Garibaldi

You can, but pick a not-from-concentrate carton and blend it for ten seconds before pouring. Long-life juice tastes cooked next to Campari, and it has no air in it, so the drink lands flat and thin instead of foamy.

Whip the juice on its own first. Ten seconds with a stick blender, or twenty seconds shaken hard in a sealed jar with no ice, builds enough foam. Pour the Campari over ice, add the aerated juice on top, and don't stir it back down.

It works, but you get a different drink. Aperol is sweeter and about half the strength, so 45 ml of it in the same glass reads as sweet orange soda. If you go that way, cut the juice to 90 ml and add a squeeze of lemon for grip.

Brunch, mostly, and the arithmetic backs it up. Campari sits around 25 percent, and 45 ml of it stretched over 120 ml of juice puts the finished glass somewhere near a glass of wine. It's the aperitivo you can have at eleven in the morning without regret.

A classic Garibaldi calls for 45 ml (1.5 oz) Campari, 120 ml (4 oz) Orange juice. That single-serve spec scales cleanly — the recipe above converts it to oz and multiplies it for 2–4 drinks.

A standard Garibaldi is roughly 7% ABV once mixed (before ice melt softens it further). That makes it a relatively light, sessionable drink — similar in strength to a beer.

A Garibaldi is stirred, not shaken. It contains no citrus juice, so stirring keeps it crystal clear and silky instead of cloudy and aerated.