Absinthe lovers are freaks. And it's got nothing to do with
the chemical makeup of the spirit. I went to a launch event for
Lucid, the "first genuine
Absinthe made with real grande wormwood legally available in the U.S. in more than 95 years." Absinthe was banned in the early 1900s, ostensibly
because of its toxic effects, which were blamed on the wormwood, and more
specifically a chemical in the herb called thujone. More likely culprits were
the adulterants added to poor-quality and imitation Absinthes, methanol from
badly made spirit, and of course drinking too darn much of it. Lucid is legal
because it has no thujone, or perhaps very little of it depending on who you
believe. Blogging Absinthe fans have spilled endless bits and bytes debating
whether Absinthe without thujone is Absinthe, but Lucid probably wasn't made
for people who are willing to distill macerations of wormwood, anise, fennel,
angelica, veronica, and other herbs and spices at home. I compared Lucid
(prepared traditionall—ice cold water dripped slowly into the spirit; I took a
pass on the sugar cube—and also in a Sazerac variant based on a Gary Regan
recipe that is made with Cognac, Combier Triple Sec, and Peychaud's bitters,
just FYI) to an Absinthe from France called Jade PF 1901. I preferred the latter,
which was much herbier and less sweet, but others preferred the Lucid. I didn't
drink enough of either to hallucinate (my preference is for a slight buzz over
loss of bodily function), and I can't say that I found anything unusual about
the high, although my tongue definitely was tingly—the same way licorice can
make it feel. I'll probably get slammed by the true fanatics, but even with
Lucid's goofy bottle and lack of thujone, isn't it better to have the door to
Absinthe open again? Who knows what delights will pass through that door in
days to come?
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