Paper Plane

It's the one Sam Ross specified and it's expensive, around double what most amari cost. Nonino is grappa-based and gentle, with an apricot note that sits well next to Aperol. Montenegro is the closest cheap swap. Ramazzotti makes a darker, more root-beer version that some people prefer.

You can, and the drink gets noticeably more bitter and less fruity. Aperol sits at 11 percent alcohol and leans orange candy. Campari is more than twice that and leans grapefruit pith. If you go that way, cut the Campari to 15 ml and add the difference to the bourbon.

Nothing improves it. The lemon is already loud, and an orange twist just muddies the line between the Aperol and the amaro. If you want to dress the glass, a paper plane on a pick is the joke everyone makes and it does no harm to the drink.

Proof matters more than brand. At 22 ml the bourbon is a quarter of the glass and a soft 40 percent bottle disappears under the amaro. Old Grand-Dad Bonded and Wild Turkey 101 both work, and Buffalo Trace at 45 percent is the softest I'd go.

A classic Paper Plane calls for 22 ml (0.75 oz) Bourbon, 22 ml (0.75 oz) Aperol, 22 ml (0.75 oz) Amaro, 22 ml (0.75 oz) Fresh lemon juice. That single-serve spec scales cleanly — the recipe above converts it to oz and multiplies it for 2–4 drinks.

A standard Paper Plane is roughly 22% ABV once mixed (before ice melt softens it further). That makes it spirit-forward — closer to a Martini than to a beer, so sip it slowly.

A Paper Plane is shaken — the rule of thumb is to shake anything with citrus juice. About 13 seconds with plenty of ice chills and dilutes it correctly.