France: Making Much of a Mess

The French have taste-tested Scotch whisky, Russian vodka, even American colas, but when aperitif time rolls around they remain stubbornly French, call for a Dubonnet, a Byrrh, a Cinzano or—most popular of all—a pastis.

Sort of a sippin’ cousin to Greek ouzo or Turkish raki, pastis is a golden thirst quencher from the south of France that combines alcohol, herbs, licorice and anise and is mixed with water; the name in Provencal dialect literally means “mess.” More than 350 brands are available, but Frenchmen usually call for a Ricard. As a result, Ricard Inc. has become the biggest aperitif maker in France, last year produced 30.6 million bottles, with sales of $66 million.

At a Safe Distance. The company’s founder and chairman, Paul Ricard, 56, is a flamboyant fellow who revels in the title “the Aperitif King of France.” The son of a Marseille wine merchant, Ricard once had notions of being an artist; his practical father insisted, however, that he learn to earn a living first. Ricard turned from palette to pastis making, took over the family bathroom as his laboratory and distillery, added licorice to the standard pastis recipe to improve (or maybe to kill) the usual flavor. Perhaps an even better salesman than distiller, he drummed up a thriving trade for his bathroom booze among bistro owners at a safe distance from his home in Marseille: that way, they were not apt to visit his “factory.” By World War II, when alcohol shortages suspended operations, Ricard had moved into a genuine factory, was selling 3,640,000 bottles annually.

Ricard sustained himself and his employees during the war by introducing rice culture to France. He drained 2,100 acres of the Camargue. a brackish swamp west of Marseille, pumped in fresh water, raised crops that led to an industry that has made France self-sufficient in rice. At war’s end Ricard returned to pastis making. As Frenchmen flocked to the Riviera for sun and fun, they picked up the pastis habit, demanded what Ricard calls his “sunshine in a bottle” when they got home. With rising orders from all of France, Ricard’s production went from 3,800,000 bottles in 1949 to 16 million in 1959. The company eventually built seven other plants across France, has two more under way, including one at Dijon in the Burgundy wine country. Eight bottling plants have also been opened in other European nations and in North Africa: this year Ricard is contemplating the American market. One problem: Americans, who like ice in their drinks, will discover that it congeals the licorice into a gooey glob.

Busier Than the French Line. Ricard spends much of his time on the Riviera, last week played host there to a varied list that included Red Chinese diplomats, Ricard truck drivers, private secretaries attending conventions and Italian Film Maker Roberto Rossellini. He leaves pastis operations to subordinates. “I’m not here to run the business day to day,” he tells them, “but to foresee the future.” Cushioning that future, Ricard has expanded into mineral water, fruit juices, cognac, wine and vermouth.

He also owns extensive real estate in the south of France, including two Mediterranean islands. Bendor, the smaller one, has hotels, clubs and a convention hall. “Over 300,000 tourists take my boat to Bendor every year,” brags Ricard. “That’s more than the French Line transports across the Atlantic.” The larger island, Embiez, is being developed, with yacht basins, luxury hotels, a casino and theater. Looking well ahead, Ricard grandly calls it “the resort of the year 2000.”