Vodka. You’ve known it since junior year in high school. It’s what you stole from your folks’ liquor cabinet. What you swilled with Gatorade or Jolt in your best friend’s parents’ basement bar. What your girlfriend inhaled with diet Sprite the night she vomited all over your dashboard. It’s what your first fuck had probably been drinking. And most of all the rest since.
It’s what the freshman girls sucked out of squeeze bottles, mixed 1:1 with Crystal Light. What the neighbor with the medicated stare sips from those tumblers sitting on her deck. A sneaky, underhanded drunk… The fount of those terrible thoughts, like “I can pull out in time,” or “What? It’s just an M-80…” The cause of that lost night in Georgetown, where you passed out and woke up in the kitchen, a topless girl next to you on the tile, an open bag of cold cuts in your lap.
Vodka’s been with you forever, wherever you’ve found yourself drinking – the ultimate shape-shifting liquor. Screwdrivers, Greyhounds and Hurricanes… Southamptons, Cape Cods and Bay Breezes… White Russians, Red Deaths and those disgusting shots of Sex on the Beach – the ones you choked down at sorority cocktails. All of them made with vodka. And you’ve known it in all its forms, from the rotgut Banker’s Club sewage you drank in fraternity basements, to the Stoli in your Sunday morning bloodys, to the frozen Smirnoff in the Lemon Drops the paralegals suck back at happy hour.
But you’ve probably never thought about it much. Figured vodka was just a neutral spirit, a fuel more than a beverage. And that’s a shame, because vodka’s complicated – a lot more than its alcoholic proof. It’s a nuanced flavor, of course. But when you’ve drunk it enough, you know it, and you learn the good from the bad. I’ve imbibed a fair amount of vodka – enough to appreciate the difference – and when I’m in the mood for the stuff, these are the top five I choose (in order of preference):
5. Hangar One
An oddball pick to start with – vodka made in San Francisco, and yes, in an old airplane hangar. But this isn’t a novelty choice. This is premium, small batch liquor, better by a mile and half than the other top shelf grain based brands like Belvedere or Grey Goose (more on that shite later). I can’t say it’s packed full of flavor. This vodka trades more on its clarity. And that it brings the palate in spades. From the start through the last of the finish, there’s not a single offensive sensation. It’s a got a bit of a burn at the front, and it doesn’t mellow much going down, but it’s clean and sharp the whole way.
Mixer: I’m conflicted. It’s good with a handful of ice cubes, but it’s also good to mix with Red Bull. Yeah, I know… Who mixes the high end shit with an energy drink? Me. Why? Because Red Bull kills the flavor of most vodkas. You feel like you’re drinking some horrid mix of Limoncello and tonic. This is one of those rare vodkas that doesn’t disappear under the citrus and carbonation, however much of the “weekend warrior’s liquid cocaine” you pour on top of it.
Ideal for: Yourself. It’s not the easiest vodka to find. Keep this bottle hidden from guests.
4. Ketel One
I don’t think there’s any list of vodkas anywhere that doesn’t put this one near the top. And though I might be a congenital contrarian, some things are just simple fact, agreed to by everyone who matters. One of those truths is this: Ketel One is the finest grain vodka on the market. Not surprising, of course, as the family that’s been brewing this liquor’s been doing so since 1691. Still, attention must be paid. The flavor’s in perfect balance, not overly sweet or sharp, with little, if any, aftertaste. If there’s one bad thing I can say, it’s that Ketel One might be too good. The recipe’s so damned tight, the product so damned smooth, that you can almost drink it like water. If I were rating vodka based on production, on the distiller’s ability to craft a liquor that was pleasing to the broadest population of palates, this would be number one. But I’m not. I prefer a little more character, a noticeable flaw or two. And that’s why this is number four.
Mixer: Anything. Or nothing. It’s fine either way.
Ideal for: Everything. Works for interviews, PTA meetings, therapy… surgery, base jumping, NHRA Top Fuel funny car racing… Anywhere, any setting, where you just feel like cutting the edge. Scentless, painless, and with seven generations of distilling under the founding family’s belt, the kindest, most subtle of vodka buzzes. The rest might eclipse it in flavor, but Ketel’s what you want be drinking when no one can know you’ve been drinking.
Even better for: Marriage counseling, interventions.
3. Ciroc
No. Not because Diddy claims to drink it. I was a fan of this spirit way before the company gave him an equity stake to pimp it. Why? Because it’s one of the most unique vodkas you’ll ever have. Where most are made from wheat or rye, and a few here and there from potatos, Ciroc’s distilled solely from grapes. You might think that’d be a liability – that it’d offer too much flavor where a vodka’s better off leaning back. Ciroc found an ideal balance. There’s the faintest hint of grape essence, almost like a touch of grappa, layered on an ultra-crisp base. This isn’t a round or complex drink. The taste’s simple, direct and couldn’t possibly be missed – an intensely clarified, amazingly clean spirit with a touch of a bitter fruit finish.
