Absinthe--a powerful wormwood liquor banned in 1915--is making a brave comeback. And, in the opinion of this author, for very good reason.
I got my first bottle in 2003 in Prague (where it did remain legal all these years) and had almost run out before I started to see how different it was from regular alcohol. Now I celebrate that difference a few times a week -- thanks to internet delivery and occasional trips to Canada.
First and foremost, absinthe is booze. At 140-proof, the alcohol component seems like more than enough to handle. Once you're used to absinthe, though, a good snoot-full (3-4 ounces heavily diluted with water) will have you feeling tingly all over. Rather than dulling the senses as regular alcohol does, absinthe usually heightens creativity, brings a pleasant euphoria, and a full-body buzz.
It was featured in the December 2005 issue of Wired Magazine, followed by a major article in The New Yorker, Spring 2006, describing modern day scientific efforts at recreating the old original recipies.
The Taste: Like shit. Bitter licorice, with various hints of herbs and pine.
The Buzz: Tingly. Full-body. An all-over buzz that feels a bit like being on nitrous oxide. Instead of feeling silly or giggly, however, I find I usually feel sharp, happy and clever. Not all the ideas that come to me are completely ridiculous the next morning. And please: don't end your days on Earth without first having made love while on absinthe.
Spoons, Sugar And Flames: To sweeten the taste, sugar is often added. Elegant slotted spoons hold a sugar cube atop a glass with about an inch of absinthe waiting below; cold water is poured over the cube, melting it, and when you've diluted the absinthe by at least 2/3rds, stir it up and sip away. ("Dip your pretty little beakie!") The sugar can be skipped when you get used to the flavors. I haven't used sugar in ages. Real men rarely use sugar. Burning off the alcohol (with or without a sugarcube) to leave only wormwood in the drink, hasn't been correctly executed since the days of steam engines and laudenum injections. You're on your own there.
The Hangover: Ah. That. Depends on how much you've had, of course, but an absinthe hangover will leave you feeling foggy and confused the next day. With an unfortunate tweaky jitteriness.
Pee: Absinthe. Makes you. A lot.
Cursory History: It was often characterized as the French national drink up until the 1915 ban. It was wildly popular in the late-1800s, often drunk as a before-dinner drink but held by artists and writers to be a good muse any time of day. The English remained horrified at the entire concept but in fact never banned it: it's been available in England all along.
Absinthe is an alcoholic distillation of herbs, including wormwood (thujone), anise and hyssop. The properties of this combination of herbs are not all that well understood even today. Its reputation as an hallucinogen is false; it was abused by a few notables, such as Paul Degas and Vincent Van Gogh. As such it gathered a great deal of attention as a potential problem. But rather than do further study, as we might find today, absinthe was banned in a years-long trend of abstinence and prohibition in Europe at the outbreak of the First World War. Some say it was scapegoated so that the spirits industries of Europe could survive the prohibitionists.
Absente (note the difference in spelling) contains no wormwood, and therefore is simply an alcohol without the frills. Yet it's available in the United States and will taste just like the real thing. It's a great way to get a feel for the strong and bitter flavors one must brave should genuine absinthe come your way.
The Czechs kept with the absinthe tradition all along, never having held with the French and Swiss need for prohibition leading to the 1915 ban. Their products seem to have a similar quality among themselves: a clear green liquid, very high alcohol content (usually 140 proof) and very medicinal flavor. Those who are overly snooty like to refer to Czech absinthe as "Windex". Yet they have some of the most readily available brands for sale. I've found Hill's for sale throughout Canada for about $88 CDN. The two Czech absinthes I've spent time with are Hill's (their leading absinthe export, of which they are inordinately proud) and Fruko Schulz. Both are similar, although the Schulz label is breathtaking--the bottle to the left in the above photograph.
Learn this word: "louche" (pronounced loosh). It's French. It refers so how absinthe clouds when water is added. Czech absinthes don't louche at all, which may sound like a good thing but in fact is rather boring. We like a little louche. And so do you. Nod your head when asked about louche.
Absento. There's always been a leeeeetle place in Spanish culture for absinthe. It remained legal there, and is still readily available. The Spanish absento comes much closer to the real, woodsy tastes of traditional absinthe than do those of Czech. The brand I've had so far is called Absinthe NS. The flavor is strong and pleasant. It louches well, and you can detect pine and herbal tastes. I ordered it online from a Spanish website called The Fine Spirits Corner. I've ordered from them. Products have arrived, and I have not gone to jail. They carry absento from other countries as well.
Here's where the plot thickens. The French are no longer legally producing absinthe. But the best stuff around is now available from an English company called Liqueurs De France. They are reproducing absinthe according to (they claim) authentic French recipies. I've had several. They're expensive; they're amazing. The service from Liqueurs De France is excellent, sending to the United States via courier for a small fee. Small. Fee. I continue to order from them when my wallet will allow; be ready to put up at least $130 USD to get a bottle of something delivered to your house.
Nouvelle Orleans, Verte de Fougerolles, Un Emile: these are the absinthes I have ordered and tried from them. All fabulous. The Nouvelle Orleans seems to be their most prestigious absinthe at $100 USD per bottle plus shipping. It seems very good.
When faced with a chance to sample Mata Hari Absinthe, run away. Very fast. I don't know what's wrong with it, but it tastes awful. I used some to scrub my bathtub, and for that it seemed alright. There's so much out there that you can skip this one; the art nouveau label, however, looks good.
You gotta have drama. Logan Fils is sold out of Long Island, NY. I almost ordered some, then, upon Googling, found very exciting details on the internet. Apparently it's not well received among absinthe enthusiasts; yet, when anyone gives an unfavorable review, they get threatened with lawsuits. If you ever have some I'd love to hear what you think.
Know that I am but a babe-in arms when it comes to discussing absinthe. The greatest absinthe site in the world is available at www.feeverte.net. I worship them.
more soon....