This ruby-red Italian concoction is a classic. Picture it: 1919, a Count named Camillo Negroni, bored with the same old Americano—soda water thinning out the spirits. So, he leans over the bar and whispers to his buddy, Fosco Scarselli. "Give it some punch, will ya? Swap that soda for gin." And just like that, the drink bared its fangs, taken hostage by the boldness of the gin and the zest of orange peel instead of a half-hearted lemon twist.
Camillo was not an ordinary aristocrat. A wild soul who traded the confines of high society for the open roads of America, a cowboy riding the dusty trails, wolfing down life. He lived in London, too, a gin-soaked city, probably letting the spirit seep into his veins and steering him to birth the Negroni. A drink that says, "Here's to the broken, the restless, the ones who don't fit in."
