When sundown spreads its hyacinth veil
Over Rastaquapolis
It’s surely time for an absinthe
Don’t you think, my son?
Five o’clock Absinthe-Raul Ponchon
I haven’t read an Ann Rice or Poppy Z. Brite book in dog's years, nor do I consider myself to be a Goth, or a vampire freak. These are things I relate to the consumption of Absinthe. But-its not always been that way. Absinthe is just another of the myriad of things that I find historically interesting. The actual history and how it has been perceived and been a part of history is more tempting to me than the actual elixir.
Over Rastaquapolis
It’s surely time for an absinthe
Don’t you think, my son?
Five o’clock Absinthe-Raul Ponchon
I haven’t read an Ann Rice or Poppy Z. Brite book in dog's years, nor do I consider myself to be a Goth, or a vampire freak. These are things I relate to the consumption of Absinthe. But-its not always been that way. Absinthe is just another of the myriad of things that I find historically interesting. The actual history and how it has been perceived and been a part of history is more tempting to me than the actual elixir.
The consumption of absinthe is more of a ritual experience than a simple drink. Served with the addition of sugar and cold water through a specially pierced silver spoon, its green color is quite lovely. All true absinthes are bitter to some degree (due to the presence of absinthin, extracted from wormwood). The classic French absinthe ritual involves placing a sugar cube on a flat perforated spoon, which rests on the rim of the glass containing a measure or “dose” of absinthe. Iced water is then very slowly dripped on to the sugar cube, which gradually dissolves and drips, along with the water, into the absinthe, causing the green liquor to louche (“loosh”) into an opaque opalescent white as the essential oils precipitate out of the alcoholic solution. Usually three to four parts water are added to one part of 68% absinthe.
Historically, true absintheurs used to take great care in adding the water, letting it fall drop by single drop onto the sugar cube, and then watching each individual drip cut a milky swathe through the peridot-green absinthe below. Seeing the drink gradually change color was part of its ritualistic attraction. No other drink is traditionally consumed with such a carefully calibrated kind of ceremony. It’s part of what lends absinthe its drug-like allure (for instance, one talks about the dose of absinthe in the glass, a term you’d never use with whisky or brandy).
From all historical evidence, it seems that absinthe was almost always drunk like this – even the poorest working man, in the roughest bar or café, would prepare his absinthe slowly and carefully. It was seldom drunk neat (except by the kind of desperate end-stage alcoholics who were also drinking ether or cologne); the water was always added slowly not just sloshed in; ice was never added to the glass. The water added to the absinthe dose must always be iced, as cold as possible.
The origins of absinthe lie in Val-de-Travers, Switzerland where it was first concocted as an elixir/tincture to cure what ailed you. It took off with the smart set in Paris in the early 19th and 20th century and made its way to America among the artists and writers whose romantic associations still linger in today’s popular culture. So popular was it that lawmakers portrayed it as a dangerously addictive, psychoactive drug; the chemical thuione blamed for the most deleterious effects. Courts throughout the world ached to find a reason to ban the stuff and in 1906 a Swiss laborer gave them all the reason they needed.
During lunch on August 28, 1905, Jean Lanfray consumed five litres of wine, six glasses of cognac, one coffee laced with brandy, two crème de menthe, and two glasses of absinthe after eating a sandwich. Surprise, surprise-he returned home extremely drunk and angry, and drank another coffee with brandy. He then asked his wife to polish his shoes for him. When she refused, Lanfray retrieved a rifle and shot her once in the head, killing her instantly. His two children heard the noise and ran into the room, where Lanfray shot and killed both of them as well. He then shot himself in the head. He was discovered the next day by police after gunfire was reported from Lanfray’s house. Lanfray, still conscious, was discovered hunched over the bodies of his wife and children. After being taken to a hospital, Lanfray eventually recovered and was convicted of murder and sentenced to a life sentence. This was exactly what lawmakers had been looking for- never mind that he’d drunk up nearly all the other spirits in the village. The Lanfray case received an astonishing amount of coverage, especially by the temperance movement. Swiss law decided in March of 1906 that absinthe was to blame for the outrage, and passed a bill outlawing it, which trickled to every other European country (sans England and Spain) and the United States by 1915.
Flash to and astonishing nearly eighty years later, as countries in the EU have began to reauthorize manufacture and sale of the lovely liquor. Recently, two new brands have come onto the market in the U.S.-though they are only available in New England. On my next trip north I’m going to pick up a bottle of Lucid so I can meet the green fairy and judge all the falderal for myself.
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