There's something intriguing when someone orders a campari soda. Immediately my attention focuses on what makes up this particular person.
It is an aperitif drink that does not ensure "x-dollars" with each gulp. It is a drink that affirms culture and refinement. Legal drinking age youngsters whose sophistication has yet to blossom would order typically Red Bull & Vodka; with heady highs in less than a minute. Campari's bitter taste ensures lingering herbs with medicinal qualities that startles the appetite.
Finding Campari in different parts of the world depends on the alcohol content. In the American market, the alcohol content is 24% 48 proof where as the sophisticated hard core European market the alcohol content is 28.5% 58 proof. No wonder my trip to Milan, sitting quietly by a cafe overlooking The Duomo was extremely heady, with a wide grin of approval from the head waiter who normally sports a curt disdain for unworldly tourists.
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| Pedro with my neat Campari |
Yes heady, because the waiter delivered the Campari in a sherry schooner filled to the brim - no soda in sight. So I guess, he was judging me and my preference. I always prefer my drinks neat, my men very alpha-male, my steak pink and my towels fluffy and white. If those four things are present and perfect - there is nothing more in life - simply put; my needs are met.
PS: No - I do not work for the company, nor do I work for their advertising/PR campaign - I'm simply a Campari girl. Campari lovers, do comment.
