The Negroni

A man walks into a bar. But this one is no joke….

It’s 1919. The bar is in Florence. The Man is Count Camillo Negroni, a picaresque Italian aristocrat and early ’playboy’ who spent much of his time traveling around Europe and beyond (allegedly avoiding both scandal and Italian Military drafting) with his grandfather, Count Luigi Negroni, one step ahead of responsibility, one sip away from sobriety.

The Count ordered a ‘Milano-Torino’ (a MiTo) an 1860s cocktail, invented by Gaspare Campari at his Caffe Camparino bar in Milan (it takes its name from its two main ingredients: Campari (from Milan) and rosso vermouth (from Turin) – it was later popularised by thirsty American travellers escaping prohibition, who would often dilute their MiTo with a splash of soda water, hence also being known as an Americano).

Back to our raffish and debonair Count propping up the bar at his regular haunt, Caffè Casoni (later named Caffè Giacosa) on Via de’ Tornabuoni in Florence. His mother was English (as too was his eventual wife) and having returned fresh from England, via Holland, he had developed the taste for Gin. Specifically, London Dry gin.

…..AND so, as the barman makes his drink, the Count asks for ‘more kick’ and orders no soda, but to top the drink with Gin. The barman obliges, and in a final flourish, replaces the standard lemon garnish with a slice of orange.

Seen as the epitome of the early 20^th Century Florentine social scene, and renowned well-travelled nobiluomo, more and more patrons started ordering their MiTo/Americanos to made ‘The Negroni Way’ or simply, ‘one of Negroni’s drinks’. Before long, it just became known as ‘a Negroni’.

[NB, there are other theories (including reference to the 19^th Century cocktail, the Camperinete which boasted ¼ Campari, ¼ Italian Vermouth & ½ Dry Gin), but let’s move on to the drink itself…]

My love for the Negroni goes deep. My first ever was in 2017. I was meeting client Theo Paphitis for dinner to congratulate me for a charity fundraising award win.

He called to say he was running late, and to grab an aperitivo at my hotel bar whilst I waited for him to pick me up. This was in The American Bar at The Savoy.

I didn’t order it; I just told them I needed a quick aperitivo at the barman’s recommendation. A negroni appeared. I loved the colour, the presentation, but the first taste detonated my taste buds and near blew my eyeballs out. But the lingering taste had me taking a second sip before I’d even put the glass down. I’d been seduced by a crimson paramour, a perfectly balanced thunderbolt.

The dryness of the gin underpinned by crisp botanicals, the slightly spicy sweetness of the red vermouth and the bitter finish of the Campari to give that lingering taste, all pulled together with the sweet citrus notes from the orange garnish.

I was solely a wine guy up until that point. I loved the education, breaking down the tastes, the notes, the different phases on the palate and savoured lingering flavours. That Negroni confused the hell out of my amateur wine palate. But…I’d only really drunk to enjoy the experience, the taste, the occasion. The Negroni hit that same mark.

It’s now my go-to drink. At home (where I have the supplies and variety of component options to rival any cocktail bar), as an afternoon cocktail, an aperitivo at restaurants, a nightcap in hotels, in bars good and bad, on holiday.

I’ve drunk them in a suit at a wedding, in flip flops on the beach. In the water at a pool bar or at Al Capone’s table at the Chicago Athletic Club. Three storeys below ground in a London speakeasy or 52 stories up at GŎNG in the Shard; anywhere, anytime, anyplace as the most famous vermouth’s 1970s advertising slogan rather appropriately repeats.

I’ve mixed them at home, at friends’ houses, whilst camping, on the beach, on boats, in a motorhome at 130kph for 5 friends en route back from the Tour de France, even on a plane. I’ve got a portable cocktail case that fits all the required contraband & equipment and a perfect sized hip flask that holds enough for two (or one large one).

Some are good, some are bad; but even the bad ones are good, as there is rarely such a thing as a bad Negroni, which in turn holds the key to its popularity. The 1:1:1 ratio of ingredients makes it just about foolproof.

Any bartender can mix a Negroni if they have the ingredients, and if they can’t, instructing them is easy (see the reference to making one on a plane above).

It’s an aperitivo. It’s a digestivo. It’s a consolation or a celebration. It’s perfect at the end of a long day of interviews, or a long day travelling, or just a long day. Or just the end of a day.

Anyone that follows me on Instagram will know that alongside humourous job applications and responses to rejection emails, my feed is extensively populated by my Negronis. It’s created a whole new network of friends around the world and venue recommendations. I get tagged in other’s images, asked questions on my methodology, sent new vermouths and barware to try. I also get sent new Negronis recipes….

Now on that, I’m a bit of a purist. There are some mild variations on the standard recipe that I’ve been introduced to, some are good (see here) but for me, nothing can improve on the original drink Count Negroni invented that day in Florence.

The Original Negroni (a more comprehensive methodology can be found here)

25^ml Dry Gin
25^ml Campari
25^ml Sweet (Red) Vermouth

Pour all ingredients into a mixing glass and stir, (stir, don’t shake or you will dilute and aerate the drink, affecting the drink’s texture).
Strain the combined ingredients into rocks glass with one large piece of ice.
Garnish with a shave of orange zest, twisting over the glass to allow the oils to spray over the drink.
Imbibe lovingly, toasting the Count still propping up the bar at Caffè Casoni, smiling at the alchemy he unwittingly bestowed upon us.

“Salute”