Mixer: I like it straight. But it works well with citrus juices, which bring out the grape flavor. This is what you want to use when your girlfriend wants a Cosmopolitan.
Ideal for: If you absolutely must be there, if you’ve been dragged to one against every imaginable protest, drinking at dance clubs. Thanks to its new marketing hook, any cramped dark space pulsing with Lady Ga Ga mash-ups, flooded with strobe lights and packed with hipsters in black t-shirts and Robert Pattison haircuts will stock at least five cases of Ciroc.
Even better for: Funneling into soup-bowl sized Cosmopolitans, to flatten your girlfriend and her friends enough that they forget about going to the club, and you can take them to a tolerable bar instead.
2. Boyd & Blair
A high end vodka from outside Pittsburgh? Yes. That’s not a misprint. Still, a number two slot? Again, yes – it’s that good. There are two kinds of vodka in this world – potato vodka and everything else. And Boyd & Blair is an excellent potato vodka. It’s a bit harsh, with a bite that emphasizes the ethanol over some of the flavor. But a fine ethanol it is – the sort you’ll often get with much more expensive brands that have been distilled four or five times. Make no mistake, however, this is not a medicine-like vodka, in the vein of overdistilled stuff like XO and Imperia. B&B has a noticeable, well rounded essence hiding behind its initial punch.
Mixer: Ice. You don’t adulterate a good potato vodka. It just isn’t done.
Ideal for: Martinis. A touch of vermouth will cut B&B’s edge. But no olives. That’ll kill the delicate flavor.
1. Chopin
Among the real, honest potato vodkas, Chopin is easily the best. Crisp, smooth, with absolutely no aftertaste and just the right touch of sweetness, reminding you of its starchy, sugary base. You can buy those $50.00 super-premiums until you’re bankrupt. None will hold a candle to this vodka. The only negative I can offer is I once came across a bad batch. Didn’t even taste like Chopin. But I ran into that years ago, and I’ll assume it was a random outlier, as I haven’t bought a bad bottle since. And there’ve been more opportunities for that than I’ll ever admit out loud. Or even like to privately consider.
Mixer: Ice, minimally – barely a cube or two. Anything more is sinful.
Ideal for: Bludgeoning an expense account. Doubles can run to $20.00 in the better bars. And you won’t stop at two.
Even better for: Numbness at fancy corporate functions. You won’t find it at a Marriott, but if you’re stuck in a Four Seasons or Ritz for some conference or dinner, two of these make a conversation or presentation about “synergies” and “goal setting” pleasantly sufferable. Three might even bring you to paying attention, out of lack of energy or interest in bothering to formulate a decent daydream… “Right-o, Melvyn. The bit on the firm’s strategic planning was inspired. Brought me near to fucking tears. Churchill would’ve toasted that Powerpoint on revenue stream reallocation.”
Dishonorable Mentions:
Not because it’s the favored vodka of cul-de-sac yuppies, Wall Street date rapists and people who buy their wine by the price. And not because I drank a whole bottle of it a few years back, with God only knows how many Red Bulls, and thought I was going to die the next day. It’s just that it’s a terrible vodka. Tastes like something not made in a machine, but actually from a machine. As if some aging mechanical device had been dismantled, its parts ground to dust, mixed with water, and the resulting slurry distilled and bottled in a spirit. This is a vodka absent any soul, with nothing but a chemical essence. The only good I can say of this grossly overpriced, grossly over-rated liquor is the name was expertly chosen. “Grey” describes its every feature.
Mixer: Enough of anything to cover its taste entirely.
Ideal for: Varnish removal.
Even better for: Re-gifting to arseholes who’ll think it’s flattering.
If it were possible for alcohol to sour like milk, this is what rotten vodka would taste like. A mix of sugary and bitter at the front, with a pungent aftertaste of mold. The ultimate triumph of marketing over quality. A nifty bottle, a brilliant ad campaign and an utterly undrinkable product.
Mixer: Whatever chemical you’re using to poison the recipient of the drink.
Ideal for: Serving to detested guests.
Even better for: Powering your riding mower.
Proving two great tastes don’t always taste great together. Everyone loves stimulants. Everyone loves alcohol. And everyone loves them together. Whiskey and blow, champagne and ecstasy, single malts and crystal meth… It’s a goddamned American tradition. So why not put them in the same bottle? Infuse a vodka with liquid caffeine? Perhaps because the resulting product tastes like fucking Windex. I was conflicted about even discussing Pink here, as I’m not sure it qualifies for human consumption, let alone as liquor worth reviewing. “Vile” is a generous description. I’ve injested bong water with better character.
Mixer: Soap shavings and oil. Makes a decent Molotov Cocktail.
Ideal for: Feeding to 17 year old girls who think it’s chic.
Even better for: Staying alert, yet calm, through your Mann Act trial.
I used to bartend at a place with a disreputable dickwad corporate manager who “married” rotgut vodka into Goose bottles. NOT an urban legend. Most of our business came during a busy ass nightclub, but even during the slower hours, when we poured it for more “discerning” patrons, nobody said a word.
