The Sensibility of the Italian Aperitivo

I was wistfully reminded of northern Italy’s aperitivo one night in DC’s Maxwell Park.  It was early evening on a Saturday and every bar seat was comfortably filled by people like me and J who were there for a pre-dinner drink.  But as I glanced around, I noticed amongst the wine and water glasses that there wasn’t a small plate or bowl of snacks in front of anyone. In contrast, my pre-dinner experience in northern Italy was “aperitivo,” a civilized few hours around sunset enjoyed with a selection of meats and cheeses, crusty bread, olives or other bites, served alongside your cocktail or wine.

Aperitivo purportedly got its start in the capital of Italy’s Piedmont’s region, Turin, where Antonio Benedetto Carpano concocted vermouth.  (And where J and I had two lovely pizzas sitting outdoors at a café, excited but fighting off the beginnings of jet lag – having just landed from the U.S. – and before catching our train to coastal Liguria.)

And there we were the next day, at an open-air seaside bar in Camogli, on the Ligurian coast, where aperitivo included an eclectic mix of potato chips, bite size sandwiches, pickled vegetables, and hummus.  All of this came unbidden with a glass of sparkling wine and the server insisting, yes, snacks come with your drinks, and yes, they are included in the very reasonable price.  How have I not known about this sensible tradition?  Google translates “aperitivo” to “appetizer.”  Which doesn’t do it justice.  Italy’s aperitivo was a revelation; a truly smart way to enjoy your early evening.