|By Grimbergen on Thursday, April 19, 2001 - 08:37 pm: Edit|
Yup Don, you nailed that one...and it was your line.
|By Don_Walsh on Thursday, April 19, 2001 - 07:58 pm: Edit|
Well, it sounds like the sheep-dip description of Neto was borne out, am I wrong? I think I originated that line...
|By Grimbergen on Thursday, April 19, 2001 - 04:12 pm: Edit|
Shit! sorry, I completely forgot about it. Had a busy couple weeks. I'll try to get to it this weekend.
|By Perruche_Verte on Thursday, April 19, 2001 - 04:02 pm: Edit|
So whatever happened to your Camargo story, Grim?
I, for one, wanted to read the ending...
|By Grimbergen on Wednesday, March 28, 2001 - 07:23 pm: Edit|
|By Grimbergen on Wednesday, March 28, 2001 - 07:22 pm: Edit|
In the stores the neto sell for around $35.
|By Grimbergen on Wednesday, March 28, 2001 - 07:21 pm: Edit|
My next encounter with absinthe was a bar called L'Absinthe. This place appears to me in cahoots with the importers of Neto Costa. Behind the bar there are probably a good hundred bottles of Neto lined up. It is a pretty big place, and as I am walking in I can't see anyone drinking absinthe. After looking at the menu I realize that they are all drinking frufru cocktails made with absinthe. A friend of mine orders the absinthe and champagne, and another friend gets the "traditional." Being afraid of what they might consider traditional, I get mine on the rocks. the champagne cocktail arrives already prepared. The waiter brings 2 glasses filled with ice. They are shaped like pint glasses but appear to hold closer to 12 ounces. He pours an enormous measure of absinthe in my glass. He then place a repro spoon over my friends glass, places a green sugar cube on top, and quickly pours a large dose of absinthe over the sugar cube without dissolving it at all. He then unceremoniously dumped the sugar cube in the glass, placed a bottle of water on the table and walks off with the spoon. Their version of the tradition somehow felt a little empty, especially considering that the Neto will not louche under any condition. Even with a tumbler full of ice, my drink didn't louche.
As I look at the color now, it is a light mildly florescent green, not unappealing at all. Similar to Mari Mayans if but less florescent and without the yellowish tint. The nose: alcohol with the slightest hint of anis. The alcohol content, unlike the Portuguese version, is 53.5% (the legal limit under Brazilian law is 54%). There is a bit of sweetness, which is almost certainly from sugar being added (as opposed to sweetness from anis or star anis). Just like the smell, the anis is very light. There is a fair amount of bitterness which stands out due to the lack of other flavors. A very unremarkable product. Much closer to the czechs than the spanish. There is little doubt why the customers prefer to drink their absinthe in cocktails.
My friends ordered another round, and I sat there nursing my drink, not wanting to be unsociable.
After that we drove to a club in search of a little action. My friend spies 2 unopened bottles of Absinto Camargo behind the bar. After shouting 'absinto' at the top of our lungs several times, the bar tender pours 2 drinks. Again, a huge serving is poured into a huge tumbler full of ice. Even if they could hear you I doubt they would serve it to you any other way. By this point my taste buds are shot from drinking Neto and smoking. I am also very distracted by the painfully beautiful women everywhere. In this environment all I could taste of the Camargo is anis, but I was neither in the mood nor capable of analyzing it further. Luckily a couple days later I get another chance to try Camargo, and reach a completely different conclusion.
|By Grimbergen on Sunday, March 25, 2001 - 08:05 pm: Edit|
Ok. I will start recounting my tails now, although, unlike Artemis, mine will be disjunctive and devoid of decent prose.
After a good 18 hours of traveling I finally arrive in Sao Paulo. Unfortunately, for a country with a lot of developing left to do, Brazil has an acute talent for bureaucracy. I am forced to spend 3 hours in the customs line, fending off waves smarmy Europeans who don't believe that they should have to wait in lines. All I can think of is old psych experiments in which they try to establish that stress is caused by a lack of control over your environment. The experiment: randomly shocking monkeys who progressively get more deranged.
Given that I am 3 hours late at this point, I feel fairly confident that my friend will be waiting for me at the airport. Ha, I wish. I call my friend, who was sound asleep--a fairly bad case of Brazilian time. It is 10 am by this point and I an about to lose it; I need a drink. I find an airport bar, and right in front of me sits a bottle of Neto Costa. The words "Portuguese sheep dip" mysteriously ring through my head and I opt for cold beers in rapid succession. I will face Neto when the time is right.
|By Head_Prosthesis on Sunday, March 25, 2001 - 07:00 pm: Edit|
It's a beautiful thing...
|By Grimbergen on Sunday, March 25, 2001 - 06:27 pm: Edit|
Absinto Camargo and Absinto Neto Costa
|By Grimbergen on Sunday, March 25, 2001 - 06:24 pm: Edit|
|By Grimbergen on Sunday, March 25, 2001 - 05:52 pm: Edit|
Hi all. I just got back from Brazil. I spent a great week in Sao Paulo, and had a chance to do some absinthe hunting. A lot of interesting things to report. Stay tuned for reviews of Absinto Camargo, Neto Costa, pics from the Camargo distillery, and tales of my journey. I will write it all as I get a chance.
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