I might actually
like grappa more than whisky. No, it isn’t as complex, but with whisky there
are always ones that are your favourite, and others that are… possibly even
disappointing. In fact, most of the time I spend drinking whisky seems to be
spent wondering how much I like it,
and whether I really do, rather than simply enjoying it. Sure, that is a
symptom of critical evaluation, but I just want to return to the time when I
could enjoy what I was drinking. And that’s what I have with grappa. There’s
not that much difference between
brands of grappa (but there’s enough), and they are all nice – even the bad ones, which you’ll be reading more about in
the coming months. And some are amazing. I’m
enjoying it; there is nothing left to ponder, I think to myself.
The thing that irks
me though, is that it seems like I’m the only person in Britain who actually
likes grappa – or even knows what it is. I’m doing my best to educate people –
writing about it, making my guests try it, buying it as an alternative to
whisky for gifts – but the fact remains. It isn’t popular and availability here
in the UK is sadly low and the variety poor (not in quality, but in scope).
My latest purchase [at
the time of writing] was this one, Poli Bassano del Grappa (40% ABV,
50cl, £24.99). Poli is the distiller,
and Bassano del Grappa is the town of
origin, and in fact, the town where grappa itself originated.
I spotted this one
in my local Marks And Spencer a month or two ago and had been saving my credit
card reward vouchers, putting unnecessary expenses on my card and waiting for
my next batch of vouchers with the intention of picking it up ever since.
M&S only reward customers every three months, so it was a long wait, and
the £3 I received was disappointing when it finally arrived. I sighed, subdued
the rising tide of ennui, and added it to the £7 I already had. Then, also
armed with a 15% off voucher I hotfooted it off down there one Friday after
work.
“What’s that?
Vodka?” asked the bag packing assistant as the lady at the checkout scanned the
price.
“No,” said the cashier, peering at the label, “it’s
grappa.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a liqueur.”
“It’s not a
liqueur,” I interjected, “it’s a kind of pomace brandy.”
“Ooo-oooh, it’s brandy, have I hit a nerve?”
I didn’t say
anything to that. I’ll let you stew in your own ignorance next time. Fucking
liqueur. Guh back to drinkin’ yer fooking Glen’s.
I wasn’t offended or
anything. It’s all in a day’s work when you’re spreading the good word of the
grappa. I don’t think I converted anyone there, but I reckon there were a
couple of people in the queue behind who might have been interested. Any grappa
distributors want to pay me more than my current job for working less hours,
but more importantly, helping grappa take off over here; get in touch.
This is only the
second time I’ve been able to buy grappa in a UK supermarket. On the first occasionthe checkout assistant asked me what it was, too. What does that tell you?
Supermarket checkout assistants like a drink, but they don’t know what grappa
is. Who does?
This one then, is a
young grappa produced from a cuvee of
red grape varieties of the Venetian province. It is distilled in small lots in
a discontinuous copper still provided with steam pots. I don’t know either.
They produce 27
separate expressions of grappa at the Poli distillery, among which are some
really interesting varieties:
-
A 13
year old, oak aged expression of which only 9 are produced each year (read:
expensive).
-
Expressions
finished in various ex wine, port, sherry and even rum barrels.
-
Expressions
produced in a number of varieties of different stills and distillation methods,
including a “vacuum double boiler still.”
-
A kosher
grappa, which you’ve got to be curious about but will probably never, ever buy.
-
They
also produce grape brandies.
The Poli made its
debut in a straight comparison with its predecessor – La Castellina Squarcialupi
– which I had actually kept for nearly a year. I’d been deliberately saving
it for the next time I had a new bottle, and this was it.
Now, I’ve been
enjoying the Squarcialupi, but it hadn’t quite measured up to the San Perano in Donato that I’d picked
up on the same trip. I think I’ve already talked about that at length, so let’s
just crack on with some direct observations:
Price
The Squarcialupi was
25 euros while the Poli was £24 – both for 50cl. You can clearly see the
discrepancy here between the price you’ll pay in Italy and that you have to pay
in the UK. Poli is the absolute entry
level of the brand and I’m guessing, but I suspect it would cost 15 euros
or less in its country of origin. You’d probably be looking at £40+ for the
Squarcialupi, if you could get it here because it is an aged and even numbered
variety.
The ABVs
Squarcialupi 42-40
Poli (like a rugby score).
Presentation
Both are quite
nicely presented – Poli with its curvy bottle and clasp-like cap and
Squarcialupi with the narrow cylinder and modern, understated label design. If
I had to pick, it would be the Squarcialupi.
Enjoyment
I don’t want to get
into hints of this and that, so let’s
just jump straight in. As with the other categories, it’s the Squarcialupi that
comes out on top. It’s just a little lighter and more delicate, but then it’s
perhaps not entirely fair to compare these two different products – aged and
unaged grappas are very different animals. Equally though, I’m not saying I
always prefer one variety over the other…
Poli does come into
its own… on its own. It’s just in
direct comparison that it is slightly bettered. With no reference point to hand
it is perfectly drinkable, and if you can get over the fact it’s way more
expensive here than it would be over there… it’s actually quite reasonably
priced compared to general UK grappa prices. It is only a 50cl bottle, so in
terms of value it comes in at around the same as 70cl of a decent (but not
expensive) single malt, and if you like grappa, that’s pretty good. I do, and I
think it’s time you did too – though this one might not be the best place for
you to start.
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