In Germany? I don’t recall having seen the term applied to anything other than the clear, vodka-like stuff. Herbal infusions are invariably referred to as Kräuterlikör (“herbal liqueur”). Catalogs and menus always list the two separately.
I had thought so, too, and that was my experience, but I looked it up in Wikipedia to double check, and the article referred to kräutlikör as a type of schnapps, so I hedged in case the term is used more expansively either colloquially or regionally. Almost all the schnapps I’ve ever had was in Austria and Southern Germany (Bavaria and Swabia), so I didn’t want to make that assumption. (Though it seems I could have made that assumption. I don’t really see any other cite that uses the word in this way.)
(And then where I lived in Central Europe, we had pálinka, which was essentially the same thing, and most usually referred to the distilled clear fruit or pomace brandies. But there were a few exceptions. There are some that have been aged and take on color, some have had macerated fruit added to them after distillation, also producing color and some sweetness, and some that are sweetened with honey [though there is a minimum 35% ABV legally on pálinka]. So I wanted to hedge in case it was the same thing in Germany. But, yeah, stuff like Unicum, a kräutlikör, would not be referred to as a pálinka there, either.)
Austria, in particular, has a wealth of various fruit schnapps (although it seems like they might call them something different there) that are really, really good and when chased down with a few steins of Ottakringer or Zpifer, dangerously potent.
My favorites are pear or apricot, and I while was initially surprised that there was almost no sweetness to them, and the fruit flavor was overall very subtle, perhaps like other aquired tastes, I really developed an enthusiasm for them, much more than the cloyingly sweet fruit wodkas that are omnipresent here in Poland.
Well, while we are on the subject, I need to get a bottle of absinthe. How do I get the good stuff?
Oh, you’re talking about all the nalewki aren’t you? Yeah, those can get quite cloying, but I enjoy them, too. My mother and father make a whole bunch every year, like pretty much every good Polish family. That said, you can find śliwowica (slivovitz/plum schnapps) in Poland, too. Look for this.
My favorite will always be plum brandy, as that’s what introduced me to the clear fruit brandies back when I was volunteering in Western Slavonia (Croatia). Every Wednesday morning at the market in Pakrac, you could buy all your typical fruits, vegetables, and staples, but rakija/slivovica also took up a good portion of the market. There were maybe a half dozen or so producers of homemade spirits. And they all offered free samples, so you could get absolutely sloshed just shopping. What impressed me was the range of quality. You’d taste rakija that tasted like it was distilled from plums with dirt on them (I mean, like an actual “soil” taste to the distillate) to clean brandies that were the alcoholic essence of the fruit.f
But, beyond that, in Hungary, my favorite type of pálinka, among the common ones, was either the plum or the William pear. The other most common types were apricot and cherry. Or even a blend of fruits. But if I include the less common varieties, the most interesting and tasty one I’ve come across was white mulberry pálinka. I wasn’t even able to find it last time I was in Budapest, so perhaps it was just a very rare variety. The quince one is also pretty interesting.
And, yes, I’ve had friends bring me back phenomenal schanapps from Austria.
Just avoid the Czech stuff, go for the French, and you should be fine. (It’s possible there are good Czech absinthes out there–I just haven’t heard or tasted them.) In particular, avoid Hill’s (if they even still sell it. Yuck.) You can’t go wrong with Pernod Absinthe. It’s traditional and I’d think it should be easy to find. But that’s just a very basic recommendation. I’m not an absinthe connoisseur, but I’ve at least had terrible absinthe and good absinthe (it helps if you like the flavor of licorice, like I do. If you don’t, you’ll find all absinthe terrible.)
Ha, ain’t that the prawda?
In fact just last night, I was over at my fiancee’s friend’s home for a little inpromptu get-together where I was offered some “homegrown” wisniowa that was sublime; perfectly smooth, not overly sweet, at least by Polish standards (still a bit too sweet for me to personally want more than a couple of shots of in a given evening, but nothing like the commercially made brands which are like drinking cherry NyQuil with additional sugar stirred in) and with a kick that was obvious yet not overly brutal, which is important, given the strength of Polish piwo, which is almost NEVER under 5.5% alc., and usually stronger than that…
Yeah, in our family, it’s not generally something you would drink a bottle of throughout the night; just maybe a shot or two of, with vodka or cognac or something being the more common spirit drunk through the night. Certainly something after dinner, like your typical digestif.
My folks have some really nice ones made with raspberry (malinówka) and red currants (porzeczkówka) made with real fruit. I didn’t even realize my folks grew red currants in their backyard until a couple weeks ago! They also play around with lemon (citronówka–this one shows up at Polish weddings here all the time as a gift to the guests) and they’ve really been into aronia lately (which I guess would be called aroniówka, following the naming convention.) And my dad has all sorts of herbal infusions he likes to do (although it’s been awhile since he’s done one.) Some people take the shortcut of just blending vodka or spyritus with fruit syrups. That stuff doesn’t come out that great. And there is a time element involved. I’m not sure of the chemistry behind it, but the infusion definitely mellows and becomes more well-rounded over time. It’s usually at least 3 months before it’s drinkable, and more like 6-12 to reach peak.
I have to run out for the night and I don’t want to veer this thread off-topic, but I am curious about your Polish heritage.
I have been here 3 years this month, and am convinced that Poland is Europe’s (if not the world’s) “Undiscovered Gem”.
I have been fortunate enough to have spent time in over 25 countries around the globe (I get that is not particularly a lot for many Europeans, but for most Americans I would say that is not too shabby) and the Polish people as a whole have a warmth and an openness, it seems in particular towards Americans, that is truly touching and humbling to experience.
I was born here in the US, but my parents were both born in Poland (mom from a farming town village of Krakow, dad from Zakopane, but from the city, so he doesn’t have the characteristic Highlander accent) and came to the US in their late teens/early 20s. I grew up speaking Polish as my first language, but my command of Polish today isn’t quite that of a native’s, as my vocabulary acquisition really stopped at around third or fourth grade level. Obviously, I’ve picked some more complicated words up since then, and while I can think in Polish and talk in Polish without any thinking, sometimes I’m missing words for abstract concepts that would not be useful to a fourth grader. 
I’ve been to Poland about eight times, usually for a month each, but my last visit was all the way back in 2000. My mother’s entire side of the family still lives there. Poland definitely has an affinity with America (there was a lot of American support during the Solidarity years, a good portion of the Polish diaspora is located in the States, especially here in Chicago, and even some of the more conservative aspects of politics are similar in Poland.) I also lived in Budapest from 1998-2003, and Hungarians are another legendary friend of the Poles.
Was it this one, perhaps? (They also make a variety from purple mulberries.)
There are shops here devoted entirely to absinthe, so if you have time, you could visit one and ask for a recommendation. I know there is an absinthe shop in Berlin and I’m sure I’ve seen others—maybe in Frankfurt? (Googling doesn’t turn anything up, though I know I saw one around here fairly recently.)
No, not that one. It was this one. The name in Hungarian is fehér eper, which may seem to translate as “white strawberry” (the usual word for strawberry in Hungarian is “eper,” but it can also mean mulberry. It is usually disambiguated with the word “faeper” (tree strawberry) vs “földieper” (ground strawberry.) But the little drawing there also makes it clear we’re talking mulberries.