How VINTAGE SPIRITS became the holy grail of drinking.
A few months ago, I was summoned to a hotel in mid town Manhattan to taste something that is older than most people on earth. This was the cognac known as Louis XIII, which is famous for (1) requiring a full century to be produced and (2) making a notable appearance in the lyrics of Rihanna’s “Bitch Better Have My Money.”
I sat on a couch as the cognac’s ambassador, Philippe Vasilescu, a dashing guy who looks like the antihero in Truffaut film, brandished a pipette to extract the cognac from a Baccarat decanter. (A bottle costs thousands.) What followed was a ceremony of sniffing and contemplation before the first drop passed my lips. How did it taste? Vapor trails of deliciousness seemed to hover and shift. One hundred years of stories swirled in the air like liberated long-captive ghosts.
This story is from the September 2017 edition of Esquire.
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This story is from the September 2017 edition of Esquire.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 8,500+ magazines and newspapers.
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