A DRINK TO TIP ON
WORDS BY MICHELLE BUCKLEY
Absinthe’s history is as rough as a Sunday morning hangover. Over the last 150 years the spirit has inspired, destroyed and caused many a stir. What is it about this drink that eludes so many of us?
The tale begins on a chilly and wet evening in Melbourne, one that forces locals indoors—the streets empty and silent. Walking down one of Melbourne’s countless laneways, I happen to stumble upon a nondescript door nestled among graffiti and weathered band posters—the ones that decorate the city streets. Attached is a red button, the type you’re told not to touch as a child. Doing what any excitable kid would do—or simply being a Melburnian who loves a good hidden gem—I press it. The child in me was hoping to find Narnia while the adult in me was simply hoping to escape the dreary night.
What awaited me was an elegant and quaint Wonderland for adults: tulips sprouting from the ceiling, elaborate artwork adorning the walls, lights emitting an emerald glow, dainty fountains standing tall on tables from another time and a reverse-bar housing elaborate bottles of what I assumed was some kind of alcoholic drink. But what?
A place as alluring and mythical as the drink itself, here began my relationship with absinthe.
La Fée Verte (the Little Green Fairy), the Green Fantastic, the Green Lady. A drink as elusive as its name. One of the most maligned and misunderstood spirits, there are more stories about absinthe by the millilitre than any other drink. Adored by writers and artists and despised by prohibitionists and wine makers, this spirit has brewed many a storm. The allure of absinthe lies in this very past: from health elixir and muse to deadly toxin and demon. It is a spirit as rich in history as it is in flavour.
Stepping into Melbourne’s only dedicated absinthe bar, Absinthia, is like stepping into a story—a weird, beautiful and charming tale of love and loss, of happiness and hate. Its interior is infused with a drop of nineteenth century Parisian elegance and nib of bohemian allure. It’s a captivating collage reflective of the drink itself. Absinthia’s owners, Rebecca Lombardo and Vince Morino, chose to open an absinthe bar in an attempt to correct the spirit’s tainted image.
Made with a number of different herbs and spices—the most important being anise, fennel and wormwood—it was the latter that condemned the drink as a toxic behemoth. While wormwood does contain thujone, a toxic chemical found in edible plants, its bad reputation has more to do with history and folklore than with science.
Yet while its story is tumultuous, absinthe’s origin is tame. Originating in Switzerland, absinthe was traditionally used as a narcotic and consumed by French legionnaires during the Algerian war as a treatment for malaria (I’ll drink to that!). It was this relationship that saw absinthe’s introduction into France, cementing it as one of the country’s most coveted drinks during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.
By the late nineteenth century absinthe had won over the French, becoming the latest fad in alcohol: cheap, widely available and flavourful. Favoured by poets, writers and artists, five o’clock became famously known as the ‘Green Hour’, with French cafes serving glasses of the verdant spirit.
As absinthe gained popularity through France it began detracting from the wine culture that underpinned the country. French wine makers and prohibitionists united to take down the Green Fairy.
While absinthe’s popularity grew, so too did its reputation as a psychosis-inducing demon said to cause blackouts, hallucinations and bizarre behaviour. The more absinthe-related abuse was reported, the more society came to associate the drink with degeneracy. Blamed for an array of issues—psychosis and murder among them—absinthe was banned in France, Switzerland, most of Europe and the US by 1915. Its influence evaporated for the remainder of the twentieth century.
Absinthia is a place seeking to correct these historical wrongs. Here absinthe is the jewel in the crown, a sacred treasure to be honoured, held and enjoyed. Overlooking the bar is a painting of Mr. Absinthe himself—Oscar Wilde. Associated with the bohemian movement of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, absinthe was touted as a muse in a bottle and the goddess of artistic rebellion. More than just a spirit loved by drunks, absinthe was mesmerising and addictive. It was a symbol of enlightenment thought to enhance the creative process, drawing out each idea drop by drop and sip by sip.
