The Negroni: a gaz regan notion
I’m really happy with this new book in its splendiferous colorful state, and beautifully designed by the wondrous Anistatia Miller of Mixellany, Ltd. There’s a little surprise within these pages that you’ll not see in the table of contents, but if you turn to page 156 you’ll not only hear my true thoughts about a certain David Wondrich, you’ll also find a first-hand account of an American newspaperman meeting the one and only Count Camillo Negroni in Italy, circa 1928. Thank you, Mister Wondrich. Here’s a teaser:
“I went out to the Rockies in the late ‘80s and fell in love with the country. I learned enough about stud, keno and faro to get broke and stay that way. Punching horses suited me to death and I went adventuring over the ranges.” [Count Negroni’s] colloquial English was shot with a strong Italian accent, though he nursed his glass like an old-time broncho buster—with the entire right hand.