April Liquor: Créme Yvette

Hello, beautiful.

The story of Créme Yvette is, in a nutshell, the story of the last 100 years of American cocktail culture. The purple-hued liqueur was listed as an ingredient in published cocktails dating back to the late 1880s and until the 1930s and 40s, according to the company's website.

After prohibition, though, the way Americans drank changed. Many kids and teenagers who grew up during prohibition had little to no experience with drinking and went straight for drinks that could get them buzzed, and could get them buzzed quickly. This is part of the reason that vodka became an important and ubiquitous ingredient in drinks like the Bloody Mary, Screwdriver, and Moscow Mule, which helped its popularity soar.

Sad little digestifs like Créme Yvette were no match for this sea change in American drinking culture. It didn't help matters that one of Yvette's major ingredients was violet petals, as well as a masceration of berries, which I'm sure made it feel even more like something your grandma would drink, not a keen liquor you and your nifty friends would drink. Dig it, daddy-o?

Créme Yvette ceased production in 1969, but was resurrected in 2009 just as the classic cocktail craze was warming up in major American cities. There's a lovely interview with Robert Cooper, the head of the liquor company that owned the rights to the liquor's formula and decided to reintroduce it in Elements Magazine.

Bottoms up!

Cooper says that Yvette doesn't have the same broad appeal as the company's other famous liqueur, St. Germain, citing Yvette's lack of versatility and user-friendliness.

All the same, we're testing its boundaries this month with classic cocktails, new (and often frightening) creations, and, as always, a bit of murder thrown in at the end of the month.

Tasting notes: 

Dave:

When I took the cap off the bottle and sniffed, I was a bit shocked at how alcohol-forward it smelled. And when I poured it into the glass, I was really glad we hadn't decided to do Creme Violette this month instead, which is entirely violets, while Yvette is violets mixed with blackberries, raspberries, strawberries, and cassis, with honey, vanilla, orange peel and spices added.  It still smells ridiculously like flowers, which is not a smell I'm used to in things I drink.

I think Joe may have a difficult time with this one. It tastes much like it smells. Like flowers. We're drinking fucking flowers. I can't imagine drinking this after dinner as a digestif - it might make me want to retch up everything I'd just eaten. Not that it tastes bad exactly... just very, very strong. It's the strength of the floral taste that's off-putting. It's also a thick, heavy liquid - much like Bénédictine from last month - and that just enhances the almost syrupy sweetness in a way that's, well, gross to a modern cocktail drinker. We like our alcohol to taste like alcohol and this tastes like perfume.

It's going to be an interesting month. If anyone wants to try Créme Yvette, come by our place. I'm sure we'll have some of this left, even if you can't make it by our place until the year 2062.

Joe:

I was really quite excited about this liqueur when Dave told me it was his choice for April. I had never even heard of Créme Yvette, and I am always up for an adventure. Plus the information Dave had found about the drink was just so darn fascinating! A resurrected liqueur of yore!

But.

This smells like my grandmother. Her house, more accurately. I should probably clarify that I don't really like the smell of my grandmother's house. Most people probably associate grandmothers with baked apple pies or rose perfume or something. But this is not the case with mine. This is going to come across as incredibly cruel, but I'm being honest: her house smells a bit like mildew. Mildewed flowers. It's a scent that embeds itself in everything: furniture, food, you name it. Dave is getting a hit of all these wonderful fruity notes, and I'm just getting a big hit of mold.

And then we tasted it.

Picture a ninety year old woman. Maybe she has that bluish-tinted hair because of a rinse she uses. Maybe she smells like baby powder with a hint of mothballs. Maybe she spends her days in the garden, tending to gardenias and gladiola, jacaranda and hyacinth, hyssop and violets. She's been out in the sun for a long time. She returns inside and draws a bath, adding Epsom salts and lavender bubble bath. And she bathes. For a couple hours. Once her wrinkly skin is even wrinklier, she emerges from the tub.

And that's when the makers of Créme Yvette swoop in and bottle the bath water.

Dave took two candid photos when I tasted Créme Yvette for the first time. I had no idea he was snapping shots, but I think they tell the full story.

Oh, Sweet Jesus

Sweet baby Jesus.

This is going to be a rough month, folks.

Nerdy Librarian Citations:
Dewing, Neal. "How Vodka Conquered America" The Federalist. The Federalist, 15 July 2014. Web. 27 March 2016. <http://thefederalist.com/2014/07/25/how-vodka-conquered-america>.

Simonson, Robert. "Creme Yvette" Elements Magazine. Imbibe Media, 14 August 2009. Web. 27 March 2016. <http://imbibemagazine.com/elements-creme-yvette>.