Absinthe

Recently, my friend Mandy of Married up with Wine inspired me to get back into the blog game. She's made a mark in the blog world and encouraged me to continue with A Pot in Time, which was once a true passion of mine. So here we go--jumping back into the strange and delicious world of food and drink.

For my first post back, I'm going to talk about absinthe--a beverage that completely fulfills the "strange and delicious" aspects of this blog. My first experience with absinthe was in Prague when I watched my stepdad drink it. At this point it was illegal pretty much everywhere except the Czech Republic. For some reason, absinthe terrified me--it was a completely mysterious beverage that I believed would send me down the rabbit hole if I so much as smelled it. So I instead of trying it for myself, I sat, watched, and waited for my stepdad to see the Green Fairy, who never showed. (The bartender later told us that it would take about twelve shots of the stuff to start experiencing the symptoms that writers and artists like Pablo Picasso, Vincent Van Gogh, and Ernest Hemingway supposedly experienced while drinking the bohemian liquid.)

After some time passed and absinthe became legal in the states, I decided to give it a try at Jose Garces' bar and restaurant Village Whiskey in Philadelphia. The bar specializes in vintage cocktails, liquors and prohibition-style ingredients like house made bitters and creme de violette. I was impressed with the set up--absinthe spoons, cubes of sugar, a slow ice-water drip over the glasses. It was all very intriguing.

After waiting a considerable amount of time for the sugar to melt and watching the bright green liquid become a murky, foggy yellow, the absinthe was ready to drink. The flavor was bright, like sweet fennel and star anise, and cold yet warm like most strong alcohol. It was good and I enjoyed the whole process, but upon finishing my glass, the mystery and allure faded slightly. I'm sure when the brilliant struggling artists were getting sloshed at the Lapin Agile in Paris around the turn of the 20th century it was all far more grande. Maybe next time I'll pair the bottle with a type writer or paint brush and see what happens.

Have you tried absinthe? What did you think?

Happy adventuring!