This one’s for Tim, who asked for “Something bitter and stirred” last night, then he came over and asked what I gave him because he loved it so much but to be a bit of a shit and create some suspense, I didn’t tell him. So here you go, young man. Cynar is the star here and not just one, but two. It used to be on the menu years ago when we were in a big stirred phase when we were all discovering the beauty of putting pretty much any kind of amaro in a rye cocktail. Yeah, there’s a formula of sorts–it’s called buy a new amaro and stir it up with your favorite whiskey–and when you do it and throw in a pinch of panache people think you’re goddam David Copperfield.

Okie Dokie Artichokie

1 oz. Bonded Rye

1 oz. Cynar

1 oz. Cynar 70

2 Dashes Orange Bitters

Stir, strain into awaiting small coupe. Garnish with an expressed orange peel.

Where does the word Cynar come from and why isn’t there a vowel on the end? Well, the artichoke’s latin term/name/word/whatever (genus) is cynara. Why didn’t the Italians just name it that? No idea, they just did. Accept it and move on. Does there have to be a story about everything?

Ok, ok, listen, some Italian artichoke farmer dude was in his basement back in the day, trying to get some time away from his wife and kids, getting high on the fumes of his bootleg neutral spirit, and decided to up his game a bit and make the shit more palatable. He had some artichoke leaves hanging around because artichokes are such a massive waste of time. That’s it. That’s the story. He added sugar and was so hammered he forgot the vowel on the end.

Cynar is one of those mass produced amari with all sorts of weird shit in it. Thirteen herbs and spices to be exact with the actual ingredients a mystery, like any other aperitif or amaro, and kept under strict lock and key by a young boy who is given a quart ration per day and then heavily flogged nightly to teach him both fear and respect.

At any rate, you can put Cynar in nearly anything to either make something taste better or worse. You’ll have to be the judge. I hear the Brazilians throw it into cachaça. It makes for a great julep as well as a stellar Manhattan variation courtesy of Toby Maloney and the Violet Hour in Chicago.

Bitter Giuseppe

2 oz. Cynar

1 oz. Carpano Antica

.25 oz. Lemon Juice

6 Dashes Orange Bitters

Stir and strain over a BFR, top with a pinch of salt to finish.

There’s all kinds of Cynar swag out there. More than you’re even aware of. Aside from the obligatory hats, shoes, pins, and old school posters there’s biking uniforms, ashtrays, duffle bags, shit, even sneakers. There was also once a rug. Yeah, I really want the rug.

Oh, and another Rustic favorite, the Gynar. You can do this one any way you want but it’s usually equal parts gin and Cynar 70 then down the hatch. Ice and a peel make it fancy.

Cynar the world, baby.