A Digestifs Digest: Exploring Italy’s Local Amari

Amaro (meaning “bitter” in Italian) is a class of Italian bitter liqueurs usually drunk as aperitifs or digestifs. It has been on the upswing in the US for about two decades now, since the cocktail world awoke to Campari and Fernet Branca in the early aughts. In Italy, amaro is usually drunk straight, or with ice; cocktails with amari are starting to appear but are still fairly rare.

Amaro is traditionally made by infusing grape brandy with a (usually secret) blend of herbs, aromatic bark, citrus peel and spices. As the name suggests, there is usually some bitterness to it, though it ranges in intensity from subtle to gut punch. For lots more details, see this canonical overview of common amari (note that there are four pages)

Having been a fan of them for many years, I’ve tried or bought most of the ones common in the US — Montenegro, Cynar, Averna, Nonino, Ramazzoti , Fernet Branca, CioCiaro, and the more advanced Sfumato and Sibilla. But coming to their birthland, I couldn’t resist searching out rare local and artisanal bottlings.

So here’s a survey of 19 amari that are rare or unavailable in the US and for which I kept meaningful notes, from the alpine quaffs of the Dolomites, to the bitter orange-heavy libations of Sicily.

Pro tip: check out my reviews of the best craft cocktail bars across the world, including London, Tokyo and Chiang Mai.

Where to sample amaro in Italy

Most bars in Italy will have a small selection of amari, but going beyond the basics is actually not so simple. If you’re driving around, you can also visit the producers and sample the amari directly — check out this exhaustive and absolutely massive map.

But that wasn’t an option for me. So based on considerable googling and reddit searches, I found that unless you’re willing to buy whole bottles in wine stores, you are forced to seek out the rare bars that specialize in amaro (amaroteca) or find that rare wine store that both has an amaro selection and does tastings. I was able to find three such places across our month in Italy —

Rubik, Bologna

A tiny cafe/bar near the historic center of the city (and the university), Rubik boasts an impressive collection. Not really a place to chat with the bartenders, as there are no seats inside (only a few tables outside the bar), I still struck up a conversation with Giovanni over my visits there. He was happy to chat about amaro culture, and lamented the Italian bureaucracy which prevented them from opening a second location.

Aside from offering cheap tastes of individual amari (and excellent guidance on selection), they also have a menu of twists on classic cocktails smartly incorporating different amari. For the most parts, the drinks are pretty simple, which is not surprising, since other than the bitter vegetal/earthy bottlings (Campari, Cynar, Sfumato, Fernet, etc.), they can be tough to integrate into a cocktail except as a highlight.

amaro bar in bologna — Part of the amaro collection at Rubik, Bologna

Enoteca Alessio, Florence

In Florence, although my search turned up several bars offering craft cocktails, nothing promised to offer much in the way of tasting local amaro bottlings. I did find this large wine store that offered wine tastings, as well as a pre fixe amaro tasting. It was a decent selection of different regions and styles, but since it’s located a block from the Duomo, the price was exorbitant.

amaro tasting florence — Amaro tasting at Enoteca Alessio

Il Marchese

Unsurprisingly (in that all roads lead to Rome), the Mecca of amaro is to be found in Rome. Though it’s a restaurant, rather than a dedicated bar, Il Marchese claims to have 600 different amari.

They do offer a menu of interesting amaro-centric cocktails, but since I had the single-minded goal of trying new amari, I only sampled one of those. Rosario and his colleagues then guided me through taste after taste of different bottles in response to my increasingly esoteric requests

amaros in rome — The shelf overflowing with bottles filled me with glee when I first sat down. When the three barmen started debating what I should try next, I was over the moon

If you are reading this sitting in the US, a lot of the Amari below will be out of reach for now. In the mean time, check out Shaker and Spoon

Amari sampled

The best -- dont’t miss these!

Amaro Santoni. In doing research on what amaros to try while in Italy, I came across a post strenuously insisting that this must be tried at all costs. Unable to find it in Bologna or Florence (even though it’s apparently from Florence), I succeeded at Il Marchese. And a good thing too, as this is a completely different style of amaro from others I’ve tried (and delicious): spicy, carrot notes, a bit of Campari’s earthy flavor, a bit of clove. It is moderately sweet, less than St. Antonio, for example. Unlike most amari, which celebrate their centuries-old provenance, this was only created in 1961. Works for me.

Amaro Formidabile. Another amaro that was highly recommended, and again, only found in Rome (from where it hails). Dark orange in color, it also sports a unique profile like Santoni — of artichoke (not bitter like Cynar though), with earthy bark flavors and a spicy caramel finish. It is on the sweeter side, though not the sweetest I’ve tried.

Roger. Hailing from Calabria (the nose of the Italian boot), its core ingredients are various species of orange, mostly bitter. Yet its flavor is vegetal rather than orange-heavy, like Nonino or Montenegro. In fact, it’s most similar to Cynar and Sfumato, though probably a bit less bitter than the latter.

