Subject: Paris feedback from: [bjacques]
Good show about Bohemian Paris, but you fell for the old canard (quack!) about flaming absinthe-soaked sugarcubes. That "tradition" was invented in the 1990s, by Hill's the Czech absinthe maker and found its way into movies like "xXx" and "From Hell." It's probably based on flaming Sambuca or 161-proof rum shots--special effects for the easily impressed--because it never appeared in the 19th-century popular media regarding absinthe. Not in advertisements nor cartoons or paintings have flaming sugar cubes ever appeared.
Yours,
Their response:
Dear Mr [bjacques],
Many thanks for letting us know how much you had enjoyed the programme.
Please accept my apologies for the delay in replying. We were overwhelmed by the response to this series.
I made your point to the producer and she has asked me to pass on her reply to you:
"Separating fact from fantasy when it comes to absinthe is pretty tough - like the age old debate about whether it used to be hallucinogenic or not. Our research and conversations with producers of absinthe suggest it wasn't hallucinogenic at all - it was no more potent than gin. But, like gin in the 18th century, a media hysteria grew up around absinthe suggesting it was far more deadly than in fact it was. As for the flaming sugar cubes, Sandrine [the presenter - bjacques] just gave a demonstration of the way she drinks it. They certainly did dissolve sugar into it in the old days - hence those special spoons. But as for the pyrotechnics - well, it's quite possible that Sandrine and we were misinformed"
I hope the above helps explain this feature and that you will continue to watch and enjoy other series from the Open University/BBC partnership.
Best wishes,
XXXXXXXXXXX
BBC/Open University
Viewer and Listener Information Officer
A very nice response, I thought, so I sent in a friendly, if geeky counter-response. Apologies in advance for any misrepresentations. I was trying to keep it short (-ish. I drank way too much coffee:
Hello Ms. XXXXXX
Thanks for responding. Absinthe's rescue from obscurity and, er, rehabilitation in about the last 15 years makes an interesting story in itself.
(anorak-ish potted recent history follows)
Czech absinthe was the first to impinge on public consciousness, in the early 1990s, through the artist Damien Hirst and his friends. Maybe some enterprising Prague club-owner started selling it. I gather Hirst sold it at Pharmacy, his bar. Over the years, other brands seemed to fade into (re-)existence, coming from Spain, Portugal and Bulgaria(!). The market grew beyond hipster circles, thanks somewhat to informed and informative websites like www.feeverte.net. It was one of that site's mainstays, Ted Breaux of New Orleans, a chemical engineer who reverse-engineered a vintage absinthe, found a French distillery that could produce it in quantity, then created his own fine brands. Madame Delahaye of Pontarlier, France, went on tours to lecture on absinthe and promote her own varieties, which are pretty good. But the Czech brand(s), being first past the post, gave the silly flaming sugar cube story more longevity than it deserved.
The market for absinthe is now big enough fine absinthes as well as the cheap, high-octane and high-

(end anorak-ish potted recent history)
But feel free to promote my idea for a fake provenance of flaming absinthe. The drink was supposedly never outlawed in Czechoslovakia--not under the Austro-Hungarian Empire, nor during nationhood or in the CSSR. And thereby hangs the tale…
During the Prague Spring of 1968, absinthe was popular among students and jazz fans. Old Czech jazz musicians still recall all-night, absinthe-fuelled jam sessions during those heady months. When the Soviet tanks rolled into Prague, an unknown student, holed up in a bar and lacking the means to make a petrol bomb, remembered the high alcohol content of a local brand of absinthe. He quickly improvised a Molotov Cocktail from a bottle and a tea towel and hurled it into action against an onrushing Uncle Joe. The tank crew escaped the resulting inferno, but only barely. The flaming sugar cube atop a Czech absinthe is really a homage to the brave unknown student, but foreign tourists don't care, so bartenders just tell them it's how the French used to drink it. Absinthe connoisseurs maintain that the best way to serve Czech absinthe is in the original manner. If no enemy tank is handy, the side of a building or a nearby bridge abutment will do. Any method that doesn't involve drinking the stuff is fine.
Warmest regards,
