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FAKING IT: VODKA FLAVORED WITH CELERY AND TEA: A SEMI-OFFICIAL REVIEW
by Corina Zappia
Village Voice, NY
April 24 2006
Modern Spirits Vodka's Grapefruit Honey infusion
photo: Corina Zappia
Occasionally we're thrown a compliment we don't quite deserve. A
PR rep or spirits company mistakes us for a seasoned oenophile or
fine-drink connoisseur, and an invite to an intimate tequila tasting
or a meal of beer-glazed specialties finds its way into our mailbox.
So we'll swirl the $60-a-bottle liquor in the glass, or take a gentle,
modest sip vs. the happy-hour whore gulp.
At a vodka-pairing dinner we were recently invited to, it is clear
they mistook us for a serious critic. The maker of a new line of
infused vodkas, Modern Spirits, had invited us to try his wares with
a few select experts and distributors. It was a huge compliment. It
was also seven vodkas in a row.
The night's recap:
Grapefruit Honey vodka Clean, sharp and vivid, grapefruit honey is
mildly tart with a hint of bitterness and a touch of sweetness from
a dollop of honey.
We walk into the private dining room at the Harrison and take our seat
with all the other people invited for the night's event-the executive
editor of Saveur, Wine & Spirits folks, the president of James
Beard. The boozing commences with the creator/owner explaining the
origins of his company-he would make special flavored vodkas for his
wife to take to family functions, as she found the vodka his Armenian
relatives normally drank a bit hard to swallow. A heartwarming tale
of the lengths one will go to for love, granted, but clearly not the
most aggressive PR: Grapefruit-honey vodka needs a grander marketing
scheme. Grapefruit-honey vodka needs Mr. T endorsements.
Celery Peppercorn vodka The ultimate power drink. The celery's green
bouquet is complemented by savory spices and a touch of heat from
Malabar peppercorn and dried red chilies.
This is our favorite: We like the peppery kick-it's like a bloody
mary without tomato juice-and can't help but notice at the end of the
party, all the foodie witches snatch away the freebie bottles of this
vodka first.
Black Truffle vodka Infused exclusively during the season, the
telltale scents of port, rich soil, pineapple and chocolate make this
a first-class libation.
It is around this time that the Wine & Spirits art director next
to us instructs us on the "swirl," and why people do it. When you
swirl the liquor in a glass, the motion stirs up the oxygen and
releases the aroma. It actually works, and then you are supposed to
inhale deeply into your drink. Now we feel bad for making fun of the
critics who face-dive into their liquor, for there we are, face-diving
ourselves. (No. That's a lie. We don't feel bad. It looks dumb.)
We have a hard time comparing the taste to truffle oil, our only
prior experience with this mushroom. Truffle oil never seems that
memorable to us, beyond the fact that it's expensive presence must
be formally announced whenever included in any dish.
Pear Lavender vodka Combining the lingering sweetness of pears with a
light touch of lavender creates an intimate and delicate infusion. It
is our ode to poetry.
We miss out on that ode for some reason. Nor can we taste the pear
or smell the lavender really. We have a feeling this is no reflection
on the liquor but has more to do with the multi-vodka diet we've been
on since the night began.
The evening wears on, and several more vodkas are tried: a candied
ginger (tastes exactly like ginger), tea (tastes like tea) and even
chocolate-orange (like eating a box of Godiva, without feeling like the
big fat pig you really are). We become completely wasted, drunkenly
catching our chair on the rug and stumbling to the bathroom, almost
spilling chocolate-orange vodka on our skirt, pushing past someone
to grab our free bottle of booze. We thank the alcohol maker for the
compliment of including us-then haul it out of there as fast as we can.
by Corina Zappia
Village Voice, NY
April 24 2006
Modern Spirits Vodka's Grapefruit Honey infusion
photo: Corina Zappia
Occasionally we're thrown a compliment we don't quite deserve. A
PR rep or spirits company mistakes us for a seasoned oenophile or
fine-drink connoisseur, and an invite to an intimate tequila tasting
or a meal of beer-glazed specialties finds its way into our mailbox.
So we'll swirl the $60-a-bottle liquor in the glass, or take a gentle,
modest sip vs. the happy-hour whore gulp.
At a vodka-pairing dinner we were recently invited to, it is clear
they mistook us for a serious critic. The maker of a new line of
infused vodkas, Modern Spirits, had invited us to try his wares with
a few select experts and distributors. It was a huge compliment. It
was also seven vodkas in a row.
The night's recap:
Grapefruit Honey vodka Clean, sharp and vivid, grapefruit honey is
mildly tart with a hint of bitterness and a touch of sweetness from
a dollop of honey.
We walk into the private dining room at the Harrison and take our seat
with all the other people invited for the night's event-the executive
editor of Saveur, Wine & Spirits folks, the president of James
Beard. The boozing commences with the creator/owner explaining the
origins of his company-he would make special flavored vodkas for his
wife to take to family functions, as she found the vodka his Armenian
relatives normally drank a bit hard to swallow. A heartwarming tale
of the lengths one will go to for love, granted, but clearly not the
most aggressive PR: Grapefruit-honey vodka needs a grander marketing
scheme. Grapefruit-honey vodka needs Mr. T endorsements.
Celery Peppercorn vodka The ultimate power drink. The celery's green
bouquet is complemented by savory spices and a touch of heat from
Malabar peppercorn and dried red chilies.
This is our favorite: We like the peppery kick-it's like a bloody
mary without tomato juice-and can't help but notice at the end of the
party, all the foodie witches snatch away the freebie bottles of this
vodka first.
Black Truffle vodka Infused exclusively during the season, the
telltale scents of port, rich soil, pineapple and chocolate make this
a first-class libation.
It is around this time that the Wine & Spirits art director next
to us instructs us on the "swirl," and why people do it. When you
swirl the liquor in a glass, the motion stirs up the oxygen and
releases the aroma. It actually works, and then you are supposed to
inhale deeply into your drink. Now we feel bad for making fun of the
critics who face-dive into their liquor, for there we are, face-diving
ourselves. (No. That's a lie. We don't feel bad. It looks dumb.)
We have a hard time comparing the taste to truffle oil, our only
prior experience with this mushroom. Truffle oil never seems that
memorable to us, beyond the fact that it's expensive presence must
be formally announced whenever included in any dish.
Pear Lavender vodka Combining the lingering sweetness of pears with a
light touch of lavender creates an intimate and delicate infusion. It
is our ode to poetry.
We miss out on that ode for some reason. Nor can we taste the pear
or smell the lavender really. We have a feeling this is no reflection
on the liquor but has more to do with the multi-vodka diet we've been
on since the night began.
The evening wears on, and several more vodkas are tried: a candied
ginger (tastes exactly like ginger), tea (tastes like tea) and even
chocolate-orange (like eating a box of Godiva, without feeling like the
big fat pig you really are). We become completely wasted, drunkenly
catching our chair on the rug and stumbling to the bathroom, almost
spilling chocolate-orange vodka on our skirt, pushing past someone
to grab our free bottle of booze. We thank the alcohol maker for the
compliment of including us-then haul it out of there as fast as we can.