The House of Wormwood

Absinthe Duplais Verte

Country of origin: Switzerland
Distillery: Matter Luginbühl
LCBO price: Not available through LCBO.
Neat colour: A pale emerald. This is the perfect theatrical colour for asinthe which, while beautiful to the eye, does make me wonder how it got that way.
Neat aroma: Sadly, I stuck my nose in the glass at just the wrong angle and got a waft of alcohol which set my right nostril on fire, figuratively speaking. After that settled down, I noticed a sweet, herbal smell. Strong anise, but not overpowering. Beautifully balanced.
Neat taste: Instantly warm. Strong anise with the intake of breath, with the attendant wormwood bitterness. Tastes a little sweet. I may regret using a sugar cube.
Louched colour: The first few drops of water brought a pair of trails. The louche itself is a prominent pale olive with the usual opalescence. Not quite glowing, but beautiful.
Louched aroma: No alcohol smell, and the herbs are all still present. The mere scent of this makes my mouth water.
Louched taste: Divine and floral, like taking a sip from a stream in Elysium, yet distinctly earthy. The bitterness is present, but not opressive. Instead, it works in harmony with the herbal flavours. Exquisite!

Vinnie approves. Profusely.

In my idle moments, when I am not working on art or something blog-related, I browse for two things: Victorian-era clothing and absinthe. The name Duplais has come up repeatedly in my searches for new absinthes to try and I was recently gifted by a friend with a small bottle of their verte absinthe, along with a few other morsels.

So this is what good absinthe tastes like in the rest of the world, eh? It’s utterly refreshing and, even though its flavour is potent, I would say it stops well-short of being robust, which is a good thing in this case. It’s also not surprising when coming from the same distillery that makes Mansinthe. Instead it presents a delicious yet not-so-delicate jewel in the glass. It’s a down-to-earth work of art.

The buzz from it sits beautifully at the base of the skull. It almost feels as though it’s cradling my cerebellum in a way. This is one of those absinthes that you drink when you make art or engage in philosophical discourse, provided you don’t drink so much of it that your hands become useless and your tongue becomes clumsy. In fact, I think once this review is done, I’m going to throw on some Naked City and work on one of my digital paintings.

Vinnie doesn’t just approve. Vinnie wants to have the distiller’s babies.

Versinthe Absinthe

Country of origin: France
Distillery: Not sure.
LCBO price: Approx. $50 from Vintages when available
Neat colour: A luminescent gold with a hint of green.
Neat aroma: A profound presence of anise which overpowers all. The alcohol smell is felt rather than scented. No wormwood detectable.
Neat taste: Surprising. Very little sting to it. The anise is very present, though the wormwood is an overly-prominent contender. Most noticeable (besides the anise) is the intense sweetness of it. Blatantly and excessively sweetened. I’m thinking I should forego the sugar cube, but protocol’s protocol.
Louched colour: The first few drops through the spoon created beautiful milky swirls. Eventually it settled down into an opalescent greenish yellow.
Louched aroma: The water seems to bring out that herbal smell. Anise is barely there, but alcohol smell is gone.
Louched taste: Definitely could do without the sugar cube. The anise is barely there at all, but that bitter herbal flavour is very prominent in the finish. It almost seems as though it’s a delivery system for sugar and bitterness.

Vinnie is unimpressed not only with the absinthe, but with the author's photographic skills.

When I began my absinthe sojourn, this was one of the few brand names I knew about, and that only for the anise liqueur, which at the time was sans wormwood. When I was presented with this bottle, I was delighted to discover that this was made with actual wormwood, albeit the wrong part of the plant.

Even though it louches beautifully, I find it rather unremarkable. The intense wormwood flavour is grossly out of proportion. It’s not unlike what I imagine the rant of a politically-embittered old man would taste like. The buzz does sit rather prominently in the head, but there’s something a bit belligerent about this, almost as though it’s a kid on the playground trying to pick on the taller kids to prove himself.

In short, this is an absinthe when there’s nothing else in the bar. Since it’s not fair to say that Vinnie disapproves outright, yet cannot justifiably give it his approval, i am going to expand the ratings a bit. Therefore, Vinnie is unimpressed.

