Steve, you couldn't have made my point better if you tried, when you wrote this in your blog:
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So this whole issue of what is "real" Absinthe is analogous to the Martini. They used to be a mix of gin and vermouth. But by 1972 the martini morphed into a vodka based cocktail. And now we have appletini's, chocotini's and more variations of flavors and ingredients. Are they real martinis? To the purist, perhaps no. But to the consumer who orders them...most definitively YES! As Tony Abou-Ganim and Dale DeGroff mentioned in a seminar I went to recently...if it's served in a martini glass (more properly called a cocktail glass), then it's commonly considered a Martini...no matter what's in it.
In fact, take the argument one step further. Historically vodka used to be a very rough spirit so it was traditioonally flavored with something to cover up the roughness...buffalograss in Poland (Zubrowka), Caraway seed in Scandinavia (Aquavit). Then it became the spirit we know today as neutral spirits. Now all the manufacturers are becoming ever more innovative with ever more esoteric flavors and combinations. The TTB standard of identiy for vodka is "neutral spirits so distilled or so treated after distillation with charcoal or other materials, as to be without distinctive character, aroma, taste or color."
On IdentityWhen anything is absinthe,
nothing is absinthe. Absinthe becomes just a marketing vehicle. It used to be that someone came up with a product—a real, sincere product—and then hired guys to figure out how to sell it. Now someone comes up with a "brand" and then tries to fulfill it by creating whatever product they can spin to fit the brand. Absinthe
seems to be easy because no one knows anything about absinthe and their expectations are easily manipulated.
Well, almost no one.
Without an established identity, virtually anything can be, and is, marketed as "absinthe." This is very attractive and convenient for marketers, but I think it's unfair to consumers who are clearly expecting the absinthe of legend. It's also unfair to the producers who go to the expense, research and effort to produce an authentic product.
People want to drink "Martinis" because they sound swank; but they don't like gin, so let's call something else a Martini. But that doesn't make it
really a Martini. This is just pandering to the ignorance of the public for profit.
Many people want to be able to say they're drinking absinthe because it sounds naughty and hip and now, trendy. So if they don't like anise, are we supposed to accept the destruction of the actual reality
behind that romance and myth, just in order to sell more? So people can point to a meaningless label and pretend they're drinking absinthe when they're not?
I believe it's completely irresponsible to hijack the
idea of absinthe and then sell a different product entirely, just because the consumer doesn't know any better (nor do the producers or marketers in many cases). If this marketing also results in the destruction of a historically-attested category of spirit because of the systematic and well-funded misinformation, it's not only irresponsible, it's unscrupulous and in my opinion, wrong.
It's a New WorldDon't think that I'm opposed to innovation—I'm the guy that used celery seed in his first commercial absinthe; and folks here will tell you that I'm among the most liberal when it comes to questions of what is or isn't absinthe.
We're not talking about whether Fujis or Jonagolds are real apples because they're modern hybrids, we're talking about trying to sell a tomato as an apple. After all, they're both pretty much the same shape, same colors and are both fruit. And weren't tomatoes called "love apples"? (a 17th century marketing coup)
Dale Sklar, the owner of the Hapsburg and Trenet brands, takes the position of many modern would-be absinthe producers:
"In reality, probably no one knows what absinthe tasted like back in France in 1916, as even the best preserved samples remaining must have changed over the years, and what we taste today would have looked and tasted different from when it was made 90 years ago."
The Absente web site says:
"We are not sure what Absinthe tasted like in 1915, but our Absente does taste less bitter than some Absinthe brands sold in Europe today."
I must respectfully disagree with Dale and the Absente copy writer. In reality, many of us know pretty much exactly what it tasted like.
Like a good number of the members here, I've drunk some exemplary absinthes from the turn of the century—Pernod Fils, Edouard Pernod, Berger—and while age may have mellowed and improved them, they're quite well preserved and full of rich anise and wormwood flavor. Ninety years of aging won't produce an anise flavor where there was none. I've also drunk—and distilled—absinthe made precisely according to 19th century recipes. When done properly, the result is virtually the same as pre-ban.
I believe it was you who said, about a different absinthe:
"we were quite surprised at the dominance of licorice in the flavor profile. . . I think we’re going to find better acceptance of the authentic “Bohemian” style."There is no historic evidence of any "Bohemian style" absinthe before the late 1990s, or in fact any absinthe of the style now called "Bohemian." This is a modern marketing concept, confused further by the use of the term "Bohemian" for the 19th century French sub-cultural movement, which was unrelated to the geographical region.
