Ghia Berry Review: A Brand-New and Delicious Non-Alcoholic ... - Food & Wine

As someone who often prefers a spritz over a stiff cocktail, it’s not exactly surprising that on nights when I’m not drinking, I gravitate towards nonalcoholic aperitifs like Ghia. You’ve probably seen the slightly floral, bittersweet riff on Campari on Instagram or on the menu at spots like New York City’s Pasquale Jones and Champer’s Social Club, and while the original bottle will always be in my rotation to sip on the rocks or top with a bit of seltzer, the brand just launched its second iteration on its signature aperitif, and I’m convinced that it will carry me through the rest of this winter — even the gloomy, post-holiday months.

Ghia Berry

Ghia

At first sip, I was surprised by how much Ghia Berry reminded me of a specific iced tea I drank in Istanbul during the summers I spent there while growing up. It’s pleasantly tannic, warming, and a little sweet, with a slight caramelized basil flavor on the finish. Topped with a few splashes of nonalcoholic sparkling wine (my favorite, in case you’re wondering, is French Bloom) or verjus, it makes for a nostalgic, nonalcoholic cocktail that embodies the best produce of summer.

And this was the intent: “We realized that one of the flavors that was missing from non-alcoholic drinks was tannins,” says founder Mélanie Masarin. “We discussed how we could achieve that mouthfeel, so we started working with currants. I love the memories of my grandmother making Kir Royale by adding créme de cassis to her Champagne.” Masarin and her team realized a blackberry-flavored drink didn’t quite offer the excitement and newness they were looking for with the next Ghia, so they started playing around with more of a basil and strawberry base, with a fermented white tea to add depth. “I'm proud that Berry can be a nice pairing to both light and more dense dishes, so I'm excited to have this drink that can be a break from a heavier meal in the winter,” she adds.

So far, I’ve enjoyed Berry as an aperitif served neat alongside a slice of olive oil cake, my favorite no-fuss dinner party dessert. In a spritz, I’ve found that Berry acts as a much-needed sweet counterpart to an otherwise ho-hum salad situation, especially if there’s radicchio and peppery arugula involved. Will Berry be a match for boeuf bourguignon? Will it complement mashed potatoes or sweet potato pie? I intend to find out.

“I think that if someone already has the original then they will really love the Berry,” Masarin says. If the rapid progress I’ve made on my first bottle is any indication, she’s on to something here.

At the time of publishing, the price was $38.

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