It’s had some terrible press down the years, the poor old absinthe. Brewed with vipers, snails, swallows, roosters … little wonder people thought it might drive you mad, malignant or murderous. NOEL MURPHY attempts to set the record straight with the help of a talented Geelong distiller.
Been an awful lot of calumnies unfairly foisted on the fae green devil, or le peril vert as the French say, down the years. Hallucinogenic, poisonous, psychosis-rendering, destructive societal demon … it’s copped a worse pasting than marijuana did in the 1960s. If you heed its greatest detractors you’d think it was LSD in a glass, or worse.
Yet absinthe, a celebrated hooch of Van Gogh, Toulouse-Lautrec, Wilde, Baudelaire, Hemingway and Verlaine, has also long been viewed as France’s belle époque-evoking, mind-bending evil spirit of spirits. A libation to be delighted in as much as avoided, vilified or legislated against.
Not everyone’s perfect, of course. Fact is, absinthe’s detractors have been barking up the wrong tree for years. Wormwood, its key ingredient, contains a convulsant, thujone, blamed for absinthe’s sins. But there’s never been enough thujone in absinthe to present any such problems.
The real trouble was much more straightforward, staring them in the face, as a matter of fact. An alcohol content of 70+ per cent. The stuff kicked like a Clydesdale.
Which is why you’re meant to put water and sugar with the stuff, says Geelong’s Bob Connor, distiller of the boutique Sandy Gray Absinthe – a surprising but overdue addition to the green fairy retail offerings available to the discerning enthusiast.
His absinthe is made in the traditional French style, using the holy trinity of green anise, fennel seed and, yes, wormwood. It also makes clever use of elecampane, calamus, caraway, cardamom, wattleseed and Tasmanian pepperberry.
It is naturally coloured with melissa, hyssop and roman wormwood, which means its green lustre will fade in the sunlight, so he packages it in dark bottles. And yes, it still boasts a recoil like a 12-gauge shotgun.
But don’t let that put you off. Bob knows what he’s doing. His boutique Sandy Gray distillery, which he runs out of Speyton, Tasmania with mate Neil Gray, is a world-class operation with a rapidly-growing showcase of international gold medal awards.
Its catalogue of spirits includes artisan gins – including winter, summer and Gondwanaland varietals – single-malt whiskys, liqueurs, limoncello … and now absinthe.
If you think absinthe is strong stuff, don’t discount Bob’s Navy Strength Gin – so named because it was traditionally bottled at an alcoholic strength that would still ignite when mixed with gunpowder.
“That alcohol by volume strength was around 58 per cent,” says Bob, a broad grin across his face. “The British Navy used this test to ensure that their suppliers weren’t cheating them by supplying gin that was less than the agreed alcoholic strength.
“If it ignited, it was proof that the gin hadn’t been diluted. Thus, the word ‘proof’.”
But the proof that absinthe doesn’t kill your brain cells, just re-arranges them, perhaps lies with its referees:
“A glass of absinthe is as poetical as anything in the world. What difference is there between a glass of absinthe and a sunset?” – Oscar Wilde.
“Opaque, bitter, tongue-numbing, brain-warming, stomach-warming, idea-changing liquid alchemy … it’s supposed to rot your brain out, but I don’t believe it. It only changes the ideas.” – Ernest Hemingway.
“I sit at my door, smoking a cigarette and sipping my absinthe, and I enjoy every day without a care in the world.” – Paul Gauguin
“Let me be mad, then, by all means! Mad with the madness of absinthe, the wildest, most luxurious madness in the world! Vive la folie! Vive l’amour! Vive l’animalisme! Vive le Diable!” – Marie Corelli.
My favourite’s Hemingway, again: “Got tight on absinthe last night. Did knife tricks. Great success shooting the knife underhand into the piano.”
Might need to have a crack at that. My aim’s been terrible lately.
Bob Connor says absinthe was so popular in France in the early 1900s that after-work drinks were known as l’heure verte – the green hour. A whopping 16 million litres a year were knocked back by le francais and the drink was hugely popular in Bohemian and artistic circles.
“It was banned in various countries after a high profile murder case and pressure from temperance societies, medical authorities and the press,” he says.
“But most of the medical research has been refuted and now absinthe is available again in most countries. It was never banned in Australia but the importation of both wormwood and absinthe required a permit.”
Bob’s Sandy Gray distillery started simply enough. Two musician mates mucking about in a shed, taking their time to fill a few barrels with the produce of a tiny still. Their enterprise hasn’t been driven by any desire for money but rather by a pursuit of excellence.
And they’re doing it in the name of Neil Gray’s late old man, Sandy, a Scottish doctor who emigrated to Tasmania in the 1960s.
The Green Fairy. Neil Gray (left) and Bob Connor.
“Our Artisan Small Batch Gin has been a consistent performer at the San Francisco World Spirit Competition over the last four years,” says Bob. “It has consistently outpointed many of the larger, internationally owned distilleries.
Bob’s a bloke of many and varied talents. He arrived in Geelong in 1996 to manage the Irish Murphy’s pub that superseded the old Argyle Hotel. A singer-songwriter handy on guitar, bass and mandolin, he quickly became a regular on local stages.
He’s also a skilled luthier, who’s produced a range of highly sought guitars, and a teacher in computer systems and IoT at Gordon Institute of TAFE.
So why absinthe?
“If you have ever tried a finely crafted Sazerac, you will understand the allure of absinthe,” Bob says. “And, basically, because of the mystique that surrounds it. After reading about its history and how much misinformation was being published about it, I thought, why not?”
And how hard is it to make?
“Essentially, it’s the same process as gin, just using different botanicals.”
Sandy Gray has brought Aussie botanicals into the equation but it seems they’re rather tempered compared to some past efforts.
Says Bob: “I came across a very old absinthe recipe, purportedly from the 16th century, which had an amazing array of ingredients. I ended up leaving out the vipers, swallows, roosters and snails and working on something a little more conventional.”
Good to hear but the big absinthe question remains: Will it improve my knife throwing?
“Absolutely not,’’ our distiller sadly informs me.
“After three of these you won’t know which vision to aim at.”
This article appeared in the 2023-24 summer edition of Geelong and Surf Coast Living magazine.