Luxardo St. Antonio, Padova. I’m unclear if this technically counts as an amaro rather than a liqueur, but it is probably my favorite discovery in Italy! To date, it’s the only spirit bottle I have bought on our trip. It’s got lovely green herbs on the nose with a bit of cacao flavor, and light anise or fennel on back palate. It’s definitely on the sweeter side, but I can’t wait to sip it over ice. Although it’s 40% alcohol, it is very smooth and reminiscent of Chartreuse, though with a different central flavor note.

Of Amaro Bonollo. Produced in the northern Lombardi region. I really struggled to put the flavor into words; something like Christmas spices or bread pudding. Quite pleasant indeed.

Due to their complexity and variety, I have yet to see any kind of a consensus on an amaro taxonomy. But the rest of the amari I tried this month mostly fit into several categories based on origin and/or style:

Alpine herbal (“Ricola”)

Amaro Nardini. Liquid Ricola. Produced in the Alpine foothills, it appropriately has the herbal profile of the ubiquitous cough drop and is similarly quite sweet.

La Valdotaine’s Dente di Leone. Italian for “wild dandelion,” its core ingredient, this amaro hails from very north of Italian Dolomites, near the Swiss border. Like many alpine amari it has a herbal-floral profile, with a pronounced Ricola flavor. It is lightly bitter, fairly sweet and viscous.

Bordiga St. Hubertus Riserva Amaro. Produced in Piedmont like Dente di Leone, it likewise sports the familiar flavor, but with stronger mint notes.

Vegetal/bitter

Amaro dell'Erborista. This is a bit of a cheat since Erborista is widely available in the US, but I hadn’t tried it until now. I found it to be smokey with a little darjeeling flavor (is this what the description means by “sandlewood”?), a little spicy, moderately bitter and viscous. It’s produced in east central Italy, in the same area as Amaro Sibilla, so it’s probably no accident that it’s similarly intense in flavor, though not as bitter as Sibilla.

Zucca Rabarbaro. Since rhubarb, its base, has a rather subtle flavor, Zucca’s taste is “broadly vegetal.” It is much less bitter, much thinner, and sweeter than Sfumato. Interestingly, it feels both pleasantly diluted and quite sweet. Produced in Milan.

Fred Jerbis Fernet. Included here mostly for completeness, as it was my least favorite, though quite expensive. To me it smacked of cleaning product — amonia? It was moderately bitter, with a profile otherwise reminiscent of Sibilla, though less intense. Produced near Venice, in the Dolomite foothills.

Single note bottlings

Classic amari tend to boast dozens — if not hundreds — of ingredients, often secret. However, some more recent bottlings offer one main note to the palate.

Amaro Gariga. Basically a sweet thyme infusion, but in a pleasant, sip-able way. You’re not likely to drink more than a shot of this straight, but it can add a great note in savory, herbal cocktails. Made in Puglia (the boot region of Italy).

Fragrante Amaro Insolito. Insolito’s flavor is mostly rosemary, although with a significant mint note. Fragrante comes from Sorrento, but oddly enough, doesn’t have much lemon to it.

Argala Figli dei Fiore - Gelsomino. This is another cheat, as it’s not an amaro (bitter) but rather a liqueur with one core flavor: “jasmine.” At least that’s what they claim, though the perceived flavor is not jasmine, but more like that of the small white flowers of Queen Anne’s lace or chamomile, and is lightly sweet. “Figli dei Fiore” means flower power, and Argala apparently has a whole line of single flower liqueurs.

Miscellaneous

Since I was deliberately seeking unusual flavors, many amari that I tried resisted classic categories and are all over the map.

Amaro Blu. I asked for something very different at Rubik and got this. Indeed, it is very unusual, sort of tastes like the sea, though not actually salty. It’s whiskey-based, with a hint absinthe, quite minty, somewhat sweet, and a little strong. Gotha Spirits, the producer, is actually based in Bologna.

L'orvietan. Dry and generically herbal in flavor, it is misty yellow in color, lightly medicin-y, it is only slightly bitter. Produced near Rome using a recipe that dates back to 1603.

Intervallo Amaro Da Salotto. Another Calabrian offering. Unlike Roger, which is made with oranges but has a vegetal profile, Da Salotto doesn’t have any citrus but has the classic bitter orange flavor (think Nonino or Montenegro).

Amara Bark. A brand new (2022) amaro from Sicily. It is made with the bark of the bitter orange tree, which gives it a literal barky flavor — a little medicin-y with overtones of eucalyptus. A pretty cool little bottling.

Amaro Jannamico. Rich and caramel-y, this amaro doesn’t aim for great nuance or complexity. But with strong notes of bubble gum, it’s a fun sip and won’t break the bank. Produced in eastern central Italy.

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