Le Toilet Vert
Oh how you hurt
Aquamarine is your hue
With verte
You have nothing to do

Your vision is clear
Even when water is near
Nothing will cloud your day
It's not
Really a good thing to say

You smell of booze
So it's hard to choose
What to write down
because
I'm wearing a frown

You taste like eucalyptus
What the #*&$ is with this?
Absinthe is made with wormwood
And yet
You display nothing you should

I can't wait for you to finish
And quickly you do diminish
Cleanly you disappear
Not warm
And thankfully not here

I find you are no longer made
Even your memory will fade
So I deliver this eulogy
because
You made a fool of me.

I got a bottle of this a while ago from a friend who knows I like absinthe. A nice thought, and appreciated as such, but now I'm torn. Revealing my true thoughts after sampling the gift would risk insult; not to do so risks it becoming an annual tradition. I can usually find something positive to enjoy in any food, wine, or absinthe. This product strains that ability.

Appearance: Blue. As in, the blue of Scope mouthwash. Electric blue, of the sort you'd find in the specialty box of novelty crayons. The bottle was somewhat creatively designed, at least, if one wishes to count that toward the single point it scores for appearance.

Louche: Yes, it did louche. Poorly, but once coaxed into it, the louche was at least full and milky bluish-white, of a color not nearly as offensive as its original state.

Aroma: The theme of Scope mouthwash continues, without much exaggeration. I wouldn't have been able to even detect that it was intended to be an absinthe substitute.

Flavor/mouthfeel: This is where the title of this review comes in. Truly, surprisingly bad. Disappointing. When drinking beer, I appreciate nearly any old beer for what it is - not every beer needs to be my favorite homebrew. I feel the same about absinthe, but found it difficult to appreciate anything about this abomination. It tasted and felt much like it looked and smelled - like mouthwash. Fine, if I wanted mouthwash, but not so good for something I was about to drink.

Finish: Some moderate improvement. Once swallowed, a hint of minty freshness lingered as if I had just rinsed with - you guessed it - Scope mouthwash. Not much in the way of unpleasant aftertaste, but not what I would expect from absinthe or even an absinthe substitute.

Overall: Poor. I wanted to like it, if for no better reason than it was a gift and I had noticed that it seemed readily available locally. I'll save the pretty bottle, but not its contents.

While I may be a "glass is half full" sort, I'd rather this particular glass remain empty or be refilled - and imbibed - by someone other than myself. Preferably not someone who wants to actually enjoy his or her drink.

Color: It's a lovely teal color...but not if you're claiming to be a green absinthe.

Louche: It TRIES to louche. It really does.

Aroma: Tingly alcohol scent.

Flavor: It can really be described best as "EUCALYPTUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" It's intense. And it burns.

Finish: Not nearly fast enough. I suppose in it's defense, it's a fresh, clean, bad finish instead of a swampy, warm, bad finish.

Overall: I've been trained to try to drink all of what's put in front of me, as there are sober children in Africa. It was difficult with this one. There have been few other alcoholic drinks that have been this wince-inducingly bad. That said, most of the bottle was drank, partly because there wasn't much else in the house and it was a near-palatable summer drink, partly because I knew something nice(r) could be bought once the suffering was over.

Color:
The label lists dyes, and the blue is off putting.

Louche:
Limp, and barely noticeable.

Aroma:
Smells like old man's cologne. I seriously thought this was a gag product.

Taste:
Like an old man's cologne. It tastes like it smells, and reinforced my thinking it was a gag product.

Finish:
My palate isn't as refined as others, but I couldn't go past 2 sips.

Overall:
I'm still believing this is a gag gift, and was intended as a cheap man's cologne for people who want to feel like their living dangerously. I wish there was a '0' ratings option.

When I first saw the bottle, I admit I had that "child on Christmas morning" feeling. What a great presentation. Unfortunately, my excitement receeded quickly when I opened the lovely cylindrical case in which it was housed and actually examined the bottle closely. The first tip-off that this was going to be bad was the list of artificial color dyes used: "Yellow 45, Blue 40," and the like.

The aroma from the bottle was shockingly minty, with a hint of spice, some undercut anise tones, and no readily detectable wormwood.

I prepared the glass 3:1 (water:absinthe), with one sugar cube and a drip. The louche came abruptly and engulfed the glass all at once, with no real subtlety of any kind. The color turned a bizarre aquamarine. Holding the glass up to the light I did briefly note some interesting tones near the bottom, but nothing too spectacular.

The legs on the glass were thin and quick to dissipate, leaving an odd array of oily spots. Overall it just looked messy. After a bit of breathing time, the smell from the glass was still not very complex; far too simplistic, in my opinion.

And, as expected, the taste was not dissimilar in nature: dull, no traditional wormwood bitterness, just some half-buried anise flavor under a menage of sugary, candy-like mint and clouded spice. After pouring the drink I realized I should not have used sugar, as there is more than enough noxious, artificial sweetener taste in the bottle itself.

I will say, however, that this failed attempt does have a fairly good finish. It's smooth with the right amount of dryness and a nice fade. But that is hardly enough to redeem the tragic shortcomings of the flavor, which prevented me from even being able to finish a single full glass.

My advice is if you're looking to pick up one of the few labels now available in regular US liquor stores, skip this one and go with the Kubler (a blanche) or the Lucid. The latter is not great by any means, but a far better choice than Le Tourment, which will, in fact, torment the drinker, though not in the way they might be hoping.