absinthe_lineup_marteau_pernod_mata hari_tournment_kubler_lucid

Slowly, but surely, I’ve been collecting absinthes. Not always the most obscure of brands1 or styles2 , but certainly a fair representation of what’s found it’s way on the market since early last year when it became legal it was realized the 10ppm thujone restriction actually allowed for sale of many European products in the US. Contrary to popular belief, it was never specifically banned. But, I come here to praise absinthe, not to bury educate on it. If you have questions on absinthe’s production3 , hallucinogenic qualities4 , or deleterious effects5 I highly recommend the Wormwood Society’s FAQ section and forums, but watch your step in there, the world can be a harsh place.

The only things I really want to touch on, since most of these things are covered exhaustively elsewhere, are the traditional styles of absinthe and what I’ll be looking for in them in going through the tasting process. There are three primary styles of absinthe; blanche (white), verte (da green), and Czech.6 There is only one Czech-style absinthe that will be covered in this series, Mata Hari. The remainder will fall squarely in the blanche or verte categories with the primary difference being that a verte-style absinthe has an additional step after its distillation (when it’s a blanche) whereby an additional set of herbs are infused and, usually, end up being the source of coloration (i.e. green). This typically leads blanche absinthes to be more whole-heartedly committed to anise/wormwood flavor profiles and the vertes to have more herbaceous and “woodsy” elements vying for attention. These, of course, are broad generalizations that have, for the most part, held true in my tastings thus far. For more information on styles you can visit Chuck Taggart’s background piece on absinthe and New Orleans, this WIRED article on Absinthe’s resurgence, or this look at basic absinthe production at the Wormwood Society. Then, read on.

Tasting Process: I will be evaluating each of the absinthes in two ways, by making a traditional absinthe drip (3:1) and frappe’.

The Absinthe Drip gives the absinthe a way of explaining itself and revealing its inner nature. The absinthe drip, for me, is the therapist’s couch of drinks for absinthe whereby it reveals its deepest secrets and tells me what’s on its ever-cantankerous mind.

Absinthe Drip

  • 1oz absinthe7
  • 1 lump of sugar
  • 2-3oz chilled water

Place the absinthe in an old-fashioned or absinthe drip glass and a tea strainer or absinthe spoon on top of the glass. Place the sugar cube on the spoon or in the strainer and slowly drip 2-3oz of water over the cube and into the absinthe until, hopefully, most of the sugar is dissolved.

The Absinthe Frappe, on the other hand, occludes the absinthe’s inner child and looks to find out how well it plays with others. Yes, its constiuent parts are nearly identical to the Drip but the Anisette and shaking cause the absinthe to behave much differently and, essentially, reveal its mixability and complexity. Or, in the case of some, it’s insipidity8 .

Absinthe Frappe9

  • 1.5oz absinthe
  • .5oz simple syrup
  • 1t anisette

Place all ingredients in a mixing glass and shake heartily for 15 seconds. Pour all ingredients into an old-fashioned glass. I skip the water many recipes call for.

Now, what you likely came here for. Our first looks will be at La Fee Parisienne, Lucid, and Apsinthion, a Polish absinthe of neon sex.

La Fee Absinthe Parisienne:

la_fee_absinthe

La Fee Parisienne is one of the two neon-green absinthes in this round-up that hearken to when not-so-savory producers were putting out product that seemed to exist for the sole purpose of contributing to absinthe’s illicit appeal and the ill-founded prospect of its hallucinogenic qualities. Fortunately, despite this artificial coloring, La Fee does much better than all that.

Drip: In an Absinthe Drip this comes across with much less anise than most and presents a lot of herbaceous qualities and, of the three, comes across more complex. This is certainly the most vegetal and “woodsy” of the three and is pleasantly sippable. It louches very nicely and at 136-proof has a very light body. With this one, I definitely think upping the ratio of water-to-absinthe couldn’t hurt.