Hapsburg Absinthe Traditional

Country of origin: United Kingdom
Distillery: Not sure.
LCBO price: Not available from LCBO
Neat colour: An unearthly emerald. I note that the label indicates “colour” has been added. It does, indeed, look artificial. It is, however, a perfect emerald.
Neat aroma: There’s a high alcohol content to the scent that almost overpowers everything else. A slight hint of anise, but I can’t quite pick out the wormwood. This kind of worries me.
Neat taste: Wow, there’s the anise and the wormwood. If it wasn’t for the sting of the alcohol, one could almost drink it neat. Very sweet.
Louched colour: No louche. It just turns a pale translucent jade. There are some oily swirls, but no opalescence. This does not bode well.
Louched aroma: It bears a much more pleasent smell after the water. The alcohol smell is gone and the anise lingers. I can’t detect much else, however.
Louched taste: How clever. How very clever. The taste is perfect. The wormwood bitterness is there, the anise is an accent, instead of an overpowering presence and the wormwood.

Fist off, a hearty thank you to Charlotte and the folks at Hapsburg for providing me with this playful sample. I am in your debt.

Hapsburg’s website, when you visit it, gives you the impression they are the rock stars of absinthe. That they know their stuff and proffer it with the same flippancy as a long-haired, leather glad gigolo onstage to a throng of teenage girls.

Indeed, when you go through the motions and see the absence of a louche, it is a trifle disconcerting to the absintheur who expects that. One raises the glass with a certain expectation of disappointment until it touches the tongue.

Hapsburg is an assassin.

The feel of this creeps in at the base of the skull, almost like the swelling of arousal. It’s a strong, enlivening lift, instead of one that simply melts the world around you. This absinthe makes me wonder if the true measure of an absinthe isn’t its louche, but how it sits in the head and in the heart.

It is interesting to note that, in addition to the traditional green, they also have red and black absinthes. I wonder if they are as nefariously exquisite as this one is.

In spite of the absence of photo, Vinnie definitely approves.

Lucid Absinthe Supérieure

Country of origin: France
Distillery: Viridian Spirits LLC
LCBO price: Not available from LCBO
Neat colour: Almost no green at all. Very clear, which makes me a little nervous, to be honest.
Neat aroma: Sweet and floral, almost has smoky hints of chocolate.
Neat taste: Sweet and spicy. Lots of alcohol burn. Nice herbal aftertaste.
Louched colour: Louche comes on like a storm, starting in the center and swelling outward preceeded by lovely, chaotic waves of oils swirls.
Louched aroma: No surprises. Alcohol traces are gone, but still has the floral and smoky aspects it has when neat.
Louched taste: The water, in normal proportion, almost dilutes it too much. Flavour has potent anise in it and a lingering, subtly bitter aftertaste. Next time, I will mix it a little stronger.

Vinnie Approves.

Someone told me ages ago that you could get Lucid from the duty-free at the border. I never bothered to go hunting for it, but when I managed to hop across the border, I couldn’t pass up the chance to grab a bottle.

All in all, I would say it was worth the wait. Of the absinthes I have tried, it has one of the most distinctive aromas and flavour. It’s still got the wormwood harshness, but it’s got something else giving it a floral twist. I was actually susprised at how sweet it was. One could almost get away with drinking it neat, if it weren’t for the fact that the ritual is part of what makes the absinthe experience for me.

Like so many of its cousins, Lucid has a surprisingly, nicely-blended flavour, which serves to enhance the uniqueness. I must admit, the paleness of it’s green tinge made me a little nervous, at first. It’s almost water-clear, and that, in my experience, makes for an alcohol experience that’s more agonizing than anything else. Nevertheless, I found the overall experience of Lucid to be refreshing and delightful. As noted above, however, I found it’s mix with the normal proportions to be a little watered-down (I usually fill the reservoir of my Pontarlier glass a bit over its rim, then add the water). I think a stronger mix should remedy that.

In the end, Vinnie approves.