Campari Original

Gaspare Campari mixed the first batch behind his bar in Milan in 1860, and for most of the century that followed the vivid red came from crushed cochineal beetles. That's gone now, but the attitude hasn't — Campari is still the uncompromising one, the bitter that refuses to soften itself for anyone.

The botanical recipe is one of the best-kept secrets in drinks, known to only a handful of people. Chinotto and cascarilla are widely credited, layered over a tangle of herbs and citrus peels that gives Campari its unmistakable, almost medicinal depth. At 25% it has real presence.

Expect a nose of bitter orange and clove-like spice. The palate is bracing and properly bitter, orange rind wrapped around dark herbal and root notes, with a grip that lingers long after the sip. This is not a drink that flatters you — it's a drink that respects you enough to be difficult, and rewards you once you're in.

The classic base of a Negroni and the anchor of an Americano, Campari earns its place before dinner. Give it a couple of tries if the bitterness surprises you at first; it tends to become an obsession.

How to Serve

Build a Negroni — equal parts Campari, gin and sweet vermouth over ice, orange peel expressed on top. For something lighter, an Americano with sweet vermouth and soda. Neat over ice suits the initiated.

Where to Drink It

The Connaught Bar in Mayfair for a Negroni made with real ceremony. Bar Termini in Soho for Italian precision. Dukes Bar in St James's when you want the classic done properly.

Food Pairings

A Negroni loves fatty, salty things — pour one next to a plate of nduja on toast and watch the bitterness cut clean through.