Vermouth for Summer Pleasure
Cocktail culture has brought a revival of vermouth. But Europeans have always drunk it on its own as an aperitif.
I’ve been a vermouth advocate for decades. I first became a convert during a summer in Florence for college studies. I remember it being miserably hot and sticky, as Florence often is. Not the right weather for a glass of Chianti. Instead, my Italian friends served me Cinzano on the rocks, with a judicious splash of soda water and a slice of orange. That refreshing drink beat the heat. (If only it had the power to drive away Florence’s relentless mosquitoes, I’d have been a happy camper.)
I discovered vermouth that summer and never looked back. I know what you’re thinking: Vermouth is cheap and not good on its own. You probably have a bottle gathering dust in the back of your liquor cabinet. Do yourself a favor and dump that down the sink. First thing to know about vermouth is that it’s a fortified wine. You wouldn’t do that to any other wine, would you? Buy a fresh bottle, keep it in the fridge, and start a new relationship with vermouth this summer.
Most Americans know vermouth as a cocktail ingredient for everything from martinis to Rob Roys to Negronis. But Europeans have enjoyed it as an aperitif — on the rocks with a twist of lemon, or with a splash of soda water — since it was invented over 200 years ago.
A brief history of vermouth
Wine has been combined with spices, roots, and herbs since ancient times. So that bittersweet flavor profile was well known in Piedmont by the time red vermouth was born in the capital of that region. Its birthdate is 1786 and its inventor was Antonio Benedetto Carpano, who had come to Turin to become an herbalist, a type of proto-pharmacist. As Becky Sue Epstein tells it in Strong, Sweet and Dry: A Guide to Vermouth, Port, Sherry, Madeira and Marsala, Carpano found work in a wine shop on the piazza facing the royal palace and there created a moscato-based wine fortified with alcohol and mixed with macerated local herbs plus exotic spices from afar, Turin being on an international trade route. It quickly became popular with the nobility, including the King of Piedmont. Carpano named the wine Wermut (or Vermut), after the German word for woodworm (also known as artemisia), a key bittering ingredient in the recipe. The wine shop became the piazza’s central attraction, and Carpano’s nephew, Giuseppe Bernardino Carpano, began commercializing it in 1820.
Others soon followed. Cinzano had already started experimenting with aromatized wines as early as the mid-1700s, Gancia was founded in 1850, Martini & Rossi in 1863, and Cocchi in 1891. In the early 1800s, vermouth spread to the southern alpine region of France, particularly in Chambéry, then part of the Kingdom of Sardinia under the House of Savoy, which also included Piedmont. It was in Chambéry that dry white vermouth first emerged, created by Joseph Noilly. Vermouth spread to Spain as well, where it firmly took root. Vermouth arrived in America in the late 1800s as an ingredient in cocktails, with the Manhattan first appearing in 1880. Europe had no cocktail culture at that time.
Vermouth has enjoyed a revival over the past 20 years, thanks to the flourishing cocktail culture. Artisanal vermouths have popped up around the world, and mixologists are experimenting with the different flavor profiles of vermouths, both commercial and handmade.
Vermouth di Torino
Part of that revival has been the reemergence of Vermouth di Torino. In 1840 Carlo Alberto, King of Piedmont, issued a decree granting Vermouth di Torino protected status. Cocchi CEO Roberto Bava spearheaded the effort to resurrect that designation after it fell into disuse following the absorption of Piedmont into the new nation of Italy in 1861. Bava felt it necessary to fill the regulatory gap, since some cheating was going on, with bottles being labeled as Vermouth di Torino that weren’t produced in Turin at all. He wanted to create a pyramid of quality too, with Vermouth di Torino at the top.
The Indicazione Geografica Protetta (IGP) for Vermouth di Torino became official in 2017. “For a long time, I’d been telling my colleagues, let’s do an IGP,” Bava tells me. “Let’s protect the vermouth of Torino. They didn’t listen until a few years ago. Eventually we are able to put together a IGP. But the point is, I was seen like a dreamer.” The overseeing body, the Institute of Vermouth of Turin, started with 16 vermouth producers. Today there’s 23.
Italian sweet red vermouths to try
I’m drinking with Bava at the Cocchi winery in the small town of Cocconato. He pours Cocchi Storico Vermouth di Torino ($24) into a glass with ice, adding an equal amount of soda water and a twist of lemon. This delicious, amber-colored vermouth is made according to founder Giulio Cocchi’s original recipe, which includes cinchona bark (the basis of quinine), rhubarb, artemisia, citrus peel, and a host of other botanicals. Relaunched in 2011 for the company’s 120th anniversary, it walks the line between sweet and bitter, with bright citrus notes and a heady array of aromas. (Alternately, instead of club soda, you can combine it with tonic water or any sparkling wine.) Next he adds a dose of Campari. That completely transforms the drink, taking the bitterness up another notch. It’s like a Negroni Lite, without the gin.
Back in the day, Giulio Cocchi had the bright idea of creating Cocchi bars around Piedmont and beyond. At its height, there were 12, a kind of Cocchi franchise for aperitifs. Now there’s just four left, but only one under the original Cocchi name, on Piazza Alfieri in Asti. It’s worth a visit, for old time’s sake.
Speaking of history, you can try Antonio Benedetto Carpano’s original recipe in Carpano Antica Formula 1786 ($35). This high-quality vermouth is a favorite among bartenders and mixologists because of its vanilla notes and complexity. It’s also slightly sweeter.
Another one to try is Cinzano 1757 Vermouth di Torino ($21), a small-batch vermouth based on an old recipe and created in honor of the brand’s formation in 1757. Intense and aromatic with a bitter finish, it’s suggestive of dried figs and raisins. Of course if you’d prefer to spend less, there’s always the vermouth that got me started: Cinzano Rosso ($8). This is a nice basic vermouth, perfect for summer aperitifs. And don’t forget to say ‘cin cin’ before quaffing, a toast popularized by Cinzano’s old advertising jingles.