For more than a century, absinthe has faced significant hurdles in the United States.
It was initially an elixir and anti-malarial. The French began to fully embrace this wormwood- and anise-forward spirit in the 1860s and 1870s. The phylloxera aphid had plagued vineyards and decimated the wine supply, yet drinkers didn’t fully adjust their consumption levels for a drink that could reach 70 percent ABV. Concerns about widespread intoxication exploded. Cheaply made, adulterated absinthes also showed up, and those—theoretically—may have led to the hallucinatory effect that came to be associated with all absinthes.
Governments and French winemakers looking to woo drinkers back helped to fuel the anti-absinthe propaganda, and the beginning of the 20th century saw it banned in multiple countries. The United States outlawed absinthe in 1912 and didn’t allow it again until 2007. Misconceptions that absinthe is illegal and dangerous have lingered stubbornly, as has a common American distaste for anise-centric flavors.
However, with a little bit of education, a handful of devoted North American distillers, bartenders, and enthusiasts are finally helping consumers explore a time-honored but new-to-them drink.
Set for a Renaissance
Bars have been introducing patrons to the flavors of absinthe, its back story, and the facts of its legality and safety. Drink preferences have shifted toward bolder flavors and an appreciation for traditional spirits—the current success of agave spirits, whiskey, and amaro sets a ready stage for absinthe.
Absinthe meet-up groups and events help its culture blossom, too. At Bedroom 6, an invite-only experience in New York and Los Angeles, people learn about and enjoy absinthe via its historic service method—louched with water dripping slowly from an elegant fountain, over sugar cubes that seep into the absinthe glass through slotted spoons. Founder Rhys Osborne explains that the ritual appeals to Gen Z drinkers, who want more of a mindful imbibing experience.
In New Orleans, meanwhile, the Old Absinthe House has served absinthe for more than 150 years—even during Prohibition and the absinthe ban—and absinthe sales have always been steady there. Lately, however, bar manager Erin Aubert says they have trouble keeping even their most expensive absinthes in stock.
A small number of American distilleries have been producing absinthe since the ban lifted in 2007, motivated by the pursuit of such a historical drink and by personal passion:
- Nate Newbrough, head distiller at Great Lakes Distillery in Milwaukee, says he makes absinthe because he likes it in cocktails.
- At Philadelphia Distilling, director of operations Aaron Selya points out the connection to absinthe for gin makers: Both are expressions of botanicals; gin demands balance among juniper and other botanicals, absinthe among wormwood, anise, fennel, and others.
- In Marlboro, New York, Stoutridge Distillery & Winery co-owner Stephen Osborn takes it one step further in relating similar processes and ingredients. Absinthe-making “is the highest expression of winemaking I know of,” he says. “Winemaking to distillate quality leads to ‘flavor painting’—I think of spirits as flavor painting, and the light that illuminates the flavors you paint is alcohol.”
Illuminating the Options
Whether it’s a passion project, historical-research endeavor, personal spirit preference, distilling challenge, or all of the above, rising demand makes now a better time than ever to add absinthe to a distillery’s portfolio. Its production method walks a fine and fascinating line between adhering to tradition and finding unique opportunities for creative riffs.
Will you try to capture the magic of the “green fairy” that wooed French Impressionist artists by following an old recipe to the letter? Or will you push the envelope on what absinthe can be, tinkering until you find an effective way to incorporate new flavors? The essential foundation for either path is understanding the basics and your options.
There are three types of absinthe:
- Absinthe verte is the green spirit that instantly comes to mind; cheaply made absinthes in the past have been artificially colored, but true absinthe gets that hue from the botanicals’ chlorophyll.
- Absinthe blanche doesn’t get the post-distillation botanical steep for the coloring.
- Absinthe rouge gets its color from hibiscus.
Whichever type you pursue, and however much you plan to add new twists, the goal is naturally to make the best-tasting absinthe possible. The ritual of letting water drip over sugar into absinthe might be fun, but high-quality absinthe shouldn’t actually need sugar. “None of my absinthes need sugar,” says Osborn at Stoutridge. “When things start tasting bad, you make a show—when absinthe tastes bad, you put it in a fountain and pour water over sugar on pretty spoons. If I close my eyes and don’t watch any of that, am I still impressed with the flavor?”
The first decision in plotting your course toward that high-quality absinthe is your base. Most commonly, the options break down between a neutral grain spirit or a wine-based distilled spirit. You want a blank canvas for your botanicals, but one that’s extremely well-made, to help those botanicals express themselves the best they can.
At Philadelphia Distilling, Selya uses a neutral grain base, “for the same reason that we do for our gin,” he says. “We want something as clean as possible so the botanicals can shine through. The base isn’t contributing any flavor or aroma to the final product.” He adds that they are also using reverse-osmosis water, highly purified, so the water doesn’t add any flavor or aroma, either.
At winery and distillery Wollersheim in Prairie du Sac, Wisconsin, distiller and vice president of sales Tom Lenerz says they are in the middle of rethinking the production process for their Dancehall Absinthe. “Since 2015, we have been using a wheat spirit base we have been producing from local grains because we only had a limited amount of brandy wine available for distilling. About two years ago, we switched our Garden Gate Gin from this wheat base to a brandy base, and now we are looking at doing the same for Dancehall.”
Osborn has perfected his base method to a delicately balanced combination. He uses three different stills to make it: one still to create brandy, another still to create what he calls a neutral spirit from a portion of that brandy, and then a third still for flavoring.
For his Jade Liqueurs brand, T.A. Breaux—viewed by some as godfather of the absinthe revival—builds his absinthes according to a strict adherence to historical methods. He even produces them at a distillery constructed in the 1880s in Saumur, France; Gustav Eiffel was its architect. This makes perfect sense when you learn that Breaux, a research scientist, was a driving force behind the lifting of the absinthe ban.
After collecting vintage absinthes throughout the late 1990s, by 2000 he had become the first person to analyze antique absinthe using modern science. He teamed up with other researchers, published peer reviews, and successfully proved to the TTB that there was nothing dangerous about absinthe.
“What inspired me from the beginning was the fact I was in a very small club who knew what vintage absinthe tasted like,” he says. His current production methods include a custom eau-de-vie base and regionally sourced botanicals.
However, Breaux doesn’t expect exacting historical methods from every distiller. “The base spirit can come from anything, as long as it’s something that’s clean and provides a blank slate.”