The undiluted delight of a pastis apéro
Roula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.
The first thing I do on arriving at any French holiday let is get the ice tray in the freezer. Then it’s off to the hypermarché to stock up on pastis. Because there’s nothing quite like mixing a round of long, cool Ricards to make you feel like you’re on vacation. “Pastis is part of the heritage here, it represents so much more than just an apéritif,” says Manon Vieules, co-owner of the new Vibes Riviera bar in Nice. “For many people it’s the spirit of the south of France – it’s an art de vivre.”
“It’s affordable, it’s easy to mix at home, there’s no snobbery around it,” agrees Aurélie Panhelleux, co-owner of the CopperBay bar in pastis’s hometown Marseille (where Ricard is made). “It’s a spirit you can share – it’s a very social moment.”
The anise-y apéro was introduced in the 1930s in the wake of the absinthe scare (unlike absinthe, pastis doesn’t traditionally contain wormwood – the ingredient that was believed, quite wrongly, to induce psychotic episodes). Its principal flavouring is star anise – it also often contains liquorice, as well as herbs and spices including angelica, fennel, nutmeg, cinnamon and cloves.
Pastis is traditionally diluted with chilled water, in a ratio of about 1:5. The water is usually served on the side so you can mix the drink to your taste. Adding ice before water is a big no-no, according to Panhelleux, “because it ‘breaks’ the flavour molecules and changes the flavour. If a French person sees you adding ice first, they will kill you.”
Pernod Ricard Pastis 51, £26.25 for 70cl, thewhiskyexchange.com
Pernod Ricard Pastis de Marseille, £25 for 70cl, waitrose.com
If you add a splash of orgeat almond syrup to the mix, you’ll have made a Mauresque – a classic that’s having a micro-resurgence. It’s on the menu at New York’s trendy Le Veau d’Or restaurant on the Upper East Side and in a slightly more tropical form at the aforementioned Vibes Riviera in Nice. CopperBay also makes a tonka and orange-blossom-laced house pastis, Mauresco, inspired by its flavour profile.
Other tooth-achey twists on the two-part formula include the Perroquet (pastis with a dash of mint syrup) and the Tomate (grenadine), which insiders tell me was a favourite of former French president Jacques Chirac.
The biggest brands by some margin are Ricard and Pastis 51 (both owned by Pernod Ricard) – you’ll find at least one of these in virtually any café du coin. (Ricard recently released a collectable, limited-edition 20cl pre-mix exclusively for France – €2.50.) But an increasingly popular choice among discerning drinkers is Pastis Henri Bardouin, an upmarket recipe made with 65 botanicals including thyme, rosemary, cardamom and mace, which give it a bit more nuance.
A great selection of artisan pastis can be found at Paris’s La Compagnie du Mieux Boire, a spirits boutique in the 11th arrondissement. “Pastis de la Plaine is the newcomer,” says proprietor Steven Bertin. “Made in Marseille, it’s starting to replace the Ricard in good bars and restaurants in the city. It has a pretty classic taste but with less sugar.” He also recommends Pastis Breton from the tiny island of Ouessant off the Brittany coast: “It’s a bit more herbal than the usual ones, with a strong emphasis on fennel,” and the locally-made Pastis Parisien (€40, lcmb.fr), which is pimped with juniper berries and an infusion of Earl Grey tea (which gives it an amber colour).
Part of the charm of the pastis ritual is its accompanying branded barware. And the vintage stuff can be highly collectable – one of my favourite pieces is a slant-shouldered 1960s Ricard carafe.
Marc Kent, technical director of South Africa’s renowned Boekenhoutskloof winery in Franschhoek, has amassed a huge collection of vintage carafes, which are displayed around the walls of the winery’s tasting room. “I started collecting in the early 1990s while visiting Bordeaux,” he says. “I’d drive through the villages and stop at all the brocantes searching for beautiful things – the carafes were a lovely treasure, and relatively inexpensive. The imperfections in the glass moulds and the screen printing make them tactile and interesting.” Retro water pitchers are also a part of the service at Keith McNally’s Pastis restaurant in New York City, served alongside an array of vintage bottlings going back to the 1960s. “Pastis is France’s most convivial spirit – it doesn’t matter whether it’s in a village bistro or a five-star bar,” says Panhelleux. “It’s part of our DNA – and we are here to defend that.”
Comments