Frappe: Somehow, in the frappe, the herbal qualities are amplified (the word “nettles” kept coming to mind) but are still not as complex or playful as the Lucid. In both, La Fee comes across as fairly dry but not so much that the sugar or anisette need to be bumped up in any way.

Ultimately, I have to recommend this as a sipping absinthe that performs best when left to its own devices. The bitterness of the wormwood comes through and, for mixing, makes it limited in its application. It’s a pleasant surprise in a drip and a bit of an underperformer in the frappe. The labeling is lovely but, at the end of the day, it is not the best bargain for its quality. It’s not abysmal, by any means, but it’s also not bowl-me-over-wonderful.

Apsinthion:

apsinthion_absinthe

Apsinthion is one of those neon beasts that promotes itself as a high-thujone absinthe and seems to start at the point of wanting to attract exactly the wrong sort of drinker. It’s produced in Poland and there’s some dispute as to whether it’s actually distilled or an amalgamation of oils, neutral spirit, and other chemicals. Either way, I was curious how it would perform against the new vanguard of European absinthe products making their way into the U.S. market.

Drip: There is a lot of heat in a drip made with Apsinthion and it has a strong Good n’ Plenty character. This, essentially, is not a good thing. It’s mint-heavy, wormwood-weak, and overly-simple. It seems sugared and has an undefinable saccharin character that makes one want to move on, and quickly.

Frappe: In a frappe, the Apsinthion just makes you appreciate how much a quality absinthe brings tot he table. Apsinthion comes across as dry, unmelded, and with a certain uncomplicated toothpaste quality.

If you accidentally stumble on this product, skip it entirely. If you’re striving for a simple licorice flavor with little complexity, look for a pastis such as Pernod or Ricard and you’ll be much happier for it. If you’re looking for a simpler absinthe, well, you could still do better.

Lucid:

lucid_absinthe

Lucid, as you probably know, was one of the first true absinthes to bring absinthe back-to-market in the U.S. in 2008. It’s eye-catching bottle (har har) has turned some off as it doesn’t speak to the quality of the product or its origins. However, Lucid is distilled in France and seemingly tries to capture the traditional style of an absinthe verte. How well it actually performs, though, is another matter.

Drip: The first thing I notice about Lucid is how easily it louches and the oils precipitate once water is added. It has a lovely milky, almost violet, color that is mesmerizing and a joy to watch. However, once hitting the palate it has a heavily-bodied coating effect that produces a sort of numbing quality. This leaves the impression that the only thing Lucid has to offer is a black licorice character that leaves you wanting more…of….something more.

Frappe: However, in a frappe, Lucid practically sings. It was nearly impossible for me to pick apart all of the flavors dancing around but nearly all of them were pleasant. Joana and I both described this as “playful” with thoughts of tinkling piano keys invading our thoughts. The flavors that came to bear had more ruddish complexity than what it presented in the Drip, a most welcome development.

I highly recommend this as an absinthe to be used for mixing. it relies heavily on an broad anise flavor but still has something to bring to the party with a nice balance of dry and sweet. However, at the price, Kubler may be a better option if you’re buying an absinthe almost strictly for mixing. However, you could do far worse either way, just ask the Poles.

La Fee Parisienne Rating: ★★★☆☆

Apsinthion Rating: ★½☆☆☆

Lucid Rating: ★★★½☆

StumbleUpon It!
  1. interesting for the bottles and rarity alone [↩]
  2. just fucking shoot me in my face [↩]
  3. difficult [↩]
  4. a pack of hooey and lies [↩]
  5. much like zubrowka and the ban on coumarin, the thujone restriction is more about its damage to organs and tissue in high concentrations, like stupid-high concentrations [↩]
  6. there is also Hausgemacht – homemade – but we won’t be going there in this series for obvious reasons [↩]
  7. maybe a bit more if it’s a low-proof absinthe, i.e. less than 60% ABV [↩]
  8. yeah, there, I said it, “insipidity”…now get over it [↩]
  9. adapted from Paul Clarke’s recipe in seriouseats.com [↩]