It’s Not an Aperol Spritz. It’s an Aperol Schlitz.

Beer and bitter come together in a surprisingly delectable riff on the Collins.

This week’s cocktail comes from three lines of thought that initially seemed totally unrelated. 

First, it’s Labor Day weekend. Happy holidays. This week’s edition is free to all subscribers.

I am of the belief that the best way to celebrate Labor Day is to do as little work as possible. Sit outdoors. Read a novel. Grill something. Probably you should drink a beer. I write this to you from the North Shore of Boston,¹ on a quasi-vacation, and that is pretty much my plan for the weekend. 

But this is a cocktail newsletter, so while I would recommend drinking a beer, I’m not just going to tell you to just drink a beer. 

It’s Not a Spritz

Second, I have been thinking for some years now about the Aperol Spritz, in something like the way one thinks about things like Fermi’s Paradox, or the mysteries of cryptography, or the precise moment the dinosaurs died: These things are all interesting, and certain people become obsessed with them. I enjoy considering them idly, from time to time, and reading popular articles every now and then. But do I have anything relevant to add? Probably not. 

So it is with the Aperol Spritz. 

And yet: Several years ago, it was the drink of the summer. Eventually, it was also semi-officially deemed not a good drink by Rebekah Peppler in The New York Times. (Cocktail backlash cycles are nearly as reliable as seasons.)

Meanwhile, I am not on TikTok, but I am reliably informed that in the summers since, the drink has spawned endless permutations on the social network, becoming a template for invention and experimentation. While I haven’t gone out of my way to try any of these, I suspect that at least some of them are pretty good. (If nothing else, I appreciate booze-based innovation.)

In any case, it has sometimes seemed as if the Aperol Spritz is the drink everyone wants to talk about. 

My main opinion about the Aperol Spritz — a mix of the Italian red bitter Aperol, sparkling wine like Prosecco, and in some cases a bit of seltzer or club soda — is that it’s not a particularly good drink, but not a terrible one either. It is often poured indifferently, with too much ice and not enough Aperol. You end up with a big, sweating glass of vaguely orange-colored, watered-down Prosecco. I’d rather just have a beer.  

On the other hand, the Aperol Spritz is light and drinkable. And — importantly — it has helped raise the profile of Aperol and other similar bitter liqueurs, encouraging some reluctant amaro drinkers to try more adventurous bitter cocktails and inspiring younger drinkers to tinker with the format. The Aperol Spritz itself may not be a great drink, but it has had some salutary effects on the cocktail scene. 

Beyond that, however, I have sometimes found myself wondering what would I say about the Aperol Spritz.

And what I would say is: If you like them, make them. Good for you. Life is short; enjoy it. Maybe try a Negroni? This is not really enough to hang a column on. So as with “just drink a beer,” I am not going to say “just drink an Aperol Spritz.” 

Collins Show 

Third, as readers of this newsletter know, I have recently been thinking quite a bit about Collins-style cocktails, particularly those constructed out of bitter ingredients like Campari and Cynar. I tend to think of  Aperol as the lighter, sweeter, easier-going cousin to those Italian bitter liqueurs, so naturally, it was on my mind too. 

And as I was imagining ways to vary and expand my Collins repertoire, I also thought of Damon Boelte’s Americano Perfecto, an enormously clever cocktail that takes the Americano — sweet vermouth, Campari, and seltzer — and swaps out the seltzer for beer. 

Here is where the three threads began to weave together, like the third act of some twisty thriller: At some point, the thought occurred to me that I could make a bitter Collins style with beer instead of seltzer. 

I have gone through various Beer Guy phases, and these days I am particularly fond of lightly bitter session ales and well-made pilsners. But I have also come to the conclusion that summer beer, and especially summer party beer, should be cold, plentiful, and cheap. 

When the heat is punishing and beer is as much a form of air conditioning as a beverage to be tasted, I find there is little point in stocking exotic options. Warm-weather party beer should be a chilly and enjoyable sidekick; it need not be exceptionally interesting.

So these days, the beers that are most often found at my house are cheap basics like Narragansett and Pabst Blue Ribbon that end up left over from various social gatherings.  

Thus, when I set out to test beer-swapped Collins recipes, I began with what was on hand, which meant summer party beer — in this case, PBR. And I used Aperol, partly because it’s a common enough bottle that wasn’t used in last week’s Campari and Cynar versions, and partly because I have a vague recollection of once enjoying an Aperol/beer combo at a local bar. 

The Aperol/PBR bitter beer Collins worked shockingly well, improving both the beer and the Aperol. 

What, I wondered, could I do to make it even better?

And then I remembered: There is a very tolerable basic lager from Wisconsin that is — if not sold quite as widely as PBR — available for purchase in much of the country: Schlitz. 

I am helpless, simply helpless, before a pun-name cocktail, a weakness that is multiplied considerably if it turns out to be delicious. And this one did. 

You have read the subject line. You can see where this is going. 

Folks, I had it: it wasn’t an Aperol Spritz. 

It was an Aperol Schlitz. 

Aperol My Life I’ve Been Looking For Something

This is a gimmick cocktail with a joke name. It’s also unexpectedly delicious, to the point where even after having made quite a few of these I continue to be surprised at how good it is.

It is much, much tastier than a silly-seeming beer-based gimmick drink like this has any right to be. And it pours a pleasantly appealing bright orange color as well. 

Like the Collins-style drinks of the last few weeks, it adheres to the Universal Collins Ratio, with lemon juice and sugar that is equal to the volume of spirit, and a spirit-lemon-sugar portion that is equal to the volume of carbonated ingredient — in this case, beer. 

Beer and Aperol really do complement each other rather gracefully, emphasizing the mellow orange bitterness of the Aperol and the creamy, almost caramel notes of the beer. 

The drink comes surprisingly close to tasting like a more complex, less sweet version of orange cream soda, with a gently bitter edge. 

It’s easy to make, easy to drink, hits many of the same bubbly-sweet-bitter pleasure centers as an Aperol Spritz, but is better balanced and more rigorously structured. And since you’ll have most of a can of Schlitz to dispose of after you’re finished making the drink, it also involves drinking beer — which you really should do, because it’s Labor Day.  

Aperol Schlitz 

• 3 drops 20 percent saline solution*

• ¾ ounce rich 2:1 simple syrup**

• ¾ ounce fresh lemon juice

• 1 ½ ounces Aperol

• 3 ounces Schlitz beer “to bottom”

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Fill a narrow glass with ice, then add beer. 

2. Combine other ingredients in a cocktail shaker. Add a small amount of ice, just a few cubes, then shake briefly to chill and aerate. 

3. Strain mix from cocktail shaker into glass, on top of ice and beer. Drink through a straw. 

(If you are looking to make swaps, you can always use a basic lager beer other than Schlitz in that slot. Like I said, my first attempt used PBR, which isn’t quite as creamy but works very well. You can also swap out the Amaro for Cynar, Averna, Campari, or most other popular Italian-style bitter liqueurs, although doing so will change the flavor profile considerably.)  

*Saline solution: Combine 1 part salt and 4 parts water (by volume) in a small saucepan. Heat on medium-low, stirring occasionally, until full integrated. Store in a dropper bottle at room temp; lasts many months. 

**Rich (2:1) simple syrup: Combine 2 parts sugar with 1 part water, by weight — so for example 400 grams sugar and 200 grams water — in a blender. Blend on high for 2-3 minutes, until fully integrated. Bottle and store in the fridge. Lasts at least a month. 

Large Dogs Near the Beach

1. This newsletter is brought to you in part by Blanchard’s in Revere, which sold me what may be the last six-pack of Schlitz in the area.