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That
special
“little
water”
of life
The
other
night at
one of
Baltimore’s
trendy
little
hot
spots, I
observed
seven
stylish
young
women
toast
their
absent
boyfriends
with
frosty
shots of
Vox
Vodka.
Not only
were
they
drinking
straight
vodka,
they had
asked
for an
expensive
one by
name.
Then, I
noticed
the
disproportionately
large
array of
vodkas
on
display.
The
pricey
vodkas
in fancy
bottles
included
a blue
one, an
interlocking
set of
Tanqueray
Sterling
vodka
packaged
with
nonalcoholic
flavorings,
and
vodkas
already
flavored
with
orange,
currant,
coffee,
and
vanilla.
Vanilla
vodka!
Clearly,
there’s
something
going on
here. I
ordered
another
Chopin
on the
rocks
and gave
this
phenomenon
serious
thought.
What
exactly
is
vodka’s
appeal?
“I think
it’s
just the
smoothness,”
my
bartender
said
when
asked.
“It’s
like
water,
very
palatable.”
Vodka is
the
number
one
spirit
at this
local
establishment.
Characterizing
her
clientele
as young
professionals
who live
and work
in the
city,
this
barkeep
observed,
“They
prefer
high-end
spirits.
Vox is
our
best-selling
vodka,
and more
often
than
not,
they
drink it
straight
up. In a
martini,
a lot of
them
prefer
Belvedere
because
it’s
heavier,
though
not
necessarily
smoother.”
Exalted
for
being
flavorless
(sort
of), the
luxury
brands
of vodka
are a
bare
reminder
of aroma
and
taste.
More
than
anything,
it’s the
way
vodka
feels,
not to
mention
the
sensation
you get
as you
observe
the
chilled,
thick
viscosity
of the
vodka
being
poured
into a
glass.
(There's
also
another
sense,
which
some
call
non-sense,
or
having a
few too
many.
Dorothy
Parker,
the New
York
writer,
perhaps
said it
best in
an
infamous
quote:
“I like
to have
a
martini,
but only
two at
most.
After
three
I'm
under
the
table,
four,
I'm
under
the
host.”)
Is
there,
then, no
such
thing as
rough
vodka?
Of
course
there
is, but
nobody
talks
about
it, and
certainly
nobody
pays $30
a bottle
for it.
Most
vodka
is, in
fact, as
smooth
and
pleasant
as a
crude
petroleum
product;
wait
several
seconds
before
lighting
a
cigarette.
A
mouthful
of
inexpensive
vodka
feels
like
what it
is—high-proof
ethyl
alcohol.
Expecting
most
vodka to
be
smooth,
fat, and
pleasant
is
expecting
a
miracle.
And yet,
miracles
do
happen.
Only a
few
vodkas
are so
smooth
that
they
draw
comment
and get
requested
by name
in bars
and
liquor
stores,
and they
are all
expensive.
We’re
talking
about a
small
class of
vodkas—maybe
a dozen,
not
counting
the
flavored
spirits
such as
Absolut
Citron,
Stolichnaya
Pertsovka
(pepper-flavored),
and
Finlandia
Pineapple.
My
favorite
vodka,
Chopin,
is a
Polish
potato-based
vodka.
However,
my
preference
for
Chopin
doesn’t
mean I’m
not open
for new
experiences.
What
prompts
me to
try new
vodka is
the
promise
of
purity.
With new
luxury
vodkas
on the
market,
I focus
on
quality
and
value,
but
let’s
face
it—looks
count
for
something,
too. I
love
what
vodka
means:
“little
water.”
I've
always
enjoyed
the
curious
quest of
testing
the
latest
“little
water”
of life.
Why go
for the
basic
brand
when you
can jolt
those
little
visual
neurotransmitters
in your
brain
before
letting
the
liquid
Prozac
take
over?
Today,
the
ultra-premium
end of
the
vodka
market
is
ultra-dynamic,
as new
companies
(and new
products
from
established
companies)
continue
to test
the
willingness
of
spirits
drinkers
to spend
more
money
than
ever on
vodka.
Most of
these
branded
versions
of a
colorless,
tasteless
spirit
rely on
some
kind of
marketing
gimmick.
After
all, if
your
product
is
supposed
to have
as
little
character
as
possible,
what do
you tell
the
consumer?
Less is
more in
the
spirit
itself,
but
marketers
have
learned
to add
value by
hooking
the
consumer
on
elaborate
details
of
production
and
image.
Is it
any
wonder
that, in
America,
vodka
outsells
gin,
rum, and
tequila,
as well
as
scotch,
bourbon,
and
Canadian
whiskey?
Vodka.
It’s a
simple
drink.
It’s a
lot like
that
little
black
dress
every
woman
seems to
have.
You can
enjoy it
in
austere
purity.
You can
love it
for its
sense of
style in
a
classic
martini.
You can
go a
little
wild
with
fruit
juices
or
liqueurs,
just
like you
can wear
a great
pair of
Jimmy
Choos
with
your
little
black
dress.
Whatever
you do,
try not
to get
in a
rut.
With
vodka,
anything
is
possible.
Ditto
that
little
black
dress.
As the
saying
goes,
“It’s
five
o’clock
somewhere,”
cheers.
I’ll
have
another
Chopin
please.
Rocks.
Twist.
Thanks. |