amaro
I have had a blank document open for well over a month simply headed ‘Amaro’. Each week I am kindly reminded by my fellow to write about my oh so loved bitter liqueur. Alas, each time I sat down the only typing I did was change the first letters of my recipe from upper to lower case. There has been such a fog abouts how to write on these lovely unruly beverages. My limited yet enticing experience with the world of bitter liqueurs left me awe struck to their nature and history. Determined today I set out by crawling into my parent loft to unveil their pristine set of World Encyclopedia's. Pulling out book “A” I sought out: Amaro, Amari, Aperitif, aperitivo...not even a letter given to these elixirs. Next, Joy of Cooking, both a recent addition as well as a weathered 80’s edition spoke not an ounce on the world of bitters. Though I am beginning to think this is particularly what sparks my wanderlust toward amaro.
My first memory of these herbal concoctions was in Salzburg, Austria. My grandfather left a small trinket cart sporting a child’s, I just a puppy, grin holding his prized tiny green glass bottle of Jägermeister. He spoke of his childhood memories regarding this herbal ‘medicine’. Of course leaning in closer to note its rather high alcohol content with a smirk. Later that year I stumbled across a recipe for Vanilla Extract. Its simplicity caught me off guard sparking my curiosity to experiment with herbal liqueurs. A bartender friend and I concocted five varying batches of amaro. A few received smashing reviews from his customers when added their Manhattans/Torontos.
Unpredictability is precisely what defines amaro; of course besides the word meaning bitter in Italian. It is precisely there that these bitter drinks were originated, nurtured, and still thrive today with the strong notion only Italians can produce said spirits. Like many other fermented and/or aged items amaro can be traced back to the dark corners of Roman monasteries. Fascinated by botanical and herbal properties these holy men preserved their herbal blends in strong alcohol. Prescribed to aid in digestion along with many other uses depending on the local elements used. Today many of these herbal bitters are still terroir driven, using local flowers, bitter roots, and herbs. With most amari still controlled within a family dynasty mindset, recipes are scarcely open to the public. An ingredient list on the glass encased elixir is a blue moon occurrence. Using the world wide web, the spiller of many secret, I was determined to crack the code of some of these classic amari. Alas…no spice. For instance, the Underberg’s website has an entire page dedicated to NOT sharing even one of their forty-three secret aromatic herbs; even mentioning that only the fourth and fifth generation Underberg’s are in the know. To add to its elusiveness no one can fully agree when or how amari should be enjoyed: after a meal {digestive}, before {aperitif}, away from food, with food, to cure an ailment, neat, on the rocks, with soda water, oh my the possibilities are endless. Wait okay, what then is this drink all about? After some research I am beginning to think it is a genre of drinks cultivated around family and hospitality, a true ‘welcome home’ gesture. In Brad Parsons’ book ‘Amaro’, he recalls his first dinner upon moving to his new home in Brooklyn. After dessert the bartender gave him a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ nod and slid him an glass of Averna on the house. Later in Parsons’ book he talks about Barnacle, a Seattle aperitivo bar run by David Little attached to Renee Erickson’s Walrus and the Carpenter. Little, along with his staff, serve these libations with “humility and empathy” making them accessible and enjoyable to their patrons. I think this is amaro. A gesture drink. There are no rights and wrongs. Besides bitters, alcohol, and sugar-water we as consumers are at the mercies of: the craftsmen who take great pride in these heritage drinks, the bartender’s experienced palate and willingness to shed light on these mysteries, and our own willingness to be invited into this old-world experience.
For me personally, rarely do I enjoy eating and/or drinking alone. Yes they are a necessity but they are also one of the most beautiful simple pleasures in life. What is more important than eating and drinking with the ones we hold most dear or even with strangers? Through necessity we find inspiration. This is why I write. This is why I am a passionate food enthusiast. This is why I hope to always work in food service. For what is life if it is not shared? Therefore share it over a bowl of pasta, wedge of cheese, glass of amaro, or whatever your comrade fancies.
A few of my favorite amari…
Nonino Quintessentia, Fernet Vallet, Cynar, and Cappelletti Sfumato Rabarbaro
Thought I would include my most recent amaro recipe but first a word on recipes. Stripped down all one needs is:
151 or 190 proof alcohol {no lower than 100 proof}
bittering agent
simple syrup
spices/herbs/zest/bark/flower of your choosing
good ole time
moore amaro
1 750 ml bottle of 151 proof Everclear
1 T Gentian
2 stars Star Anise
1 tsp Juniper
10 pods Cardamon
2 tsp Sage
3/4 tsp Cloves
1 cup simple syrup
tools
two 750 ml glass bottles
mortar and pestle
fine mesh strainer
*cheesecloth {optional}
extra glass bottle to aid in decanting
- macerate all the dried herbs and spices
- place into 750 ml glass bottle
- pour in alcohol
- seal and shake
- let rest for two-three weeks
- strain into two glass bottle*
- add simple syrup to each and shake
- let rest for two weeks
- taste, and adjust by add more simple syrup or water
- decant into desired bottle{s}*
- enjoy neat or on the rocks
*after the initial fine mesh strainer use a damp cheesecloth and funnel to strain the remaining herbs and later the remaining residue. The more you strain your liqueur the less residue thus clearer your amaro will end up being. Of course like this whole process this second stage of straining is optional.