Cognac Reconnaissance
Just when we were feeling comfortable with the French, along comes cognac: deep in flavor and high in alcohol, produced by what appears to be a time machine, packaged in bottles whose gilded labels are covered in logos, codes and script. It is sipped by Masters of the Universe in their smoky lairs, on their way to world domination…right?
Well the stock market is way down, but cognac is still around.
Sometimes your modest partisan is made to feel like an appraiser: welcomed into a nicely appointed abode, only to be shuttled to a cabinet of bottles. “Well…do I have anything good?” Often, the best I find will not be a wine, but a forgotten bouteille of cognac.
Cognac is distilled from fermented grapes grown around the town of the same name. There are five official growing regions, radiating from the greatest in the center, Grande Champagne (a magical name, no?). The specific white grapes used make poor wine – but perfect to boil, condense, and age into this rich, complex brandy.
The art of cognac remains unchanged for over three centuries, from its double distillation in copper pot stills of bulbous dimensions to its aging in oak barrels from Limoges, called limousin. A master taster oversees final blending to keep the taste profile consistent, similar to champagne. Hundreds of vineyards sell their own cognac, and the big brands have begun to market single-vineyard distillations with artisanal panache.
Cognac’s grading is pure Hip Hop shorthand: VS for Very Special (aged at least 2 years); VSOP for Very Superior Old Pale (at least 4) and XO for Extra Old (6 or more). Rappers rhyme cognac’s praises into their songs: if you are “looking XO”, it could be a good thing, as years in the barrel sends the price up!
The new audience is joined by cocktail crafters, wielding cognac’s signature in new libations. Hopefully it will keep my brethren from being too precious with their spirit. Their traditions are, after all, heavily mandated, regulated and protected by the government – hear that, Banking System? Call it Socialism – I salute with a snifter of its rewards.