It's Made With WHAT?

If Cynar is Campari's homely cousin, Aperol is its hot younger sister. Bright orange in color and containing 11 percent alcohol (less than in most glasses of wine), it's a sweet and bitter blend of 30 herbs, spices and more, including orange, rhubarb and gentian. This past winter, as Aperol came on the scene, the influential Spirit Journal wrote that "if there is any justice, [it] should become a favored pre-dinner quaff in aware U.S. households and restaurants."

Aperol is a great light drink for a summer afternoon. The most popular way to enjoy it is in an Aperol Spritz: on the rocks, topped with a little spumante or prosecco and a splash of club soda.

Chris Cunningham, the bar manager at Dino in Cleveland Park, offers several Italian liqueurs, including Cynar and Aperol, and has created several cocktails with them. So far, he says, it's been relatively easy to turn people on to the Aperol Spritz. "The bright color alone is huge in deciding if you're really going to like something," he says, adding that women have been most receptive.

Cynar, on the other hand, has been more challenging. The picture of the artichoke on the bottle does not help. Neither does the fact that the name shares four letters with the word cyanide. But Cunningham is creating converts. "People at first are like, 'Eww, what's that like?' " Cunningham says. "I always tell them, 'It's not as bad as you'd think.' " He adds: "Once they try it, most people really like it."

In fact, Cynar mixes much better than Aperol with the harder stuff. Some bartenders, for instance, are using it in Manhattans, along with sweet vermouth.

To gain a full appreciation, Cunningham suggests first trying Cynar on the rocks, with club soda and a slice of orange. It may take a few sips to wrap your mind around the bittersweet flavor.

Then try using Cynar as an alternative to other bitter aperitifs. Cunningham, for instance, makes a drink at Dino in which Cynar replaces Campari in the traditional Negroni: equal parts Junipero gin, sweet vermouth and Cynar. To which I would add a dash of bitters and a squeeze of orange juice.

To my mind, his Cin-Cyn (a play on the Italian for "Cheers!") is the perfect first drink of the evening, living up to the aperitivo name by preparing the appetite for the meal to come. I offer the recipe here as my means of converting the Cynar nonbelievers.

Still skeptical? Let's just pretend I never told you about the artichokes. And about that brown hue: It's really a lovely sepia tone. Really.

Jason Wilson's Spirits column appears every other week. He can be reached atfood@washpost.com.