text and photography by Kitty Diggins, 2005
Like many people trapped within the moral confines of this county's belief system, still living somewhat in prohibition , I have for many years read, heard of, and longed to obtain communion with that elusive "Green Fairy" otherwise known as Absinth.
I have on a few occasions, had Absinth, but I had already been plied with other alcohol. So the time was not appropo. When in Berlin , one thing on my list was to visit the Absinth Depot and I am so glad I did! I must say, it was one of the highlights of my trip! The Absinth Depot is a quaint little shop, with high ceilings, so it gives it a bit more depth where needed. I asked Tim to accompany me, and lucky for us, it was only a ten minute walk from his place on Shoenhauserallee.
We arrived and already there were three American yuppies who arrived slightly before us. The unassuming , yet charming, man behind the counter gathered us before the counter, asking us three questions pertaining to what we were looking for in the Absinth experience; higher Liquor content , more licorice flavor, or the more "hallucinogenic" quality.
We all eagerly expressed our enthusiasm for the latter.
He began a presentation (prior to which, he expressed that if we were actually going to purchase something, he would indulge us, as he did not have a license to sell cocktails). He explained each bottle, its origins and contents of various proportion of herbs, alcohol, how it was made, and what awards it may have acquired, if any.
He then began pouring samples of of the ones we were interested in into a little shot glass and from a terra-cotta pitcher he added cold water We imbibed and discussed what we liked or didn't like and how one was different from another...and believe me, there is quite a difference in many of them. I believe I tried about six different kinds, all really unique.
The yuppies left, leaving Tim and myself to have our own private audience with the proprietor, whose name I believe was Hermann.... I apologized for being so indecisive, but I said I was poor and I really could only get just one or maybe if the bottles were smaller and less expensive, I could get two. I was also concerned about going through customs with it. I would be sad if I had parted with my valuable and rare dollars, only to have my precious purchase confiscated at the airport by amateurs who more than likely would know nothing about it, but get to take it home with them.
He said that he had not heard of anyone having a problem and my friend who told me about this place never had either.
But with the current state of affairs with security, I didn't want to take any chances.
Anyway, while I was going back and forth between two possibilities, Tim inquired about some other bottles on the shelf. Our host went to fetch one and Tim said for him not to be troubled. He indicated that he had a stash down below and quickly began to pour some for Tim. When Tim asked what it was, "Hermann" said with a slightly mischievous tone "I'm not going to tell. You must try and tell me what you think it is."
We laughed. Tim tasted and exclaimed "This is marvelous, but I don't know what it is!" Then it was my turn. I sniffed it and it had a very woody scent. I tasted it and determined it was hazelnut...and I was right. Normally I am repulsed by any kind of Hazelnut flavoring, but this was not a liquor or an extract, but a distillation. It was pure distilled Hazelnut and it was really interesting.
Next he began pouring another. It was like we were in the cabinet of a slightly-off inventor and he was excitedly rubbing his paws together at having us an experiment.
The next sample was red and immediately without hesitation determined it was Raspberry. I love Raspberries and Tim doesn't. So I drank it down.
I finally decided to get the Serpis Absinth Classic. While I don't care for Campari, this has a similar quality, BUT is very pleasant and mild. It s color is also red and comes in a stately looking bottle. Not too much licorice and not too much alcohol, measuring out at 55% and it is made in Spain. While he was fetching my bottle, I inquired about some other bottles on a shelf to the left . His reply was that these were herbs. He explained a few, but one caught my eye. This, he said, was Mandrake.
Mandrake?!? I just about combusted into a million microbes in thin air......
Surely , he must be joking , but no, he confirmed that he was not.
How was this possible, and if it was, why did I not know that you could BUY mandrake in a distilled form and in a bottle, no less?
Immediately he went for his lower shelf stash and in the twinkling of an eye was pouring me a little glass of mandrake.
I was jumping up and down and all over in one place.
The mandrake was in my hand , and I felt I should kneel down and pledge some kind allegiance. I have kept mandrake in my house, but never thought of consuming it. So here I go....
It was to be expected; strange and bitter but not too bad really,...and it was mandrake!
Hermann said with one little glass you get a nice high. This was a very exciting moment - I thought now my Halloween would be complete; high on a mountain top, a bonfire blazing , sky clad drinking in the magical mandrake root, being lifted into the air and carried off in a mist of witches on broomsticks, ghosts, and miscellaneous demons swirling high above the caverns of Hell like a scene straight out of Murnau's Dante's Inferno. I was jumping up and down like a little kid high on too much Halloween candy.
It was an exciting moment and our host was quite happy that one of his customers would know the exact purpose of this substance. At that point, I was really torn, but convinced that I had to have a bottle of the mandrake, but I didn't have much money left. So decided to wait until tomorrow.
We concluded our visit to the Absinth Depot. Thanking our host many time's over , we left the place, my bag in hand, and walked back to Shoenhauserallee with the beginnings of chilly October air not bothering us one bit because we were lit like furnaces and not even really noticing our lower extremities. I felt like that one vision of Alice with her neck stretched high head floating slightly atop. Visions of Green Fairies and flecks of gold whirling about our heads, we giggled all the way home.
And yes, I did return to the Absinth Depot just before midnight the next day to secure my hold on that bottle of Mandragore which has a few words which I loosely translate from Spanish to say "Hallucinogenic plant of the Witches".
Kitty Diggins is a performance artist and a contributing writer for No-Fi "Magazine"
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