The Ponton Smash is a whiskey drink cosplaying as a rum drink. It’s whiskey slipping a lei around its neck and pretending it was always designed for the summertime, and what’s more, it’s actually pulling it off. It’s refreshing and tropical, herbaceous and bright, and the reason it works—the reason this is one of the only tiki bourbon drinks you’ll ever see—isn’t because of an unusual build or beachy origin or some exotic tree-sap unearthed from the Bornean jungle. It’s simply due to the transformative magic of a well-chosen absinthe.
Most of what people think they know about absinthe is wrong (it is, for example, neither illegal nor hallucinogenic, and it’s not “more real” in Europe). It’s just a botanical liquor: Its roots are from the late 1700s on the Swiss-French border, and it is, like gin, a spirit infused with plants, and then re-distilled. Also like gin, producers must use a specific plant to call it absinthe, but where gin must use juniper berries, absinthe must use a plant called grand wormwood (from whose Latin name, artemisia absinthium, we take the word “absinthe”).
Absinthe also nearly always has fennel and anise, which give it its signature licorice note. Beyond that, absinthe makers are free to use whatever herbs, roots, and spices they want, and this accounts for the dizzying array of flavors and styles. Procedurally they differ as well: Sometimes producers will stop at the first distillation, yielding a clear product (“blanche”), and sometimes they take that and re-infuse it with more herbs, giving it a bolder flavor and green tint (“verte”). Some brands like Pernod are stripped down and austere, while others, like the Jade Espirit Edouard, are so full of flavor that you can feel it in your toes.
Why are we talking so much about absinthe? Because as mentioned, it is magic. You’ll rarely use absinthe more than a half-teaspoon at a time, and yet its botanical structure can absolutely transform a cocktail. Absinthe can turn a drink from boring to phenomenal (see the Corpse Reviver No. 2) or from derivative to unique (see the Sazerac), and because they’re all so different, the right absinthe can take a drink from humdrum to transcendent.
I knew part of this, but I never fully appreciated absinthe’s unique wizardry until I took over managing an absinthe bar. One of my operating principles was that every drink that calls for absinthe has a perfect absinthe for it, one that unlocks its potential and makes it great, and my job was to find the right bottle for the right cocktail. You’ll make 10 examples of an otherwise identical drink and try 10 different absinthes in it, and it’s like playing duck duck goose: You go tasting down the line—this one’s good, that one’s great, good, good, fine, good, and then the seventh one you taste is absolutely incredible. The way a particular absinthe can interact with a cocktail can stun you. With a Tuxedo No. 2 it’s Kubler Absinthe. With the Death in the Afternoon it’s La Clandestine. With a Mango Margarita it’s La Fée Parisienne. It’s a remarkable fact, one that even most bartenders don’t know because it’s really only possible to discover if you work at or with an absinthe bar and have 35+ bottles to play with, but that yields such delicious results that it’s worth noting in and of itself.
The Ponton Smash is such a drink. You take the framework of a classic Whiskey Smash (bourbon, lemon, sugar, mint), and add pineapple juice and a touch of the right absinthe, and the drink is transformed. Deeper. Rounder. Fuller. It’s like the whole experience gets painted green. Without absinthe, you’d take a sip and think “it’s ok, but it would be better with rum.” With absinthe, the drink is perfection. It is, again, magic.
Ponton Smash
- 1.875 oz. bourbon
- 0.125 oz. (about .75 tsp.) Butterfly Classic Absinthe
- 0.75 oz. lemon juice
- 1 oz. pineapple juice
- 0.5 oz. simple syrup
- 6-8 mint leaves
Add all ingredients to a cocktail shaker and shake hard on ice for six to eight seconds. No need to muddle the mint, the ice with “smash” it for you. Fine strain into a rocks glass over fresh ice, and garnish with a mint sprig, and if you’re feeling festive, a pineapple slice or leaf.
NOTES ON INGREDIENTS
Absinthe: This drink absolutely sings with Butterfly Classic, an absinthe originally developed in Boston of all places, and resurrected by a company that now makes it in Switzerland. Absinthe is expensive, and you may already have a bottle and hesitate to buy another just for this drink: In this, all I can say is that I hear you. The drink requires a full-flavored, herbaceous verte absinthe to work (what I started to think of as the “Friendly Green Giants”), so that’s so La Fée Parisienne, Leopold Brothers, Vieux Pontarlier, even Pernod if that’s what you’ve got. It won’t, sadly, be as good as it would with Butterfly Classic, but with one of those four it would still be worth making. If you only have a Blanche or a sweeter verte like Absente, I honestly wouldn’t make this drink at all.
The only other thing to say here is that through trial and error, we collectively determined that Butterfly Classic was the best absinthe to give to a newcomer to the category, in that its friendly and eminently likeable. If you’re going to like any absinthe, you’ll probably like the Butterfly Classic. So perhaps it is worth picking up a bottle, in the end.
Bourbon: As this was made at a bar, it was created and made deliciously with Evan Williams Black Label, which is just fine for drinks and extremely inexpensive. If you want to make it a bit nicer, I’d say choose something without too much spice to make sure it doesn’t clash with the absinthe. The Elijah Craig Small Batch or the Evan Williams 10 Year, both also from the same distillery (Heaven Hill), would be great choices.
Pineapple Juice: This was fascinating. We made it with fresh pineapple juice and with cans of Dole, and tried them side-by-side, and the real twist was that cans of Dole tasted more “pineapple-y” than fresh. Your fresh juice will depend on the ripeness of your pineapples, and the bottom of the pineapple ripens before the top, so it’s kind of a moving target. Some bars like Smuggler’s Cove mix their pineapple canned and fresh just for consistency.
All that said, the staff was divided, 50-50. I preferred the subtlety of fresh pineapple juice, but many people felt the opposite. The upshot is to not go buy a juicer for this cocktail, it’s fine to use canned juice if that’s what you’ve got.
Simple Syrup: Simple Syrup, true to its name, is the simplest syrup you can get. It’s equal parts sugar and hot water, and you stir until the sugar dissolves. The speed of this will depend on your water temperature—room temp works, it just takes a couple minutes. Hot or boiling water will make simple syrup in less than 20 seconds.