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The name "Fernet" itself was invented then, too, an exotic moniker that loosely implies the use of a "clean iron" in the distillation process, which has since been used for knockoffs like Luxardo Fernet Amaropad and Fernet Stock.
The first adverts in local political papers boasted of a "febrifuge, vermifuge, tonic, anti-choleric, warming pick-me-up" that could be mixed with everything from vermouth to animal broth. Scala wisely marketed it to women to ease menstrual discomfort (until 1913, only women were depicted drinking it in advertisements), but it was also lauded to aid digestion, impede nervous irritation, stimulate the appetite, treat troubles of the "splean," cure anxiety, quell stomach aches and headaches, and arrest the effects of old age.
And the lie spread like wildfire. During the period of shaky near-science at the mid-1840s, old Bernardino's secret concoction of herbs and spices -- which was first credited to a fictional long-lived Swede named Dr. Fernet Svedese and later a clandestine sect of friars from a remote alpine hermitage -- became one of the most successful products in pre-unification Italy. During a time when bloodletting was common and antibiotics were unheard-of, Fernet-Branca -- with its peculiar alcohol kick and heady dose of opiates -- was a certain miracle cure. In stark contrast to the draconian warnings of our modern-day surgeons general, it was widely endorsed by doctors. Some even stocked it in their hospitals.
Popularized by clever advertising -- iconic images of Romanesque women, colorful jesters, and the euphoric alligator (an animal famed for its great digestive abilities) -- Fernet went global. At the turn of the century, Italian illustrator Leopoldo Metlicovitz designed the logo that still graces the bottle: a land-and-water globe under an eagle whose talons clutch the miracle bottle, delivering Italy's "gift to the world" to every continent. The drink came to the United States in the suitcases of Italian immigrants, finding a home in the Italian wards of San Francisco, New York City, Baltimore, and Detroit, as well as those throughout Central and South America.
When Prohibition laws were passed in the U.S. in 1919, the myth of Fernet-Branca was a salvation: Imported as a medicine, it was perhaps the only package liquor legally sold in the States. A year before the 18th Amendment was repealed, the demand for Fernet-Branca was so great that the Branca family, then in its fourth generation of ownership, opened an American distillery in New York City's Tribeca. The paperwork of the distillery lists deliveries to more than 40 San Francisco drugstores, most of which were in North Beach.
After enduring blue laws and the Second World War (during which the American distillery was deemed "essential" to the same war effort that bombed the Italian distillery), the popularity of Fernet-Branca soared, with production from the American distillery peaking in 1960, when it produced more than 60,000 cases. With the Drug Regulation Reform Act of 1978, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms took a more investigative sip of the drink and tightened controls on Fernet-Branca, forcing one of the few changes in the recipe in order to bring opiates down to legal levels.
Today Fernet-Branca is 80 proof, with only trace amounts of opiates. Bottles of the earlier opiate-rich brew are rare and can be identified by true Fernet-Branca scholars upon a close examination of the label.
Ferneducator: One who teaches others about Fernet-Branca.
-- Fernet-Etiquette glossary, date and author unknown
On a sunny afternoon, the bottles of trendy new liquor behind the bar at Pier 23 seem a lot like celebrity weddings: colorful, slightly nauseating, and quickly forgotten. The biggest fad drink currently is a turquoise blend of vodka, cognac, and fruit juice -- Hpnotiq is its name -- which tastes like Kool-Aid and leaves many a Tri Delt with morning-after regret.
"Every other day there is another vodka in a frosted bottle with a fuckin' albatross on it," says Mike Fogarty. "In two months, no one will order the stuff. You can make a lamp out of it."
On the other hand, the mean-looking bottles of Fernet-Branca stay on lower shelves, within the easy reach of the bartenders.
A longtime San Francisco bartender, Fogarty (who, with a wink, adds that he only ever drinks the stuff in moderation) is joined at Pier 23 by Dave Supple from Dave's Bar and the owners of San Francisco's No. 1 Fernet destination, the R Bar, which is owned by Tod Alsman and Mike's son, Chris Fogarty. At the R Bar, Alsman and Chris Fogarty serve more Fernet-Branca than any other bar in North America; Chris' dad and Supple have also been serving it for years. It's a round-table liquid lunch with San Francisco's Fernet ambassadors, which is something of a family tradition.
Supple and the senior Fogarty tell the story of Fernet's slow expansion from old-school North Beach businesses. Today it's the younger generation of the bar and food service industry that's largely responsible for the liqueur's vogue. From its deep roots in the Italian-American community, the gospel of Fernet was spread by bartenders and servers to the customers in the city's foodie set. Fernet-Branca found the route to San Francisco's heart through its stomach.
"We're an industry bar, and all the hotel and restaurant people come after work," explains Supple. "For a while we would keep Fernet for the old-timers, 'cause no one else drank it." As Supple explains it, everyone will always want to drink what the bartender drinks, and that way Fernet's popularity bridged the gap between the generations.