As she tentatively sipped an absinthe at Ixia, Celeste Corsaro, marketing director for Baltimore Eats magazine, probably answered for a number of folks when she said, "I'm trying to like it."
Peter Karl, who exports Kubler from Switzerland, wants to become absinthe's Martha Stewart - pushing fresh cocktails and cooking with it. He swears by mussels steamed in absinthe and is trying to team up with French chefs to publish a cookbook.
By early summer, Stone expects his absinthe, called Marteau, will be available for sale in this country.
While experimenting with the recipe, his quest was to create a traditionally styled absinthe that wouldn't be such a licorice bomb, one that would take better to mixing.
He's already infatuated with an Obituary - a dry gin martini with a splash of absinthe.
As it stands, though bars such as Ixia and Patterson Park's Three have made room for absinthe fountains and shops such as Hampden's Wine Source are selling out of cases of Kubler and Lucid, absinthe sales are a mere fraction of this country's total spirit sales.
Winters says he hopes to sell 10,000 cases this year - compared to 2 million Grey Goose - just one vodka brand.
Once the hired fairies have pulled off their wings and the fraternity brothers have figured out absinthe's only side affect is a lucidity their grandmother might find in a stiff cup of tea, most predict a quiet, distinguished future for the drink of legend.
"It's a beautifully complex thing to drink," Winters says. "When all the dust from the hype settles, people will be putting absinthe on the bar. It's got long-term prospects."
jill.rosen@baltsun.com
