The Aperol-spritz movement started in Venice, where 200 of them are consumed every minute.

Our Cups Runneth Over

The popularity of Aperol, the alluringly colored aperitif, has exploded far beyond the cocktail bars of Venice. Who’s to blame?

By Simon Mills

For travelers to Europe, the rainbow of aperitifs in Mediterranean bars and restaurants has long been a fascination.

There is the extraordinary concoction, the color of Kermit’s blood, served in iced highballs that all four members of that stylish French family are sipping. (Crème de menthe.) Shall I try the bright-yellow stuff that shimmers like liquid gold in the Portofino sunshine? (Limoncello.) And who in their right mind would want to drink anything neon blue on the shores of Juan-les-Pins? (You do. It’s an anise liquor called P’tit Bleu.)