Telegraph (London) 21 July 2001
After 80 years the real absinthe is back in France 
(Filed: 21/07/2001) 
TWO days after war broke out in August 1914 the bells of Pontarlier
tolled in mourning. 
They were not ringing in anticipation of the coming slaughter but to
mark a more immediate tragedy - the death of absinthe.
The hostilities gave the French government the excuse they needed to bow
to the pressure of campaigners and ban a drink that had brought
inspiration and joy, madness and ruin to generations of drinkers.
Within a year most of the 25 distilleries in the garrison town perched
on a plateau near the Swiss border had closed at a cost of thousands of
jobs, and the broad acres of aromatic herbs stretching all around were
replanted with other crops.
The memory of the drink has never faded, however. Now, nearly 80 years
later, the "Green Fairy" as it was known to its admirers is returning
thanks to a change in the law. 
Armand Guy was one of the main manufacturers of Pontarlier absinthe. His
great - grandson Franois is resurrecting the tradition. 
In a small distillery which, as the old-time abolitionists would no
doubt have observed, is a short walk from the mental hospital,
100-year-old alembics are dribbling the fabled liquor into copper vats.
"This is the real thing," said Franois, 37, dashing water into a slug of
the stuff and observing the slow change of colour from white, to blue to
faint, opalescent green.
"Even if it's not as strong as before. One glass was the equivalent of
six other liqueurs and people would drink seven or eight."
The effects were potentially devastating. Consumers - who included poets
such as Baudelaire and Verlaine and the artists Toulouse-Lautrec and
Modigliani - could suffer delirium and epileptic fits.
The newspaper Le Matin, which campaigned to outlaw the drink, circulated
a petition signed by thousands which stated: "Everywhere the green Hydra
is found there is madness and crime."
Commercial manufacturers promoted absinthe as a health drink and blamed
illegal distillers for its bad name. They regarded the ban as a low
trick devised by wine growers who didn't like the competition. 
The toxic element in the absinthe plant is the thuyone molecule, the
same substance that is found in cannabis. But it also gives the drink
its distinct flavour.
The challenge has been to lower the content to safe levels while
maintaining the flavour - a feat which M Guy is confident he has
achieved.
"There is another product which calls itself absinthe," he said,
referring to a Czech drink on sale in Britain. "But it's made by
maceration not by distillation. It hardly has any flavour at all."
To prove it he offered a glass of something that looked and tasted like
peppermint mouthwash. His absinthe - which at 45 degrees is much lighter
than the original - was entirely different. 
To the ignorant palate it tastes like pastis with a herby layer of
flavour - pleasant, but hardly hallucinogenic. 
Production will get into full swing in the autumn after the absinthe
growing in a field outside town is harvested, with the first bottles
appearing in the shops at Christmas.
M Guy said: "The local people are very excited. They are very loyal to
their local products and many have offered to pick the crop by hand." 
The memory of absinthe is remarkably green. People still tell the story
of the day in 1901 when one of the biggest distilleries in town caught
fire. 
Fearing an explosion, a quick-witted worker opened the vats. The river
Doubs ran green for hours and the soldiers from the garrison rushed to
the water's edge to lower their helmets and drink their fill.
"This drink is something special," said Franois, who hopes to get
production up to 10,000 litres a year before long.
"It's something unique that belongs to the tradition of this place. I
want to rescue its bad reputation and show the world that it is possible
to enjoy it without coming to any harm."