This memory is a bitter one.

	Campari got its start in Turin, Italy, crafted by Gaspare Campari in the 1840s. His son is credited with the aperitif's well-known advertising campaign, which features colorful, artful posters such as this. Click photo for larger image.

My first taste of Campari came at the age of 20 during a summerlong backpacking trip through Mediterranean Europe, on a clammy Friday evening, at a bar in Milan. A haze of cigarette smoke gave way to the sight of a glossy-haired man behind the bar, who promptly spotted that I was an Americano. And that's what he served to me, the classic Americano, a puckering mix of Campari, vermouth and soda.

Wait a minute. I've never been to Milan. I must be thinking of Harrisburg, at a bar along the Susquehanna River, over a plate of chicken wings. Not quite as dolce vita, is it? I like the first story better, but, frankly, that's the type of snobby love-letter writing that turns people away from Campari in the first place. That and the fact that most of us have never heard of the stuff.

Why not? Campari is used as an aperitif, and aperitif, or the aperitivo in Italy, comes from the Latin apertura and aperire, meaning "to open" or "opening" (think of the aperture in your camera). It's meant to be sipped before dinner, as a way of opening up the appetite, but Americans don't seem to need much help in that regard, as you may have noticed if you've recently visited a Golden Corral steak buffet.

But we're here to educate, not just make fat jokes, and now that spring is in full swing, maybe it's time we had a chat about Campari ($24.99, PLCB # 005484). It's a throwback by today's standard, and that standard, if we may summarize it in a word, is "sweet." The kids these days do so love their pineapple martinis, their Mike's Hard Lemonade, anything that tastes more or less like a melted cherry popsicle.

Campari is no melted popsicle. Grapefruits and orange rinds come to mind. In fact, rinds are an elemental ingredient in Campari, rumor has it, though as is the case with so many classic blended spirits, the actual recipe of this particular aperitif is a well-kept secret.

We gather, from scouring the Internet, that there are orange peels in here, plus fruits, herbs, maybe rhubarb and quinine bark. Oh, and bugs. The vivid red, which is the drink's most seductive aspect, comes from the dye known as carmine cochineal, which is extracted from the dried remains of the cochineal, a South and Central American cactus-eating beetle.

A Campari Negroni cocktail. Click photo for larger image.

"Waiter, there's a bug in my Americano ..."

Campari might have been destined for the junkyard of spirits history (a place we'd love to visit, by the way) had its makers not been pioneers in promotion. They allowed bar owners to sell Campari products so long as they advertised the product line with signs behind the bar. Those first signs evolved into a more sophisticated, worldwide advertising campaign, featuring the poster-sized ads that are so iconic now, with the vintage yellow Campari font, backed by a painting of a circus clown twirling in a giant orange peel or whatever. That lively, caricature-style ad, which made its debut eight decades ago, is still recognizable today.

Campari got its start in Turin, Italy, crafted by Gaspare Campari. He was selling his own concoction of aperitif by the 1840s, and 20 years later, by 1862, he had his own bar, Cafe Campari in Milan, where he apparently perfected the recipe that is still in use. His son later took over the family business, and was the driving force behind the brand's early-20th-century marketing success. Campari still is distributed by Italy's Campari Group (Gruppo Campari), which also promotes its line of SKYY vodka.

Cynthia Closkey, a Pittsburgh Web designer, can appreciate the long-running poster campaign, as well as the bitters. Consider her among the small but devoted group that believes Campari is sadly underappreciated. "I can count three people besides me who like Campari," she said. Which is a shame. "It's such a pretty drink. It makes everything a little more elegant." And, when mixed with soda, "it takes you longer to get drunk, which keeps you looking elegant longer, too."

Maybe elegant, retro drinks are making a comeback. Booze, like fashion, can be a cyclical business.

Horacio Ruiz, general manager at UUBU6 in the South Side Slopes, does his part when he's working the bar. He's an experienced restaurant man, having planned the classy Ibiza on East Carson Street before coming on board at UUBU6, and Campari is part of his repertoire.

"If I know they're going to have a dinner, I offer Campari," or maybe another aperitif. "We do it like the European style," pushing it with a splash of soda. In Italy, they bottle it that way, selling pre-mixed Campari and soda that results in a 20-proof mixture. By itself, Campari is 41 proof, or 20.5 percent alcohol.

So have a sip. That first jolt of bitter electricity might turn your taste buds, but stick with it. Experiment. Mix it with soda water, or orange juice, or even a ginger ale.

Or try one of these stylish, warm-weather cocktails, and think springy thoughts.

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NEGRONI

PG TESTED

• 2 ounces Campari
  
• 2 ounces gin
  
• 2 ounces sweet vermouth

Same as the Americano predecessor, but with gin instead of soda water. Mix over ice, in an old-fashioned glass. Add a splash of orange juice, if desired.

JASMINE

• 1/2 ounce gin
  
• 1/4 ounce Cointreau
  
• 1/2 ounce Campari
  
• 1/2 ounce lemon juice

Mix in a shaker with ice, strain into a glass and garnish with a lemon twist.

AMERICANO

• 1 ounce Campari
  
• 1 ounce sweet vermouth
  
• Soda water

Pour Campari and sweet vermouth into highball glass filled with ice and stir. Top with soda water and garnish with an orange wedge or lemon twist.