There's a fairy tale quality to fernet -- we're talking Brothers Grimm here, not Walt Disney. Alone in a glass, the cola-brown spirit conjures the woods and strange roots dealt by witches; there are medicinal notes, too, but of the sort bought in burlap and taken on faith.

A magical series of things happens when you do a shot of it. First, you recoil from the lacquer of black licorice and fresh paint, it's alarming and tongue-coating. Once it's gone, your brain sorts out what's happened, and any given drinker will describe different phantoms -- chocolate, caramel, mushrooms, earth, mint, orange oil, mouth wash. Finally, you join one of two groups of human beings: those who will never try fernet again, and those who will never again live without it.