Barbara
Absinthe
Hall of
Fame
Still Life with Absinthe
The tipple of choice for fin-de-siecle decadents
tempts a new generation
Called the cocaine of the 19th century, absinthe was so central to that
era's artistic life that it appeared in the paintings of masters ranging
from Van Gogh to Picasso, and in the writings of such luminaries as
Oscar Wilde and Emile Zola. No wonder it piques the fantasies of today's
explorers, especially those who travel to Czechoslovakia, Spain, and
other parts of Europe where it can still be sampled. Be forewarned,
however: Despite its renewed celebrity status as Nine Inch Nails singer
Trent Reznor's "perfect drug," the stuff can be nasty, and its active
ingredient, wormwood, even nastier. (Last September, a leading U.S.
medical journal reported renal failure in a man who drank essential oil
of wormwood.) In this piece from The Idler (Winter, 1997), Black Box
Recorder musician and writer John Moore describes his flirtation with
the Green Fairy.
One winter, studying the bottles in a Prague bar, I noticed a
particularly inviting one filled with emerald green liquid that looked
like it could inflict damage. It was absinthe. I knew a little about
absinthe but, like most people, I thought it had been banned and was
gone forever.
Before taking a sip, I studied it. Its scent was pungent and alcoholic,
its color spectacular. It seemed to catch the light and looked quite
unnatural. The first mouthful exploded on my tongue and vaporized up
through my nostrils. I had to swallow it quickly. I could feel its
intense heat running down my throat, burning its way into my stomach.
What little taste there was, was dry and bitter, tinged with aniseed. It
had a real afterburn. I felt like it had been injected, not swallowed.
There was no gradual seeping into the bloodstream -- this was the
bloodstream. Armed with a glass of water, I finished it, then ordered
another glass. A friendship had begun.
I soon learned how to drink absinthe properly. Of course, you can drink
it neat (preferable for the first glass, otherwise you miss out on the
burn), but the best way is to add sugar and dilute it with water. This
gives drinking absinthe a ritualistic feel, like using intravenous
drugs. Both involve spoons, fire, and patience: similar means to a not
completely dissimilar end.
Pour the absinthe into a glass (narrow is best, because it reduces
evaporation). Fill the spoon with sugar, then dip it into the absinthe.
Once the sugar is soaked, light it and hold it over the glass until it
melts into the absinthe, which catches fire; this is when you add the
water. Sometimes it is difficult to put out the fire; you may have to
blow on it.
Absinthe's effects are different from those of standard drinks. I am not
sure whether this is due to the ingredients or the fact that the alcohol
is twice the strength of most other spirits (70 percent by volume).
Drinking absinthe has a relaxing effect -- the first few glasses, at
least. It is very warming, perfect for a hip flask on a winter's day. As
far as I can remember, I have never had hallucinations while drinking
it, but it does produce vivid dreams, invariably surreal and obscene.
The drink is made by soaking dried wormwood (Artemisia absinthium, still
found in health food shops and used to kill intestinal parasites) in
ethyl alcohol, along with herbs to hide the bitter taste. Aniseed is the
dominant flavor, although fennel, hyssop, and lemon balm are also used.
The Oxford English Dictionary describes wormwood as "an emblem of what
is bitter and grievous to the soul"; in Russian, it is chernobyl. Found
everywhere, it is native to Asia and Europe, where it grows along what
is said to be the path the exiled serpent took from Eden.
Absinthe is commonly believed to cause hallucinations, convulsions,
degenerate behavior, and even brain damage. Modern research has shown
that wormwood releases a chemical called thujone, which has a molecular
structure similar to that of marijuana's active component. It isn't
clear whether the thujone in absinthe is sufficient to cause such severe
effects, however. It is far more likely that alcohol is the culprit.
Although it makes a brief appearance in Greek and Roman history,
absinthe didn't become popular until the end of the 18th century. It is
said that a French physician living in Switzerland, Pierre Ordinaire,
invented it in 1792, but it's more likely that he was the first to
market it. The drink was popularized by another Frenchman, Henri-Louis
Pernod, who built a small distillery in Val de Travers, Switzerland, in
1805, then the Pernod Fils factory at Pontarlier, France. The business
grew steadily. In the war with Algeria, absinthe was given as a malaria
preventative to French troops, who developed a taste for it that
survived their return home. Successive failures of the grape harvests in
the late 1800s also fueled its popularity: As wine prices went up,
absinthe prices came down until they were well within the reach of the
hoi polloi. Millions of liters of la Fee Verte (the Green Fairy), as it
was affectionately called, were consumed each year. Exported everywhere,
it became the drink of choice for artists and artisans alike.
Eventually, the voices of dissent, especially those of priests and
vintners, made themselves heard. Temperance leagues formed, and the
press launched a moral crusade, reporting absinthe-related crimes and
creating conspiracy theories. Left-wingers said it robbed the working
class of dignity, while right-wingers denounced it because libertines
drank it. Some claimed it was a Jewish plot to destroy France; one
distillery even marketed a brand called "Anti-Jewish Absinthe."
