The Lure of Ricard

Hello, my lovelies. It's been a while, hasn't it? I'm afraid I've been caught up in my day-to-day living, and have shamefully neglected you. Ah, well, let's try to remedy the neglect, shall we?

For all of you out there who have never visited France, there is something you should know. The French love anything anise-flavored. Candy, mints, and most especially ... Ricard. Every bar and cafe hereabouts has a bottle or ten of this aperitif ready to pour at all times, and I am going to do my best to explain it. In my own opinion, it is possibly the foulest-tasting stuff on the planet, but the French enjoy it mightily, and perhaps, as the years go by, my taste buds will become accustomed. Who knows.

Ricard (and other local variants of the liqueur, called pastis) is simply an anise-flavored liqueur, somewhat like  Galliano, or Jagermeister, or ouzo. What really differs is the serving of it. You don't drink Ricard neat; instead,  a couple of ounces are poured into a snifter (usually with the Ricard logo printed on it - the Ricard folks are no slouches when it comes to promotional materials, especially glassware), either with or without an ice cube, according to taste ... and then, you top it off by pouring in a measure of cold water before drinking. This still sounds pretty typical for any sort of liquor, but the water actually changes the color of it, so that the clear, kind of light amber of the liqueur itself now is a milky yellowish-white, looking disturbingly like skim milk. And then you drink it. And it tastes like black jellybeans. As an old friend of mine would always say, oy vey.

I've noticed that, on the whole, it seems to be much more a man's drink than a ladies' drink, but that doesn't mean I haven't seen plenty of women quaffing this beverage from time to time. One would think that the French national drink would have to be wine - and wine is important here, no doubt - but Ricard seems to give the vineyards a run for their money in terms of customer loyalty. People sit and chat with each other for hours, with a bottle of Ricard on the bar and a flagon of water between them, refilling and topping off their glasses countless times as the evening goes by. I've tasted it myself, and almost ran screaming down the street as my taste buds were saturated with the oily and slightly medicinal taste of licorice, but I am definitely in the minority here, as far as the wonders of Ricard are concerned. Again, maybe this is how I will know that I have assimilated into French society - when offered a Ricard, I will happily accept and even drink it without wanting to tear out my own tongue. But then, I was never a fan of Jagermeister or anything similar, either. Ew.

Instead, I stick to beer when I can (mostly light lagers, which are most popular here), the occasional glass of house red or white, and, more and more increasingly, whiskey and water. I haven't had a gin and tonic in quite some time - gin seems to be missing from the drinks menu in most establishments hereabouts - not too popular, I gather. Although to me, the leap from anise flavoring to juniper is not all that far, and you can always get a tonic water, wherever you go ... but I can buy gin in the liquor store or at the grocery, so my love of a good G&T can at least be indulged at home!

One last note: here, it is perfectly acceptable to order a beer sweetened with flavored sirop. I am not kidding. Grenadine, mint, or peach syrup are the most common, though I guess you could tell them to put in whatever they had on hand - strawberry, blackcurrant, lemon, orange ... There is a disturbing concoction called a Monaco that is beer, grenadine syrup, and limonade, which is like 7-UP. Basically, a Shirley Temple with beer in it. I made several of these for people while I was working at the campground, and the expression on people's faces as they sipped them always seemed to be, Ah - how refreshing. I myself am not convinced of this, and have steered clear. Between licorice-flavored stuff and sweet beers, there is enough evidence, in my opinion, to stick with the old tried-and-true staples of beer, wine, and whiskey. No surprises there. If you like licorice, though, then France is the place for you. There is a bar stool, pitcher of water, snifter glass, and bottle of Ricard right here waiting for you.

Pronunciation guide:

Ricard: ree-CAHR
pastis: pass-TEE
sirop: sear-OH
Monaco: mohn-ah-COH
limonade: lee-moh-NOD