July 04, 2001

House of Versinthe (Aix-en-Provence)

Posted by Ian at 06:14 PM | Comments (0)

I had arranged to meet Phil at a restaurant overlooking Mount St Victoire in the small village of Venelles, ten miles north of Aix-en-Provence. I was driving from Antibes and Phil was arriving from Marseilles where he had been visiting his mother. I reckoned on a 90 minute dash along the autoroute and was doing fine when Phil phoned to say that he was at the restaurant and it was closed on Mondays. In the confusion of arranging an alternative rendezvous and negotiating the Peage at Aix I managed to take a wrong turning and ended up heading towards Marseilles. If any of you have driven on French roads you will be aware of two habits designed to confuse the foreigner. One is to only include the sign posts to your destination on every third or fourth way marker and the second is to make up for this by putting all the left over signs on posts at the roundabouts so that the sheer choice of destinations is overwhelming. As a result I arrived late but my stress was relieved by the sight of the vintage Pernod bottle in Phil's bag. After a quick lunch we drove to the distillery of Liquoristerie de Provence who make Versinthe. The distillery was definitely artisnal, it resembled one of the many small wineries that dot the landscape around that part of Provence, lying in the shade of some plane trees by the side of the main road out of Venelles.

Phil had brought along some fountains, spoons and glasses which were going into my collection and these were brought out and displayed on the tasting room counter to the great interest of the back office staff and occasional customer that wandered in. We were met by Pascale, the president of the company and his distiller who were clearly absinthe enthusiasts. A previous career in the perfume industry gave them valuable experience in distilling fragile essences. Phil produced his bottle of Pernod and poured a measure into a Pontarlier glass, it was the 'feuille mort' colour that is characteristic of an old naturally coloured absinthe. There was much sniffing and swirling before water was added to reveal a subtle louche and the release of more delicate odours from the glass. We drank without sugar so as not to mask the flavours and smiles all round proclaimed it to be good. However the distiller thought that it was slightly oxidised, and after the 100 years it had spent in the bottle I suppose he might have been right. He then produced a bottle of Tarragona Pernod circa 1960 which he poured into another glass. This was of a lower alcoholic strength (as stated on the label) and seemed to have lost much of its character. The distiller clearly only considered it a curiosity as he spat it out after tasting (no one had done that with Phil's sample - in fact I was eyeing the still quite full glass and thinking about the drive home).

Of course we then tasted the Versinthe which I have to say was not totally overwhelmed by such prestigious company. I tasted it neat and it came across like Chartreuse, complex and well assembled with the components in harmony. It has up to 20 different herbs in it so its pastis heritage clearly shows but it does contain A. absinthium (not the US version) and it is coloured naturally although only bottled at 45%. Sadly I didn't get to taste the European version along side of the US version (which contains Mugwort as a substitute for absinthium). The louche was intense, due to the dose of star anise that Versinthe contains, similar to that of La Fée. Pascale is very proud of the natural colouring used in his absinthe and brought out bottles of Oxygénée and Absente which he derided as artificial and confected. I also find that I am not such a great fan of Oxygénée as I was - a case of a 'Jaded' palate perhaps? I asked why Versinthe was not bottled at 65% or 72% if authenticity was the name of the game. The answer was interesting. Pascale said that to put out a drink with such a high alcohol content was sending the wrong message to consumers and playing into the hands of prohibitionists. He cited the example of the UK where the high strength of absinthe became a selling point and drinkers used it as a quick route to oblivion by drinking absinthe shooters. He considered that this market will quickly die as those interested in a drug-like experience will abandon absinthe in favour of more reliable sources of altered states. To make absinthe fashionable and popular in France he says it will have to be around 45%, ie no stronger than pastis or other spirit aperitifs. He seemed convinced that at 45% it was not missing out on anything that would be present at 65% - other than a significant duty and tax burden, which he says would also be a barrier to sales in France. (This goes against the thinking of German absinthe producers - but that is a story for another time)

Next on the menu was a tour around the distillery, in fact two smallish rooms with a still not much larger than some bootleg stills I have seen, but of a curious design which puzzled me until the explanation made everything clear. The first room contained hoppers of dried herbs, mostly labeled with their actual names but some with intriguing labels such as 'gamma'. In the centre of this room was a maceration tank where the herbs were steeped in alcohol for up to two weeks before being pressed to extract the oils. Then it was over to the still, and I apologize for the lack of pictures which is not due to secrecy at the distillery but to the fact that I left my camera in Antibes and Phil wasn't as interested in the technicalities of distillation as I was. The reason behind the curious design is that Versinthe is made by partial vacuum distillation so that the charge is only heated to 50 degrees, this preserves the delicate flavour compounds and bouquet and ensures that the herbs are not burned. Such a process would come as second nature to a perfume chemist.

It was an interesting visit and I would have liked to stay longer to discuss the process with the distiller but my wife Deirdre phoned to say that far from spending the day relaxing by the pool as she had hoped, it had rained since I left and she was having a terrible boring time indoors. And so, looking guiltily at the clear blue skies framing the Mount St Victoire and beginning to realise why Cezanne had spent so much time painting it, I bade my farewells, put Serge Gainsborough on the car stereo and pointed ma voiture for Antibes.