Before leaving the city, there were two things left to do. The first was to try one of the few Fernet cocktails actually listed on a menu, the “606,’’ at the popular restaurant Nopa. It was a perfectly balanced combination of Bols Genever, Fernet Branca, and Dolin Sweet Vermouth.
The second was a deviation from the trendy milieu of the food and drink industry; I wanted to see how my great-uncle and -aunt, who are both in their 80s, worldly, and live across the bay on the Berkeley-Oakland line, would react to Fernet. Here, at last, I would get a more neutral reading of this storied drink.
After gorging myself on one of my great-aunt’s mouthwatering meals - the better to test Fernet’s purported virtue as a digestif - and commencing a long game of Scrabble, I broke out the bottle. My great-aunt took a nip and gave an ambiguous poker face I interpreted as politeness. My great-uncle, who likewise appeared less than enthusiastic, noted with a slight frown: “Well, it’s interesting.’’
It struck me that perhaps Fernet was destined to remain a niche drink in San Francisco’s bar scene. But as we battled on in Scrabble, I noticed my great-aunt continuing to sip the Fernet with what eventually became an expression of relish. As she reached the bottom of the small tasting glass, a mischievous smile crept across her face - and she asked me to pour her just a little more.
Russ Juskalian can be reached at rjuskalian@gmail.com.