I will refrain from writing a long-winded critique on the state of modern bars, or hospitality for that matter, but a few words must be typed to illustrate our current situation. For me, going to a new bar can be a highly annoying experience. I’m a simple person who drinks simple classic cocktails, on which, unfortunately, every barman (the word ‘mixologist’ has happily been refuted by the industry’s best) has a twist. I find myself explaining why I don’t want wood cask aged gin in my Martini and pleading for a London dry gin. In recent years many bars have opened and many have closed; marketing is king and the gimmicks to attract customers are many. Fortunately, there is a beacon of hope; in every city you can still find a few establishments with a long history of good taste and elegant manners. Standing the test of time and not giving in to fads and trends, these places have become what I call institutions, that are not only important for our alcoholism but for our culture.

One of these is the Bar Basso, one of the most civilised establishments in Milan. Bar Basso was the birthplace of the Milanese aperitivo; one could say it brought the cocktail to Milan. What probably made it iconic was when the Sbagliato was invented there, by mistake but nonetheless it worked wonderfully. A negroni with prosecc instead of gin, Campari and red vermouth. It also serves a very good Bloody Mary, which is not a simple task—getting the right balance of condiments is an art. Besides drinking well, what attracts me is the atmosphere.

The Bar Basso is hot right now. But it has always been hot because its clientele are nice. There is a mix of young and old, fashionistas, artists and intellectuals. A wide variety of clients that have one thing in common: they are happy to be there. The only gimmick in the Bar Basso is its huge glasses in which the negroni is served. Everything else is what you would expect from an old-school bar that has hospitality at its heart. Being a regular there can be compared to being a member of a club: there are no fees to pay, you just have to belong. There is a sort of an exclusivity that is created naturally, it is a place for the understated with a bit of culture that doesn’t want to be part of the trashy Milanese ‘movida’.

Making it all just right at the centre is owner and ringmaster Maurizio Stochetto. The son of the founder and one of the sweetest and most pleasant people I have met. As I write about Maurizio, I smile. He makes me, and many others, smile. He is the soul of the Bar Basso and is loved by all who know him. As is his bar. Now I’m thirsty. Goodbye, I’m off. Vado al Basso.