But it is a wine-based cocktail. And, once upon a time, I co-wrote a book called SPRITZ, and you joined my wine club, so you were bound to have to drink a spritz or two eventually.
I've not met a person who doesn't like a spritz. But before I do my you're-going-to-love-it song and dance, let's establish the definition of a spritz. It's somewhat counter to the nature of the spritz to put it in a box, because the beauty of a spritz is its permuatability and its sprezzatura—that artful effortlessness coursing through Italian culture. Despite what you may have heard, a spritz isn't just an Aperol Spritz—that's just one variety that was born in the Veneto region of Italy and exploded with the benefit of brand dollars behind it. The spritz is a devil-may-care combination of wine, sparkling water, and a bitter element; it's generally low-ABV and sessionable, meant for the hours between work and play. An invitation into evening. A gateway to leisure and levity. The wine can be bubbly or not (depending on where you take it in Italy, it's sometimes still white wine), the water can be flavored or mineral-spring salty, and the bitter can be of the red bitter variety, or the gentian-flavored, or just a subtle herbal vermouth. And the best part: There is no recipe for a spritz. It's the kind of thing you can mix in any combination, suited to your taste, with anything you've got hanging on the bar.
I could tell you so many more things about the spritz—about how my co-author and bestie Talia Baiocchi and I drove across northern Italy in a tiny Fiat, packed to the brim with luggage and our significant others in search of the spritz's fuzzy history, about the cafés we discovered in Torino whose back rooms were full of homemade vermouth and political ghosts, about the dozens of sprites we guzzled and tested in the writing of our little ode to this funny little drink. But if you want to hear those things, you can pop by the shop, order a spritz and we'll get down to it.
This month, we brought the sultry spirit of the spritz to you with a few suggestions of how to mix the bottles you're picking up + writings from our team.
Poderi il Saliceto "Falistra" Emilia-Romagna, Italy NV
Podere il Saleceto has quickly become a favorite producer in the shop. A go-to for soft, layered and thoughtful bottles like the Albone Lambrusco or Bi Fri bubble. Located in the plain of Modena on the banks of the Secchia river in Emilia-Romagna, where Lambrusco thrives, Isabella, Gian Paolo, and Righi Marcello oversee every-hand picked cluster.
They use small cement and steel tanks for aging and pride themselves on working with indigenous grape varieties that make up the canon of Lambrusco wines. Their Falistra is made from Lambrusco di Sorbara grapes. Fermented in the bottle, it pours out as a frothy cherry-kissed pink. Wild, barely ripe strawberry, herbaceous acidity and a hint of mineral salt makes this wine feel like sitting on a fluffy pink cloud. The bubbles are subtle and persistent.
Alone, this wine is a gentle thirst quencher easily enjoyed by itself or with your favorite snack. From experience I will tell you it's a refreshing companion to close up a shop with after a busy night.
Listen, we all pull energy from different places. As a spritz coconspirator, it can become an ally to get you through any romantic binge watch, gossip session on the porch or late summer dinner that goes long into the night. Stretch out your favorite aperitivi or liqueur and keep the party going. Don’t be afraid to garnish with rosemary to accentuate its herbaceousness or use its foamy bubbles to soften some harsher edges.
For a spritz moment, we recommend splashing together an ounce of our favorite soda water Agua de Piedra (a very bubbly bubble), an ounce and a half of Mommenpop Crapefruit Citrus Aperitif (see below), and a wedge of grapefruit. —Beth Altenbernd
Mommenpop Grapefruit Citrus Aperitif
Grapefruit is for real adults. Or at least that’s what my young mind thought. Not only was it my mom’s go-to juice, but staring down a grapefruit half smothered in brown sugar with a spiky spoon as your only tool to excavate a perfectly not-bitter triangle of fruit seemed like a thing adults would do. A tedious task but worth it. Fast forward to grapefruit mimosas becoming my happy place brunch cocktail, mezcal/tequila, and grapefruit being my dive bar drink, and the citrus itself being an “I’m taking care of myself, see??” benchmark. Naturally grapefruit Mommenpop was an instant delight for me.
Mommenpop is the dream of Samatha Sheehan, known also as a the winemaker Poe Wines and Ultraviolet Wines. The story goes, in hot Napa California she found herself longing for something “citrusy, colorful and served with plenty of ice,” something easy peasy and not packed full of sugar. Entrepreneur that she is, she set out to make it. For this Ruby Grapefruit aperitif she uses a rosé wine of barbera as the base, fortifies it with a Napa-made grape spirit, and adds in whole California grown citrus and minimal botanicals like green cardamom, vanilla bean and orris root to balance and enhance the flavor. It’s pithy, citrusy, refreshingly bright and so versatile. Sitting by a pool? Grapefruit spritz. Watching the sunset? Mommenpop over ice with a splash of bitters. Melting on your porch? Paloma. I see you, you’re taking care of yourself. —Cassandra Vachon
Alma de Trabanco "Quinquina en Rama" Asturias, Spain
The Trabanco family have been producing the benchmark for Asturian cider in the small town of Gijón, Spain since 1925. Estate grown apples are fermented and aged in chestnut barrels before being bottled en Rama (without filtration).
A recent collaboration with Basque vermouth wizards, Distilleria Acha, blends this cider base with herbaceous and punchy vermouth blanco creating this refreshing and versatile Spanish aperitif.
Perfectly delightful as a low ABV (15%) sipper before a night out, enjoy over ice with a splash of soda and citrus peel. The rich vanilla and cardamom/cinnamon spicy accents also brighten up your run-of-the-mill gin and tonic.
In the shop, we mix together. the Alma de Trabanco with sparkling cider from Sonoma, plus a splash of soda water, and a bit of citrus. For the spritz club, we pumped it up with its Asturian sibling cider to layer the flavors, and stretch the boundaries of spritz territory toward Spain. —Drew Clowney
Isastegi "Sagardo Naturala" Basque Country, Spain
We’ve got a soft spot for cider in the shop. Nestled between domestic favorites from Bardos and Troddenvale, you’ll find Isastegi Sagarado Naturala, produced in the lush mountains of Basque Country. The Isastegi farm has been producing cider since at least the 17th century, when its scurvy-fighting powers were discovered by Basque sailors over long hauls at sea. Today, the estate organically farms dozens of native Basque apple varietals, all grown within a 15-kilometer radius of the cider house and fermented in giant oak barrels called kupelas. The result is a tart, hazy, high-acid cider that tastes just as good on your front porch as it would on the beach in San Sebastián.
The Isastegi, like many Basque ciders, is bottled still. In order to generate some spritz-worthy effervescence, lift the bottle up and pour it into your glass from an arm’s length away, mimicking the way cider flows from the oak barrels of traditional sagardotegi (cider houses). Pair with the aperitif of your choosing and garnish with a slice of apple skin for a crisp, seaworthy delight. —Haley Adams
C. Cassis Blackcurrant Liqueur + Bardos "Yeti" Gravenstein
For those of you who ventured for the Patron Saint Draw this month (a special cellar pick add-on to the club), we pulled a spritz recipe from our own menu at the shop. We have fallen for C. Cassis, a blackcurrant liqueur made with fruit from Upstate New York, mixed with honey, cardamom, bay leaf, citrus, and lemon verbena. It’s full, lush, and absolutely lovely with sparkling wine. In fact, they make a canned spritz that we sell in the shop by the boatload. We love to mix an ounce of C. Cassis with a glug of cider, and a splash of soda, hop in the pool, and pretend we’re all on a crystal-clear lake in the Northeast, eating plump blackcurrants like queens.