North Shore’s Sirène Absinthe

The lovechild of Derek and Sonja Kassebaum, North Shore Distillery in Chicago, has plans to release its new absinthe Sirène next week for those of you who live in and around the Windy City. I used to be able to get my hands on North Shore products when living near Chicago about a year ago, but nowadays, I have to settle for my few remaining ounces of their Distiller’s Gin No. 6. I knew I was going to miss out on more North Shore products when I moved away, but their absinthe plans seems to have been classified until just recently. Read more

The Chrysanthemum

The reintroduction of absinthe in the states has sparked a new curiosity among my bar guests about cocktail involving the mysterious spirit. I always like to give them the absinthe alone, cut with a little water, at first in order to appreciate it individually. Then they get a drip, so I can show them the traditional use of an absinthe spoon. Usually, people are satisfied and move on to other cocktails at this point. Let’s face it; an evening of absinthe is still a daunting proposal to the average American. Occasionally, however, someone asks for something more, or a regular will come back in and ask me to use the absinthe they had enjoyed before in another drink. After tonight, I think my absinthe cocktail of choice will certainly be the Chrysanthemum.I had never made myself a Chrysanthemum before tonight, but it had been on the list ever since it appeared in Paul Clarke’s article on absinthe in last month’s issue of Imbibe. Here’s the one I tried:

The Chrysanthemum

2 oz Vya Dry Vermouth
1/4 oz Benedictine
1/4 oz La Clandestine Absinthe

Stir on ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with an orange twist.

The Chrysanthemum is obviously a cocktail of a different sort as its ingredients are generally used in smaller portions in other drinks. I really enjoy cocktails like this because they take you back to a less hateful world when vermouth was treated as an equal libation, not some secondary citizen forced to decay in a speed rail somewhere exposed, yet neglected.

This particular version of the Chrysanthemum is likely a bit different from others I would suspect. The Vya doesn’t have the same dryness as other vermouths, and the La Clandestine has a lighter, more delicate, flavor. Together, I think these two brands worked well in this cocktail because they didn’t overpower one another. But, if using a drier vermouth or bolder absinthe, I would opt for other options if available. People frequently fail to recognize the individual properties of different brands, so be careful and consider your available options individually before placing them together. A recipe is just a suggestion, a great drink is an understanding.

Well, that’s it for today. I just wanted to comment quickly on this cocktail because I really enjoyed it. Try your version of the Chrysanthemum and tell me what you think. For more information on this cocktail, pick up a copy of the current Imbibe magazine and check out the article on absinthe.

A First: La Clandestine Absinthe

Working behind a bar with someone for hours on end, five to seven nights a week can provide a unique perspective on the personality and habits of your counterparts. You learn to move behind the bar without colliding, communicate nonverbally about guests and their needs, and formulate an unwritten list of responsibilities. Chemistry emerges and a detailed understanding of the bartender next to you eventually becomes as clear as a shot of vodka. Wow! A use for vodka finally emerges: the simile; I had to get one more jab in. Anyway, despite this emergent relationship, extended co-workers are a rarity in this industry, often creating a revolving door of different perspectives on how to make a great martini. My recent decision to bartend at a new bar has reintroduced me to the workplace dynamics of adapting to working with a new group.

Fortunately, the staff behind the bar at Beavers is incredibly knowledgeable and focused on drink quality like myself. We’ve read the same books and know that there is only one may to make a true martini, allowing me to skip my traditional lecture. I don’t know where these individuals have been hiding in the Houston area, but I am just glad that we all seem to be collected under one roof. Nevertheless, the introductory period between co-workers is unavoidable, leaving one, at times, grasping for something recognizable. The familiarity of the bottles, the ice, and the eager guest quickly help you to fall into a rhythm that all veteran bartenders possess regardless of the environment. Six years into the profession and I think I could bartend at an elementary school by now; after all, there’s a plethora of juices available.

