Vermouth: What do you really need to know about the category?

@martin and I are currently working on an updated version of the Vermouth 101 website ( The main page / text will be streamlined but we’ll add more details on all aspects of vermouth on secondary pages. We need your help.

I have led many, many masterclasses on the subject over the last five years and think I have a pretty good idea of what people don’t know, want to know or think they know and should be told they actually don’t. Still, it is actually very hard to come up with a list of essential info that absolutely needs to be included on the revamped website.

So: what are the things you’d like to know about vermouth? What are the things you know but realize people you talk to don’t even though the subject interests them? Are there any very exciting debates around vermouth you and your friends get into late at night, around one last Manhattan and never seem to get to the bottom of? This is your chance to speak.

Please let us know and help us build on the best vermouth resource on the internet.


You maniacs.

Here I thought I had a decent working knowledge of vermouth and you’ve shown me to be a rank neophyte. Which, I suppose, is why I enjoy this site so much.

As for additions, more detailed tasting notes might help illuminate brand differences and point towards happy pairings. Sidebar histories (see prior discussion on Lillet) add a fascinating splash of color—at least to hopeless nerds like me. And a list of potential vendor links would be hellish to maintain, but deeply appreciated regardless.

You could gild the lily with more information on production techniques (and/or translate François’s book into English)—and as you refer to vermouth’s use in regional cooking, perhaps include a small selection of recipes as well.


Thank you, Doug, for your reply and sorry for not getting back to you earlier – a busy few days.

At this point we’re probably not going to focus on brands – we don’t want to turn this into a tasting-focused page or a buying guide. History is top of our mind, though, that’s for sure, and also a focus on production. Bitesize (internet! attention span!) but fulfilling enough (nerds and geeks!).

Just to see if it helps get the ball rolling and leads other users to offer their thoughts, let me give you a couple of examples which I think will help better understand what we’re looking to do.

  • Blanc / Bianco vermouth: a lot of people think there are two types of blanc – the dry (Noilly ED, Dolin Dry) and the sweet (Dolin Blanc / Martini Bianco). Or they think that it’s very sweet and was invented by Gancia (see Or they think it’s ‘semi-sweet’. But Blanc / Bianco is not a color, it’s a style – you can’t have a dry blanc --, it’s almost never sweeter (in terms of sugar content) than reds and if it ever was semi-sweet, it’s not been the case for well over a century. Finally, it was of course invented in Chambéry, not in Italy. There’s a lot of confusion on blanc / bianco and it will fall under the purview of the new version of the website to clarify this.
  • Colors in general: we’re really used to red vermouths but for 150 years, ‘rosso’ vermouth didn’t exist – all where golden, in more or less deep shades. Now, this is nice and important to mention at least in passing but I don’t think we need to dive deep into this so it’s not really something we’re looking to focus on.

Hope this clarifies a bit more what we’re looking to do – and if anyone has a comment / suggestion, please don’t hesitate. As it is, vermouth101 is already the best one-stop online resource for vermouth and we’re trying to build on this. We need your help…


Hey, just joining the community here, and saw this topic. I have scanned over the site a couple of times over the past years, and found it an invaluable resource for self and staff education. So wanted to start by saying thanks for taking the time and effort to create and maintain such a useful resource.

I would like to see some more information on the cultural and political forces that drove the creation of and adherence to differing styles in different regions and towns. Why did the French regions tend towards a dryer, white mistelle version, while the Italians favored the red? Was it simply utilitarian, or were there deeper social or jingoistic rationales behind the decisions? Given the uproarious nature of the region about the time major production and exportation was beginning, I would love to learn how various treaties and traditions played out in the creation of the categories.

Thank you again for the work you are doing on this project–it has proven tremendously helpful to me and mine.


Welcome and thanks for a great first post!

Those are excellent questions. I’m afraid, though, that this goes beyond the scope of our (initial?) expansion of the 101 website. It’s something that’d require us to go even more in depth.

This being said, I’m personally fascinated by the impact of political and economical upheavals on what we drink and eat and this something I’ve looked into quite deeply. So I’ll try to find some time in the coming days to at least share some of the info I have right here, if that’s fine with you.

Napoleonic wars, absolute monarchy’s resilience, liberal awakening have all had tremendous impact on modern vermouth’s first century. Struggle between free markets proponents and trade nationalist did change the shape of the industry in Spain and France at the end of the 19th century.

More details soon (hopefully!).


