Absinthe: History in the Glass

First, pour about an inch of the translucent green liquid into a glass like a small garden trowel, with holes in it–on the glass, set a sugar cube on top of the spoon, and slowly drizzle water over the sugar cube, so that it dissolves and drips into the liqueur, which turns cloudy as its essential oils precipitate into the water. Take a long draught, sit back, and savor history: This is absinthe, a legendary liqueur that has been illegal throughout most of the world for nearly a century.

Yet today, absinthe parties are held from Greenwich Village to San Francisco, from New Orleans to the Nevada desert, where Burning Man–a temporary community that blooms each August and culminates in the burning of the Man on the Saturday night before Labor Day– has featured absinthe bars for several years running.

The absinthe might be a homemade approximation of the real thing, as it is at Burning Man. It may come from Europe, where it is increasingly available, or from Japan, where Hermes brand can be purchased in almost any liquor store. We buy it over the Internet or walk it through customs, nestled in a suitcase or slipped among the two dozen bottles of wine each US citizen is allowed after a visit abroad. Some aficionados guard against confiscation by filling empty wine bottles with absinthe, but most simply stroll past the customs agent, unaware that it is illegal to make, sell, or import absinthe in the United States. You can think of absinthe as you do Cuban cigars; it’s not illegal to possess them, even though you have to break the law to get them.



But What is Absinthe, Exactly, and Why Can’t I Have Any?

Absinthe is an alcoholic beverage, made by grinding and distilling the flower tips of artemisia absinthium, or wormwood, with other aromatics, including fennel, anise, hyssop, angelica root, dittany, and lemon balm. It tastes subtlety of licorice and of mint, and can be quite bitter, depending on the recipe. Over the centuries absinthe has been hailed as an aphrodisiac, an aid to digestion, a painkiller, an antidote to hemlock, and a cure for worms. It has been condemned as hallucinogenic and addictive, and said to cause nerve damage and brain lesions, a reputation that continues today.

The absinthe of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries was about 136 proof, or 68 percent alcohol, but it is tujone, the active ingredient in wormwood, that usually is considered the troublesome element. In large quantities, tujone is toxic, but so are many commonly used culinary herbs, including anise, hyssop, and nutmeg; according to one study, a 150-pound man would have to drink 50 absinthe cocktails, a virtual impossibility, to ingest enough to even approach the threshold of toxicity. Tujone’s molecular structure is remarkably similar to that of THC, the psychoactive chemical in marijuana; clinical studies in the 1970s document similar effects between the two. The United States Department of Agriculture forbids the use of wormwood in foods and beverages, though vermouth contains a small amount.

Although the rampant overindulgence in absinthe pervasive in France in the decades before its prohibition led to all of the problems associated with alcoholism, it was absinthe itself, not other alcoholic beverages, that took the blame and the fall. Absinthe was increasingly demonized by forces similar to those that eventually succeeded in banning all alcohol in the United States. Absinthe was banned in Belgium in 1905, in Switzerland in 1907, and Holland in 1910. In 1912, the United States declared in illegal. In France, the ban on absinthe took effect on March 16, 1915.



History and Romance in a Bottle

“What the heck is absinthe?” Barnaby Conrad III said to himself as an image of Degas’s Absinthe Drinker appeared before him during a slide presentation in an art history class at Yale, where he was awarded a bachelor’s degree in 1975. As so many others before and since have done, Conrad discovered the mystique and allure of absinthe, La Fée Verte, the Green Fairy, the Green Muse, through the art and literature that celebrated it, and in some cases, evoked its dangers.

Indeed, any study of absinthe leads inevitably to the great painters, poets, and writers of the ninteenth century, to the Impressionists, the Symbolists, and the slowly blossoming community of modernists. French poets, from Charles Baudelaire and Guillaume Apollinaire to Paul Verlaine and Arthur Rimbaud indulged with both gusto and regret, sensibilities documented in their verse. Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, Vincent Van Gogh, Adolphe Monticelli, Edouard Manet, and Paul Gauguin all celebrated absinthe in both their personal lives and their art. Picasso explored the enticing elixir through several periods of his art, including in a sculpture, The Glass of Absinthe, in 1914.

