Seven Historic Bars for Vermouth in Turin

There is no better place to begin than beneath the shimmering iron-and-glass vault of the Galleria Subalpina, a few steps from Casa Vermouth. Baratti & Milano has been a symbol of Turin's elegance since 1875 — an intersection of artistry, literature, confectionery mastery, and the quiet ritual of the Piedmontese café.

When Ferdinando Baratti and Edoardo Milano opened their boutique, Turin was a city alive with intellectual energy. Their polished counters, mirrored walls, and impeccable service made it the preferred refuge of the Savoy aristocracy and the creative elite. By the early 1900s, the café had entered the pages of Italian literature: Gozzano immortalised it in Le Golose, and through the twentieth century, Pavese, D'Azeglio, Einaudi, Duse, and even Nietzsche crossed its marble threshold.

In 1911, during the great International Exhibition, architect Casanova and sculptor Rubino added the Art Nouveau touch that still defines the room: yellow-and-green marble inlays, dark mahogany panels, ornate glasswork. These details survived wars, restorations, and a century of footfall; today they are protected by the Ministry of Cultural Heritage.

Beyond the café, Baratti built the foundations of a confectionery empire — the Barattina, the Classica, the gianduiotti, the cremini. Casa Vermouth offers Baratti & Milano gianduiotti as a quiet homage to that legacy.

"A journey through time in a glass." — how the house describes its own vermouth tradition.

Vermouth here is treated not as a trend but as a cultural artifact. The Piedmontese style is honoured throughout: measured sweetness, botanical harmony, and a gentle elegance that matches the ambiance.

If Baratti & Milano represents the luminous soul of Turin, Mulassano captures its most intimate heartbeat. Hidden beneath the porticoes of Piazza Castello, just steps from the birthplace of Vermouth Carpano, it is a single room overflowing with history, invention, and cinematic charm.

The story begins in the late 19th century with Amilcare Mulassano, who managed the celebrated Distilleria Sacco. In 1907, seeking a more central setting, he moved the business to Piazza Castello — a location it has never left. Polished brass, mirrored walls, and small marble tables made it an instant favourite of intellectuals, actors, and aristocrats.

In the 1920s, the destiny of the café shifted entirely. Angela Nebiolo had grown up in Turin but, at fifteen, was married off to Detroit, where her husband Onorino's family ran nightlife venues. In 1925 they returned to Italy with two children and a dream — and the Mulassano family chose that exact moment to sell their precious jewel for 300,000 lire.

Looking to revive the café's fortunes, Angela and Onorino brought from Detroit something Turin had never seen: a machine for toasting bread. Inspired by the softness of that American-style loaf, Onorino conceived something revolutionary — soft, crustless triangles filled with savoury spreads, served alongside vermouth at aperitivo. A few years later, Gabriele D'Annunzio would give the invention its name: tramezzino. A bronze plaque inside the café still commemorates Angela's creation.

Mulassano is not only historic, it is exquisite. The work was overseen by engineer Antonio Vandone: boiseries of carved and gilded wood, a kaleidoscope of marble (rouge du Var, onyx from Numidia and Piedmont, verde delle Alpi, rosso di Francia, giallo Imperiale), a coffered ceiling in Madera leather, and a marble-and-bronze fountain on the counter for the traditional sip of water before coffee.

For decades it was the habitual place of the Royal House and the artists of the nearby Teatro Regio. Among them was the comedian Erminio Macario, who would sit by the window every afternoon with a vermouth, sketching the parade passing under the arcades.

Caffè Elena is Turin's literary heart — a place where generations of writers, students, and artists have paused for inspiration, conversation, or a quiet, contemplative vermouth. Situated under the grand porticoes of Piazza Vittorio Veneto, the café has been a cultural landmark for over a century. To step inside is to cross a subtle threshold into the Turin of the early 1900s.

The interiors remain remarkably unchanged: original boiseries in dark, warm woods; large mirrors; red breccia marble tables; paintings by G.M. Bertagna whose colours echo the café's quiet, nostalgic character. It is a place that invites lingering — the kind of lingering that leads to ideas.

