The Joy of Aperitivo
There are certain rituals that become part of your life before you even realise it.
For me, aperitivo is one of them.
At first, it simply felt like another pleasant part of living in Italy - a drink before dinner, a few olives on the side, people gathering outside bars as the evening light softened across piazza and narrow streets.
But somewhere along the way, aperitivo became something I genuinely looked forward to. Not because of the drinks themselves, but because of the feeling surrounding them.
Aperitivo feels relaxed in a way that is increasingly rare. There are no real rules. No pressure to do it “correctly”. No fixed format.
Unlike cooking a traditional Italian dish, where recipes are often followed carefully and everyone seems to have strong opinions about the proper way to make something, aperitivo feels wonderfully forgiving.
Nobody really judges how you conduct an aperitivo. There are no strict recipes to follow, no expectations to impress anyone. You simply put together whatever you feel like eating and drinking that evening and enjoy the moment.
Sometimes it is just one drink before dinner.
Sometimes it slowly turns into a full meal without anyone planning for it to happen.
Some bars serve only crisps and peanuts. Others suddenly arrive with little pizzas, focaccia, olives, fried snacks or small plates that seem endless. There is even a word for when aperitivo becomes dinner itself - apericena.
And somehow, that unpredictability is part of the joy.
One of the things I love most about aperitivo is how informal it feels.
You can have it almost anywhere. At a tiny local bar. By the sea. Beside a swimming pool. At home with whatever happens to be in the fridge.
Over time, I realised I did not only enjoy aperitivo in Italy. I had started bringing the ritual with me wherever I went.
At home, we often prepare simple spreads ourselves - guacamole, hummus, bruschetta, tomatoes, crisps, olives, whatever feels right that evening. Sometimes it becomes surprisingly elaborate. Other times, it is just a bowl of crisps beside a cold drink after a long day.
The point is never perfection.
There is something comforting about how little aperitivo asks from you.
No reservations months in advance. No dress codes. No pressure to create a perfect evening.
Just a small pause before dinner while the day slowly softens into night.
People linger outside bars chit chatting. Glasses catch the last light of the evening. Tables slowly fill with snacks that nobody originally intended to order. One drink becomes another. Conversations stretch naturally into dinner.
Even the drinks themselves feel playful.
My personal favourite is called “Indeciso” (Indecisive) - half Aperol, half Campari. Less sweet than a classic Aperol Spritz, less bitter than Campari. Somewhere in between.
Very fitting for somewhere who struggles to decide.
Perhaps that is why I have grown so fond of aperitivo.
It does not try too hard.
It simply creates space for people to gather, snack a little, drink something cold and allow the evening to unfold slowly.
Simple and joyful.
So maybe tonight, make yourself a drink. Put out a bowl of olives or crisps. Share this piece of joy with your loved ones. Or simply sit outside for a little while as the day slowly comes to an end.
No rules required.
And perhaps, in some small way, this piece might inspire you to create a little moment of joy for yourself too.
Before you leave, you are invited to sign The Guestbook.
Further Reading
The Performance of Living Well - on slowing down, modern life and finding beauty in ordinary moments
Colours of Umbria - a visual journey through the changing colours, light and quiet beauty of Umbria
Spoleto unfolds slowly - an afternoon wandering through one of Umbria Umbria’s most quietly charming towns
Unless otherwise credited, all photography and written content are original works by Foodie Goes Travel.
