key, a torrent of charm, wit and Negroni devotion.

His variation simply adds a whisper of coffee liqueur and a few coffee beans as theatrical garnish. It shouldn’t work. It absolutely does, with a depth that defies senses. It tastes like the drink you’d order after telling someone a secret you didn’t mean to share.

Recipe

1 oz (30 ml) gin
1 oz (30 ml) Campari
1 oz (30 ml) sweet vermouth
⅓ oz (10 ml) coffee liqueur (Bepi Tosolini Exprè is my go-to, but others are available)
Orange slice + coffee beans (optional)

ALESSANDRO’S ENGLISH NEGRONI, Dukes Does Not Miss

Down the quiet St James’s Place in Mayfair sits Dukes Hotel, a hotel known best for its connection to Ian Fleming and James Bond. Unsurprisingly, the head barman in Dukes Bar, Alessandro Palazzi, is equally famous for crafting exquisite Martinis with sharper etiquette than most embassies.

Alessandro rules it with charm and precision, crafting martinis so lethal they come with legal disclaimers. But ask him what he drinks and he’ll point you toward his Negroni, built with three Sacred Spirits from a small Highgate distillery.

This is the Negroni dressed in an English suit but still speaking Italian at home. Calm, clean, quietly powerful.

Recipe

1 oz (30 ml) Sacred Spirits gin (I use Sacred’s Christmas Pudding Gin for extra ‘zap’)
1 oz (30 ml) Sacred Spirits rosehip cup
1 oz (30 ml) Sacred Spirits spiced vermouth
Orange slice for garnish

THE BOULEVARDIER, When Paris Got Involved

In 1920s Paris, the Negroni took a detour down a darker, richer road. Bourbon instead of gin. A shift from crisp to velvety. The Boulevardier is the cocktail version of a velvet smoking jacket, elegant, heavy, a little indulgent.

I drink it rarely, but I respect it deeply. It’s the Negroni’s brooding older brother who reads poetry and drinks slowly.

Recipe

1 oz (30 ml) bourbon
1 oz (30 ml) sweet vermouth
1 oz (30 ml) Campari
Orange slice for garnish

THE NEGRONI BIANCO (Dante’s Exception), White Magic In New York

I usually maintain a strict “no Negroni Bianco” policy. It’s a creed, not a suggestion.

However, Dante in New York breaks rules with style. Their white Negroni swaps out the red for herbaceous vermouths, quinquina, citrus bitters, a bright, botanical reinterpretation that shouldn’t make sense but absolutely does.

Even the garnish, a sprig of baby’s breath, feels outrageous until you taste the drink. Then suddenly it’s poetry.

Recipe

Lemon twist (for the rim)
1 oz (30 ml) Brooklyn gin
½ oz (15 ml) Alessio Bianco vermouth
½ oz (15 ml) Carpano Dry vermouth
1 oz (30 ml) quinquina
2 dashes lemon bitters
Dash of verjus
Baby’s breath (optional)

THE STRAWBERRY PINK PEPPERCORN NEGRONI, Summer Misbehaving Beautifully

And then there are the variations that colour outside the lines with reckless abandon, the ones that make the purists clutch their pearls and the rest of us reach for another glass.

This is a summer Negroni that doesn’t apologise for being bright, playful, and dangerously crushable. Think of it as the love child of the Italian Negroni and the British Pimms.

Lillet Rosé replaces vermouth, Luxardo Bitter Bianco steps in for Campari, and a homemade strawberry–pink peppercorn gin brings the kind of fruit-kissed aroma that makes the whole thing feel like summer in liquid form.

For added depth and pure mischief, add a tiny drop of olive oil on top. Outrageous.
And outrageously good.

Recipe, Serves 8