By 1900, medical evidence was beginning to tip the scales. The imminence
of war led to a panic over poor health: The average Frenchman's chest
was two inches smaller than the average German's, and the asylums were
full of people whose mental conditions were attributed to absinthe. In
1905, when Swiss farmer Jean Lanfray shot his entire family after a
heavy day's drinking, the story made headlines all over Europe,
proclaiming him "un absinthiste." (He had also consumed several bottles
of wine, brandy, and creme de menthe, but that was ignored.) That did
it; the bans began. Belgium was first, in 1905, then Switzerland in
1908, the United States in 1912, and, two weeks after the outbreak of
war, France in 1914.
In 1990, Randomil Hill, a Czech distiller, began to produce absinthe
legally again. The drink is also available in Portugal and parts of
Spain, and is gaining an ever-widening following.
Along with the palette knife and pen, absinthe was essential to the
19th-century sensual explorer's toolkit. Whether it worked for or
against creativity is debatable, but one cannot deny that the legacy of
work these old soaks left behind is among the finest of all time. Like
the Italian Renaissance, the age of absinthe drew a map for the future.
You may want to check out some lively Net sites on the subject before
imbibing, or, if you've already done the dirty deed, you can participate
in an online survey conducted by the University of California, San
Francisco, Drug Dependence Research Center. As researchers Matthew
Baggott and Dr. John Mendelson point out, "Little is known about
absinthe's effects in humans. Research from the early part of the
century is difficult to interpret, and no modern research has been
carried out."
At least not yet. Cheers
by JOHN MOORE
Rx for the Morning After
After a night of drinking absinthe, your hangover may mimic the German
katzenjammer (wailing of cats) or the Norwegian jeg har tommermenn
(workmen in my head). But even if it's more like the French gueule de
bois (woody mouth) or the Italian stonato (out of tune), you'll probably
want some kind of relief. You could try imagery (picture yourself on a
boat in stormy waters, then visualize the gale subsiding) or acupressure
(squeeze the web between thumb and finger for one minute on each hand)
to ease nausea. Vitamins (especially B and C) are also helpful; try
E-mergen-C, a good ready-made mixture. But if your head is still
wailing, these curative cocktails may be your best bet. (Note: They do
the trick with less romantic intoxicants as well.)
Spinach Sour
A popular Asian remedy that replaces minerals flushed out by alcohol.
Simmer lots of spinach (heads and roots) over low heat for two or three
hours and drink.
Banana Peel Punch
The liquid from boiled banana peels is a traditional Chinese detoxifier.
Cayenne Cordial
Sprinkle a small amount of cayenne pepper into water and gargle with it
to stimulate production of saliva and gastric juice. Used for centuries
to soothe sensitive tummies.
Poison Passion
Take a 6C or 12C tablet of poison nut (Nux vomica) -- a homeopathic
remedy available in health food stores -- every three or four hours.
Alfalfa Spritzer
A Mexican favorite. Steep 1 teaspoon each of alfalfa seeds and dried
orange leaf in boiling water for five minutes, strain, and sip.
FenLem Fizz
Before breakfast, drink 4 ounces of water with the juice of half a lemon
and 1 or 2 drops of fennel essential oil.
Carrot Colada
To flush and rehydrate your system, drink a mixture of these juices: 8
ounces carrot, 1 ounce beet, 4 ounces celery, and 1/2 to 1 ounce
parsley.
Yogurt Daiquiri
Drink a mixture of 1 tablespoon yogurt, 1 cup water, and a pinch of
cumin powder three or four times during the day.
Kudzu Kamikaze
This Chinese tea, used to treat alcohol abuse for more than 1,300 years,
curbs the desire for alcohol and relaxes stomach spasms to relieve
nausea. Use equal parts kudzu root, umeboshi plum, and fresh ginger
root.
Coconut Cooler
Plain coconut water calms the stomach.
Tikta Tonic
From India: Take half a teaspoon of tikta powder -- or aloe vera, myrrh,
or sudharshan -- three times during the day.
Ritual Remedy
In order, try these 18th- and 19th-century folk remedies: Suck on a
sugar cube drizzled with clove oil, chew on a parsley sprig, drink
lukewarm chamomile tea, and take 1 or 2 teaspoons of plain honey every
half hour for two or three hours.
Ayurvedic Digestif
A teaspoon of lime juice and a pinch of cumin powder in a cup of orange
juice quells queasiness. Or add a teaspoon of lime juice, half a
teaspoon of sugar, and a pinch of salt to a glass of water, then toss in
half a teaspoon of baking soda just before drinking it.
Last Resort
Rub cabbage juice on your forehead to end your headache.
-- Lucy Basse
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The Absinthe Hall of Fame
Vincent van Gogh, artist (1853-1890): He painted Still Life with
Absinthe (1887) and developed an absinthe craving that scientists say
may have prompted his appetite for paint and turpentine, and his
propensity for bizarre behavior. Charles Baudelaire, poet (1821-1867):
"One must be drunk always."
