Ever seen Moulin Rouge where the artists drink Absinthe and then Kylie Minogue dances around in a fairy costume while Ewan sings Elton John covers? That's what we did last night!
Except Kylie wasn't there, and I'm not an artist. And we weren't in France but at Nica's 320 in the Crossroads District downtown. When we ordered a round after dinner, the waitress looked at us sideways, as if we didn't look like the absinthe type. And then she gave us a knowing look, "Yeah, maybe they are kind of freaky. I bet they like mayonnaise sandwiches, too. Yummmy, mayonnaise. Wait, what was I saying?"
The Absinthe is first poured into the glasses, which are then placed under little water spouts.
A sugar cube is placed on a slotted spoon so that the water drips through it. Then it's all stirred together.
Friends we've been meaning to hang out with for six months now. If you look up the words *fun-loving* and *spontaneous* you'll find pictures of this couple. And now I bet they've been inspired by the little fairies to create, innovate, art-if-y stuff.
Absinthe is not a girly drink, and despite the added sugar, it is not sweet in the slightest. I might call it more of a tonic, filled with strong herbs like star anise. You sip this, though, rather than shoot it from small glasses before eating your bundt cake with the flower pot in the middle.
I took a lengthy sip and felt the slow burn trickle down my throat. It was quite pleasant, and I glanced over at Starr, expecting to see the aforementioned fairies floating around her head, taunting me. Unfortunately, but not sadly, only my beautiful wife stared back.
When we glanced over at our companions, however, we were rewarded with a magnificent vision -- our companions had melded into a single entity, whose unstably nebulous formed proceeded to regale us with delightfully hilarious stories. The entity seamlessly morphed from one face, voice, and consciousness to another, each telling the story from its point of view without so much as stopping for breath.
I looked back at Starr, who ignored me, transfixed by our new companion. I took another drink of the strange brew -- this time much deeper -- then closed my eyes so tight my ears rang. When I opened them again, as they pulled the scene back into focus, I observed with relief that our companions were once again themselves. The story remained as seamless as before, but no longer were they one being.
I finished the absinthe quickly after that, hoping to see something else new and incredible, but the drink held nothing more rewarding than its satisfying taste and accompanying buzz.
Yeah, I'm not sure where Ryan's story is coming from. His drink must've been extra strong because I had no visions except of the bread pudding (which is divine).
Anyway, bottoms up! Try something new when you can, y'all.