If you have picked up the recent issue of Edible Austin magazine, you may have noticed my article on Absinthe. If you know anything about absinthe, you may have noticed that I refer to Absinthe's meteoric rise in the 18th century. By 18th century, I meant 1800s. Give or take a century, you know, no big deal. There is an excellent recipe at the end for a Corpse Reviver variation that I am really excited about because it uses absinthe as a co-base spirit, instead of the usual drops and rinses, and is palatable to absinthe fans and foes alike. Tenneyson is the brand called for, and for transparency's sake I should disclose that I do work for Tenneyson, and this will not be the last time you see me advocate on its behalf.)
CORPSE REVIVER 2011
¾ oz. Tenneyson absinthe
¾ oz. St–Germain
¾ oz. fresh-squeezed lemon juice
¾ oz. Paula’s Texas Orange
Shake the ingredients with ice to chill. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.
Photo by Jenna Noel for Edible Austin. Please, no smack-talking about why the sugar cube would be atop an already-louched absinthe. Artistic liberties were taken here.
In other news, absinthe's name is still getting dragged through the mud. Though modern science has refuted the junk research and bogus claims that originally led to absinthe's Prohibition, some people, even some in the absinthe industry, continue to roll out the same tired tropes--that absinthe is dangerous, that it makes you hallucinate, etc. Consider the case of Four Loko, the carbonated wonder that reportedly had as much caffeine as a cup of coffee and as much alcohol as three beers, which was taken off shelves last year for being a so-called "blackout in a can", and for appealing to underage drinkers. (Newsflash--all booze appeals to underage drinkers, some just more so than others. It's booze, whether it's high-end scotch, Four Loko, or communion wine. I had a roommate in my immediate post-high school years who got nasty drunk on a bottle of cooking Marsala one night and went rolling around the floor naked in the "satellite dish" portion of a papasan chair)
Now there is a lawsuit pending in southern California alleging that, among other things, Four Loko contained wormwood, "the main ingredient in absinthe." First of all, I don't think the complainants meant to imply that like absinthe, Four Loko is a classic artisanal spirit, rooted in Europe's early herbal medicine traditions and enjoyed by legendary members of Belle Epoque society. I think they mean to imply that it will make you go cray-cray and rip off your ear like Van Gogh. Secondly, wormwood is not the "main ingredient" in absinthe--were that the case, absinthe would have the consistency of a pemican bar. The main ingredient is alcohol/water, not that it matters to the louchebags who are trying to disparage Four Loko.
I'm going to form an organization to defend Absinthe's good name. It will be called E.A.R. (End Absinthe Rebuke)
