After a two-year stint working at Consignment Lounge in Chicago, which boasts a various menu of amari, I’ve grow to be an enormous fan of all types of bitter bottles. On the vintage-shop-meets-grandma’s-basement-meets-neighborhood-cocktail-bar, I used to be launched to (and got here to like) lesser-known bottles like Heirloom’s Pineapple Amaro or Matchbook Distilling’s Day Journey Strawberry Amaro, which we served neat and in a variety of cocktails.

However one bitter liqueur has evaded my affection: Campari. For me, it simply doesn’t have the precise steadiness of herbaceousness and sweetness; I’m not all the time within the temper for its particular model of bitterness. I do know this may occasionally shock—even offend—a few of my cocktail bartender friends, nevertheless it’s the reality. I find it irresistible in a Jungle Chook, however I’ll take a White Negroni over a basic one any day. And also you definitely received’t discover me consuming it by itself or experimenting with it in a brand new cocktail.

In the future, nonetheless, after closing out an extended prep shift, I took a seat on the bar. Kissed by a heat June breeze that wafted by way of the home windows, I couldn’t assist however crave one thing mild, refreshing, fizzy and just a bit bitter. We all the time had a batched Ferrari shot for our home beer-and-shot combo—in reality, it was the serve that acquired me accustomed to amari within the first place—and one thing about that beloved mix of Fernet-Branca and Campari tempers every ingredient’s depth. I figured: Why not put the Ferrari in an Americano?

The end result was a deliciously bittersweet Americano riff that I’ve been calling an Enzo, after the founding father of Ferrari. The 2 liqueurs marry with the orange peel and candy vermouth’s (particularly Carpano Antica’s) richer, sweeter notes—like a tangy, bitter, grown-up bubblegum—in one of the simplest ways. Since then, it’s grow to be my go-to for a breezy, open-window kinda day.