The Lush Chronicles: Why We Drink- Novelty

The Lush Chronicles: Why We Drink- Novelty

My grandmother used to tell me, "Michael, getting old is a bitch." She never really elaborated on exactly why, but I imagine it has something to do with aches, medication, diet restrictions and lost beauty. It didn't occur to me until recently that one of the worst parts of growing older is that there aren't as many new experiences out there. Sure, there are more unique experiences available for any one life to cover them all so it's not like we have to actually worry about running out of stuff to do, but then again not everything is appealing to everybody. I doubt I'll ever skydive or run a marathon, but there may come a day when a drink a glass of rice schnapps fermented in a bottle with the penis of a rhinoceros. I love bourbon now at my tender, inexperienced age, but come some curious night in my personal autumn I might just thirst after something different.

There's been something of an explosion of new beverages over the past ten or fifteen years. Nothing so revolutionary as a whole new spirit, though. I doubt a new kind of basic liquor will be invented until humans colonize another planet with its own unique vegetation. Still, anything that contains sugar can be fermented, filtered, aged and consumed. Also, neutral spirits can be flavored with just about anything.

That last one has led to some unusual trends in alcohol as of late. Some flavors of vodka make sense, at least ostensibly. Citrus of any sort is a given, though plain vodka with a twist will always taste better than brand-name lemon concoctions. Sweet additions like chocolate or espresso have turned out rather well, though the end product is less of a vodka and more of an extra-strong liqueur. Other ideas probably should never have left R&D. Three Olives has more flavor varieties than it really ought to, including Watermelon Vodka that tastes like a poisoned Jolly Rancher and I'm fairly certain that their Bubblegum flavor is designed purely to sell booze to children. No self-respecting adult would actually drink that stuff for any reason other than novelty or maybe some kind of theme party.

I can take or leave the flavor-crazy vodka trend, but the glut of new liqueurs is often both too intriguing and too weird to ignore. Various syrup producing entities have been peddling maple liqueur as of late, which has turned out to be the very epitome of great on paper and terrible in practice. Maple liqueur hits the tongue in three distinct stages, only one of which is at all pleasant. It begins with a confusing, bitter bite that has more in common with mint than maple and finishes with a sickly dissipation into sweetness without character. Only the middle segment after the tastebuds have adjusted to the bizarre combination of syrup and alcohol does anything even resembling maple sneak into the experience.

The problem with maple liqueur is that it's designed with too broad an ambition. Other sweet liqueurs like coffee, chocolate and nut flavors lean on the fact that all those things have an inherent bitterness to them already so the medicine-y taste of alcohol doesn't strike such a bad note. Maple is nothing but sweetness from start to finish. I so wanted this one to work, but the reality of maple liqueur is that its source material just doesn't like ethanol.

I'm hoping that the recent resurgence of absinthe and its fellow travelers ends soon. Anyone who's ever done the research knows that the Green Fairy doesn't contain any hallucinogenic compounds whatsoever and that the supposed intensity of its effects was just a lie invented by the temperance movement to demonize the bohemian drink of choice a whole century ago. In the end, absinthe is nothing but anise liquor that hasn't been balanced properly. Ouzo is just as good, only cleaner, and those looking for a sweeter experience can enjoy some chilled sambuca.

I'd like to believe that this search for new or unusual beverages will yield something special, something that lasts. Most of the fancy bottles, bright colors and powerful flavors in the bar's freshman class won't see another decade. Maybe there'll be a star or two to come out of the mix, though. I've got an itch for floral flavors like lavender and rose. Perhaps the future is up to the bees. Until then, I'm still too young to need novelty. For my sake, I hope bourbon satisfies me for several decades to come.