The ever-flamboyant Oscar Wilde praised absinthe with characteristic flair in conversation and in writing, once claiming that “a glass of absinthe is the most poetical thing in the world”. Who could resist?

Absinthe was at a peak of popularity as the end of the nineteenth century drew near. In the cafés that lined the grand boulevards of fin-de-siecle Paris, it was the ubiquitous afternoon cocktail, so popular that this time became known as “l’heure vert”, the green hour.

There were at least 120 distilleries producing absinthe. Several made a superior product but many unscrupulous producers adulturated their “absinthe” with inferior ingredients and known toxins, such as antimony, which would give these rogue concoctions the cloudy appearance of the real thing. Many of these brands were remarkably inexpensive, much cheaper than wine, for example, which led to even greater abuse of the adulterated versions of the drink. As absinthe was outlawed, the five top producers nearly escaped the ban with claims of the purity of their product, but the mounting hysteria generated by World War I eclipsed reasonable arguments and all absinthe was banned. The Belle Epoche had ended, its romance overshadowed by war.

Absinthe never regained its pre-war allure. Now and then, an artist or writer would speak of it. Hemingway was fond of absinthe, which he likely procured in Cuba, during his many fishing trips to the island. Students of literature and art were by captivated it, but they were a small, quiet group, content with the poems, tales and paintings that were evidence of the spell it cast over a generation. Absinthe had fallen into obscurity. By the time Barnaby Conrad wrote the manuscript that would eventually become Absinthe: History in a Bottle, no one was interested. In 1982, eight publishers rejected it. It was finally released in 1988, and sold modestly until the publisher, Chronicle Books, let it go out of print.



The Millenium Approaches

For some, the twenty-first century was rapidly approaching; for others, the twentieth century was ending, a subtle but signal difference in perception. The last fin-de-siecle enjoyed a resurgence of popularity, as a new generation discovered the Bohemian culture of France and celebrated the Belle Epoch, its writers, its poets, its artists, and perhaps most importantly, its style. More and more references to absinthe began to appear, and endless rumors circulated that it had been served at this party or that.

“There’s something romantically decadent about it,” Conrad explains, “and I think people are as interested in the associations–in Wilde, Baudelaire, Apollinaire, Degas–as they are in the thing itself. When the book was first published, there was no absinthe culture to speak of, today there is.” Absinthe: History in a Bottle was reissued in the mid-1990s, to coincide with the publication of a new work by Conrad, The Martini. Sales have soared past those of its original release.

But there is substantial interest in the thing itself, too, including among many of today’s artists. For example, Conrad has shared a few glasses of the antique intoxicant with Francis Ford Coppola, who featured it in his 1992 film Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

“Absinthe was sort of the LSD of the Victorian era,” Francis Coppola commented during the making of the film, in which the Count and Mina sip absinthe in a café during one of the movie’s most tender scenes.



Ain’t Nothing Like the Real Thing

If there is a new absinthe culture today, Justin Sledge of Jackson, Mississippi, may be its muse. The twenty-five-year-old college student has been intrigued by the liqueur since his late teens, when he discovered the poetry of Arthur Rimbaud. Sledge has a collection of more 200 absinthe spoons, dozens of absinthe glasses, and several bottles of the real thing, the pre-ban beverage. Sledge also expects to launch a new company, Belle Epoch Liqueurs, sometime early this year. Currently, he and his partners, one of whom is a chemist, are establishing a distillery in an undisclosed country, and stocking it with the finest organic herbs–artemisia absinthium, among them– they can find. Soon, they hope to be producing an absolutely authentic absinthe, identical to those enjoyed in the cafes of nineteenth century Paris.

"[We are] trying to restablish classical Absinthe as a respectable and sophisticated liqueur,” Sledge writes via e-mail, “one that should share ranks with any well made Cognac or Brandy, but [that] also retains the almost mystic allure and romanticism that has rightfully come to be identified with absinthe and the Belle Epoque." The absinthe will be sold in counties where it is legal, which means we’ll have to travel to try it.

