It's not for everyone.

In a good bar, there's usually a bottle that never makes the menu. The bartender keeps it low on the shelf and reaches for it only when the right person is sitting in front of them. A small pour, slid across the bar, with the same line every time: it's not for everyone, but it might be for you.

That pour is where Casamara Club comes from.

the founders of Casamara Club — Founders Erica Johnson and Jason LaValla.

For founder Jason LaValla, it was a taste of amaro, passed across the bar, that opened a door. He spent the next few years chasing the feeling: reading the history, sourcing rare botanicals, extracting and blending his own amaro and bitters at the kitchen table. Meanwhile, founder Erica Johnson was working in food, helping small Italian producers share their craft with people who would truly appreciate it. She would end a night in a cocktail bar wondering why no one took soft drinks half as seriously as what was on the back bar.

They found each other on the same path and set out to make the thing neither could find on their own: a soft drink for people who trust their own taste, good enough to belong on the table next to the wine and the spirits.

What's actually in the can

Everyone says they source the finest ingredients. Of course they do. It's like a painter bragging about good paint.

The harder part is what happens next. Every botanical goes in on its own: Italian chinotto, juniper, orris root, mandarin, sage, rhubarb root, depending on the flavor. Each is extracted separately, then blended to a house spec. Real cane sugar or orange blossom honey and a little citrus bring it into balance, a particular line between bitter, sweet, and tart that took years of kitchen-table work to find. The result is extra dry, about 4g of sugar, and refreshing enough to drink straight through dinner.

The people who notice tend to work in the room

Casamara Club now pours at more than 100 of the best restaurants and bars in the country. The press caught up too. Bon Appétit called it “an absolute stunner.” Epicurious wrote that each soda “tastes remarkably like an amaro spritz, just without the alcohol.” Robb Report said the sodas are “so dry and complex they redefine the notion of a soft drink.”

"I could slowly sip this all day."
— bartender Natasha David

Some of the people who love it never drink alcohol. Most of them do. The point was never the absence of anything. The point is taste.

The sodas

Six botanical sodas, each built around a place. Alta carries the pink-citrus bite of a Negroni. Como runs cool and alpine. Onda is green and almost savory, like a coastal amaro. Sera is tart and dry as a sparkling rosé. Isla is warm with ginger and molasses. Fora is floral, with strawberry and hibiscus. All extra dry, all built to pair with what's on the plate instead of fighting it.

Superclasico

Then there's Superclasico, the one with a good deal more to say. A non-alcoholic aperitivo, full-flavored and bittersweet, built on Italian chinotto and kola nut, with red currant, juniper, and a round of Madagascar vanilla on the finish. More refreshing than a Negroni, more complex than a spritz, and meant to be served simply over ice.

How to drink it

Serve it cold, in a small glass. Pour a little at a time so the aromatics have room to open, and add a twist of citrus if you have one. Glass and garnish optional.

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