Reviews written by Poor
|Flavor / Mouthfeel||4.0|
I wish I had tasted more absinthes before this one, so I could know just how close to perfection it may be. I hesitate to give it a five because this would be presumptuous having only tasted Lucid and Kubler. The smell neat is an amazing perfume, very nicely balanced. Although I cannot place all of the aromas, none of them overpower each other (i.e. it does not smell like anise with some other things hiding under it.)I louched it sans sucre at a 1:4 ratio. Beautiful trails and a milky verdant opal cloud smoldered out of the very natural and attractive olive green liquor. The scent intensifies and fills the room, I can almost taste it before it touches my lips. Flavors of the holy trinity unite in my mouth, my tongue tells me there are other flavors, delicious flavors, singing with this choir, but it cannot tell me their names. Surely one with a more trained and less Burnt pallet will be able to identify these tastes, all I can say is "Mmmmmm."
The mouthfeel is the creamiest I have ever experienced and leaves me with a mouth that is comfortably numb.
Some day when I have expanded my pallet I will revisit this review and undoubtedly add a five or two.
I would take this over Lucid or Kubler any day, even if it were priced high above its modest $60.
|Flavor / Mouthfeel||2.0|
You can do better.
The color as poured is a pale greenish blue, very thin. The louche takes a while to erupt and when it does is terribly thin and translucent. The aroma before louche is anise anise anise, after, cat urine and anise. The taste is cloyingly sweet and anisey, like sambuca or an anisette. There is a bit of tongue numbing that subsides quickly. Overall, get arak or ouzo or a pastis or anything. I would rather drink louched sambuca than this.
|Flavor / Mouthfeel||4.0|
Preface- This is my first real absinthe. I feel I may have weighed my final score to keep room open for when I try other products. I did not want to write this review just after my first glass because I was afraid the awe and wonder I was experiencing would stilt my judgment.
Color- Very nice natural looking pale green. Better than any substitutes I have seen.
Louche- I louched veery slowly from a drop bottle to fully savor the effect. The oil tendrils were entrancing and gave way to a slow smoky louche rising from the bottom of the glass. After five minutes of slow drip when the louche was complete I found it to be quite opaque with little opalescence.
Aroma- I give this my lowest score. Although I could easily smell the anise and fennel, but these and other aromas where tainted by what I could only describe as a spicy mexican food scent that seemed entirely out of place. Almost sweaty. This was the smell in the bottle, after letting it breath in the glass for a bit this weakened, it was further diminished after the louch- becoming understudy to the prettier ingredients that had been waiting in the wings. Still, if I knew nothing of absinthe and was offered a whiff of the bottle it is unlikely I would have partaken in this spicy smelling liquor.
Flavor- (Unsweetened) Tasty! Overall very well balanced, no note overpowered another. Even the spicy imp that hid at the bottom of the glass danced happily around the maypole in my mouth with the others. Also, Lucid has offered the finest mouthfeel of any liquor I have ever sampled (yet). It coated my mouth nicely and only slightly numbed my tongue, to pleasing effect.
(Sweetened) I could see many people enjoying Lucid with a cube of sugar. However I found that adding sugar seemed to kill half of the nuances in the drink, like covering a finely grilled and seasoned portobello with catsup. Still enjoyable, though cloying.
Finish- The ghosts of my last sip lingered on my palate for a pleasing amount of time once I had finished, enticing me into another cup. I found no alcohol burn on the way down at the strength of 4:1.
Overall- I am very thankful this product has made it to the US market. It would have been a very long time before I could order anything comparable.
I would suggest Lucid in a heartbeat, and I will. Just don't smell it before the louche.