It\u2019s just after 9pm in drizzly Belleville, Paris. Too late for cocktails, too early for bedtime, but up the steep hill that straddles the 19th and 20th arrondissements, digestif hour is in sight.<\/p>\n
In the past few years, more and more Parisians have been reaching for a glass of Chartreuse, an intensely green\/yellow herbal liqueur with a folkloric backstory involving Carthusian monks, cholera and a recipe of omert\u00e0-like secrecy.<\/p>\n
There are several types, of varying strengths, colours and prices, but none are that easy to find. At La Commune, a cultish leftwing hangout in Belleville, where tequila shots cost less than \u20ac4, they finished the Chartreuse the night before. A few doors down at Les Triplettes de Belleville, I spot a third-full bottle of the cheaper yellow stuff sandwiched between the gins. Hugo C\u00e9sard, the 19-year-old bartender, pours me a \u20ac7 shot, my third of the night. On first taste, it behaves like ouzo: sweet, fennelly, cloyingly thick. Then you hit the more complex notes, which are closer to an Alpine meadow. This one is a navy-strength 40% ABV, while the green version is about 55%. In theAlps, you\u2019re more likely to drink it in hot chocolate. To down it at room temperature is sacrilege, unless \u201cyou want to get very drunk\u201d, says C\u00e9sard. For me, alas, that ship has already sailed.<\/p>\n
Hugo C\u00e9sard pours a shot of Chartreuse for Morwenna Ferrier at Les Triplettes de Belleville in Paris. Photograph: Magali Deporte\/The Guardian<\/p>\n
Round the corner at Combat, an edgy-cool bar run by women and frequented by thoughtful students and dressed-up boomers, they mostly serve it cold in a crystal-cut sipping glass or a cocktail called The Last Word, mixed with gin, lime and a maraschino cherry. I try both. Combat bartender Marie-Paule Corby, 30, loves its \u201ccomplicated flavour\u201d, though outside, a customer called Nour (also 30) is not a fan. \u201cI only ever drank it in the Alps. Too sweet for me,\u201d she says, and sticks out her tongue in disgust.<\/p>\n
You\u2019ll find Chartreuse in most ambitiously stocked bars, but interest among younger drinkers shot up mostly after the pandemic, says Theo, who works in La Cave Pigalle, a small chic wine shop in Pigalle in the 9th arrondissement. The same thing happened in the US, where it became a \u201csleeper\u201d ingredient during the giddy era of the craft cocktail movement of the early 00s. Then came lockdown, and a taste for the weirder, top-shelf stuff grew further still, particularly here.<\/p>\n
Brother Laurent, a Carthusian monk, making the liqueur in a factory near the Grande Chartreuse monastery in Dauphine, south-eastern France, in 1953. Photograph: Bert Hardy\/Getty Images<\/p>\n
At the award-winning, taxidermy-filled bar Satan\u2019s Whiskers in east London, it appears in various cocktails. The Pig on the Beach on Dorset\u2019s Jurassic coast sells five different types, one of which \u2013 the Eau de Vie from 1941 \u2013 costs \u00a350 a measure. It\u2019s always been pricey, though disaster hit in 2021 when the Carthusian monks suddenly announced plans to cap production in order to \u201cprotect their monastic life and devote their time to solitude and prayer\u201d. In a letter in 2021<\/a>, they said: \u201cMaking millions of cases does not make sense in today\u2019s environmental context and will have a negative impact on the planet in the very short term\u201d, though rumour has it the decree came from the Vatican, which pointedly reminded the monks \u201cthat they were monks, not businessmen\u201d<\/a>. Today, according to a spokesperson for Chartreuse, the brand is shifting its focus back toward herbalism.<\/p>\n Back in Paris, at the beloved bottle shop La Cave de Belleville, Chartreuse is scarce. \u201cWe have an allocation \u2013 24 bottles of green and 24 bottles of yellow, but that\u2019s for a year\u201d, says Remy Pousse-Vaillant, 46, a knowledgable liquor expert with a Kandinsky tattoo. There are currently five on the shelf, but that\u2019s it until the next order. Under French consumer law, any item displayed with a visible price is considered sellable, which is partly why some caves stash the good stuff in the basement. The brand won\u2019t divulge the numbers, only to say that they keep half and export half to the US, Japan, Australia, and \u201ccountries surrounding the Alpine arc\u201d. They only make what they need to sustain the order, though Pousse-Vaillant thinks it\u2019s not much over 1m bottles worldwide. Like most wine shop staff, he will neither confirm nor deny if he\u2019s got Chartreuse in the basement.<\/p>\n Chartreuse is popular at spots such as Les Triplettes de Belleville in Paris. Photograph: Magali Deporte\/The Guardian<\/p>\n