Imagine there is an elite black tie club which has always controlled who walks in through its hallowed portals. Conversations are no more than a whisper and to show any leanings other than the ones that suit the bourgeoisie are to be considered too maverick to be tolerated. In such a preserved stiff clan arrives a young chap, sneakers, tattoos, sunglasses, large headphones, sporting all the accoutrements of what the old school would consider poor breeding and a severe lack of any establishmentarianism. The fervour against such non-compliance would be more than sufficient to never let said person even lurk around the club premises.
Now imagine if he (or she) manages to not only walk into the club’s property but also establish his or her own identity. It takes time, sure, but soon enough the new kind on the block comes to be the element that is breathing a new life into the region while the oldies fade and wither all around, trying the same tested gimmicks to stay relevant. And even as the geysers realise that change is imminent — not to mention, in their case, urgent — they are trying to cling on the dying roots of a beaten tree, while the new entity blossoms and blooms bringing much fragrance to an otherwise decrepit garden.
Metaphors all done and dealt, this my friends is pretty much the story of Grey Goose, that famous vodka from France which is made in the region of Cognac. Yes, it’s almost blasphemous, like saying the best butter chicken will one day hail from the region of Chettinad, or that Bengalis will fly to Gujarat for the best Daab-Chingri.
Thankfully, in my lifetime, those last two won’t happen. But the fact that a vodka brand has gone and established a sort of supremacy in a region which is so utterly different from it’s own DNA, is quite a story. Cognac is made from grapes and aged endlessly before being sold. Vodka is made from wheat and never aged. Cognac insists on being drunk neat whereas vodka is all about being mixed. Cognac evokes images of studies with hunting trophies lining where old people sit in their velvet jackets and sip this quietly with a cigar in one hand and a grave political discussion to anoint the atmosphere. Vodka says party from the word go.
And yet this brand, headed by a Francois Thibault, a formidable man from Cognac who has dedicated his life to distillates, is an established phenomenon. He managed to use the best of his knowledge and locally-available ingredients to craft a drink like none other. I don't wish to extol its virtues any more than one needs to — marketing spiels is not my thing — but to start a category called super premium vodkas and then to eternally dominate it sure needs a good product at the heart of it.
I am not a big vodka fan, I even prefer my martinis with gin, and yet, recently I found a soothing white spirit to enjoy in their VX variant, or the Pear flavour variant which was made by macerating fresh pears. Again, it may not be the most coveted liquor in my bar but it sure has more than earned its place, a place closer to reach than my bottles of Cognac which sit and gather dust for that one day when I am in a velvet jacket and feel like discussing all that is going wrong with the world. And even then, when we all feel too much despair, we’ll shift to something lighter, like vodka!
The author is India's first sommelier, food, wine and travel writer and TV show host. In his free time he works .
