Ninety per cent of the drinks I order at cocktail bars are Negronis. The holy trinity of gin, Campari, and sweet vermouth possess a near cosmic, peanut butter and jelly-esque affinity for each other that renders their combination almost error proof. Too much gin? Still pretty good. Super shitty ice? Whatever. Totally inept execution? Nobody cares. The worst Negroni at an ok bar is still better than 90% of Martinis out there. Barring vermouth negligence, a Negroni is basically impossible to mess up.