The Green Fairy at Doe's
In this month's "Doe's Were the Days," the fizz settles on drink innovation, and The Green Fairy pays a visit
For the past few months, Chef George Krause has been taking patrons of Doe’s Eat Place on a tour both encyclopedic and delicious—through the history of cocktails.
In the eighteen-hundreds, the drinking landscape was a veritable Eden, with methods, tools, and concoctions just begging to be invented and claimed. “I did that! Remember me forever!” shrieked Hank Appletini when his potion was well received. (Full disclosure: We cannot confirm the existence of a Mr. Hank Appletini.)
But by the turn of the century, the fizz was settling. “It was the end of the period of great invention,” said Krause. “That is, until recent years with molecular bartending and flavored vodka.”
Around this time, the cocktail—an American innovation—hopped a ship across the Atlantic. Rather, it followed traveling businessmen and students studying abroad. “The U.K. was starting to get a taste of American cocktails,” said Krause.
“In 1913, steamboat liners started producing what they called drink carts for their smoking rooms—essentially the beginning of the cocktail menu,” he continued. “They had a couple of cocktails that they knew were popular and could be made in large supply.”
Over the next decade, the cocktail menu multiplied and developed categories. Imbibers began to recognize what they liked, and the less popular or less available spirits faded into the background. London dry gin overtook the Dutch variety (genever); Bacardi swept St. Croix out of the picture.
Beyond the people’s court, nature held its sway. A blight caused by the Phylloxera aphid took a vicious toll on European vineyards, killing brandy and cognac stocks. Enter stage right, heroically and perhaps atop a bucking stallion: American whiskey.
But bourbon and rye did not enjoy a monopoly for long. Absinthe, la fée verte, or the green fairy, first twinkled into American hearts in the 1850s or ‘60s. Its anise flavor profile, paired with maraschino cherry liqueur, provided a popular and uncomplicated boost to most beverages.
“They were the pomegranate juice of their day,” laughed Krause. “[They were] thrown into every drink to improve it.”
By 1905, the public began to sip absinthe on its own. But where there’s a craze, there’s a backlash. Harvey Wiley, chemist and head of the Food and Drug Administration, said this about the trendy spirit: “Victims of absinthe are more to be pitied than those of alcohol, opium, or cocaine.”
His scornful analysis showed that absinthe poisoning resulted in delirium, hallucination, and paralysis, causing a breakdown in the drinker’s morale. Wiley’s campaign was a success: 1912 found absinthe a beverage non grata in most countries, with the exception of the U.K. and Spain. The ban lasted until 2007.
Now, class, what’s a synonym for “ban”? Injunction…embargo…what’s that at the back of the room? Did someone say “Prohibition”?
When we revisit Chef George Krause in May, he’ll take us into the unintended consequences of Wiley’s war on absinthe and the dangers of igniting public outcry. In the meantime, find a seat at Krause’s bar, where he’ll regale you with his theory about the absinthe ban, involving the jealous bourbon bigwigs and money landing in the right pockets...
Details. Details. Details.
In April, Chef George will serve the absinthe cocktail, the Bronx cocktail, and other potent concoctions from the early nineteen hundreds.
Stop by 3723 Government Street to partake. (225) 387-5331. doesbatonrouge.com.