Absinthe Doubs Mystique “Carte d’or”
Doubs Mystique “Carte d’or” is a superb ultra-premium absinthe distilled in century old alambics in Pontarlier, in the heart of the Doubs region of eastern France, the historical
home of absinthe. Our aim in formulating and distilling Doubs Mystique Carte d’or was simple: we wanted to make, absolutely without regard to cost or technical difficulties, the finest, most complex, most delicious absinthe possible. How well we’ve succeeded will be up to you to judge, but the feedback we’ve received from some of the most expert and demanding connoisseurs has been nothing short of outstanding. Doubs Mystique is not, unlike our Roquette 1797, an historical-recreation absinthe. It’s a modern absinthe, to please the modern palate, although one that pays homage to the recipes and methods of the past. No other modern absinthe has as extensive a herb bill – the secret, we believe, of Mystique’s richness, smoothness and remarkable complexity of aroma and flavour.
All the herbs – including of course the grande absinthe – that could be sourced from the Pontarlier region were sourced locally. Enormous effort was expended on herb selection, and preparation. The youngest distillations in the final blend are at least 6 months old, the oldest more than a year old, and this balance will be maintained in future production.
Review of Doubs Mystique in the Fee Verte Buyers Guide:
COLOUR BEFORE WATER 10/10
Bright, clear, brilliant green; very rich, very natural. Perfection.
LOUCHE ACTION 9/10
Wonderful slow louche. Strong, turbulent oil trails that swirl and balloon as each drop of water plunges a new storm of contrails through the last. Doesn’t begin clouding until nearly 1:1, and very gradually thickens to fill the glass until fully opaque near 3:1. A fantastic show with wonderful layering throughout.
COLOR AFTER WATER 10/10
Very mature, natural, semi-pale green; fully opaque with nice shading and nuance. As it should be.
AROMA 27/30
Fresh and clean, herbal and complex with only a pleasantly mild hint of a medicinal quality or alcohol.
MOUTH-FEEL 10/10
Excellent. A smooth, rich, creamy numbness that all hits at once in a perfectly balanced harmony of sensations. I could drink this for the mouth feel alone.
TASTE 19/20
Almost exactly the way it smells, only better. Deep, rich, very smooth- there’s just a faint hint of bitterness, alcohol base, medicinal and herbal intensity to keep it interesting. Not too heavy nor too light, not too herbal or too sweet, not too unconventional nor too traditional, not to violent nor too bland… it’s just excellent. Each individual ingredient can be tasted with distinction, but none step on the others. If you’ll pardon the oxymoron: simply complex. Unobtrusive enough to be sipped without excessive pondering, and complex enough to dwell on if you desire to. Very refreshing. It elicits thoughts of a brisk spring day as much as a cozy Christmas evening- in other words, this one tastes good any time no matter what kind of mood you’re in, it will adapt. Fantastic.
OVERALL IMPRESSION 10/10
To my mouth, THIS is a perfectly “balanced” Absinthe that excels in every area. Expertly crafted; it will give as much or as little attention back as you give to it, with astounding flexibility. I cannot say enough about how much I love it. This is the first absinthe I’ve ever considered buying in bulk, and I intend to. Until further notice, this is my favorite libation bar none. I’m not sure it can be improved upon, and I won’t be disappointed if I ever discover this is as good as it gets. My only complaint is that I have six other different bottles of absinthe on my counter, and all I want to drink is this.
RESULT: Doubs Mystique Carte d’Or scores a total of 95 points out of a possible 100.
The antique Egrot alambics used for the distillation of the Doubs Mystique. The alambic at left has a capacity of 450l, the smaller one at right holds 200l. Both are jacketed with wood, and topped by a traditionally shaped chapiteau, which leads via copper piping up to a rectifying ball above the condenser.
The rectifying balls return some of the heavier vapours to the pot, while the balance condenses in the cooling coils submerged in water in the grey coloured tank below, before being collected in the horizontally mounted cylindrical distillate tanks at the bottom. It’s possible to conduct two distillations simultaneously with this apparatus. All the absinthe used in Doubs is grown in the Pontarlier region, some of it in this field just outside the town. To conserve moisture and prevent weed growth, the young plants are grown through black plastic sheeting.
The beautiful and delicate petite absinthe plant, smaller in every respect than its more famous cousin, and harder to grow, as the plant is less vigorous. Much less bitter than grand absinthe, it’s used both in the main Mystique distillation, and in the all natural chlorophyllic colouring process.
The Absinthe Ritual
All true absinthes are bitter to some degree (due to the presence of absinthin, extracted from the wormwood) and are therefore usually served with the addition of sugar. This not
only counters the bitterness, but in well made absinthes seems also to subtly improve the herbal flavour-profile of the drink. The classic French absinthe ritual involves placing a sugar cube on a flat perforated spoon, which rests on the rim of the glass containing a measure or “dose” of absinthe. Iced water is then very slowly dripped on to the sugar cube, which gradually dissolves and drips, along with the water, into the absinthe, causing the green liquor to louche (“loosh”) into an opaque opalescent white as the essential oils precipitate out of the alcoholic solution. Usually three to four parts water are added to one part of 68% absinthe. Historically, true absintheurs used to take great care in adding the water, letting it fall drop by single drop onto the sugar cube, and then watching each individual drip cut a milky swathe through the peridot-green absinthe below. Seeing the drink gradually change colour was part of its ritualistic attraction.