So, @C.Oneal, coming back to your comments, here are a few thoughts on the forces that shaped vermouth.

When we think of vermouth today, what we have in mind is a range of options that dates back to the 1910s. That’s when Italian vermouth became ‘red’ (before that, most vermouth were golden), but, most significantly, that’s when the vermouth industry as a whole settled on the dry / sweet white / ‘red’ (ie sweet and bitter) format. There had been other styles — vermouth amaro, vermouth with vanilla, vermouth with quina etc — but by then they were marginal, with few exceptions (think Punt e Mes). Most French houses started to produce Torino style in the late 19th century. Most Italian houses launched their dry and sweet biancos in the years before 1910. This homogenization was driven by market forces. Although some brands have launched vermouths 19th century style, most ‘antica formula’ and variants that we enjoy today are basically reinventions of the 1910 style.

What happened before the emergence of modern vermouth, then?

I’d divide this in two phases:

  • The birth of modern vermouth in Italy and France (1780 to 1840, roughly)
  • Industry (starting in the late 1830s, but only taking real importance over the next couple of decades)

Let’s start at the beginning.

In Turin, vermouth was born as a cafè drink. This doesn’t just mean that you’d drink it in cafes: the stuff was actually made in cafes and liquor shops. Back then, there was no free market. You had tolls and ‘customs’ at the ‘boundary’ between country and towns. Cafè owners could buy wine, have it brought to the city and make vermouth on their premises but they couldn’t sell their vermouth outside of their places of business or outside of town. Cora and Carpano were among those cafè or liquor shops operators who made vermouth. In those circumstances, they were in no position to create a brand and sell outside of their (very) local market. On top of that, those early years where really… tense. Napoleon’s little transalpine escapade begins in 1796 and Turin is more or less occupied until 1814. Afterwards, the backlash against French revolutionary values is strong, so between 1814 and the mid-1830s, the regime in Turin is markedly reactionary with strong restrictions on trade. The first Turin vermouth to be exported appears to have been Cora in 1838 — this is when expansion can begin.

Meanwhile, in France, there’s very little (more on that in a bit) vermouth. The first notable producer, Louis Noilly officially invents dry vermouth in Lyon in 1813 (some sources may lead us to think it actually happened a little earlier). Noilly didn’t run a café: he was a professional distiller and, as far as we know (we know little) produced a wide range of spirits. Initially, vermouth was one among many and it’s not until a couple of decades later than the firm became known for what remains its star product to this day. Usually, French vermouth is described as a gallic imitation of Italian vermouth. The timeline puts this into doubt: Turin vermouth had no presence whatsoever outside of the city when Noilly launched his own. Plus, if you’re going to imitate a sweet product (whether wine + sugar or made with sweet moscato), why the hell would you make it 3 to 4 times dryer?

Maybe because the French didn’t imitate the guys from Turin. Maybe because both invented reasonably similar products at more or less the same time… by accident. Here comes what I call ‘The Hungarian hypothesis’ (because that’s what it is… a hypothesis).

‘Wermuth’ first appears in Italian, in a Tuscan book, in 1773. In French, ‘Vermouth’ makes its appearance in 1783. The earliest ‘modern’ (ie not a version of a Greek or Roman wormwood wine) vermouth recipe I have found is from 1782. The question, for me, has always been: why vermouth? Why not ‘vin d’absinthe’? Or ‘Vino d’assenzio’? Why German? None of the explanations you find here and there have been remotely satisfying. While I was studying the early days of vermouth, I realized that much of the early French sources all agreed on one thing: ‘vermouth’ was a Hungarian drink. And indeed you find reference to wormwood-infused tokay, made in very small quantities and sold to the Habsburg court. The Habsburg family was the most powerful dynasty of the 18th century. In 1773, the Grand Duke of Tuscany is… a Habsburg. In France, even after Marie Antoinette’s (another Habsburg) beheading, Hungarian vermouth is sold in some of the first prestigious restaurants of Paris — a glass costing the same price as a bottle of Chablis. My take (you’re welcome to disagree) is that ‘vermouth’ was the name of a desirable drink that wasn’t accessible for the emerging ‘middle-class’. Café owners in Turin and distillers in Lyon identified the same opportunity and turned it in an incredibly sophisticated (but much cheaper) drink.

