Translated, it means “one hundred herbs” — and this amaro drinks like a herbal encyclopaedia soaked in mystery and mountain smoke. Made from wild botanicals foraged in the Cuneo Alps, this is a proper Italian digestivo — bitter, earthy, herbal, with no artificial flash.

The nose is forest floor and herbal medicine. Pine sap, gentian root, dried flowers, rhubarb, and the faintest touch of cinnamon. There’s a wild complexity — like crushed alpine moss, orange peel, and medicinal bark. No one note dominates. It smells alive.

The palate is punchy and bitter from the start. Gentian, wormwood, and citrus rind give structure, while sweeter notes — honey, chamomile, maybe a touch of raisin — round the middle. Mid-palate it turns darker: myrrh, bay leaf, and the dry tang of green walnut. It finishes dry, bitter, and complex — like a walk through a botanical garden at dusk.

Drink it straight after dinner, or mix it 50/50 with Bordiga Vermouth for a stunning low-ABV sipper. This is grandpa’s favourite amaro, if your grandpa was an alchemist.