Absinthe is back at the bar

Absinthe is served the traditional way at tayst, with water dripped over a sugar cube. (Credit: Samuel M. Simpkins)

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In the interest of full disclosure: No auditory appendages were severed in the making of this story.

Nor did any clocks melt, sounds become visible, or bar patrons grow extra heads.

Just mention the word "absinthe" and peoples' minds turn immediately to the urban legends they've heard about the spirit described as "the green fairy." It'll make you hallucinate. It'll send you into a murderous rage. It's illegal in the United States.

To which we say: false, false and, as of three years ago March 5, false.

The history of absinthe is as complex as the spirit itself. Originating in Switzerland as a distilled product of anise, fennel and absinthium wormwood, absinthe became extremely popular in France in the latter 19th/early 20th century, thanks to its popularity with the bohemian culture of the day.

A combination of big business (namely, French winemakers concerned with the spirit's increasing popularity) and bad science (the chemical thujone, which absinthe has in very small quantities, was falsely believed to cause epileptic attacks and hallucinations) caused absinthe to be banned in many countries in which it had become popular, including the U.S. in 1912.

(A much more detailed history of absinthe can be found here.)

When the U.S. ban on importing and distilling absinthe was lifted in 2007, adventurous bartenders and restaurateurs throughout the country jumped on the chance to add it to the recipes of classic cocktails they'd known about but couldn't serve without at least legal trepidation.

It's the uninformed beverage patron's mental trepidation that seems to slow them down when they see absinthe on a menu or a bottle along the wall. Most bartenders' advice? Relax and give it a try. "It's not like it's going to make you see crazy things, and you're not gonna kill your grandma," says James Hensley, assistant manager and self-described "drink-slinger" at Patterson House. "I mean, unless you're predisposed to see crazy things and kill your grandma."

Most modern versions of classic cocktails will use straight absinthe as a rinse on the edge of a glass to give a quick burst of the spirit's signature black licorice flavor. Two of Patterson House's most popular drinks - the classic gin-based Corpse Reviver No. 2 and its own bourbon-based concoction, Vincent's Ruin - feature the rinse treatment.

Away from the bustle of Midtown, tayst's Adrien Matthews puts his own spin on introducing patrons to absinthe with a classic version of a Cognac-and-bitters-based Sazerac. He also uses absinthe in place of tequila for a Bohemian Sunrise and as an extra kick in the Green Fairy Grasshopper, the flavor profile of which he describes as a "thin mint on steroids."

While absinthe's over-the-top effects are greatly exaggerated, the secondary effect is a different experience than a traditional beer-and-a-shot buzz.

"As somebody who doesn't really drink much and certainly doesn't like to be drunk, I find that it has the mild euphoria that comes with a good bit of tipsy, but it had a quality that was very different," Matthews says. He wanted to "test drive" the spirit before deciding whether to serve it at the restaurant.

"Everything became very clear, visually," he recalls. "My perception of shadows and light became very, very clear. I became extremely chatty and creative. It is a highly alcoholic beverage, so I was afraid I'd wake up the next morning and just feel like what I imagine Keith Richards goes through on a daily basis. But that didn't happen."

The truly closed-minded might find absinthe's most traditional serving a little too effeminate and lemminglike for their tastes, but the process of the purist pour is a fascinating ritual. It involves taking an ounce of the spirit, placing a sugar cube over a specially slotted spoon and slowly dripping up to five parts ice-cold water over the sugar into the absinthe, watching the product turn from clear or slightly green to milky white. (Anybody who tells you it should be lit on fire is dead wrong.)

The slow pour releases the signature licorice nose, easily detectable half a bar away, and the flavors change dramatically as the sugars mix and the temperature warms.

Absinthe tends to come in two variations - blanche (clear) and verte (slightly greenish in color) - but a Midstate company just getting started in the distillery world has created a rose absinthe as one of its core products.

Corsair Artisan Distillery has been selling RED absinthe, which is colored and slightly flavored with hibiscus, for about nine months, making it the only rose absinthe manufactured and distributed in the U.S.

"Our company got going about the same time the U.S. ban was lifted, so it was one of those things where we said we could make a little and people would come and want to know about it," says Andrew Webber, co-founder of Corsair, which is based in Nashville and has its current production facility in Bowling Green, Ky. (They'll soon be moving into Marathon Village.) "It's one of the most uncommon absinthes made in the world, so people have found use for our product, and it has its own uses in mixology.

"It's been a stronger product than we expected," Webber adds, citing traction for RED in cities such as Louisville, Ky., Atlanta and Seattle. "Mainly we made it because we could and it was fun."

So, next time you're feeling adventurous and looking for a new beverage experience, take the leap and give absinthe a spin. Reality will not morph uncontrollably around you.

Meanwhile, I gotta go. The translucent purple panda is telling her tale about trying to convince Stallone not to make the last three Rocky movies. I love that story.