Just for Spritz and Giggles

Ahhh… summer. The season of sun, sand, and sea. Many people look forward to the simple pleasures that summer affords: time to bask at the beach or in the local park, local fairs and amusement, drying off all of your sweat by starfishing in front of your AC unit. Another integral part of summer is indulging in the seasonal palette, such as ripe fruits, fresh veggies, and for those who imbibe, an ice cold adult beverage. Summer was set up for success from the moment fresh fruit and alcohol met on a blind date. 

As I sit here, contemplating seasonal cocktails, one frontrunner comes to mind that fits all events, occasions, and simply screams summer: the Aperol Spritz. A sturdy wine glass, filled up high with ice, mixed with the right proportions of Aperol, prosecco, and soda water, garnished with a juicy orange slice — how could you not crave such a drink on a patio in the sun? This contemplation led me down the rabbit hole of, where did this delightful summer drink come from? Who do we have to thank for such a concoction? To answer our question, we must go east, a long-ass time ago. 

The first component of our drink-in-question, the spritz, came about in the 1800s, when northern Italy was dominated by the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Visitors and soldiers inhabiting the region found Italian wines to be too strong for their tastes, so they opted to dilute the liquid gold with water — a splash, or “spritz” in German, to be precise. As spritzes became popular in this region of Europe, people eventually began to upgrade the drink in baby steps. A spritz of water became a spritz of sparkling water; a spritz of sparkling water turned into sparkling water and spritzes of prosecco; and a simply diluted drink eventually became a crafty cocktail of wine, prosecco, sparkling water, and liqueurs for some extra oomph. 

Later down the line came Aperol, after brothers Luigi and Silvio Barbieri of Padua, Italy inherited their father’s liquor company in 1912. The brothers experimented for seven years, mixing just the right balance of bitter and sweet oranges with hints of rhubarb, to eventually create what we know now as Aperol in 1919. The name was inspired by the French term for aperitivo, or pre-meal drink, which is “Apéro.” Aperitivos were, and still are, highly popular drinks for their low alcohol content and digestive qualities. Stemming from the Latin verb aperire, to open, aperitivos are consumed in an effort to open your stomach and get your appetite moving before a meal.

Aperol grew to be a crowd favorite in its native Veneto region in Italy. No one seems to know who had the million-dollar idea to combine a good old spritz and the shiny new Aperol, but it seems to have occurred somewhere around 1950. In an effort to control the Venetian market and branch Aperol out further, the Campari Group acquired the Aperol brand in 2003. Once they had a grip on Aperol, the Campari Group expended enormous effort on advertising the lesser-known Aperol spritz to international consumers. Eventually, the hype caught on, and now Aperol spritzes lead the horse race in popular summertime beverages. 

The hype is real, by the way. According to the Campari Group’s reported sales numbers, the first quarter of 2022 boasted a 71.9% growth in sales. They reported that Aperol’s results were led by its core Italian market (up by 101.4%), Germany (up by 79.2%), the US (up by 51.2%), and France (up by 79.5%). This boost in numbers comes not only from the mass reopening of bars in Europe post-COVID, but also due in part to bars stockpiling before Aperol’s prices skyrocket with inflation. The increase in popularity also can be attributed to people in and around Europe choosing to drink lighter drinks in the face of an increasingly health-conscious society. 

Regardless of the reasons for its popularity, the Aperol spritz is a drink that has been around for roughly 70 years, and one that will not stop being refreshing any time soon. So, the next time you’re sitting on the patio of your favorite restaurant, sipping on an Aperol spritz, I hope you think of those Austro-Hungarian soldiers who couldn’t handle their wine, and I hope you thank the Barbieri brothers for their tedious experimentation. Cheers!