Until then, we’ll have to be content with the modern imitations–they contain all the right ingredients, including wormwood, but are much lower in alcohol than the original and don’t necessary follow a traditional recipe–found legally in England, Portugal, Spain, Andorra, Germany, the Czech Republic, and Japan. Huguet from Andorra and Deva from Spain are considered the finest of the legal brands; Le Bleue, an easy-to-find bootlegged absinthe from Switzerland, is also one of the best. Savor it as you sip, and dream of the real thing.



Absinthe On the Walls

A careful observer will notice something a bit different at the Wine Exchange, a retail wine shop and tasting bar on the square in downtown Sonoma. The walls are adorned with over two-dozen framed posters, each featuring absinthe, the licorice-flavored liqueur that has been illegal in much of the world for nearly a century. It’s a bit like walking into a Belle Epoch gallery, but with plenty of good wine. Proprietor Dan Noreen began searching for the posters in 1998, when he purchased the store from his former boss and partner. He acquired his first one in 1999, after enlisting the help of Drew Gyorke, a private chef in San Francisco who deals in vintage posters on the side. When first consulted, Gyorke was not encouraging. “Do you know how rare these things are?” he cautioned his long-time friend. Yet with his world-wide contacts, Gyorke has helped Noreen acquire 26 vintage posters so far; all but three–a tin sign from Italy, a Swiss poster that Noreen keeps at home because it doesn’t fit with the others, and one produced in Belgium–are French.

The posters date back as early as 1892, a time when absinthe was at its peak of popularity in fin-de-siecle Europe, especially France, and are by some of the most famous poster artists of all time, including Leonetto Cappiello and Privat-Livemont, whose Absinthe Robette poster, with its radiant sensuality and allusion of spirituality, is one of the best-known of the collection.

What sets these original posters apart from the modern reproductions that are available everywhere are the inks that were used, the depth of the images, and the extraordinary quality of the printing. Interestingly, the paper used to produce the limited print runs–in many instances, as few as 500 were printed–was the cheapest available. The original posters were simply marketing materials for specific brands of the beverage; they hung on cafe walls for a couple of weeks before being pulled down and tossed out. A few survive today because they were produced during the height of poster mania in Europe; collectors got them directly from the presses as they were being printed. Noreen’s collection includes one that is the only known copy in the world, and others that are among just two or three that survive.

Why absinthe?, we asked Noreen, who has worked in the wine industry since he was 18. Now 44, he says, “It’s the only alcoholic beverage that has ever been singled out for prohibition,” he says, “and great artists and writers adored it.” And now the walls of his successful little wine shop celebrate it.

www.wineexsonoma.com



Is True Absinthe Safe?

The honest answer is no one knows. Both warnings and recommendations are based largely on anecdotal evidence, not hard research. Yet many experts today feel there is cause for concern, beyond that warranted solely about alcohol.

“The chemical structure of [the active ingredients in absinthe] is not just alcohol,” explains Robert Feldman, professor of Neurology, Pharmacology, and Environmental Health at the Boston University School of Medicine and Public Health. “Absinthe is a chemical soup, with alcohol, thujone, and possibly unknown contimanants.”

In the last two decades, there has been an increase in medical research about absinthe, but there is as yet no comprehensive study based on either antique recipes or currently available brands. However, anyone who has a seizure disorder would be wise to avoid absinthe entirely, Dr. Feldman advices, because some evidence suggests thujone may cause seizures.

Ellen Mack, M.D., a neurologist, a founder of Russian Hill Estate Winery in Sonoma County, and a member of the Wine Institute’s Health and Research Committee, cannot recommend absinthe. “Most of us are well versed in the health benefits of wine,” she notes, suggesting that it is unlikely that absinthe, which does not contain wine’s unique antioxidant compounds, offers similar advantages.

“Since much of the information about absinthe is outdated and the beverage has had many reincarnations,” she says, “it is hard to make recommendations about its health efects. . . the original version containing wormwood may be safe to consume on an occasional basis. It becomes a personal decision if wormwood adds sufficient flavor and enjoyment to warrant the possible risks of consuming the true absinthe on a regular basis.”

For now, you’re on your own. But you can be sure that if absinthe’s popularity and availability in the US continue to rise, the National Institute of Health and the FDA will take a much closer look.



©2000 Michele Anna Jordan. All rights reserved.

this article first appeared in The Wine Enthusiast, October, 2000

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