For the uninitiated, an aperitif is most likely seen as a quaintly shaped little
glass filled with colorful, aromatic and mysterious tonics. But really, "aperitif"
most simply means a drink before dinner, whether it's a can of Pabst at the
Lutz or a Punt e Mes (sweet vermouth flavored with bitter herbs) at Genoa. Certain
drinks, though, are especially suited to stimulate the palate, preface an extended
multicourse meal or occupy you while waiting for a table. The aperitif is a
European tradition, somewhat supplanted in the United States by cocktail-hour
standards such as whiskey and vodka. I say that we can always use a little more
European influence in our everyday American lives.
Light, dry, lower-alcohol drinks, fortified wines like sherry, and liqueurs
such as Campari make the best openers to a leisurely meal. Wine-based drinks
like sherry, vermouth, Lillet and Dubonnet are popular aperitifs. Americans
took vermouth and gradually added more and more gin to it until it became the
modern dry martini, a fine drink but not one calculated to leave you in a state
of optimum sensual awareness. The notion behind an aperitif is to savor not
just the flavor of a meal but its appearance and its effect on the body. One
could do worse than to choose an aperitif by color alone--some of the best are
also the most attractive--or by the sound of its name, with resonant words like
Dubonnet, creme de cassis, or the amontillado immortalized by Edgar Allan Poe.
Liqueurs are spirit-based concoctions flavored with additives spanning the
gamut of edibles, from herbs to eggs, cherries to chocolate. Many of these recipes
are closely guarded secrets. An "Elixir of Long Life" prescription circa 1605
yields brilliant green Chartreuse; the recipe combines 130 herbs and is protected
by monks who have taken a vow of silence. Another liqueur famous for its green
color is the now-illegal absinthe. Today, Pernod's wormwood-free version may
not be as perfect a prelude to psychotic rampages, but it is a nice introduction
to dinner at the Brasserie.
In Italy I was intrigued by the distinctive Cynar bottle. Could the artichoke
on the label really indicate something as strange as artichoke liqueur? It does,
and it's one of the hundred most popular liquors in the world. The Greeks drink
licoricelike ouzo, which changes from clear to opaque when water is added, while
the Swedes say the caraway-tinted aquavit makes space for eating. There are
more than a dozen varieties of this astringent Scandinavian beverage, flavored
with odd accents such as dill and myrtle.
With everything from honey to violets to rhubarb going into them, some liqueurs
may be more worthy of exploration than others. Indeed, a few may be so unappetizing
(peanuts? bananas?) that they enhance the flavor of your dinner by pure contrast.
