Fernet-Branca

Rating: 15/23 Nose: Mint, closer to pure menthol, blends with rich, mellow herbal notes and a balanced sweetness with a faint caramel hint, similar to cola but without Jägermeister's metallic edge. Palate: Less minty initially than expected, with bitter, herbal richness preceding a light cola layer. Mint and spice emerge later. As it develops, I taste bittersweet chocolate and medium-roast coffee. At times, hints of a rich, bitter (but not tart), juicy dark fruitiness appear. The profile is more balanced than I recalled. Spices, mostly cinnamon, gradually become noticeable. The complexity is decent, but the individual flavors, apart from the mint and perhaps one bitter element, don't stand out significantly. Finish: The mint persists for a long time, overlaying a bitterness that increasingly resembles dark roast coffee with chocolate. It's a rather unexciting finish, but it's reasonably pleasant. I'm surprised by how much more I like this now compared to before. It's not outstanding, but aside from possibly being too minty, the profile is good. The flavors seem a bit too subtle, leading to muddling, but I can enjoy contemplating it. I haven't tried it in a cocktail (only had a sample) and I worry it might not be effective as a mixer because, besides its mintiness (which could be problematic in many drinks), it's more subtle and subdued than, say, Campari. Some bitters might be better in many cocktails. Considering everything, I'd rate it between 14 and 17 for sipping alone. I'm leaning towards 15 now, but a 16 is certainly possible in the future.

Appearance: Clear, dark brown. Reminds me of weak coffee. Held to light, it's more of a dark sienna. Aroma: Menthol, peppermint, incense (frankincense, myrrh), pyrethrum daisies, licorice root. Taste and Feel: It starts sweet on the tongue with a deep, earthy herbal quality. However, an intense menthol mint flavor quickly emerges which, for newcomers, might seem surprisingly like mint toothpaste. This is followed by a bitter edge hinting at gentian, quinine, and bitter aloes. The taste is very long and consistent, eventually developing an earthy sweetness akin to bittersweet sarsaparilla. The texture is rich but not syrupy. Fernet is an acquired taste, truly. Initially, you'll liken it to cough drops, toothpaste, or mouthwash – anything strongly minty and herbal. It's similar to spearmint Fisherman's Friend lozenges with added bitterness. That likely sounds awful, and if you taste this and are horrified, don't fret; you're in good company. Most people dislike it at first. However, it genuinely is an acquired taste. The traditional way to drink Fernet-Branca is straight as a digestif. It can also add a bitter element to cocktails, but use sparingly as it dominates other ingredients unlike more versatile amari. In Argentina, Fernet & Coke is popular and enjoyable. Adding orange bitters and an orange slice makes it somewhat like chinotto. Personally, I prefer it in very small amounts added to heavily sweetened Greek coffee. “Above Average”: 80/100 (3 stars)

Bottle: I suspect this hasn't changed much since its 1845 origin. It strongly evokes "classic Italian bitters." I can't read any of it, but it looks appealing. In Glass: Dark brown with a faint green halo when swirled. Nose: Bitter mint. This might sound unpleasant, but bear with me. It has a robust 'earthy mint' character. It's not sickly sweet like peppermint schnapps, nor overly medicinal like Gammel Dansk. It strikes a good equilibrium. Taste: It's a bitter, after all. You're likely not drinking this neat. If you did, it would taste like a high-quality artisanal toothpaste with a bitter punch. If the Romans made toothpaste, this would be it. Fernet-Branca truly shines when used in measured amounts in various cocktails, in my view. While often served as a 'bartender's handshake,' it requires a developed palate to appreciate on its own. For beginners, I recommend trying it with Coke & Fernet or a Toronto to understand its best applications.

This has the taste of a cough drop. The menthol is overwhelmingly prominent. The aftertaste is disgustingly bitter. There's a touch of sweetness and some unidentifiable herbal character present, but it's primarily menthol. The herbal notes are just sufficient to make it resemble cough drops instead of breath mints, which is largely a letdown. The herbs give it a flavor akin to Jägermeister mixed with crème de menthe, but not in a pleasant way. At least there are no peculiar alcohol flavors detracting from it. A hint of licorice, a touch of salt, and a whisper of wood are present within the herbal elements. The complexity eventually becomes apparent, and the finish avoids truly bad flavors, yet it still tastes like cough drops. There's some interesting smokiness and a bit of sweetness, but the flavor is predominantly menthol, making this quite challenging to enjoy.

Aroma: menthol, licorice, black cherry, chamomile, cardamom, floral and herbal spice I lack the words for, minimal ethanol sting. Flavor: menthol, spearmint, cardamom, chocolate, chamomile, licorice, more of those hard-to-define herbal and floral notes, mild alcohol bite, finishing long, minty, and naturally sweet. This is quite intriguing. The mouthwash sensation is certainly noticeable. I'm uncertain if I would revisit it, but the experience of sipping it was enjoyable.

Nose: Spearmint is prominent, with a touch of ethanol and dark chocolate. Taste: A hint of vanilla and dark chocolate gives way to intense spearmint and an herbal bitterness reminiscent of bitter orange and grass. Aerating reveals cinnamon and cloves, and turns the dark chocolate into milk chocolate. It's wonderfully complex and works very well in several key cocktails, including with whiskey. Wonderfully complex and intriguing. I haven't encountered anything quite like it.