Fernet-Branca fans bestow bitter liqueur cult status

Anyone wanting to fully appreciate the phrase "an acquired taste" should try a shot of Fernet-Branca. A dark, thick, intensely bitter Italian digestif liqueur made to the same top secret formula since 1845, it's embraced with an almost cult-like passion in some places, including San Francisco and Buenos Aires. Fernet-Branca is the sort of drink that once would have been said to put hairs on your chest. Nate Cavalieri, writing in the SF Weekly, describes his first encounter with the drink as "getting punched squarely in the nose while sucking on a mentholated cough drop".

So with words like "aggressive", "medicinal" and "mouthwash" also cropping up with alarming frequency whenever Fernet-Branca is in the room, how to explain the million cases sold every year in Argentina (where they often mix it with ice and cola) and the fervour it creates in San Francisco (where they consume 25 per cent of the total US haul and chase shots of the stuff with ginger ale)? And this is not to forget homebase Italy where in many households a bottle of Fernet-Branca is considered an essential way to end a meal. Surely if it was all about being punched in the face, the novelty would have worn thin by now.

Part of the attraction of Fernet-Branca are its herbal medicinal properties. As part of the amaro family of liqueurs that are all, to a greater or lesser extent, bitter and purported to aid digestion (Campari and Aperol are at the kinder, gentler end of the spectrum), Fernet-Branca has sold itself as some kind of tonic since Bernardino Branca first concocted the recipe in Milan in 1845.

Alongside the usual digestion claims, the liqueur has been touted as useful for everything from menstrual cramps to arresting the effects of old age. Add that the formula is a closely guarded secret and includes at least 40 barks, roots, fungi, herbs and spices, it's hard not to get sucked into the idea that such a witch-like potion must be doing some good somehow.

The secretive allure is not harmed any by the fact that Bernardino Branca's great-great-grandson Niccolo, a count, personally measures out the aromatics that go into the liqueur and is the sole custodian of the formula. Included in the mix are myrrh, gentian root, cinchona bark, rhubarb, chamomile, aloe and, perhaps the most important part of the equation, saffron. Such is the amount of saffron in Fernet-Branca that the Branca family business, Fratelli Branca, is said to consume around 75 per cent of the world's saffron supply every year.

All these flavours are infused with a grape-distilled spirit and then popped into oak barrels and left to ferment for 12 months.

Fernet-Branca is often drunk straight but for those a little fearful of the initial onslaught (and it is an onslaught) can dilute it with ice and/or soda water. Then there are the cola and ginger ale options.

Not surprisingly, bartenders are a little wary of the stuff, given the ease with which it will aggressively dominate every other ingredient in the glass given the chance. Used carefully, it can add a brilliant depth to a drink and, obviously a bracing, savoury bitterness.

The best-known Fernet-Branca cocktail, the Hanky Panky, has equal parts gin and sweet vermouth with a couple of dashes of Fernet-Branca. Stirred over ice and then strained into a cocktail glass and garnished with a twist of orange, it's a robust drink but one where the botanicals of the gin and the fruitiness of the vermouth play very nicely with the amaro's bitterness.

Not everybody is going to find Fernet-Branca's in-your-face persona attractive – but once you get it, you get it for good.