Oscar Wilde, James Joyce, Edgar Allen Poe, Ernest Hemingway, Charles Baudelaire and Pablo Picasso are among many of the esteemed writers and artists who were said to have spent many an evening dancing with the Green Fairy. Picasso’s sculpture The Glass of Absinthe and Baudelaire’s poem ‘Poison’ pay homage to the drink of all drinks, works that profess their love for a drink like no other. For Baudelaire, absinthe was ‘the poison welling up in your eyes that show me my poor soul reversed, my dreams throng to drink at those green distorting pools.’
The name ‘the Green Fairy’ was born out of this movement—a metaphorical creature locked within a bottle. Once unleashed, it became the trusted guide taking its drinkers on a journey to enlightenment—a sanctuary from the menial in the surreal. The Green Fairy was symbolic of transformation and absinthe does just that. As drops of water mix with absinthe the liquid changes, going from a deep emerald green to an opaque greenish-white. Cloudiness enshrouds the glass as it does the mind. It’s here where ideas are born, set free in the mind of the drinker.
Unlike your average bar experience—sticky floors, loud music, and large crowds—Absinthia is a place of elegance. The vibe is Paris circa 1900 (no sugar-flame- shots here). Paying tribute to its traditions, absinthe is consumed the way it should be—mixed with water and sugar to bring out the unique colourful flavours. Sitting at one of the bar’s white-clothed tables, I’m transported into the Belle Époque, a time full of optimism, rich in the arts and, of course, absinthe. For a moment I feel as if I’ve stumbled upon the home of the twentieth century bohemians—the avant-garde elite spinning tales.
Taking me through the ritual of absinthe drinking is barman Paddy, who was drawn to the spirit for its history as much as its flavour. The process is ritualistic. Carefully laying out his tools like a surgeon, Paddy places a perforated spoon on a glass containing the emerald elixir. He gently places a sugar cube on top of the spoon. Water begins dripping from a glass fountain, sliding over the sugar cube and into the glass. Watching absinthe mix with sugar and water is hypnotic, like watching a spectacular dance. A mist slowly befalls the green drink, the elements mix together to form a cloudy white substance—a storm brewing in my glass. I’m told when the cloud has fully descended, you’re good to go.
‘Adored by writers and artists and despised by prohibitionists and wine makers, this spirit has brewed many a storm.’
One sip and the drama unfolds. My mouth fills with a flavour that’s part liquorice and part fire. A searing sensation trickles down my throat. As Wilde puts it, ‘a glass of absinthe is as poetical as anything in the world. What difference is there between a glass of absinthe and a sunset?’
For the sceptics out there: absinthe isn’t a hallucinogenic but it does bring forth a light, airy feeling. I’m chatty and curious, relaxed and inspired—now I know why artists adored the drink.
Despite its tumultuous history, absinthe was survived by the bohemians of the twenty-first century—it’s a drink to inspire. Absinthia is a place that attracts poets, artists and writers, keeping the artistic ties between absinthe and its eclectic drinkers.
Whatever you choose to believe, absinthe has a story to tell in every sip. It is a drink for those who dare to dream, who dare to think and who dare to drink.
Griffin Simm
HOW TO DRINK ABSINTHE (BELLE ÉPOQUE STYLE)
Slow down, step back in time and enjoy the ritual.
What you will need:
30 ml absinthe
Absinthe glass
Absinthe spoon
A sugar cube
Absinthe (water) fountain
Water
How to serve:
Add absinthe to your absinthe glass.
Place the absinthe spoon over your glass and rest one cube of sugar on it.
Fill fountain with chilled, still water.
Place the glass under the absinthe fountain and turn the tap on until you get a light dripping motion.
Allow the water to drip over the sugar cube into the glass, adding a water ratio of around 1:3 (absinthe:water). Different levels of water will compliment different herbal tones therefore the amount of water will vary depending on the type of absinthe.
When your glass has become fully cloudy, the green fairy has done her magic and your absinthe is ready to drink!
Consuming absinthe is something to be enjoyed, so take your time and savour the flavours.