Distillation began in the East as a science, but it was the West which truly knew how to make it an art form and enjoy it. I’m sure you know of cognac. Maybe even Armagnac. And to even try and feign ignorance on the subject of single malts in India would only be considered frivolously jocund. Then there is gin, another popular distillate. What about vodka? Yes, we were all there once. And tequila? The trouble is that most of our memories associated with the beverage are scarring, and considering how much tequila they involved, mostly blurry. Well, to set the record straight, both tequila and Mezcal are class acts from Mexico, but only when you drink them right, which involves basically not shooting them.
But how many other spirits can you name? If I further narrow it down to fruit-based distillates, chances are, many will draw a blank. Surely not everyone in Europe can afford cognac? It isn’t called economic recession for nothing. Unless cognac is the reason they are in this financial mess in the first place.
Moving on to more pleasant thoughts, most countries that make wine are stuck with the problem of having to find a use for all the grape skins once the juice has been extracted and the wine made. The crushed berries still hold some (alcoholic) potential in their folds, so a smart option is to mix them with water and distil the wash to obtain a clear alcoholic spirit, one that was vile when raw, but upon ageing, took on a mellower note. This was Marc, a rustic French brandy, but the popular drink of the masses, the kind that Wilde possibly immortalised when he described work as the “curse of the drinking classes”. And it was popular not just in France; the Italian version was called Grappa and was so acrid that I suspect it was what inspired St. Ambrose to proffer the polite advice, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.” Else Augustine of Hippo would have definitely refused this liver-dissolving bile. But I jest.
And digress. What about the other countries in Europe? Surely they too had alcohol to support. Would you believe that alcohol is the one thing which knits us all together? It is the common thread that passes through all societies and all times in our history. Back to our favourite indulgence (still alcohol), the Hungarians made Palinka, but instead of being limited by grapes, they chose fruits instead. This gives a characteristic aroma while remaining stiff as a horse’s hoof on the palate. But how can you not wish to gulp something that smells of sweet apricots up front, for it isn’t until the spirit has burnt a significant portion of your oesophagus do you realise what you have just ingested.
Similarly, you will find Raki in Jordan and Turkey and Ouzo in Greece and Cyprus. Made from the daughter-of-Absinthe anise, they are related to the famous French aperitif (and if you live in the South, main course and dessert), Pastis. It’s very popular with college kids, for it mixes best with tap water which, unlike colas and lemonade, is freely available. To drink it as a grown-up means that you’re retired, or jobless. And ironically, that’s Europe for you today.
The Portuguese have Medronho, which is almost exclusively made by farmers and comes with no warning on the label, which is in flagrant contrast to almost anything European; suffice to say that its nickname ‘Firewater’ is all the warning one will ever need. The Spanish have brandies and rums and the label, rather than the taste, is a good way to distinguish from the cheaper ones. The Dutch, for all their lack of a culinary culture, have gin, which is perhaps the best thing to have happened to them since Rembrandt and Gullit. And then there’s Genepí, which could possibly not be more contrasting in character to the soft-spoken, well-mannered Swiss who make it.
So having consistently lambasted every possible traditional distillate out there, what do I have to say in defence? Nothing really, just that they are an acquired taste. I know this for a fact since I myself truly look forward to some of these when I travel.
They always go down hard, no matter how often you have had them before, but the two things I can positively state about them are that, one, no germs could survive in such conditions so one might consider this as a detox and two, compared to that sorghum-based poison from China called ‘Baijiu’, these are absolute elixirs!
