Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder.

That's the headline I would have written for an article, had I written an article on absinthe, which I have not.

I did however drink some last night. I went through the whole "theater of it." Those are Marcel's words and he's a theater type, so I figure I better keep them.

So, you start with absinthe (duh) and a glass and an absinthe spoon and a cube of sugar. The cube goes on the spoon which lays on top of the glass. It's not an actual spoon, in the way we know spoons. It's flat and there are holes in it, so when you pour the absinthe on the cube it drains into the glass, which is then filled with water. This turns the absinthe a milky white. OK, it's still green, but a milky kind of green. Then, the sugar cube is set on fire. It bubbles and carmelizes. When the flames dies, the cube goes into the glass. Then you stir. Then you drink.

According to Marcel, who seems to be up on such things, this is the Chetch way of drinking absinthe. There is also a French way, but it wasn't really explained to me.

All in all it was not a bad experience. I did not drink enough to get me drunk. Or high. No Ozzy-Osbourne-voiced green faries for me. It's not my idea of the ideal alcoholic drink. I like beer, or save that, whiskey, or scotch, or good vodka, cold. But I can see the allure of it. The "theater" of it all.