The Nightshade Negroni for July

A Libation from Lucien & Sabine
July 2025: Chill the Red, Break the Rules

Lucien Speaks:

Ah, the Negroni. Bitter, blood-red, unapologetically bold—just like my last three flings.

It’s a classic, yes, but also a little tired. And darling, if I wanted tired I’d pour you a lukewarm Cab and ask about your 401(k).
Instead, we’re taking the Negroni into forbidden territory—right where it belongs.

Enter: The Nightshade Negroni. A cocktail for rule-breakers, heat-seekers, and anyone who’s ever been told, “that’s not how you’re supposed to drink that.”

We’re swapping the gin for a chilled carbonic red wine—juicy, flirty, and just acidic enough to cut through your illusions. Add in bitter Campari and a dry vermouth that knows how to mind its business, and you’ve got a potion that tastes like twilight in a glass.

Is it a Negroni? Is it wine? Yes. And also—more.

Sabine Interrupts (with a stained notebook and wild eyes):

YES YES YES! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for someone to let wine misbehave properly? This cocktail is a boundary-dissolver—a line-blurrer! A flavor experiment! A liquid sigil for rebellion!

Also: tomatoes.

(Let me explain.)

Tomatoes are technically nightshades. So are peppers. So is bittersweetness. So is that one dream I had where a garden whispered in Latin. And I absolutely stand by adding a cherry tomato or a single pink peppercorn if you want to summon the taste of mischief itself.

This drink is for sweltering evenings and decisions you can’t take back. It’s not refined. It’s electric. It’s Lucien’s cheekbones and my second fermentation closet all in one glass. And it’s perfect for July.

The Nightshade Negroni Recipe

Ingredients:

• 2 oz chilled, juicy red wine (Think: Frappato, Gamay, chilled Sangiovese, or anything you’d whisper to instead of decant)

• 1 oz Campari

• 1 oz dry vermouth (not sweet—don’t make me come over there)

• Optional: Muddled cherry tomato or few pink peppercorns

• Garnish: Orange twist, basil leaf, or Sabine’s pick: a single edible flower stolen from someone’s garden

Instructions:

1. If you’re adding the tomato (DO IT), muddle it gently in the bottom of a mixing glass.

2. Add Campari, vermouth, and your chilled red wine over ice.

3. Stir lovingly but with intent. Imagine you’re stirring secrets into silence.

4. Strain into a rocks glass over fresh ice (or a single large cube if you’re Lucien and dramatic).

5. Garnish as desired—but do not skip the flourish. This is a drink that arrives.

Serving Notes from Lucien:

Serve at sunset. Serve to someone who’s never had a Negroni. Serve to someone who thinks they don’t like red wine. Most importantly: serve yourself first. Always.

Pairs beautifully with:

• Wilted morals

• Heat lightning

• A second glass

A Final Word from Sabine (who is now barefoot and humming):

Drinks like this don’t come from rules. They come from curiosity—from the clink of ice and the whisper of something just a little wrong. Drink it slowly. Let it melt into you. See what comes undone.

And if it tastes like trouble… well.
That means it’s working.