To toast or not to toast

Joel Rai, a whiskey veteran, and Manavi Kapur, a wine novice, talk about the latest offerings from Jack Daniel's and Moet Hennessy

Bottleful of sweet songs

Nectar of the gods - that is how Frank Sinatra, the American singer and actor, described his beloved Jack Daniel's Tennessee whiskey. For almost five decades, Sinatra's only choice when he needed to moisten his throat was Old No 7, perhaps the biggest seller in American whiskies. He so loved his drink that at his burial, his family famously interred in his coffin a bottle of Jack, as aficionados lovingly refer to their chosen libation.

Now, Jack Daniel's, owned by Brown-Forman, has a bottled tribute to its unofficial brand ambassador in the form of a special label called Sinatra Select. Launched overseas last month, the limited edition whiskey is now in India.

Scotches have varied tastes depending on whether they are single-malts, grains or blends, and unlike American whiskies, are matured in used oak barrels. American whiskies mostly make use of corn but, more importantly, mature in new oak barrels that impart a woodier taste to the spirit. Jack Daniel's, manufactured in Brown-Forman's only distillery in Lynchburg, Tennessee, is reputed for its sweet, woody flavour.

What differentiates Sinatra Select from the regular Jack (Old No 7, Gentleman Jack and Silver Select are the more popular among the labels) are the bolder hints of oak and charcoal. The barrels in which the whiskey is matured have grooved interiors that increase the liquor's exposure to oak. So it has a stronger oaken flavour as well as a more distinct charcoal flavour due to the special coal distillation process it undergoes. "Sinatra Select is bold and robust," says Amrit Kiran Singh, vice-president and area director, Brown-Forman India.

"I can tell you it is smoother than anything," says Yangdup Lama, master mixologist, bar owner and co-author of Cocktails & Dreams-the Ultimate Indian Cocktail Book. "It is sweet and has a woodier, smoky, vanilla flavour." He adds that unlike Scotch, American whiskies are eminently suitable for cocktails and, in fact, Jack & Coke is one of the most popular cocktails going around. A similar Scotch and cola mix would be a disaster, he chuckles. However, the bar maestro advises that to fully enjoy the nuances of the fine whiskey "Sinatra Select should be enjoyed the way it is, that is neat or on the rocks".

Happily for Indian lovers of Jack, among whom can be counted former Star TV CEO Peter Mukerjea and corporate honchos Mohit Burman and Ness Wadia, the whiskey pairs well with Indian food. "Jack is good with barbeques, and it is, therefore, a good afternoon drink too," says Singh. Lama says Sinatra Select, like all Jacks, is an "easy whiskey" and can be an accompaniment to most foods. But with its charcoal flavour, it can create gustatory harmony with tandoori items and kababs. "A connoisseur I know likes his Jack with just a piece of tandoori roti," chuckles Singh.

To protect its exclusivity, Sinatra Select will be available in limited quantities in India. Taste is priceless, but for the record, Sinatra Select will cost $162 per bottle in duty-free shops at the Delhi and Mumbai airports. In select A-class outlets in the metros, the bottle of song and dance will cost Rs 23,000.

Warming up to sparkling wine

So, luxury French brand Moët Hennessy was launching its well-known label, Chandon, in India. The last I'd spotted a Chandon was in the wine list at a fine-dine restaurant. For someone who'd been working for less than two years, a bottle of imported Moët Hennessy Chandon, which costs up to Rs 6,000 a bottle, wasn't something that would be easily accessible, I thought dismissively. That was before I spotted the price tag: Rs 1,200 and Rs 1,400 for Chandon Brut and Chandon Brut Rose, respectively. Unbelievable. But the accompanying note explained it. "Produced and sold in India," it read. Not a great wine drinker, all I could understand from this was that I had been invited to taste some Indian champagne. And that brought back memories of a sour, undrinkable beverage.

On the destined day at the Leela Palace Hotel in Delhi's Chanakyapuri, I meet Moët Hennessy's Jean-Guillaume Prats, president and CEO of Estates and Wines, and Gaurav Bhatia, marketing director at Moët Hennessy, India. Right at the start, I promptly announce that I have practically zero knowledge of wines. Rum and cola with a slice of lemon is my beverage. I ask Prats what he has on offer for the Indian champagne market and two voices chirp in unison to correct me - "sparkling wine". In India, the concept of Indian-made foreign liquor, or IMFL, allows buyers to get away with calling every sparkling wine 'Champagne', which, in stricter terms, is only produced in the French district of Champagne.

Wines produced in different parts of the world retail under different names. However, Chandon, explains Prats, is the only sparkling wine that is available under the same label, no matter which country it is produced in. So each Chandon, made more accessible (price-wise) with locally-sourced grapes (Moët Hennessy has rented a vineyard in Nashik), has a distinct flavour and texture.

I hear a small pop at the bar behind me and I know the moment when I'm expected to taste and rate the wine is here.

Swiftly come two tulip glasses (I am told they hold the aroma better) and the Chandon Brut is poured into them. I tentatively take a sip, expecting a sour, pungent flavour. What I get instead is a delightfully sweet, just-rightly-chilled bubbly, which takes me to a spring morning on a dreary, foggy day. I can picture myself drinking this with my favourite pizza at home, or with just some crackers and cheese when I'm out with friends - minus any knowledge of wine-lingo, it feels simply delicious. It seems to be the perfect companion for almost any cuisine, from Friday-night nachos and cheesy burgers, to perhaps, some more sophisticated entrees. I am told that this sparkling has some dark grapes too, but since only the pulp (and not their skin) is used in its creation, it doesn't have the red tint.

Next up is the Chandon Brut Rose, which Prats tells me is slightly "more masculine". With the feminist inside me up in arms, I brave a large sip, and instantly regret it. It is stronger, with definitely more punch, and muscle, if you may. With a higher potency compared to the Brut, it feels like a wine that would make me tipsy in one glass: the fact that I couldn't finish a quarter-filled tulip is evidence enough. Though much lighter than most reds I have tasted, it is still something I wouldn't personally opt for.

While leaving, the Moët Hennessy team asks me if it was successful in convincing me to at least try more wines, and I definitely would agree.