I was reading through an old Atlantic magazine (June 2009) which had lain forgotten on my cluttered desk when I came across the most absurd article ever. Apparently there is now signature ice at your better drinking establishments. There is a bar in Chicago that features eight different kinds of ice, type to be selected being dependent upon your cocktail. It seems that normal bar ice is too cold and chills the drink to quickly, and the ice melts too quickly causing the drink to go flat. We are a fallen culture.

But this brings me to a teaser story from Montreal before I post my actual report. The Hotel Intercontinental featured an absinthe bar. Ian suggested we go wild and crazy, give it a try and see if we were moved to write nihilistic poetry after imbibing the Green Fairy.

Our guide into this debauchery was Walter Jon because he had drunk absinthe I think in Croatia when he was guest of honor there. As the waitress approached our table carrying _the fountain_, Walter explained that every good vice requires a ritual. Absinthe has an elaborate ritual.

First there is the fountain. It is a glass vial held aloft by a silver fairy whose pierced wings flare out behind her as if she is flying toward you eager to have you embrace addiction. The vial hold ice and water. On four sides of the vial are small silver spouts with tiny spigots on top.
The waitress splashed absinthe into our glasses, then placed a silver strainer that was shaped exactly like the fairy