Let's just cut to the chase. It's come to my attention that there's been some recent, well, uproar about Aperol spritzes.
ICYMI, The New York Times delivered a fiery, smokin’-hot take on the summery cocktail that's been trolling Instagram since 2017. "The Aperol Spritz Is Not a Good Drink,” the headline reads. Naturally, many have a bone to pick. On the other hand, some agree.
“Served in branded, jumbo wine glasses, the sugary apéritif is paired with low-quality prosecco, soda water and an outsize orange slice, resulting in something that drinks like a Capri Sun after soccer practice on a hot day. Not in a good way,” the piece states.
OK, to each their own. But I happen to love Capri Sun and Aperol spritzes. (I never played soccer—but I digress.)
The entire point of a Capri Sun is that it's not really that good, but it gets the job done (you know, quenching your thirst and filling you with nostalgia and a vague sense of regret for all the sugar you've just consumed). I'd argue the same for the Aperol spritz. I may not be an American tourist in Italy, but I can feel just like one with a giant, branded, neon orange drink in hand. My thirst is quenched, I've gotten some content for the ’Gram, and all is right in the world. (Is that just the alcohol talking? I can't tell.)
I don't believe in the concept of "basicness," but call me basic as hell. The Aperol spritz is so bad it's good. It tastes like a children's vitamin and looks like a Mediterranean sunset. If you let the ice water it down just so, it's like drinking a Capri Sun after soccer practice when you were a kid—and baby, I love nostalgia, especially when it comes with an orange-wedge garnish.
Sure, the Aperol Spritz may be mediocre but popular—but so are A Star Is Born, Game of Thrones and rosé. There are so many things to feel sad about already, cocktails notwithstanding. Plastic in oceans? Yes. Aperol spritzes? Just let me spritz in peace, honey.