This is the first in a series of entries, entitled"Gold Standards" intended to illustrate a number of alcoholic beverages which I consider to be the benchmark against which all other similar booze should be measured. These individual spirits do not necessarily constitute the BEST of their respective type, but rather a good point against which to measure various competitors. In order to qualify as a Gold Standard, a booze must be extremely but not exceptionally tasty, and must be available at an accessible price point. This price point will of course vary considerably between different kinds of spirits: the gold standard Bourbon is almost by definition going to be cheaper than the gold standard Scotch. Beyond that, its mainly my personal taste which will decide who holds the throne at any given moment. I do recognize however, that sometimes my tastes can lie rather considerably beyond the boundaries of the main stream, and in instances where I believe my selection has been tainted by personal idiosyncrasy, I will be certain to mention such.
Now, all that being said, lets begin! Tonight, our spotlight is on: Brandy. Brandy is probably the spirit that mid-level alcohol enthusiasts are least likely to be familiar with. I imagine this is because the market seems to be very much segregated into the cheap and grotesquely sweet and cheap (Christian Brothers et al.) and the delicious but financially inaccessible(insert $100+/bottle cognac of choice). There does in fact exist a wide range of perfectly decent, $30 bottles of brandy, but lacking the easy marketability of Vodka or Bourbon, they have been largely ignored. Well I have made it my personal mission to access these poor neglected spirits, and bring my results back to you.
Unfortunately for my adventurous spirit, this seems to be a puzzle to which the answer is already known. Asbach Uralt is about $25-$30 a bottle, and absolutely delicious. It is also very unique, for it is neither Spanish nor French, but German. I would be lying if I said that both the fact and uniqueness of its national origin did not play at least some part in my fondness for this particular booze. There is something deeply satisfying about telling someone that they are drinking German brandy and having them reply "Germans make brandy?"
Of course, all of that would be meaningless, were not the golden draught itself a delightful substance. A slightly red-ish golden color, it posseses a moderatly thick mouth-feel, silkier than most bourbons or scotches, but in no way approaching the suffocatingly velvet embrace of a liqueur such as un-diluted St. Germain. The taste, is as if someone put just enough honey into a glass of grappa to make it not hurt quite so much.
There is a honey flavor, moderate and toasty, regulating the harshness of the alchohol without really qualifying as sweet. But beyond that lies the really important part of this glass: the lurking complexity of a thousand grapes, fortified to a stinging intensity, but having lost none of their subtlety. They remind one of the best dry notes out of a good cab franc, smooth and lingering.
Thats it, my golden standard against which I compare all brandies. Stick around, and you'll get to share as I continue my endless quest to find something better than the best that I've found.
