If you know Samuele Ambrosi, you know that precision isn’t a whim, it’s a religion. You see him order a caffè americano after lunch, regularly baffling the staff, and you immediately realize that for him, it’s either done right or it’s not worth doing at all. I have the privilege of knowing him for years and I call him “brontolo” in fact, he’s saved in my phone as BRONTOLO. I say this with the affection due to someone who never offers a compliment unless it’s been earned on the front lines. His isn’t mere complaining; it’s the allergic reaction of a professional who cannot stomach the mediocrity flattening the industry.
COMMON SENSE OVER EGO
At the Beer&Food Attraction, the evolution of the Mixology Circus represented much more than a thematic hub for Ambrosi: it was a necessary outpost to bring substance back to a world that seems to thrive only on digital reflections. For him, the only limit to creativity should be common sense:
“The only limit is common sense, simply because I find certain ego-driven excesses ridiculous. They risk severing that subtle but vital thread connecting us to our guest: the understanding of flavor.”
Integrating beer with high-end mixology isn’t a “stunt” for show; it’s a way to read the market. His vision is blunt: “Only this way will we respect both the one who pays us, THE CUSTOMER, and the one who hosts us, THE VENUE.” He aims to restore the bartender’s role as a professional capable of tackling real market challenges.
THE WAR AGAINST DIGITAL BOREDOM
There is an obsession with aesthetics that clearly grates on him. Today, many bars seem designed to be photographed, yet they lack actual content. Ambrosi calls it a war against “boredom an enemy fueled by marketing and destructive commercial policies.” It’s that hollow vacuum that hits guests when they grow tired of everything in three seconds because the soul is missing.
The bar must return to being a place to “take care of oneself,” a refuge built on smiles and expertise, not just lighting optimized for a smartphone. This “social disorder” has turned bar counters into mute stages:
“Bartenders don’t even leave their trenches anymore. When you finally manage to order a drink, you witness a technical execution worthy of a Reel… yet, alas, it’s often a silent one!”
Having come from an era where knowledge had to be “stolen” with your eyes, he views it as a tragedy that influencers are now confused with professionals, forgetting that the real goal is to exceed the expectations of the physical guest.
ORDER AS A MANAGEMENT TOOL
To manage the complexity of an international hub like Mixology Circus, Ambrosi applies an almost military logic: “I simply wanted to create some order. I believe order aids comprehension and makes the professional feel at ease.”
This structure manifested in three distinct directional areas: TIKI, LUXURY HOTEL, and HIP URBAN. This isn’t set dressing; it’s functional identity. Each area has a different approach to management, mixing, and hospitality. Defining these perimeters allows a manager to go home with real solutions rather than just selfies.
This method also applies to the new frontiers of taste, such as No & Low Alcohol. Samuele doesn’t see it as a fleeting trend, but as an inevitable necessity tied to road safety and health. However, he warns it is the bartender’s ultimate test.
- “Among the many qualities of alcohol is its structure—the strength through which it holds the balance of a drink,” he explains.
- “Personally, I find it much harder to create an alcohol-free drink than one with alcohol,” because removing the “skeleton” of a recipe while keeping it memorable requires a level of study that goes far beyond a simple garnish.
THE POP HORIZOM
While the restaurant industry is finally learning how to serve a decent Americano, unthinkable just a few years ago, Ambrosi is already looking ahead. He sees chefs returning to a more accessible, sincere palate and bets on a similar evolution for the bar:
“Today, after years of cross-contamination and experimentation, the kitchen is returning to a ‘POP’ sensibility with a genuine look at tradition. In a few years, you’ll see the bar follow the same path.”
This vision, captured in the halls of the Beer&Food Attraction, leaves us with a bitter doubt: are we ready to trade the instant gratification of a “like” for the hard work of a counter that truly knows how to host? Because while we’re busy worrying about the perfect framing, Samuele Ambrosi is already miles ahead, grumbling at a world running too fast to realize it’s serving silent drinks.
It remains to be seen if the next Americano we drink will taste like tradition or just look like a well-chosen filter. The gauntlet is thrown: less stage, more trenches. And if you don’t like it, go ahead and order a caffè americano. But be warned: Samuele will be watching.