Edgar Degas, artist (1834-1917): His The Glass of Absinthe (1876), a
painting of a glassy-eyed man and woman at a cafe, is a well-known
depiction of imbibers. Ernest Dowson, poet (1867-1900): "Absinthe makes
the Tart grow fonder."
Ernest Hemingway, writer (1899-1961): "Got tight last night on absinthe
and did knife tricks."
Oscar Wilde, writer (1854-1900): "After the first glass you see things
as you wish they were. After the second, you see things as they are not.
Finally you see things as they really are, and that is the most horrible
thing in the world."
Emile Zola, writer (1840-1902): His novel L'Assommoir depicts the sleazy
lifestyle of alcoholics in 19th-century Paris.
Paul Verlaine, poet (1844-1896): "For me, my glory is but a humble
ephemeral Absinthe /drunk on the sly, with fear of treason /and if I
drink no longer, it is for a good reason."
Pablo Picasso, artist (1881-1973): Among his famous paintings are Woman
Drinking Absinthe and The Absinthe Drinker (both 1901) and The Glass of
Absinthe (1911).
Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, artist (1864-1901): Drank absinthe from a
hollow walking stick.
Barbrien wrote:
>
Thanks so much for posting this, Barbrien. I've been wondering about
absinthe for some time. For the record, is it illegal in the US?
gary gives a hearty recommendation to this:
> Kudzu Kamikaze
> This Chinese tea, used to treat alcohol abuse for more than 1,300 years,
> curbs the desire for alcohol and relaxes stomach spasms to relieve
> nausea. Use equal parts kudzu root, umeboshi plum, and fresh ginger
> root.
> Oscar Wilde, writer (1854-1900): "After the first glass you see things
> as you wish they were. After the second, you see things as they are not.
> Finally you see things as they really are, and that is the most horrible
> thing in the world."
Oscar got it right, but lost it in the homestretch. Seeing things as
they really are is not horrible. Don't you see?
--gary
Barbrien wrote:
>
Thanks so much for posting this, Barbrien.
~~~~~You're welcome. You never know what you'll run across in the pages of
Utne:)
I've been wondering about
absinthe for some time. For the record, is it illegal in the US?
~~~~~~~ Me too, now I see why it reminds me of coke. It's illegal here but
Formica tells us it's avaiable in Australia. Roo Juice:)
gary gives a hearty recommendation to this:
> Kudzu Kamikaze
> This Chinese tea, used to treat alcohol abuse for more than 1,300 years,
> curbs the desire for alcohol and relaxes stomach spasms to relieve
> nausea. Use equal parts kudzu root, umeboshi plum, and fresh ginger
> root.
~~~~~~~I saw that, isnt that strange? I dont think you'll remember but when I
was telling you of some of the ways I used umeboshi plum I mentioned a drink I
make often of kukicha tea, plum, kudzu and fresh ginger. And that was before I
had hangovers to worry about:)
> Oscar Wilde, writer (1854-1900): "After the first glass you see things
> as you wish they were. After the second, you see things as they are not.
> Finally you see things as they really are, and that is the most horrible
> thing in the world."
Oscar got it right, but lost it in the homestretch. Seeing things as
they really are is not horrible. Don't you see?
~~~~~~Holy See, don't you?
Barbara
--gary
KUDZU ROOT?!
Well, what the HELL are you girls waiting for? Jesus H., aren't some of
us from Way Down South where the Kudzu grows? Get digging, ladies! We
need that root!
Love&kisses,
Mothra
Barbrien wrote:
>
> > Oscar Wilde, writer (1854-1900): "After the first glass you see things
> > as you wish they were. After the second, you see things as they are not.
> > Finally you see things as they really are, and that is the most horrible
> > thing in the world."
>
gary:
> Oscar got it right, but lost it in the homestretch. Seeing things as
> they really are is not horrible. Don't you see?
>
Barbrien:
> ~~~~~~Holy See, don't you?
Don't see through the holes -- they're the best part.
--gary
KUDZU ROOT?!
Well, what the HELL are you girls waiting for? Jesus H., aren't some of
us from Way Down South where the Kudzu grows? Get digging, ladies! We
need that root!
Love&kisses,
Mothra
********
And send some here, it goes for 25 bucks a pound and use tons of it:)
Barbara
>Well, what the HELL are you girls waiting for? Jesus H., aren't some of
>us from Way Down South where the Kudzu grows? Get digging, ladies! We
>need that root!
>
>Love&kisses,
>Mothra
>********
>
>And send some here, it goes for 25 bucks a pound and use tons of it:)
>
>Barbara
>
>
>
Well hell, nobody asked me. Kudzu has taken over Atlanta and surrounding
coutryside,. Grows up and down every tree, sometimes there are whole fields of
it covering anything. Plenty of Kudzu. Now, who is going to help dig?
Grandmother Spider
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