Out here in California, we have a grape vodka called Roth, and for a while you could find it at a chain grocery called Trader Joe”s for like, 10 bucks. I bought a case, Twice. Distilled 5 times, for what it’s worth. I can’t vouch for the flavor because I’ve never drank vodka with that in mind (shoot it, straight out of the freezer), but I will say this: vodkas made from grapes..are..fucking…awesome. Hard liquor made from grapes is it’s own category of narcotic altogether (Black folks are an excellent barometers for the quality of a buzz, if they’re using it en masse, you better believe it’s top notch!) And it is like brandy, but without all those nasty cogeners. That Ozzy-pissing-on-the-Alamo, Cask of Amontillado, abandon all hope ye who enter here drunk, but without the debilitating blitzkrieg hangover, because, unlike Hennessey, it isn’t aged in dirty old whiskey casks. Ciroc is like that too, but ever since Diddy started mumbling ads for Ciroc, it’s gone prohibitively up to the top price tier.
PL: I’ve had Roth. It’s decent. A bit harsh, but good. Not $10. More like $30 out here.
Cognac is one thing I could never develop a taste for. Don’t know why. I’ve had the crazy Louis XIII stuff and it was a terrible waste on my palate. There’s a certain sweetness I need lacking in the stuff.
YOu are right I love Kattel but Cirac is great.
PL: Step away from the keyboard.
ps I am screwed up alreay
PL: Close the laptop and don’t think of emailing or texting anyone for the next 3 hours.
Still anxiously awaiting the Scotch article…
PL: Well, you may have to wait. My “backlog” of pieces is deep right now.
Excellent list. I grew up on Stoli, mostly because it was always what my dad had in the freezer, so it was a natural choice once I came of age. I still have a bottle in the freezer at all times (but it’s behind the Ketel One.)
I first heard of Ciroc about 6 years ago, bought a bottle, loved it, and told all my friends. Then Puff Daddy/P Diddy/Diddy started endorsing it and I had to go underground. Nearly died of shame. I still buy it, though. Ketel, at about $20 a fifth out here in California (Alameda, coincidentally – still haven’t tried Hangar One) is my go-to vodka, and I’ve refused to drink Grey Goose since discovering that it tastes like rubbing alcohol.
I do have a friend from the Pittsburgh area, recently transplanted to Chicago, who’s doing his best to get me some B&B.
Looking forward to your Scotch list as it’s one of those liquors I know very little about. Thanks again.
PL: B&B’s great. Just saw a new stock of it in the liquor store yesterday, so the company must be holding its own. Be a shame to see it fail. It’s really a great spirit.
Ciroc’s also a great gift vodka. People say “Grapes?” And then they taste it.
I’m from Texas so I’m more than familiar with what Everclear can do. You can’t throw a party at UT without it.
PL: When I ran my house’s social fund I had to buy cases of it. They made me sign twelve separate wavers saying I would not hold the state responsible for selling me the liquor in the event anyone died from it or was blinded.
A friend and I demolished a Liter of Ketel One on Friday. I bought the vodka, he bought the mixers. Greyhounds, Tonics, Screwdrivers, on Ice, Red Bull, Monster…I don’t remember how the night ended but it must have been alright if I was in my bed. I made a call to my girlfriend after blacking out, and apparently I’m hilarious when I’m shithammered. I couldnt find Hangar One, B+B, or Chopin ( which I know I can’t afford before payday).
Long story short, it’s been at least two and a half years since Grey Goose scared me away from vodka. This piece, combined with the fact that following your Bourbon and Gin recommendations ended very well, (if vomit splattered) has brought me back to Vodka’s sweet embrace. Thanks again.
PL: You’re more than welcome. It heartens me to hear about people re-embracing booze they’d shunned. Nothing good comes of shutting any liquor out of one’s life.
Last night, while stabbing my liver with a warm Woodford Reserve icepick, I cracked the seal on a bottle of Chopin. When I saw it at the ABC store earlier that day, I couldn’t believe my good fortune. I had to have it. Only 30 dollars for a fifth?
PL: Yep. Best bargain going.
accidentally hit submit. was not done commenting. anyway, when I opened the bottle and poured myself a glass, I understood that mixing bourbon and Vodka might not be a good idea. on the Other hand, Who Dares, Wins! It was awesome. I didnt want to ruin myself completely because I have to work the next day. That one glass was excellent. I closed the bottle and continued to drink bourbon straight for the rest of the night. still no hangover. i did wake up a bit drunk this morning. Late for work, too. Worth every penny, and I havent even killed the bottle yet.
PL: Nitrous and dope, coke and mushrooms, acid and two gallons of Natural Light, two packs of Camel Lights and a pair of Taco Bell seven layer burritos… You can mix a lot of shit in this life.
But you cannot mix vodka and bourbon in the same glass. However excellent the brands.