The Truth About Vodka

Vodka is the top-selling spirit in the world right now, the toast of everyone from beefy Russian farmers to slim young Sex-and-the-City-addicted Americans. It's even inspired what has to be the coolest cocktail lounge on the planet: London's new Absolut Icebar, where in 20-degree temperatures, guests dressed in thermal silver capes and gloves sit on stools made of ice and draped in reindeer skins and knock back vodka drinks. In the face of this seemingly insatiable appetite for the spirit of the moment, vodka manufacturers have flooded the market with all sorts of pricy brands in drop-dead gorgeous bottles. Faced with such a bewildering variety of choices, what's a savvy drinker to do?

We asked Mark Turck, bar manager at Baleen at LaPlaya Beach & Golf Resort in Naples, to help us assemble a panel of experts and conduct a tasting of some international brands. Turck, a longtime vodka lover, recently returned from a trip to Eastern Europe, the birthplace of vodka, where he enthusiastically increased his expertise. We wanted to learn not only which vodkas rose to the top in our tasting, but the nuances of each contender, including which were best suited for certain drinks and occasions.

In addition to me, cuisine editor for Gulfshore Life, our tasters included Stefan Andreev, a Naples photographer who owns Catchlight Studio and has a natural affinity for our subject, since he's a native of Bulgaria, where vodka and vodka drinkers abound; Robert Plunket, a novelist (My Search for Warren Harding, Love Junkie) who often explores the burgeoning luxury market in his Culture Vulture column for this magazine; Sharon Treiser, a local financial consultant; and Michelle Coulombe, Florida sales manager for White Rock Distilleries, which manufactures a number of spirits, including Three Olives vodka, a new brand that's hot with the young and hip. (Three Olives turned out to be one of the vodkas we were tasting, but Coulombe swore she would be impartial.)

We all assembled at the Gulf-front Baleen right before sunset, and Turck explained our mission: to lounge on the loggia, eating raw oysters, caviar and fresh figs stuffed with Gorgonzola cheese while we evaluate eight vodka brands in terms of taste, bottle appeal and how each might be appropriate to a specific occasion. And just for fun, we decide we'll match each brand with the archetypal character we picture drinking it.

The tasting, Turck explains, will be a "warm" one, which means the vodka is poured from a room-temperature bottle. Turck puts a drop or two of water in each glass, then adds the vodka. "Vodka on ice," he instructs, "is smooth because of the coldness, but the flavors are dulled. To appreciate the nuances of scent and taste, you want to sample vodka at room temperature. A little water releases the

subtle flavors."

Here's the international line-up: Three Olives (England), Stoli Elite (Russia), Vox (Netherlands), Ultimat (Poland), Chopin (Poland), Zyr (Russia), Grey Goose (France) and Rain (U.S.). There's an enormous world of vodkas out there; these, Turck tells us, represent a sampling of high-quality brands, ranging in price from medium-high to premium.

Vodka No. 1: Three Olives (about $25; prices vary by size and store). Turck tells us this English vodka is made from wheat, and we find the taste smooth, a bit crisp but definitely mild. Treiser says the vodka "gently nibbles at my tongue." This is a good one for drinking straight, we agree; Andreev says it could hold its own with a true connoisseur. The tall, frosted, contemporary bottle is clever with its martini-glass cutout and the three green olives visible through the glass. Who does it remind us of? Treiser says Pierce Brosnan, and Andreev agrees 007 would love it. I can see Harry Connick Jr. raising a glass.

Vodka No. 2: Stoli Elite (about $75). This strong, Russian, wheat-based vodka has a real bite. The gorgeous clear bottle with its clean architectural lines puts us in mind of Paris Hilton or Gwen Stefani, although Andreev thinks it would be a hit with the Russian Mafia. He wants a big bite of caviar with this one, and Turck agrees Stoli Elite is "assertive and works well with food."

Vodka No. 3: Vox (about $30). This Dutch blend of wheat and rye strikes us as sweet with pleasant woody hints. Treiser praises its subtlety. Plunket wants to buy this one for his bar at home. Who does the classy-sexy crystal flacon make us think of? Angelina Jolie, of course.

Vodka No. 4: Ultimat (about $50). This Polish luxury brand is made with wheat, rye and potato. It's strong, and most of us think it has a medicinal taste with a light burn. The glamorous cobalt- blue decanter, like a glistening gem, is the group's favorite; and we decide it would also appeal to Nicole Kidman, Beyonce and Michael Feinstein. Plunket says he could see the new Pope laying in a supply, since the bottle befits the majesty of the Vatican.

Vodka No. 5: Chopin (about $30). Alas, this pure potato vodka, also from Poland, fails to impress. Coulombe finds the taste "starchy and heavy" and doesn't appreciate the burn of the aftertaste. Plunket says he'd give a gift bottle to his maid, "if she were Polish and allergic to gluten." "It reminds me of rubbing alcohol," Andreev complains. And we all agree the frosted bottle with a drawing of the composer Frédéric Chopin on the back is sadly dull.

Vodka No. 6: Zyr (pronounced zeer, about $50). This Russian blend of winter wheat and rye provokes a mixed reaction. Treiser grimaces at first sip and says it's too medicinal for her palate.

Plunket, Coulombe and I wouldn't choose it for our own home bars, but Andreev likes the burn. Still, he adds, the plain-looking bottle does not live up to the haute price. We decide this is one of those vodkas to sip on the rocks because a good chill would smooth it out.

Vodka No. 7: Grey Goose (about $30). This French vodka is made of wheat, rye, barley and corn. We find the taste bright, smooth, somewhat sweet and clean, with just a little bite. We concur that it's a vodka we'd use at home; indeed, most of us already do. If you need a gift for your boss, Treiser says this vodka is it. The bottle has an outdoorsy male attitude. Who do we see sitting by the fireside in a Ralph Lauren-designed cabin drinking it? Brad Pitt or Julia Roberts. Plunket can also envision the new Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, John Roberts, raising a glass after a long day on the bench.

Vodka No. 8: Rain (about $20). Our only American entry, this vodka is made in Wisconsin from organic wheat. Andreev describes its flavor as "primitive" and adds that's not necessarily a bad thing. Coulombe and Treiser find the taste too raw, like grain alcohol, but I think this one is quite acceptable for mixing with assertive fruit juices. Plunket says, "This bottle looks like it should hold shampoo," but Andreev and I like the teardrop-shaped container.

We're done and Turck makes each of us a vodka cocktail as we take our shoes off and stroll out onto the sand to voice some general conclusions about the vodka craze. Although one or two of our sampling vodkas stand out in sharp contrast to others, the consensus is that in most instances, the differences are too subtle to distinguish one from another except to a genuine connoisseur. We'd never pass a blind taste test. Probably not many people outside the spirits industry would. No wonder manufacturers put so much energy and money into designing the bottles and marketing different brands to different demographics. But if vodka may be less about remarkable taste differences and more about distinctive bottles and successful promotion, we all agree that it makes a wonderful base for a world of drinks, and I raise Turck's signature coconut martini to salute that conclusion.