Boozehound - Jason Wilson [96]
More than a dozen cognacs went for more than $1,000 that night. I witnessed a Dupuy Folle Blanche sell for €2,700, a forty-year-old Delamain for €3,000, a 1975 Hine for €3,200, the Frapin Très Vieille Grande for €5,000. Martell in a crystal decanter painted with twenty-carat gold got snapped up for €5,500.
During the bidding, Gabriel had opened up a very special bottle of Pierre Ferrand, the seventy-year-old Ancestrale, and poured a few of us a glass. This was a real pour, too, not like the usual quarter-ounce pours that we usually do professional tastings with. This was a true glassful, to drink. And after about half an hour, another glass. Ancestrale does not have the pedigree of, say, the cognacs that were being auctioned at La Part des Anges, but it’s certainly no slouch. If you find it for sale, it’s usually got a price tag north of seven hundred dollars. Of course, being a professional, I’m happy to answer your questions about it. Was it amazing? Yes. Impossible to describe? Yes. Worth it? Hmm … that’s not so straightforward.
Finally, a silly statue of an angel sold for €4,000, and the auction was over. No dancing afterward. No more drinks. Just adieu, bonsoir! “Well, it’s not Paris,” someone said. Gabriel could see that the journalists’ night, however, was probably not over. There was still about half the bottle of Ancestrale left, so he asked me if I wanted to take it with me. “Really?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “And I must be drunk. Because I’ve never given a bottle of Ancestrale to anyone that I’ve just met. But you seem like a man of good taste.”
At that, I nearly doubled over with laughter. If you only knew, sir, I thought. Yes, dear reader, it’s been quite a long, boozy road from my suburban Jersey youth to being the sort of man to be trusted with a bottle of seven-hundred-dollar cognac. Even here, having had my job for three years, and being looked to as some sort of expert on the topic of booze, I still felt like an imposter. I still felt like that kid sneaking a bottle of sambuca out of my parents’ cabinet.
I shook hands with Gabriel, tucked the bottle under my coat, and walked out of the tent. I crossed the bridge over the Charente and stepped onto the bus that would take all of the journalists back to the town of Cognac. I settled into my seat and opened up my coat. Yes, to my disbelief, I was still sitting there with a bottle of seventy-year-old cognac. In Cognac. Every once in a while, I have a moment like this, when I need to pinch myself in wonder if this is really my life.
So what did I do? Well, old habits die hard. Dear reader, I popped that Ancestrale open and took a big, big swig—straight from the bottle. And then I smiled and took another one. Then I saw one of my fellow journalists sitting next to me looking very, very jealous. So, of course, what else could I do? I passed the bottle across the aisle. “Cheers,” I said. Before long, it was all gone.
A Round of Drinks:
Apple of My Eye
Says Christian Drouin, Calvados producer, “I am always amazed when I go into a bar in the United States and the man or woman behind the bar takes my product, thinks for a few minutes, and then makes a cocktail on the spot. And usually the result is very interesting.”
APPLE BRANDY OLD-FASHIONED
Serves 1
This drink wonderfully showcases your choice of apple brandy. Whether you use a Calvados or a domestic product such as Laird’s apple brandy or Clear Creek Eau-de-Vie de Pomme, the spirit’s unique characteristics and flavor profile will come through.
1 teaspoon pure maple syrup
2 dashes Angostura bitters
2 ounces apple brandy
Combine the maple syrup and bitters in an old-fashioned glass, then add the apple brandy and 2 or 3 ice cubes. Stir gently for 10 seconds.
Adapted from a recipe by Misty Kalkofen of Green Street, Cambridge, Massachusetts
DELLA MELA
Serves 1
This drink features the brown, bitter, orange–flavored Italian soda called chinotto, which turns