One entry per bottle: where it's made, what's inside it, how the brand came to be, how it actually tastes, and where to find it. We're building this out brand by brand.

The spa-town digestivo of Padua — cinnamon, cardamom and old-fashioned calm.
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Blood oranges grown on the slopes of Etna, bottled by two Sicilians who thought no one had done it right.
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The orange half of Italian aperitivo hour — low-proof, gently bitter, impossible to avoid.
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Caramel, citrus peel and monastery herbs from Caltanissetta — the warm, rounded classic of Sicilian amaro.
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Fernet-Branca with a blast of Piedmont peppermint — the mint one, and the reason the Hard Start exists.
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The pine forest in a glass — Italy's definitive alpine amaro.
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The scarlet aperitivo that built the Negroni — sharp orange-rind bitterness, and Italy's most recognizable red.
Read the entry →Wine-based, cochineal-red and gentian-dry — the bartender's Campari alternative.
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Cardoon and blessed thistle in a Moscato base — the gentlest amaro on the shelf.
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A hundred herbs from the Maiella, bottled at up to 70% ABV — the fiercest green liqueur in Italy.
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Quinine bark turned into a liqueur — the bitter tonic that predates the cocktail.
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Lazio's orange-forward amaro — and the Nonino substitute that costs half as much in a Paper Plane.
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The artichoke amaro — thirteen herbs and plants, a savory-bitter backbone, and the most versatile bottle on any cocktail shelf.
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Unfiltered, cloudy and sweetened with raw honey — the most rustic bottle Varnelli makes.
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Milan's uncompromising digestivo — 27 herbs, saffron, menthol and a bitterness that never apologizes.
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A new-wave Roman amaro built to be bitter first and sweet second.
Read the entry →The tiny alpine wormwood picked above 2,000 metres — Braulio's high-altitude cousin.
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A Piedmontese cult bottle of orange and vanilla, named for an American president.
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From the amaretti house of Saronno — almond, hay and warm spice.
Read the entry →Sorrento lemon peel, spirit and sugar — served ice-cold, the sweet bookend to every southern Italian dinner.
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Basilicata's family secret — more than thirty herbs, and the amaro every Italian household seems to own.
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Lucano's 1894 recipe, aged and turned up — deeper, drier and built for sipping.
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Saffron and violet from the Marche — the amaro bartenders reach for when they want perfume.
Read the entry →Wild myrtle berries steeped into a deep purple Sardinian liqueur — resinous, fruity and served arctic cold.
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The gateway amaro — forty botanicals, orange blossom and vanilla, and the most approachable bitter in Italy.
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Grappa-based, mint-and-gentian bitterness from Bassano del Grappa — the amaro that turns cloudy when you add water.
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The silkiest amaro on the shelf — a grappa base rested in barriques, and the reason the Paper Plane exists.
Read the entry →Wild blueberry and mountain pine in a wine base — the Dolomites in a glass.
Read the entry →A Dutch name, an Italian bottle, and one of the most bracing bitters made anywhere.
Read the entry →One point of sweetness and half a point of bitter — the Turin stock exchange in a bottle.
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Milan's original café amaro — 33 botanicals, cola-and-orange warmth, and the bottle that invented Italian aperitivo advertising.
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The Colosseum on the label, a dark herbal-citrus classic — Rome's answer to the after-dinner amaro at a friendly price.
Read the entry →From the rock spires of the Dolomiti Lucane — Basilicata's modern amaro.
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Genoa's fierce 1892 Ligurian classic — Alpine botanicals, 40% ABV, and a bitterness that rivals Fernet.
Read the entry →Star anise and elderflower, three coffee beans, and the end of every Roman dinner.
Read the entry →The Venetian red bitter that actually belongs in a Venetian spritz.
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Smoked rhubarb root from the Dolomites — the campfire bottle on the amaro shelf.
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Bitter honey and mountain gentian from the Sibillini — the cult bottle serious drinkers hunt down.
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A grappa distillery's amaro — seventeen botanicals over a Piedmont spirit base, with honey to round it.
Read the entry →The Witch of Benevento — seventy herbs, saffron yellow, unmistakable.
Read the entry →Friuli's grappa-based amaro — darker and more bitter than its famous neighbour.
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Twenty-nine Calabrian herbs, drunk straight from the freezer — the most generous, most shareable amaro in Italy.
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Not an amaro, but the wormwood-spiked wine that made Italian aperitivo possible — and the backbone of the Negroni.
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The Milanese rhubarb aperitivo that once had its own bar in the shadow of the Duomo.
Read the entry →More entries coming
Montenegro, Fernet-Branca, Nonino, Averna, Cynar, Meletti and the rest of the shelf are in the works.