Among the many figures who frequented Caffè Elena, one stands above all: Cesare Pavese. The novelist, poet, and critic often sought refuge here, finding silence and inspiration within its rooms. To sit at one of Elena's small marble tables is to feel a faint echo of his presence — a fragment of that subtle melancholy that runs through his writing.

The café's vermouth credentials, however, go deeper than literary association. Between 1889 and 1902, Giuseppe Carpano — heir to the dynasty that created Vermouth di Torino — perfected new recipes inside these walls. The café was, in effect, a laboratory of liquid alchemy, where botanicals, herbs, and wines were tested to refine the flavour that would later cross national borders.

The legacy continues. For its 135th anniversary, Caffè Elena launched an artisan Vermouth Rosso, available in exclusive selection at Casa Vermouth. Its profile is beautifully layered: classic Piedmontese botanicals, notes of cardamom, ginger, and saffron, the delicate floral touch of acacia, and a round, enveloping texture designed for both sipping and mixing.

Of all the stops on the itinerary, Peliti's is the one that feels most like stepping into a novel. Its story moves from the quiet towns of Piedmont to the courts of British India, from cavalry regiments to grand colonial hotels, from gilded banquets to Rudyard Kipling's tales. No other vermouth house in Turin carries such a sweeping, cinematic history.

Federico Peliti was no ordinary confectioner. He was a sculptor trained under Vincenzo Vela, a photographer, an entrepreneur, and a man of curiosity. Born in Carignano near Turin, he graduated from the Accademia di Belle Arti di Torino in 1865, only to enlist soon after in the Nizza Cavalleria during the Third War of Italian Independence. When he won a confectionery competition in Turin in 1869, he made the decision that would define his life: he sailed for India.

In India, Peliti became the caterer to Lord Mayo, Viceroy of India, establishing his own shop in Calcutta, later expanding into a sumptuous location on Esplanade East. Under his gilded ceilings, guests sipped his vermouth, admired his sculptural cakes, and exchanged news of the Empire. Kipling himself described the place in one of his tales:

"I tumbled off my horse and dashed, half fainting, into Peliti's for a glass of cherry brandy. There two or three couples were gathered round the coffee-tables discussing the gossip of the day."

Peliti's vermouth became renowned across India and Europe. In 1877 it was produced for the Prince of Wales, Edward VII, and earned gold medals at international exhibitions in Turin, Paris, and Calcutta. Its secret was a blend that echoed Peliti's dual world: Muscat passito, Indian spices, Piedmontese flowers, bitter absinth and quassia, citrus and elder — a delicate tension between sweetness and bitterness.

After the Second World War, the name faded. The villa crumbled, the hotels changed hands, the recipes slipped into silence. A century later, thanks to the rediscovery of Peliti's original recipe books, the brand has been reborn — and today offers two faithful expressions, available even from the barrel.

Barney's is the stop that feels like entering a story. Not just because it sits inside a historic palace, or because its rooms are lined with books and portraits, but because Barney's is literally embedded within the Circolo dei Lettori — Turin's home of words, readers, and all those who find refuge in stories. Located in Via Bogino 9, inside the majestic Palazzo Graneri della Roccia, it offers a Vermouth experience set against the backdrop of one of the city's most important literary institutions.

Visiting Barney's is an experience that begins even before the first glass is poured. You enter the palazzo, follow a soft red carpet through the portico, then — like a whispered password — dial 1115 + the doorbell. A discreet click opens the heavy door. Climb to the first floor. Barney's sits at the crossroads between public space and private club, accessible yet tucked away enough to feel like a privilege.

Once inside, you are greeted by elegantly restored 18th-century rooms: high ceilings framed by delicate stuccoes, soft light filtering through tall windows, wooden floors that creak softly under the weight of centuries, bookshelves and portraits celebrating Italy's literary tradition. The main salon is one of the most atmospheric halls in the entire city — cultured, refined, quietly alive with ideas.