Notes on technique
The “ritual” is important – it’s part of the fascination of absinthe. No other drink is traditionally consumed with such a carefully calibrated kind of ceremony. It’s part of what lends absinthe its drug-like allure (for instance, one talks about the dose of absinthe in the glass, a term you’d never use with whisky or brandy). From all historical evidence, it seems that absinthe was almost always drunk like this – even the poorest working man, in the roughest bar or café, would prepare his absinthe slowly and carefully. It was seldom drunk neat (except by the kind of desperate end-stage alcoholics who might also be drinking ether or cologne); the water was always added slowly not just sloshed in; ice was never added to the glass.
The water added to the absinthe dose must always be iced, as cold as possible. Part of the advantage of using an absinthe fountain was that you could add ice cubes to the water to keep it cold, and some carafes had a chamber for ice as well. There’s a famous poem by the French author and absintheur Raoul Ponchon, where he says if you add tepid water, you might as well be drinking ….pissat d’âne / Ou du bouillon pointu – donkey piss or an enema broth. Paradoxically though, ice wasn’t added to the glass itself – the idea was to start with the drink as cool as possible, but let it slowly warm to room temperature as you drank it. Aside from historical considerations, it tastes better this way.
It’s essential to add the water as slowly as possible – drop by drop – particular at first, as the louche starts to develop. There are two reasons for this: it enables you to admire the gradual change of color, and it allows the aroma to develop slowly for maximum complexity and interest. (Technically: different essential oils precipitate out of the solution – and thus release their aromas – at different dilution percentages. By pouring very slowly you effectively get to appreciate them all individually, whereas if you just throw the water in everything gets released at once).
Holding the carafe in a relaxed and stylish way high above the glass, and letting the water slowly drip out drop for drop is harder than you’d think, and was a much admired skill at the time. Busy cafés had “absinthe professors” – professional absintheurs – who for a small sum would instruct a patron in the art, or assist him themselves. A slightly easier but also historically accurate method you might prefer is as follows:
Place a sugar cube on the spoon.
Drip a few drops of water on to the sugar cube, just enough to saturate it thoroughly. Then do nothing, just watch the sugar cube for a few minutes. It will spontaneously slowly start to collapse and drip into the glass, eventually leaving only a few drops of sugared water on the spoon. Then add the rest of the water in a thin stream.
Sugar isn’t essential – it’s entirely a matter of taste. In their brochures, Pernod Fils suggested their absinthe could be drunk with or without sugar. There is – or certainly was – an ingrained French predilection for sweet anise flavored drinks, cultivated from childhood with syrups and cordials. Most Belle Epoque absintheurs added at least one, sometimes two or even three sugar cubes, and some added gum syrup as well. Today we’re likely to find this far too sweet. I’d suggest using half a sugar cube to start with, and then adjusting upwards or downwards according to preference.
The correct dose of absinthe is about 30ml – just over an ounce. Add three parts water to one part absinthe and then taste. For casual drinking ( as opposed to tasting a rare bottle) you might prefer to add a little more water, bringing the ratio up to 4:1 or even to 5:1.
Overall, it’s worth taking the trouble to prepare an absinthe in the traditional way like this. The slowness and care required help put one in the right frame of mind to appreciate the subtleties of the drink, and it undoubtedly tastes better this way as well.
Origins
There is some debate amongst absinthe historians as to when exactly the traditional absinthe ritual originated. Certainly, there is no evidence that it was ever normal to drink absinthe neat, without water. Absinthe was drunk with the addition of both water and sugar from at least the 1850′s, and probably earlier. Absinthe was by no means unique in this respect – 19th century drinkers had a far sweeter tooth when it came to alcohol than we have today, and other drinks and cordials were also regularly sweetened with sugar.
They were usually served with a long cordial spoon or a kind of swizzle stick, to help dissolve the sugar. The use of a perforated spoon specifically for absinthe was a later development, which appears to have originated in the 1870′s and only became widespread in the 1880′s and 1890′s. From the 1890′s onwards, it seems, on the evidence of existing engravings and cartoons, almost all absinthes in bars and cafés were served with a perforated spoon.
Variations
A popular alternative to using crystallized sugar (une absinthe au sucre) was to add either gum syrup (une absinthe gommée) or sweet liqueur d’anis (une absinthe anisée). Neither of these versions of course required a perforated spoon.
It was perfectly acceptable to drink an absinthe without sugar (une absinthe pure), but, based on all the historical evidence this certainly wasn’t the norm, and there is no publicity material extant from any manufacturer that suggests this was the primary method – it’s always referred to, if at all, as an alternative to the sugared version.
Occasionally absinthe was drunk diluted with other lower strength alcohol – white wine (une absinthe de minuit), or cognac (Toulouse Lautrec’s speciality, un tremblement de terre). But these were very unusual methods, which always aroused special comment, usually disapproving.
Drinking neat absinthe (ie without water), certainly wasn’t usual at any stage, and was never socially acceptable. Where it is referred to, it is always in the context of alcoholism and degradation – in the same way, for instance, as we might refer to someone drinking a neat triple gin today (the equivalent in alcohol content).
A modern travesty
Today, modern absinthes are often marketed in conjunction with the so-called Bohemian absinthe ritual. This is not a traditional method, but a modern innovation inspired by the success of flaming sambuca and such like. A shot of absinthe is poured into a glass, and a teaspoonful of sugar is dipped into it. The alcohol soaked sugar is set alight and allowed to burn until it bubbles and caramelizes. The spoon of melted sugar is then plunged into the absinthe and stirred in, which usually sets the absinthe itself alight.
Ice water is then poured in, dousing the flames. This method has become increasingly popular, especially since it was shown in the film “Moulin Rouge”, but is a historical travesty, and would have horrified any Belle Epoque absintheur.
Tags: absinthe, barely legal alchohol, doub's mystique, green fairy, wormwood
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