Italian · Cocktail
One part gin, one part Campari, one part sweet vermouth. Nothing to measure badly, nothing to shake. It is bitter, and that is the point, which is why it belongs before dinner rather than after.

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The one thing that matters
Keep the vermouth in the fridge once it is open. It is wine, and it goes off in a couple of weeks on a warm shelf.
Give it three attempts. Somewhere in there it stops tasting like medicine and starts tasting like the only thing you want before dinner. Almost everyone who drinks Negronis disliked the first one.
It was supposedly invented in Florence in 1919 when a Count Negroni asked for his Americano made stronger, with gin instead of soda. Whether that's true or not, the one-to-one-to-one is what made it survive.
Stir, never shake. A drink made entirely of spirit goes cloudy and thin when shaken, and you can see it as well as taste it. Thirty seconds in a mixing glass with plenty of ice.
The vermouth is not filler and it's where most Negronis fail. It's wine, so it oxidises. Keep the bottle in the fridge once it's open and throw it out after a month. A Negroni made with vermouth that's been in a warm cupboard since spring tastes stale and nobody ever works out why.
Swap the gin for bourbon and it's a Boulevardier, which is rounder and better in winter. Swap it for Prosecco and soda and it's an Americano, which is lighter and better at lunch.
Orange peel over the top, squeezed so the oil lands on the surface. Serve it with something salty and fatty. It's designed to cut through exactly that.