Though the dancers were fluther’d and bet He was tootin’ with skill for each sparkling quadrille There was old Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute We had eight million bales of old nanny goats’ tails We had five million hogs, had six million dogs We had three million sides of old blind horses’ hides We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags She’d stood several blasts, she had twenty-seven masts ‘Twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks On the fourth of July eighteen hundred and six Its lyrics are unambiguous: “ 51 I love you, I would drink barrels of it. The French praise it so well that they even dedicated it their most famous drinking song: “ 51 je t’aime“.
And you’ll start enjoying your own 51, without even noticing that it contain (only) 45° of alcohol. Pending on his mood, he will serve you a generous portion (at least two ounces generally more) along with a beaded carafe of water. When you order pastis the waiter will propose you either a 51, a Pernod or a Ricard – do not bother, they are basically all the same. What to order? Pastis of course! This anise-flavoured liqueur is the French national, versatile and much-loved drink. The sun is shining, you already had a delicious baguette and some cheese to go with it and you are now observing some French people playing pétanque. Imagine sitting in any of thousands of Provence’s outdoor cafes in southern France.
