Absinthe casts a spell

I have actively avoided absinthe for about seven years. I was in an absinthe bar in Paris, had a thimbleful of the green stuff, then a couple of tokes on a mysterious vape given to me by two Canadian girls, and then blacked out for the rest of the evening. On reflection, I realise that absinthe may have been the scapegoat of the night, and it isn’t my enemy. A far more accurate takeaway is that Canadians are made of strong stuff, and you shouldn’t assume you can handle whatever it is they have in their refillable vapes.

Known also as la fée verte (the green fairy), absinthe was banned in France for 100 years – the ban was lifted only in 2011 – due to its alleged harmful effects. Prior to this it was a choice dram for late 19th-century arty types, including Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec and Paul Gauguin, who went as far as to note “Absinthe is the only decent drink that suits an artist”, a conclusion I’m sure you’d also come to if your roommate and drinking buddy was Vincent van Gogh.

Some believe the word stems from the Greek apsínthion, which means wormwood (the spirit’s notable botanical), but can also mean “undrinkable” in historial dialects. Its abv sits between 45 and 75%, but can sometimes rise higher. It’s anise-flavoured, like ouzo or pastis, with fennel and many other medicinal herbs and flowers joining the wormwood. I feel “medicinal” is the key word here: like fernet, it is an acquired taste, and it has an eerie green glow. To compare it to something nuclear or sciency feels done and obvious, but that really is the first image that springs to mind – this drink would look at home on the box of a child’s lab kit, or seeping from something in a Ridley Scott film.

Like many storied drinks, it’s going through a modern revival. An atmospheric place to enjoy it is the fabulously camp Last Tuesday Society, which is on Mare Street in Hackney, London. The site is also home to the Viktor Wynd Museum, which is a funky, weird collection of objets (think skeletons of fairies, quite a lot of taxidermy), and there’s also the Absinthe Parlour, where they have a happy hour from 3pm to 6pm.

The menu gently nudges absinthe into more modern drink trends: the martini fascination is observed, with a London Absintini served at -13C. The bottle of choice is Devil’s Botany London Absinthe (produced crystal clear at 45% abv with principals that more closely mirror a London dry gin), and it’s served with some white vermouth and an olive.

Devil’s Botany Absinthe Regalis more closely represents what we know absinthe to be: shocking green and 66%, inspired by a 300-year-old London apothecary recipe. This spirit can be enjoyed from a traditional absinthe fountain, held up by a silver figurine, with little taps to dispense water into your 25ml serve.

Last Tuesday Society also pours a rotating house absinthe, which they distill with Devil’s Botany to make something more heady and intense. It’s drawn from a bourbon barrel and finished with an imperial stout, and it’s intense and toasty. Best sipped from a neat little glass. Next to a taxidermied lion, obviously.

Prop styling Alexander Breeze; drink styling Tara Garnell. Absinthe fountain courtesy of Devil’s Botany Distillery 16a Heybridge Way E10 7NQ www.devilsbotany.com