In Madrid, Barcelona and plenty of smaller towns there is a habit called la hora del vermut: a glass of red vermouth before lunch, taken standing at a bar with something salty on the side. It is not a cocktail, and it is not a ritual with rules. It is a pause, and a good excuse to meet someone.
How we pour it
Spanish vermut is sweeter and more herbal than the vermouth most Americans know from a Manhattan. We pour ours from the tap, over one large ice cube, with a slice of orange and a green olive on a pick. Some guests add a splash of soda water; the bartender will ask.
- Red vermut on tap, served over ice with orange and an olive.
- A white vermut, lighter and more floral, for warm evenings.
- A vermut with soda, longer and lighter again.
What goes with it
The classic partners are the ones that come out of a tin or a jar: anchovies, mussels in escabeche, pickled guindilla peppers, potato chips. The bitterness in the vermut cuts through the oil and the vinegar, and its sweetness rounds off the salt. We keep a short list of these conservas at the bar for exactly this purpose.
Vermut is the drink you have while you decide what else you want.
There is no special hour for it on this side of the Atlantic, and no need for one. Order a vermut when you sit down, share a tin of anchovies, and let the rest of the evening take its time.