Absinthe Rituals
The Historical Swiss and French Absinthe Ritual

The Absinthe Pure

Most people believe this Absinthe Ritual is the only proper way to prepare absinthe. You begin with about one ounce of absinthe in a clear glass. From a carafe or pitcher containing ice-cold water, you very slowly pour a thin bead of water into the absinthe. The absinthe, which began as clear or clear with a green tint, will gradually turn a milky white or milky green, as the amount of water in the glass increases. This will produce the quintessential absinthe cocktail, the Absinthe Pure. The ratio of absinthe to water is about 1:4. From this simple beginning opens up the fascinating world of Absinthe Ritual. 

The thin bead of water, delivered slowly, is essential to fully enjoy the transformation of the liquid from clear to cloudy. And if the water is ice-cold, your vessel may contain ice, which must be restrained in the vessel lest it fall out and splash in your glass.

To elevate the level of your Absinthe Ritual, consider investing in a brouille-absinthe or absinthe fountain. These devices meter out the water in thin rivulets. The brouille is placed directly on the glass and has a receptacle from which the water is released. The absinthe fountain has a larger receptacle and spigots from which water release can be controlled down to the drop.

The Absinthe au Sucre, Introducing The Absinthe Spoon

The Absinthe au Sucre is simply an Absinthe Pure with the addition of sugar. You could just add a spoonful of sugar, but that wouldn’t be much fun. Enter the absinthe spoon, essentially a flat “spoon” with holes in it that looks more like a pie server than a spoon. There are many designs to choose from. After you have poured the shot of absinthe into the glass, you place the absinthe spoon on the glass. Then you put a sugar cube on the absinthe spoon, suspended over the absinthe. You pour a thin rivulet of ice-cold water over the sugar and it dissolves into the absinthe, which then turns cloudy. The trouble with modern sugar cubes (at least in the US) is that they are made of granulated sugar that has rather large crystals and doesn’t dissolve easily.  

The louche, that special cloudiness that develops when water is added to absinthe, is probably the coolest part of the Absinthe Ritual. Louche means cloudy or murky in French. When water is added to clear absinthe (most notably the Swiss La Bleus), the drink turns milky white, like Spanish anis, Greek ouzo, or Lebanese arak. The louche of green absinthes is a lovely milky opal. I don’t know about the louche of red, purple or black absinthe because I think they’re silly novelties and don’t bother with them.

The components of absinthe responsible for the louche are anis, fennel, and star anise. In the pure absinthe, their essential oils remain in suspension, that is, dissolved in the absinthe’s alcohol. As water is added to the absinthe, the ratio of water to alcohol increases until the essential oils fall out of suspension and become cloudy. Other herbs and spices that louche are kava, osha, lomatium, and myrrh to name a few.

The Czech Absinth Fire Ritual, a.k.a. The Modern or Bohemian Absinth Ritual

Notice that I dropped the e in absinth. This ritual originated in Prague in the 1990’s, and they spell it absinth. I’ve noticed that people who are really into absinthe, absinthe aficionados called absintheurs, those who are into the history and lore of absinthe, absolutely despise the Czech Absinthe Fire Ritual. First, I’ll describe the Czech Absinthe Fire Ritual, and then discuss my take on it.

This ritual picks up where you place a sugar cube on the absinthe spoon for an Absinthe au Sucre. You can either dip the sugar cube into the absinthe or squirt a dropper of pure alcohol onto it. You then place the sugar cube on the absinthe spoon and put flame to it. The flame first has some yellow and orange in it, then settles into a blue glow as the sugar melts and drips into the glass. Just as the flame goes out, while the sugar is still gooey, you pour water over it and it dissolves into the absinthe.

My Take On The Czech Absinth Fire Ritual

Let me preface this discussion by saying that my favorite way to drink absinthe is neat (just like Alfred Jarry), followed by an absinthe pure, and then an absinthe au sucre.

I know that the Fire Ritual is not a historically accurate way to drink absinthe. But for all those who hate the Fire Ritual, let me tell you, it’s like hip-hop music. It isn’t going away, no matter how much you dislike it. It isn’t. Perhaps a more effective tack would be to distinguish the two Rituals, rather than saying that one is false and not real. And in fact, now that I think of it, the absinth fire ritual has become historically accurate. For something to become history, it first has to exist and time has to pass. Sooooo……dig it, for the late 20th and early 21st centuries, the Czech Absinth Fire Ritual, or whatever you want to call it, is, dear friends, historically accurate.

As far as catching the absinthe in your glass on fire, that wouldn’t be a good idea. The idea is to drink the alcohol. To let it burn would be alcohol abuse and inexcusable. I’ve rarely seen absinthe in a glass catch fire while the sugar cube is ablaze. I keep a drink coaster handy and if the absinthe catches on fire I simply remove the spoon and put the coaster on the glass, thus extinguishing the flame. Don’t let the absinthe burn because it will heat the liquid and possibly crack the glass. 

From my experience, a full dropper of pure alcohol from a four-ounce (120 ml) bottle can bring a sugar cube to an advanced stage of caramelization. This is too much, since the dark brown will give off bitter flavors. A very light brown, however, a hard crack or light caramelization perhaps, is quite tasty. One piece of advice is to pour water over the cube just as the flame goes out because once the sugar cools it becomes a piece of hard candy and it won’t dissolve into the drink.

I’ve got no problem with some absinthe mavens hating the Absinthe Fire Ritual. I firmly believe in Crowley’s maxim “Do what thou wilt is the whole of the law,” with the understanding that “what thou does doesn’t harm nobody without their consent.” But the argument that the Absinth Fire Ritual would disgust Belle Époque absintheurs gives me pause. Having read up on Alfred Jarry, I find it hard to believe he wouldn’t be amused by “that which burns.” Likewise, would any other iconoclasts of the bellisima epoca Absinthe Era such as Verlaine, Rimbaud, Zola, Modigliani, or Picasso, really get bent over it? I just can’t bring myself to believe that they would act like panty-waisted crybabies and stomp their feet over flaming sugar cubes. I suspect they would think it was cool. Time marches onward, dear brothers and sisters! If you really want to bring absinthe into the 21st century, embrace the Absinth Fire Ritual. Sure, its inauspicious birth and association with nasty Czech absinthe detract from its full glory. So rather than denigrate it like a filthy little stepchild, pull it out of the gutter and wash it off. It’s a lot of fun and it’s not going away.