One of the quiet joys of traveling with a Negroni obsession is seeing what happens when you stop ordering from a menu and start a conversation with the bar.

At BKLYN Bar in Willemstad, Curaçao, that conversation led somewhere special.

Over dinner, I mentioned my long-running project, 100 Negronis, a blog devoted to the endless ways this deceptively simple cocktail reveals personality, place, and philosophy. Martin van Ast, the owner, smiled, paused for a beat, and said something along the lines of: “Let me make you one.”

What arrived was What arrived was familiar and surprising at once:

Made with Made with… Bobby’s Schiedam Jenever Gin, of course from Netherlands, a very special Vermouth Perucchi Gran Reserva, that Martin discovered on a trip to Spain and to keep to some tradition Campari.

So far, so classic—at least in spirit. But then Martin took it somewhere else entirely. Instead of a stirred, spirit-forward format, he built it as a sour, incorporating egg white for texture and lift. The drink was shaken into a soft, silken foam, creamy without being heavy, structured yet playful. For aroma and theater, he added, a smoked thyme stem, still gently perfuming the glass, and a burnt orange, expressing oils and a whisper of caramelized bitterness

The result was a Negroni that felt both Brooklyn-bold and Curaçao-relaxed. Wonderfully unique and delicious with classic roots.

The Jenever brought a malty, almost whisper-of-grain backbone—earthy and quietly assertive. Perucchi Gran Reserva added depth and roundness, its oxidative notes playing beautifully with the smoke. Campari, ever the anchor, kept everything honest.

The egg white didn’t soften the drink—it clarified it, smoothing the edges and letting the aromatics linger longer. The thyme essence hovered just above the glass, while the burnt orange tied bitterness and sweetness together in one last, elegant note.

This wasn’t a Negroni trying to be clever. It was a Negroni that knew exactly what it was doing. What made this drink memorable wasn’t just technique—it was intention. Martin didn’t ask what I usually like. He listened, interpreted, and created something that honored the Negroni tradition while bending it just enough to reflect his bar, his palate, and the place we were in. That, to me, is the heart of the Negroni journey.

This one—smoky, silky, quietly confident—belongs firmly in the Curaçao chapter of 100 Negronis.

I would be remiss if I did not mention that our dinner there was quite exceptional as well. If your are in Curacao I strongly recommend BKLYN Gastrobar, Curacao