Since hunter-gatherer days, homo sapiens has evolved a palate for detecting bitterness, one of the only signs nature gives us to shy away from foods that can potentially kill us. Bitterness is also a mechanism for plant survival. After all, when a substance is too bitter, animals and insects tend not to eat them, either.

 

But down the centuries, we’ve grown more sophisticated, even developing a craving for certain bitter substances. Asian crave bitter gourd, or bitter melon as it is known in Chinese markets, and Italians have turned bitters into an art, with the distillation of many digestivos, or after dinner libations designed to ward off dyspepsia, indigestion, a number of liver and renal afflictions, and possibly even the taxman.

 

Our spirits guru, Francesco Lafranconi of Southern Wine and Spirits, has evolved himself since he first arrived in the desert a dozen years ago. I was the first American journo to interview him, at that time, the boy was fresh from a World Championship win in a bartender contest, and spoke minimal English.

 

Now, though, he’s somewhat of a celebrity, a real pheenom in the arcane world of cocktails. So when he decides a subject is worth a seminar, local soms, barflys and mixologists flock to the event. Two weeks ago, Lafranconi conducted a lore-filled seminar about bitters, tasting us through twelve of the more famous elixirs. It was quite eye opening, and I left with a newfound appreciation for the genre.

 

The event was held at D.O.C.G., a casual Italian restaurant owned by Scarpetta at the Cosmopolitan. Tables were crowded with food and tasting glasses. Various snacks, from chewy meat stuffed pizza bread, to cold cuts and fried calamari, were everywhere. Perhaps Francesco had the idea was to give everyone indigestion. If so, he succeeded.

 

Then, he did a snazzy Power Point lecture about how these digestives work, and proceeded to taste us through them, in an order that made a lot of sense, from a taste perspective. I’m not going to list all of the ones we tasted, but I did learn a lot about what I like and do not like. I’ll order them with impunity in the future, and with confidence.

 

My first ever bitter digestive was Cynar, made from artichoke leaves, and I’ve hated it since late adolescence. I still hate the stuff, despite the fact that I now have a grudging respect for the Campari family, and the thirteen botanicals that go into it.

 

All these libations, it seems, have secret recipes. Amaro, the genre, is the Italian world for bitter. No two taste even remotely similar.

 

The second one we tried, Rabarbaro Zucca, is made from an infusion of rhubarb, and takes its name from Zucca’s Bar in Milan. I liked this a lot, even though I harbor a strong dislike for strawberry rhubarb pie. If you like ethanol, you’ll like Amaro d’Abano. It’s a whopping 60 proof. I like the scent of larch, the caramel like finish, and the botanicals they use, chinchona bark, a source of quinine, and cardamom. De gustibus.

 

There were, in truth, many other interesting entries. The most famous of them, Fernet Branca, it was explained, is the Branca family’s interp of the genre, which is Fernet. Who knew? This one has been around for a long time. I remember trying it while still a college student. I’ll never forget the look on my girlfriend face when she tried it. “You’re trying to poison me”, she said. If only.

 

The distillate uses myrrh, (best given as a gift for qualifying Messiahs), saffron, aloe and more chinchona bark. This is also a powerful libation for getting potted. At 80 Proof, it’s the most alcoholic one of all.

 

I still despise Strega, Italian for witch, a liqueur with a syrupy sweet finish, the tastes of lavender, cinnamon and juniper, and the color of a warm pitcher of urine. And I discovered that I do like Averna, almonds, liquorice and orange flavored amaro that I used to shun.

 

And to my even greater surprise, in spite of all the fried calamari, cold cuts, pizza bread and cheeses, on the way home, I realized indigestion was not forthcoming. Try one yourself if you don’t believe.

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