Absinthe: Liquor's Version of More Cowbell

During our exciting 4th of July getaway to the cabin, we stopped in at the general store. The one that had THAT poster out front. The store is tiny but always carries a mind-boggling collection of booze. I don't know if people that live in the sticks cultivate a seasoned palate for liquor because there is nothing better to do, or if there is just one inquisitive guy who happens to be the supplier. Whatever the case, it is always a cornucopia of weird bottles of alcohol we attempt to talk ourselves out of trying. So on this last trip I see a bottle of absinthe. The following discussion ensues:

Me: Wow, I can't believe they have absinthe up here!

H: What's absinthe and why is it strange it would be up here?

Me: Absinthe! You remember, La Boheme? Moulin Rouge? The green fairy? It's been banned in America for a million years (okay, turns out only since 1912) because it caused people to hallucinate and lose their minds or something.

H: Fucking awesome, lets buy a bottle when we get back home.

Cut to next day, back in town, can't find absinthe ... anywhere. Upon googling, I discover a hysterical blog review of different absinthes at the Laist and a society devoted just to absinthe and drinking it. I also learn that there is no legal definition for absinthe. You can pour vodka in a bottle, mix in some green food coloring, and call it absinthe. Turns out the absinthe at the cabin was this variety. It's not like gin or whiskey where it has to meet some qualifications. So now not only do we want absinthe, but we want moderately not sucky absinthe, and there isn't a bottle to be had anywhere. Finally I found a Bevmo that was only 30 minutes away that had some decent absinthe. Praise God we were gonna get to hallucinate!

St. George is a well-rated brand of absinthe, among 'experts.' The average joe doesn't necessarily like the taste of it but guess what, absinthe is an acquired taste, punks. Who would have a tasting party for absinthe, invite a bunch of absinthe virgins and then tally their votes? I'm only interested in whether it tastes similar to what unwashed philosophers 100 years ago were drinking, not whether it goes well with my smoked salmon or is something nice to sip while I blog. So I completely dismissed the 'popular' vote (how unbohemian of me!) and went with what the experts liked.

The St. George bottle is perfection. The label features a monkey banging on a cowbell with what appears to be a bone. Sound strange? Just great marketing? Ominous portent of what is in store for you once you crack that motha open? Whatever it is, it looks great.



Interesting absinthe fact: You can drink it straight, if you are INSANE. It is 60% alcohol, or 120 proof, and it tastes strongly (I can't emphasize this strongly enough) of anise, or black licorice. Black licorice and lighter fluid. If you like that sort of thing, be my guest and have a shot. If not, read further. In the picture below is the entire amount we diluted with water to make the finished drink, 1 single ounce shot.



The most common way to drink it is to dissolve sugar cubes into it by pouring cold water over them and into the glass. They make slotted spoons specifically designed to hold the sugar over the glass that are quite beautiful. The clear absinthe turns milky and becomes somewhat less lighter fluidy. Even with several sugar cubes (okay, 7) and a lot of water, I could barely get down a sip. My husband, however, discovered that mixing in something acidic like lemon juice or lemon water, really cuts the licorice taste and makes it quite palatable (his descriptive, not mine).



if you really want to try absinthe, another suggestion would be to start with something easier and then switch to absinthe once you are a bit loosened up. It might taste better. Oh and I never saw my perky green fairy. Where the hell is my god-damn Kylie Minogue I was promised?! Also, sadly, I didn't suddenly become artistically profound yet simultaneously indignant re: the bourgeoisie.