Barney's is not only a literary destination; it is a versatile, beautifully curated place for breakfasts under frescoed ceilings, lunches of modern Piedmontese cuisine, smart-working afternoons immersed in the gentle hum of pages turning, aperitivi paired with Vermouth di Torino, Saturday brunch, or simply a pause of flavour and quiet in the heart of Turin.

It is one of the few places where you can sip vermouth surrounded not just by history, but by words.

Few places embody the spirit of Turin as powerfully as Bar Cavour. Set within the storied walls of Ristorante del Cambio — a place where Camillo Benso di Cavour himself would sit, dine, and shape the early destiny of unified Italy — Bar Cavour stands at the crossroads of history and contemporary refinement.

Del Cambio opened in 1757, long before Italy existed as a nation. Cavour frequented it so often that his table is still preserved. To enter Bar Cavour inside this institution is to walk through the same threshold that saw ministers, diplomats, artists, and aristocrats cross before you. Yet once you descend into the lounge, the aesthetic shifts: the atmosphere tightens, dims, becomes intimate and cinematic, without ever losing the quiet dignity of the palace above.

Bar Cavour is a triumph of contemporary design rooted in timeless elegance — black boiseries, petrol-blue walls, velvet sofas, leather chairs, black mirrored tables that reflect the golden leaf-pattern vault designed by Arturo Herrera. The effect is magnetic: a blend of 19th-century smoking room and Parisian salon, infused with the cosmopolitan charisma of an American bar.

Different spaces add to the experience. La Stanza Verde, a secluded chamber perfect for hushed conversations. The Bronstein Room, where a striking ink work by Pablo Bronstein becomes part of the theatrical aura. And the Secret Garden, an unusual summer and flowering version of the bar set in the enchanting frame of Piazza Carignano.

Bar Cavour is more than a lounge — it is a cultural venue. Sunday jazz, guest mixologists, wine and vermouth tastings, weekend DJ sets that blend elegance with nocturnal energy. Its versatility makes it a coveted site for private celebrations, from full privatisations to bespoke aperitivi and multi-course dinners.

The final stop brings the itinerary back to where it began: the luminous Galleria Subalpina, just steps from Casa Vermouth. Here, beneath arches of iron, glass, and 19th-century elegance, Dispensa represents the new voice of Turin's drinking and dining culture — fresh, modern, curious, and deeply rooted in quality.

If the journey began with the splendour of Baratti & Milano and travelled through cafés, salons, and storied lounges, Dispensa is the bright, surprising finale: a place where you can sip vermouth while looking directly into the historic gallery, surrounded by shelves filled with thousands of bottles. It is here that the circle closes.

In 2023, Compagnia dei Caraibi — one of Turin's leading players in high-quality beverage import and distribution — acquired the innovative wine & spirits project known as Dispensa. The goal was to speak directly to the final consumer, opening a new way of experiencing wine, spirits, and gastronomic culture. The result is an Enoteca 2.0: blue-and-gold walls, bottle-lined alcoves, contemporary design — a pop of colour and energy that refreshes the graceful classicism of the gallery without ever disrupting its elegance.

Dispensa is part wine shop, part spirits boutique, part gastronomy counter, and fully a place of discovery. On the ground floor: a vast and continuously evolving selection of natural and biodynamic wines, artisanal vermouths and rare spirits, magazines and books for enthusiasts, limited-edition bottles, and a range of ready-to-eat dishes — lasagne, parmigiana, vitello tonnato, polpette.

Climb the staircase and Dispensa changes face. The gastronomia becomes a full kitchen; the enoteca becomes a cocktail bar. At the stove is Christian Costardi and his brigade — a name that needs no introduction in Turin. His cuisine is simple, soulful, and deeply rooted in Piedmontese tradition. The spaces that once hosted art are now informal alcoves: cosy corners where you can sit and sip a perfectly made vermouth.

Dispensa becomes a real dispensa. Wines, spirits, cocktails, and food — just like in every home.