jkkelley's Full Review: Absolut Vodka Citron - 1 liter
A long time ago I sorta knew someone who just looooooved this stuff. She was always going on about it (usually while crocked on it). Well, I try and keep an open mind about flavoured liquor provided it isn't something repulsive like blackberry brandy, so I'd always reckoned that one day I'd try a little Absolut Citron.
In our fair Evergreen State of Washington (to judge by where we live, it should be the 'Everbrown State'), all liquor stores are owned by the State. While that makes it sound like if you cause trouble or bounce a check you end up in some sort of Lubyanka, in reality it doesn't work out badly. (It does mean that people who rob liquor stores in this state succeed in personally annoying the law enforcement authorities.)
What's astonishing is how friendly the liquor store workers are... how in hell did these people ever apply to the State? Someone botched, I suppose. I always joke with them about how long it's been since I was carded, and they always laugh knowingly--but even then, they don't card me. Ah, youth has flown, leaving snowflakes in my beard. (There isn't enough hair on my head to leave them in, and they had to go someplace.)
So this evening I bought a 375ml slug of this stuff ($10) to give it the long-awaited try. My liquor tastes are catholic (small 'c') and unrefined, but I appreciate a smooth and interesting drink. I drink nearly all liquors straight when at home; my normal philosophy is that if you need to mix it, or put ice in it, it's urine. I will try and use the appropriate sophisticated booze appreciation terms here, as I have been reading booze reviews cold sober lately and have heard enough to bandy them about--so watch out.
I would describe the 'nose' as runny and congested. Well, sort of. My first impression of the smell of the stuff was that it was like some sort of lemon cough medicine. I handed it to my wife--shoved it right under her nostrils, lout that I am--and she made the kind of expression usually reserved for when I'm eating sardines in Cajun hot sauce. Ok, not quite that bad, but she definitely wasn't enchanted. I was reminded a bit of akvavit, which I didn't like much even though I really wanted to.
Next, of course, it was time to pour a good straight slug. My first impression was that there wasn't much lemon in it; it was ok vodka, I suppose. I can't say that it was 'rich and full-bodied', but it was at least making ends meet and slightly curvaceous. Nothing to fly to Sweden over, and certainly no reason to buy a whole coffee-table book dedicated solely to glorifying their advertising. The 'finish' was, let's see... not stucco, but clear varnish, perhaps. It wasn't 'peaty' or 'heathery' that I could tell, but if I ever eat peat or heather I promise to come in and update this review. If 'finish' means the aftertaste, it wasn't bad; just tasted like decent vodka, you either like it or you don't.
Deb tried it and disfavoured me with an even worse moue of distaste, but she had an idea. Deb is an Alaskan raised on Crown Royal (oh, my mother-in-law will roast me over a slow fire for that statement) and has good instincts when it comes to the sauce as well as having a very sensitive nose. (By contrast, you could drop me into a Kansas feedlot and I'd just be mildly stenched out. It's occurred, so I have proof.)
So, at Deb's suggestion, I reached back and slapped Absolut Citron across the chops with a glove; I issued it a vile gutter insult, by my Quixotic lights, the kind that only blood can wipe clean:
I put three ice cubes in it.
At this point, the Absolut company should send a representative to duel me with a lutefisk gun at twenty paces. Pretty frightening when you think about it. Imagine the sound: a low-pitched *BORK!* *BORK!* *BORK!*, and me falling pierced to the heart by gelatinous fish boiled in Drano. Then again, maybe some people would regard that as a positive outcome.
And, lo and behold, it was pretty darned decent when chilled. The lemon note came out more strongly and the nose apparently took some Sudafed and cleared up. (Of course, by then I was getting slightly buzzed, having been on the wagon for three months.) I still wouldn't call it 'rich and full-bodied' but it was now affluent with nice hips and very little cellulite. Can't say the same about me on either count.
Of course, Deb had to give it another try. After some constructive encouragement, she agreed to share her views: "You know, like, how hair spray tastes when you're fixing your hair first thing in the morning and you're not quite awake, and you go to spray your bangs and you accidentally get it in your mouth? ('Of course, dear.') That's what it tastes like. You are a bona fide, certified freak." She marched off, chanting, "Freak, freak, freak, freak!"
No man is luckier.
This is awfully expensive mixing sauce, but I went ahead and made a screwdriver with it. The Citron virtually vanished in the sweetness of the OJ; the alcohol was more of an aftertaste. It was a perfectly good screwdriver, provided you wanted to pretend you weren't really drinking. By this time I was half in the bag, so I decided not to drink any more. (Yeah, go ahead, call me a lightweight. Don't I wish.)
Much later in the evening, I was pretty blasted, and decided to try the dregs of the bottle without ice to see if I'd acquired a taste for it. The 'nose' was now very fresh-smelling to me, sort of like car deodorant shaped like a little tree. Still tasted mostly like regular vodka. The 'finish' was unremarkable; shellac, perhaps, with a note of Lemon Pledge.
I didn't have a significant hangover, though I had done the water and aspirin thing before I staggered off to hit the sack. My theory is that if it's really lousy stuff, you'll be miserable the next day no matter what countermeasures you take, and this certainly didn't leave any ill effects. Of course, I didn't binge on it or anything; it was a slow, five-hour process of gradual consumption.
Overall: Absolut Citron sort of grew on me, especially when served over. Straight it actually wasn't as good. It would make a pretty interesting screwdriver for people with more money than me. I didn't think it was worth $19 a quart, so I'm glad I got the half-quart, but I wouldn't exactly reject it if I were dying in the Gobi Desert or something. It is also due to value for the money that I dissent from the majority and decline to recommend it.
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