Most of what is being referred to commonly as Bohemian style absinthe is actually more like wormwood bitters or schnapps, re-branded with the name of "absinthe" with the intent to occupy that niche.
You can't make absinthe just by adding wormwood to whatever you fancy. There exist a great number of spirits and bitters which traditionally contain absinthium wormwood: besk, aquavit, piołunówka, etc. Malört, legal in the states for years, is loaded with absinthium and very, very bitter. None of these claim the heritage of absinthe, the specific beverage which gained notoriety—deserved or otherwise—in Belle Époque France.
Absinthe was always an anise drink. Hundreds of contemporary accounts attest that this was always the case. There are also 19th century distiller's manuals which give many detailed recipes and protocols. The two ingredients that are in every single recipe are absinthium wormwood and anise. A huge majority of the remainder also contain sweet fennel. The expected flavor of absinthe is affirmed when we understand that pastis was created later to fill the gap left by the ban of absinthe in 1915. Later all anise beverages were banned because they were abused to hide illegal absinthe. Anise and absinthe are inextricably linked.
On Mixability"It’s inherently more mixable because it doesn’t hit you in the nose with a 2 x 4 of licorice flavor."I've been reading this a lot lately about mixability. Absinthe—real absinthe—is eminently mixable, as hundreds of pre-ban era cocktail recipes demonstrate. In these cocktails, the
expected flavor component that the drink was built on was that of anise; not mint, sage, mastic or eucalyptus.
Rather than change the spirit so substantially as to make it a different product, I believe it would be better to educate bartenders as to it's best use in cocktails. Master a few of the classics, see how it behaves with other spirits, and innovate from there.
The easiest solution is simply to use less. That may not seem like a good thing at first, business-wise, but I believe if you offer an authentic product that will have the support of the very knowledgeable community of absinthe aficionados, and if you teach proper service and usage, people will like it and feel more confident in their choices.
A Sazerac calls for an absinthe rinse, not a half ounce, not a quarter ounce or even a teaspoon. Absinthe in that amount with three ounces of rye doesn't give a recognizable "licorice" flavor, but rounds out the rye, Peychaud's and lemon flavors nicely and really ties the drink together.
Consistent CharacterMixability is indeed an issue, but unfortunately among the huge array of Bohemian style absinthes on the market, there is no common denominator; they mostly taste completely different. I don't believe this is good for mixability. If a bartender creates a recipe that calls for absinthe and he always uses Hill's, how will that cocktail perform with Staroplzenecky? King of Spirits? Mata Hari? Pernod? Jade?
The problem is that most of the "heavy anise" absinthes people criticize are
not properly made in the first place. They have no subtlety and in most cases use only star anise, or worse, star anise oil, instead of green aniseed, as is traditional. This is the source for the confectionery anise flavor that everyone associates with black licorice. These improperly-made absinthes are then cited as examples of why people won't go for the heavy licorice taste. A properly made traditional absinthe is
balanced.
Don't Take It So Seriously, It's Only Booze.The reason for the passion on this topic—among drinkers as well as producers—is that so few people know anything about absinthe that we may well lose the category entirely. Producing an anise-free absinthe is like producing an anise-free ouzo or a juniper-free gin, except that with gin and ouzo, their character is so well known—and federally controlled—that it's unlikely that the revised versions could eclipse the proper ones.
Despite having been relegated to obscurity, absinthe isn't a nebulous novelty; it has a historically-attested character. It wasn't just wormwood with whatever other random herbs the maker fancied; it had an expected flavor and character. It was a wormwood flavored anise spirit. It was, and is, an anise spirit like ouzo, raki, arak and others.
I imagine that if for some reason there were suddenly a huge interest in all things Greek, and partying with ouzo and mezes became highly romanticized (maybe a
Zorba re-make would kick it off?), there would be a lot of people who would want to join that party, but who disliked anise. Do we re-invent ouzo for that market? Do we re-invent gin for juniper-haters?
Most of the makers of truly traditional absinthe are craftsmen who came to the industry through a love and knowledge of the spirit. They are small businesses and have limited production and distribution, but they are the ones keeping the authentic spirit alive.
On the other hand, you have marketing companies which embrace what they see as an obvious goldmine—nothing wrong with that—but who are less concerned, or perhaps just less informed, about the true historic nature of the spirit. Here are deeper pockets, mass production capacity and a worldwide distribution network.
EpilogueAt the end of the day, you're selling an idea. It seems to me that it might be easier and cheaper to sell one you can back up. You can either promote the myth that there's such a thing possible as an anise-free absinthe, or you can earn the support of the very knowledgeable absinthe experts in the world and tell people that anise is sexy.