I love pastis.
My husband surprised me with a trip to Paris for my 40th birthday in 2007. We stayed at the most charming apartment in Le Marais. Here are a few pictures (that do not give it justice):
It’s across the street, literally, from this place.
With the time difference, we were up late every night (and sleeping in every morning). Most nights, we would end up have a nightcap at the bar at Chez Janou. The bartender was a gorgeous young woman about 22 years old; her dark hair pulled up into a messy bun, and a cigarette hanging loosely from her red lips. She spoke very little English, but understood enough to know that my husband wanted a beer, and I wanted a pastis.
She didn’t pour me Ricard or Pernod. Each night I was served a different brand of pastis. Chez Janou carries a vast array.
We went there at least five times over the course of our one week stay. The last couple of visits, she poured me the more herbal varieties. I liked that she thought I had the palate to appreciate such flavors, but in the end, I liked plain old pastis the best.
At Dean and Deluca in Napa, just a 20 minute drive from our home, I can pick up my favorite.
This is a 750 ml bottle, about 25 ounces. I measure 1 to 1.5 ounces into a small glass, add a couple of ice cubes and cold water from a pitcher that I keep nearby. I gradually add more water from the pitcher as I drink the pastis. I paid $35 for this bottle and will get about 17 drinks. That’s only $2 for each drink!
Even though I indulged in a pastis almost every night in Paris, I rarely have one at home. But last night, I indulged.
Is pastis known for being a summer drink? It’s such refreshing end to a great summer day.