The Negroni That Changed My Life
If you had told me three years ago that a cocktail would have such an impact on me, I probably wouldn’t have believed you. Until I was 22, I didn’t drink. Not because I was scared to, but because I simply wasn’t interested. Even taking a shot here and there with friends didn’t intrigue me enough to want to push my limits. But here I am, telling you the story of how a drink changed my life.
Back in Paris, surrounded by the streets of the Marais, is a bar called Bar Nouveau. This bar is serenity in its purest form. Small, with turquoise walls, mirrored ceilings, and a small Mediterranean-style bar, seating only fifteen at a time. It was heaven. Guitars playing in the background, a bartender who looked like he came from the fields of Greece, shaking cocktails in the comfort of the guests’ patience.
Having been there three times in the span of the week, I was quite familiar with their impressive signature cocktail list. But the one cocktail I love, absolutely adore, is a Negroni. A Negroni to me screams decadence, not only in presentation, but in flavour. The fruity aromas of orange from the Campari, the gentle sweetness of vermouth to coat the mouth, the bitter aftertaste, with the floral notes of gin drifting in between. Knowing they did some classics, I had to ask. After a nod from the bartender and five minutes later, I was presented with a deceivingly simple-looking Negroni. The colours weren’t popping with the deep red I was used to, the large slice of orange had been replaced with only the tip of the fruit, and to keep it cool, two perfectly formed ice cubes. Did I mention it was deceiving?
My first sip was almost orgasmic, as if I had never had a real Negroni before. Suddenly, every Negroni I had in the past fell short in comparison to the one in front of me at that moment. The aromas of orange had an intensity I hadn’t tasted before, as if I picked the sweetest orange straight from the vine and bit into its flesh. The vermouth only enriched it by adding a sweetness that only a proper Vermouth could do. And finally, the gin, which, if I guessed it correctly, was a Japanese one, just lifted everything up with a gentle and clean nudge.
You might think from reading this that I’m exaggerating this experience, but I dare you to try it for yourself and see how it makes you feel.
After finishing my drink, I knew that I wanted to learn this, this craft, this skill. I wanted to give people the experience that I just had, allow them to taste the true mastery of cocktails.
