It is 6pm in Florence, the light has turned the colour of apricot, and the whole city appears to have downed tools for one sacred purpose: a drink before dinner. This is the aperitivo hour, Italy's most civilised institution. And more and more Florentines are holding a glass of Santoni.

Santoni L'Aperitivo is a Tuscan take on the pre-dinner ritual, and it arrives with a quiet confidence. It sits between wine and spirit in strength, at 16%, and it is unapologetically drier and more grown-up than the neon crowd it shares a shelf with. This is not a poolside gulp. It is an appetite, sharpened.

One for the in-the-know: the new-look Santoni is exclusive to House of Decant until September. So if this is the first time you are clapping eyes on the redesign, you are officially ahead of the curve. Consider it a small perk of drinking with us.

Born in Florence

It comes from Florence, which tells you plenty. This is a city that has spent six hundred years making things that are beautiful and useful at the same time, and doing it without visible effort. An aperitivo from here was never going to be a gimmick. Santoni feels handmade rather than manufactured, Tuscan rather than generic, and it is all the better for it.

Thirty-Four Botanicals and a Stick of Rhubarb

The recipe runs to thirty-four botanicals, but one does most of the talking: rhubarb, all earthy bite and gentle bitterness. Around it sit orris root (the same iris the perfumers prize), sour orange for lift, and, in a lovely local wink, olive leaf. The result is citrus and rose up front, then that herbaceous, rhubarby bitterness underneath. Lightly sweet, yet it finishes clean and just a little bitter, which is precisely the point.

The Anti-Aperol

If your experience of the Italian spritz begins and ends with a sugary orange sea of the big-brand stuff, Santoni is the correction. Less sweet, more herbal, naturally more restrained. Where the household names shout, this one has a conversation. It is the difference between a holiday cliché and an actual Tuscan aperitivo, and once you have tasted the real thing it is very hard to go back.

How to Drink It

The house serve could not be simpler. Pour equal parts Santoni and prosecco over plenty of ice, top with a splash of soda and a slice of orange, and you have a spritz with an actual backbone. Prefer something quieter? Santoni over ice with an orange twist is a lovely, low-key way to open an evening. And if you like a project, it drops straight into an Americano, or a lighter Negroni, in place of the usual red bitter.

The Ritual, Reclaimed

The aperitivo was never really about the alcohol. It is about the pause: the bitterness that wakes the appetite, the small plates, the hour when the day tips into the evening. Santoni understands this in its bones. It is lower in sugar than the mass-market crowd, it happens to be vegan, and it is made the artisanal way rather than the industrial one. Fewer additives, more actual flavour.

So the next time 6pm rolls around, skip the orange sea. Build a Santoni spritz, put out some olives and a wedge of pecorino, and borrow the one Italian habit worth stealing wholesale. Dinner can wait. This bit is the good part.