My journey here starts with the above-pictured Underberg, a favored digestive aid since 1846, sprung from this same medicinal tradition. It's also part of the larger general family known as Kräuterlikör, a class of after-dinner drinks which, thanks to the work of herbalists like Hildegard of Bingen, allows you to quaff deep drafts of what’s essentially condensed forest juice, locally sourced from some of Europe’s most interesting old-growth woods. You can also settle for blindly downing too many shots of Jagermeister (the most famous, if not greatest, contemporary Kräuterlikör) and giving yourself a massive sugar-induced hangover the next day.
As with German and Italian culture as a whole, the Kräuterlikör tradition bleeds into that of amari, both of them operating under the larger tradition of “bitters.” This is probably the best catch-all name for dark and vegetal beverages rooted in the patent medicine tradition, except for the fact that it also includes many lighter, more astringent drinks that are normally classed as apertifs. I also personally feel like the term “bitter,” is too tightly connected with the Angostura/Peychaud wing of dropper-delivered cocktail ingredients. Italian amari, on the other hand, demand to be drank in large portions, or at least to command any cocktail to which they are added. I’ve never been a huge fan of Fernet Branca, but my increasingly adult tastebuds have recently developed a fondness for Cynar, a bittersweet blend whose primary ingredient is artichokes.