The Green Fairy

I just got back from Las Vegas, Dear Readers.  And I just gotta tell you all about one very special aspect of my trip to Sin City.

The Boyfriend and I had gone there to:

1. Celebrate his birthday in style
2. Go to some fabulous restaurants
3. Honor the memory of my mother
4. Get some sun
5. Do a little gambling (Him.)
6. Drink absinthe. (Me.)

I’m pleased to report that we accomplished everything on the list.

However it’s that sixth thing that I wanted to discuss here today.

Now if you’re like me and your favorite artist is Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, you’re bound to have run into the legend of absinthe at one time or another in your research.

(Here he is mid-way through a binge.  Quelle dommage.)

And although this painting certainly serves as a cautionary tale, I had always wanted to try it.

I had heard that it tasted like licorice.

And I LOVE licorice.

So when the Vegas trip was booked, I got out my bucket list.

There it was.

“Try absinthe.”

The Boyfriend was game.  He’s tried it and he likes it.

I did a little research and quickly discovered that Sage at Aria had an absinthe tasting menu.

But which one to chose?

TB had tried Lucid and thought it was pretty special.  After all, it is the first genuine absinthe to be made with real Grande Wormwood after the repeal of a 95 year old ban on the stuff.

(If you’re not familiar with it, here’s the lowdown. Take a look.  It’s fun to read.)

But TB wasn’t sure if I would like his choice, so we asked the barman to recommend something VERY special.

This is what he touted.  He told us that many of his customers came in especially to drink it.

La Clandestine.

Here’s the 411 on that little beauty.

What the hell?  I was ready.

“Two,” said The Boyfriend.  “And the cold water stream method, please.”

 

OMG.

YUM.

I had found my drink.

It tasted just like Good ‘n Plenty’s.

But I wasn’t drinking it just for the taste.

I wanted the out-of-the-body mind-bending experience about which I had read so much.

Did I have it?

I honestly must report that I felt no physical symptoms of any kind.

I felt perfectly normal.

And I was disappointed.

Where was that much-talked about high?  Where was the kick?  What was the point of drinking absinthe if I didn’t feel any different than usual?

But then…

The two guys from Cali sitting next to me at the bar asked me where I was from…

And I had a REAL hard time answering their question.

I knew that I knew the answer- Chicago- but somehow I needed some time to gather my thoughts.  I just couldn’t seem able to concentrate on what the heck they were saying to me.

And trying to answer this difficult question was a chore.

It was almost impossible to formulate a coherent response.

I stayed in that state  all through the great tapas dinner that followed.

Absinthe turned out just the drink that I thought it was.  It had lived up to its hype as a mind-blower of major proportions.

And as for its legendary reputation as an aphrodisiac?

Let’s just say…

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.