Vermouth only became a thing from the 1840s and 1850s (for all their 1786 claims, Carpano — as a brand — was only launched round 1840). Two forces help explain vermouth’s expansion. First, immigration: Italians took their product with them — or, sometimes, discovered them in their new countries, since back home it was too expensive for them. More significantly in its home countries, the years following the 1848 revolutions saw a modicum of prosperity, more leisure and some ‘middle-class’ — all necessary conditions for the viability of the aperitif as a moment of the day. Italy’s unification in 1861 also helped.

Interestingly, when vermouth got really popular in France (from 1880), the French were mostly drinking… Italian-style vermouth (produced in Italy or by French imitators). Noilly had important sales but they were in a category of their own — and no one drunk it straight. It’s only when US bartenders adopted the dry style for their mixed drinks that Italian producers started putting out their own version of dry vermouth, leading to the homogenization I mentioned earlier.

Of the three traditional vermouth countries, Spain was the latest in the game. There was vermouth in Spain before 1870, with some importation of French and Italian brands and a couple of local, very small scale players, but the first real brand appeared in 1871. It’s not an accident: an Italian, son of the King of Italy and born in Turin, had just been crowned King of Spain. He lasted three years (the country was a mess and he said ‘I’m having second thoughts about this’), but this still gave time to an entrepreneurial Catalan distiller to try and introduce in Spain his version of Turin’s official aromatized wine. The brand disappeared a few years later and when vermouth got really popular (around 1900), the major players were Martini and Cinzano, not local brands.

You were asking about styles and I did give some elements but there’s a couple more things I think will interest you.

I always explain a big difference between Italian vermouths and French aromatized wines is that the former are made with wine + sugar while the latter are made with mistelle. But this is a post-phylloxera trend. There was such a production surplus after phylloxera that french winegrowers — especially in Languedoc — had no idea what to do with all the grape. Their lobby obtained favorable fiscal treatment for mistelle (in spite of the fortification), which made the product extremely interesting. At the same time, there was a trade war between Spain and France with both countries raising tariffs. Byrrh, for example, was made with Malaga wine. They started using French mistelle instead, and so on. Noilly Prat is now made in Marseillan, near Montpellier, at the heart of Languedoc. Initially, Marseillan was just a warehouse where wines / mistelles bought locally transited on their way to Marseilles, where the business had relocated a few years before.

Additionally, the Spanish tariffs from the early 1880s also cut off Italian producers from that market, which explains why quite a bit of Spanish producers were founded in the 1880s: they wanted to take over the — still small at this stage — Italian trade. Martini and Cinzano went around the tariffs by opening their own wineries / distilleries in Spain. They obviously saw the potential.

I guess I’m forgetting a few things and I haven’t even mentioned Chambéry but this will have to do for now.


@francois Thank you so very much for this. It is exactly the kind of information I was hoping to get with my original question. As is so often the case, the web of interconnectivity that is the history of any enduring product can make appreciation so much deeper. Thanks again.

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A Greek magazine recently resurrected a piece I wrote for them in 2016. I visited Reus and Turin and tried and describe how vermouth evolved in both cities and how they are shaping its future.

The rather poorly edited copy (sorry for the mistakes) is now online:


I loved reading this. Over here, we’ve got vermouth bottles, some with ornate labels, brand pedigrees, and imposing-sounding years, but no context. This article helps address that.


In this summer’s issue of Imbibe, you’ll find an article I wrote on Catalonian vermouth – old and new. This was my last trip before COVID, so it’s a weird read for me but I do hope you will enjoy it.

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@francois Is there any hope for an English translation of El Gran Libro del Vermut? I’ve enjoyed the articles you have floating around and I’d love to find a way to dig into your book.

Thank you.

Unfortunately, the book is probably not going to be translated. I may write a new one after my next book is published – if both the publisher and I are happy about the collaboration – but it would be in Spanish again, and getting anything translated is really, really hard work.

The new vermouth101 website will in a way provide a ‘digest’ of my research. I just need to finish the texts – sorry, @martin, for the delays!

In the meantime, happy to address any pressing issue here.


Only realized today that my Tales of the Cocktail 101 seminar on Aromatized Wine is now online.

Anyone interested should head there:


Excellent! I hope this video will remain available indefinitely.

Such a pleasure to read this! A very clear account of the difference between the two styles of vermouth that manages to be both concise yet sweeping. I often get snickers from people (not students) when I tell them about the kinds of things Im currently teaching. But it’s hard to do the kind of thing you do here and make it look so effortless: the scope of history one has to know is vast. And moving back and forth between the big and small pictures is tricky with an audience that doesn’t know the topic. This piece is really masterful at that.

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