However, while reflecting on my previous experiences this week, I started to realize that my ability to bartend and my supposed knowledge of spirits and cocktails is based largely on the available bottles and the willingness of my guests to try something new. I usually manage to convince people to move outside their comfort zones (Grey Goose hates me), but the bottles remain relatively constant. Ultimately, this has left a gapping hole in my perspective on the spirits universe.

Products that haven’t made there way onto the shelves at my bars generally remain a mystery to me. I have sought some oddities out, but I admit that I don’t seek new and unique bottles as much as I should to stay on top of things. I know, I know, it’s disgusting. I’ll try and do better – for you of course. Starting right now!

Until recently, absinthe definitely fit into the category of hard to find spirits that never made their way into bars. Sure, there is always Pernod and other substitutes, but these aren’t really absinthes as much as they are anise liqueurs, leaving the American consumer to order bottles online from overseas and pay outrageous shipping rates. Fortunately, the domestic absinthe market appears to be on the cusp of revitalizing itself with the release of Lucid and other products. These real absinthe brands have quickly capitalized on the newfound methods for measuring amounts of thujone. Thujone, a product of wormwood, stood for decades as the legal barrier to absinthe in the United States. Any product containing 10 ppm or more of thujone cannot be produced or sold in the U.S.; however, the newer absinthes simply lower their thujone content below this measurement and avoid the ban. Some have questioned whether this diminishes the credibility of the absinthe, but thujone levels are generally not associated with quality among absinthe experts and have even been shown to potentially diminish the potential of the spirit.

This is great news for those who haves always wanted to try absinthe but resisted the online approach. Unfortunately, the price and availability of Lucid may still be a barrier to broadening one’s consumption perspective. Spec’s, the local mega-store here, is selling the product for about $65.00 a bottle and had four one day, but none were left the next (pay no attention to the back-to-back day trips to the liquor store). My advice to you, find a great friend and make sure they order you a bottle from overseas for your birthday – thanks Kevin.

The bottle I have is a Swiss absinthe called La Clandestine. Switzerland also just recently allowed production of absinthe again in 2005, so, I might not have obtained the ancient authentic stuff I was looking for, but either way, the thujone regulations are going to be an issue. I knew how to serve absinthe, for whatever reason, and thoroughly enjoyed the stuff. I think I am well on my way to having a new favorite bottle. The flavor of the absinthe was nowhere near as powerful as I envisioned it being. I guess I had this Barry Bonds Sambuca view of absinthe, but instead of spirit doped up on licorice steroids, a wonderful texture and subtle, but defined, flavor was present. Bitter, yes, but this bottle still made Campari look like the Scrooge it always was. I love smacking Tiny Tim around with a Negroni myself, yet this absinthe was a refreshingly bitter anise flavor, if that’s possible.

Aside from the taste, the appearance was definitely not what I had expected. The green fairy was not green at all and didn’t change colors like I thought it would. Apparently, not all absinthes are green. The traditional color originally appeared because of the inclusion of herbs in the production of absinthe, but today dyes are frequently used. Uncolored absinthe are called blanches, or in the case of Swiss absinthes, like this one, La Bleues. It seems that absinthe is clouded by more myths than I had initially thought, even when it comes to color.

I am glad that I finally got my hands on some authentic absinthe and gave it a try. Surprisingly, I haven’t started mixing with it yet, as I have just been trying to appreciate it independently, but I am sure some authentic Sazeracs and such are just ahead. If you haven’t tried the green/white fairy yet, you definitely need to do so. It will completely change your perspective on the spirit and you might just find a new obsession, as if you needed one more. If you live in the Houston area, come by Beavers some time in a couple of weeks, as we have plans to get some Lucid and start serving it. If the idea of trying absinthe isn’t appealing, get over here anyway and check us out! Working with new co-workers is always exciting, but meeting taking care of new guests and seeing old friends is always great too. And, with my new intentions of reaching beyond the bar more often, you’ll never know what will be waiting for you next.

Note: I don’t know very much abut absinthe, but what I have learned, I almost exclusively read over at The Wormwood Society. It is a great site, and I know I will be spending more time over there in the future. Definitely, check it out.