Dear friends, our journey through the senses today reaches its most introspective stage, the one I like to call "twilight" and "autumnal": Amaro.
Forget for a moment the sweetness of the beginning or the vibration of salt. Amaro is a different kind of destination. It is the dark green of absinthe, the blues of Robert Johnson, the elegant restlessness of a seemingly never-ending sunset. It is the taste that arrives at the end, on the famous inverted "V" of our tongue, to seal the experience and determine its permanence in memory.
Forget for a moment the sweetness of the beginning or the vibration of salt. Amaro is a different kind of destination. It is the dark green of absinthe, the blues of Robert Johnson, the elegant restlessness of a seemingly never-ending sunset. It is the taste that arrives at the end, on the famous inverted "V" of our tongue, to seal the experience and determine its permanence in memory.
In this article, I'll tell you why bitterness isn't a flaw, but an achievement of adulthood. It's the ability to appreciate complexity, dark chocolate, tobacco, raw artichoke. It's the chemistry of polyphenols and tannins that interact with time and wood, transforming into identity.
Bitterness is the mirror of human incompleteness, but it's also a promise of depth: it's the trail that wine leaves behind to tell us that, beyond the fleeting moment of the sip, there exists an indelible trace of our being.
👉 Read the full article here: (link)
Bitterness is the mirror of human incompleteness, but it's also a promise of depth: it's the trail that wine leaves behind to tell us that, beyond the fleeting moment of the sip, there exists an indelible trace of our being.
👉 Read the full article here: (link)
Roberto Cipresso
Wine Consultant, and Author. Expert in terroir viticulture
