March Liquor: Benedictine

So pretty we bought two!

Bénédictine is super-secret.

Like a French James Bond.

Or a Hercule Poirot.

Or the Colonel’s blend of 27 spices.*

The ingredients of Bénédictine are a trade secret, like a surprising number of liqueurs on the market. There’s much speculation involving the ingredients. Our hero, Amy Stewart, suggests the following ingredients: vanilla, nutmeg, allspice, angelica, and lemon balm. She also maintains that the makers of Bénédictine admit to an infusion of saffron.

Liquor.com adds hyssop to the ingredient list. Their striking claim that only three people on planet earth know the recipe adds to the intrigue of this fascinating concoction.

Since we had our first taste over Skype, Dave and I are recreating the kinda-but-not-really conversation we had for our experience.

Dave: CAN WE OPEN IT YET?

Joe: Calm down. I haven't gotten onto Skype.

Dave: I ALREADY OPENED THE BOTTLE. BUT THERE’S A SECOND CAP ON IT. OMG HURRY. I CAN’T HOLD OUT MUCH LONGER.

Joe: Please stop yelling at me.

Dave: OK FINE.

Joe: *frowny emoji*

We began, as usual, by smelling the liqueur.  

Joe: I wonder if it smells like Drambuie. It sure does look like Drambuie. It’s viscous and honey-colored. (smells) What in tarnation is this magic?

Dave: Tarnation? How old are you? It smells a bit like licorice in the bottle - it’s heavy and herb-y and a little bit medicinal.

Joe: The scent is alcohol forward.  I’m getting rubbing alcohol now. Spicy, lovely rubbing alcohol. Rubbing alcohol that I want to put in my mouth. There’s almost a grassy scent, maybe? Herbaceous for sure.

Dave: Maybe you should just call it herbalicious. *rimshot* When poured into a glass, it is a little disappointing. It’s not some cool color like green or purple. It’s just brown. Boring brown. Only a little more golden-amber than bourbon or brandy, but a whole lot more viscous and thick. It actually smells a bit like some of our brandy infusions at week 2 or so.

Joe: Yeah. Those little trails?

Dave: Legs.

Joe: Yeah. Those. Really taking a long time to drip down the glass.

And then the moment we were waiting for. The tasting.

Dave: This tastes nothing at all like it smells. Like when you were little and decided you really wanted to taste vanilla extract because you were gay and always cooked with your mother and also maybe had your own play cooking set, but then you tried it and it was disgusting and you decided you never wanted to eat anything made from it again. Or maybe that was just me.

Joe: Nope. Sounds about right.

Dave: Unlike vanilla extract, though, Bénédectine tastes delicious and smells like alcohol, not the other way around.

Joe: It’s way better than how Drambuie tastes on its own. There are about 100 flavors that hit at once. Spicy and complex. A bite hits the palate immediately, and there’s a flavor that comes through about a second after the alcohol is in your mouth that is absolutely phenomenal. And then it smooths into something lovely, something very vanilla - but almost earthy.

Dave: There’s a really bright, forward taste of honey - or maybe you just think honey because this is so thick and sweet. But not syrupy-sweet. I’m also getting a slight hint of citrus at the end, or maybe that’s just my tongue finally recognizing “oh hey - there’s actually alcohol in this!” I’m still getting licorice or root beer towards the end, right before the citrusy finish.

Joe: God, this is luxurious. The entire experience is close to indescribable. It’s the taste of Christmas cookie spices and autumn sunshine and falling asleep in a field of wildflowers.

Dave: Or maybe you could just say it tastes like unicorns and sunshine and rainbows and happiness and puppies.

Joe: Also accurate.

Dave: Anyway. The real question is: why the hell do people ever mix this with anything? Why don’t more people just order straight Bénédictine, maybe slightly warmed, at bars all over the East Coast? Why haven’t hipsters glommed onto this already? Or old people? This seems like an old person after-dinner drink. Or maybe something that all those 1960s housewives who snuck nips of the cooking sherry would hide in the back of the cabinet.

Joe: Like Drambuie is best when paired with scotch, I wonder, too, if Bénédictine is only supposed to be paired with brandy. Being a French liqueur, was it made specifically to pair with the refined alcohol? I’ve had B&Bs, and they’re just lovely. But what else on earth could possibly mix with this? Not a clear liquor. Vodka & Bénédictine? No, thanks.

Dave: OOH! I’ve got it! This tastes like FLAT ROOT BEER SYRUP. But actually delicious and something you would want to ingest.

Joe: Oh my god. You’re absolutely on point with that. To me, outside a B&B, the only way to drink this - and truly appreciate it - would be neat, all by its lonesome. Ooh. Or maybe in warm apple cider! I bet that would taste delicious.

*Bénédictine, interestingly, is also made of 27 herbs and spices, according to the blurb on the back of the bottle.

Nerdy Librarian Citations:
Steward, Amy. The Drunken Botanist: The Plants That Create the World's Great Drinks. Chapel Hill: Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill, 2013. Print.

"Bénédictine." Liquor.com. Liquor.com, 2016. <http://www.liquor.com>. 1 March 2016. Web.