My husband and I walked past the Pikes Street Market, along the Seattle harbor, enjoying the summer evening after a pleasant but early dinner. When my husband suggested a nightcap, I said, “Sure.”
I asked the bartender, “What’s the name of that aperitif made from artichokes?”
The bartender must have sensed that I really didn’t want anything to drink. He was busy, in no mood to play guessing games, and clearly pleased with my husband, who knew what he wanted. When he came back with my husband’s draft beer in one hand and a liquor bottle in the other, he said, “Is this what you’re talking about?”
I liked the looks of the label, cream-colored and dense with black print. I studied the bottle. “Fernet… I think that’s it.” I wasn’t at all sure, but the bartender was giving me a “drink it or wear it look,” so I quickly said, “Yes. That’s the one.”
“Ugh!” he said. “You want that on the rocks?”
Of course,” I replied, as if everyone knows that’s how one drinks Fernet.
My drink, dark as molasses, tasted the way horse liniment smells and a little minty. Someone on Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fernet describes the taste of Fernet as, “black licorice and Listerine.”
When my husband signaled to the bartender that he was ready to pay the tab, the guy said, “I’m not charging her for that,” glancing at my empty glass. He didn’t say “…that vile concoction,” but I could read his look.
I laughed, leaned toward him, looked him in the eye and said, “I’m going to tell you a secret. I really liked it.”
I did. I like Fernet. Of course, I had confused Fernet with Cynar, made of artichokes and with a picture of an artichoke on the label. Both are referred to as a“digestif” not an “apartif.” Fernet is made with everything but artichokes and the kitchen sink.
Here’s what Wikipedia has to say:
Fernet is made from a number of herbs and spices which vary according to the brand, but usually include myrrh, rhubarb, chamomile, cardamom, aloe, and especially saffron,[1] with a base of grape distilled spirits, and coloured with caramel colouring. Ingredients rumored to be in fernet include codeine, mushrooms, fermented beets, coca leaf, gentian, rhubarb, wormwood, zedoary, cinchona, bay leaves, absinthe, orange peel, calumba, echinacea, quinine, ginseng, St. John's wort, sage, and peppermint oil.[1]
Who likes Fernet, besides me? Well, pretty much everyone in Argentina, where they mix it with Coca Cola. It’s popular in San Francisco and is considered to have medicinal value, “treating menstrual and gastrointestinal discomfort, hangovers, baby colic, and (formerly) cholera.”
Who do I hope likes Fernet? I would be pleased if Sting, Helen Mirren, and Her Royal Majesty, Queen Elizabeth shared my newly-discovered taste, but I’m skeptical. I brought up the subject last night at a dinner party and one of the guests said, “Oh, _____________ loves Fernet. Or used to love Fernet.”
I won’t name names, but the person mentioned is a recovering alcoholic and, I have to say, a disagreeable person.
Do you like Fernet?
