“Pastis’ dual nature of anaesthetising pain by numbing, and quenching thirst by cooling, is truly magical.”
If ever a spirit was a revival waiting to happen – especially in Australia – it’s pastis. It’s a classic spirit, it has a rich European history, and it’s best suited to a warm climate, hence its immense popularity in Mediterranean countries. Pastis is after all the drink that launched the Pernod Ricard empire. Kasia Sobiesiak explains.
LET’S GET THIS out of the way from the start. Pastis is anise-flavoured. It can be a hard-to-love drink, especially if any distaste for its medicinal-like flavour is rooted in childhood memories of cough syrup.
But to dismiss pastis on such grounds is a bit like dismissing Campari for being bitter, or gin for being something your grandmother might drink. Pastis isn’t loved in France for nothing; there’s more to pastis than anise.
Since antiquity, across both the Occident and the Orient, aniseed, fennel, and star anise have been known for their medicinal properties. People used them to soothe maladies and ward off ominous dreams. Today, anethole – the major oil component of these herbs and spices – helps us deal mainly with heat and provides a cooling refreshment in the form of an alcoholic solution: pastis.
Pastis started its life in 1918 as an alternative to absinthe (which had just been banned). The son of an absinthe producer in Avignon, Jules-Félix Pernod, modified and rebranded the family’s production as Anis Pernod. Paul Ricard then, in 1932, commercialised the anise spirit and named it pastis, an Occitan word for a mash-up or blend. A catchy tagline, “the true pastis of Marseille” was added for the ultimate victory of the brand. After years of fierce competition between Pernod and Ricard, pastis’ great commercial success eventually led to the companies’ merger in 1975.
Today, the Pernod Ricard conglomerate remains the biggest producer of pastis globally, with Ricard alone selling over 40 million litres of it annually.
Pastis may be popular among the French, but it’s often a polarising drink outside the Mediterranean.
Aniseed and warm weather are the perfect match
The Greeks have ouzo, the Turks raki, the Lebanese arak, the Balkans mastika, and the Italians sambuca or anisette. Each of these massively popular drinks, in their respective countries, is a spirit based on the family of anise-derived aromas and flavours. Populations rarely get matters wrong in such numbers. And when you look at the remedial history of anise and other anethole-bearing herbs, it’s hard to overlook their healing properties.
Pastis’ dual nature of anaesthetising pain by numbing, and quenching thirst by cooling is truly magical. So what makes it a refreshing and soothing marvel at the same time? Anethole. It works on our taste buds and soft tissue by triggering nerve receptors – much like menthol in mint gives a cooling sensation or capsaicin in chilli creates perceived heat. This is the anaesthetic property, but anethole is proven to also work as an anti-inflammatory and anti-bacterial compound as well as an antioxidant in our bodies. You can find anise-flavoured lozenges for a sore throat but let’s be honest, if you’re looking for true cure and pleasure combined, you know what comes to the rescue: pastis.
If it’s not true Pastis, then it’s not pastis at all
You can’t just make any old anise-flavoured spirit and call it Pastis. The recipe for crafting the real deal is strictly regulated by law in European Union.
Any spirit labelled ‘pastis’ must contain specific amounts of natural extracts of anethole but also glycyrrhizic acid which is derived from liquorice root. The sugar content is limited to less than 100 grams per litre, and the alcohol content must be at least 40%. There’s an additional designation—a grand cru if you will—’pastis de Marseille’. When this is stated on the label, the requirements for ingredients are stricter, with alcohol at a minimum of 45%. Pastis is often of an amber or yellow hue and this is due to the brown sugar or caramel used for colouring and sweetening.
The list of prescribed ingredients and their limitations isn’t long, but other herbs can be added according to the producer’s recipe or house style. The production of pastis follows the principles for maceration of botanicals and distillation, sometimes involving redistillation of the alcohol with herbs and spices or the addition of prior distilled essences.
Your Pastis will turn white if you add a dash of water (as that’s part of its magic)
The aromatic oils extracted during distillation are soluble in alcohol but not in water. When diluted in aqueous solution (tap water, soda water, mineral etc) the drink turns – magically – cloudy white. Chemically, it emulsifies—the oils are no longer soluble and form larger particles in the watery suspension, scattering the light. This ‘ouzo effect’ is scientifically called louching (pronounced: looshing).
Here's how to prepare your Pastis
And when it comes to louching (see above) – as chemically fascinating or mystical as it may seem – there’s a specific sequence of building a pastis drink in the glass, so that the louching takes effect.
The Paul Ricard method suggests a ratio of 5 parts water to 1 part pastis (though this doesn’t quite cut it for my vodka-washed palate). This might be the ideal refreshing mix, but if you need something stronger, un p’tit jaune – literally ‘a little yellow’ aka undiluted – might just do the trick for you. The principal rule for this stronger version is to add icy cold water to the already-poured pastis and then, but only then, drop in an ice cube (or skip the ice cube altogether). Don’t reverse the order: the delicate essential oils in pastis may experience ‘shock’ if poured directly over ice, causing crystallisation. This makes the colloid appear sparkly like snow in the sunlight (good) but a bit grainy (not good), resembling whey separated from milk solids. While it doesn’t affect the flavour, it loses some of its magic potion charm and smooth texture.
Buy Pastis. Drink Pastis. Go.
In summer. Or on a warm day. Or any time when you might want to dream of the Mediterranean sun, azure waters, or lavender fields. I appreciate that your first instinct is to down a bucket of your favourite Tassie gin with tonic, or a well-chilled Clare Valley Riesling, or perhaps to guzzle a few pints of Pacific ale. These of course are all fine selections. But it’s possible to kill two birds with one stone—not only the chaleur exquise but also douleur exquise, courtesy of pastis. Whether on the rocks with soda water and a wedge of lemon, or as a Piscine cocktail with water to spirit ratio of 7:1 (or as a straight up shot for a sore throat), a rich history suggests that you will love the experience, and that it sbenefits reach beyond the glass. It’s scientifically proven, after all.
Fun fact
Pastis itself was banned during World War II, due to its association with absinthe. It rose again after restrictions were lifted in 1951. Today, it is most commonly found in the Mediterranean, and remains a popular summer refreshment.