Armenian Brandy

In my opinion, unless you’re a teetotaler, you can’t visit Armenia without bringing home a bottle of brandy. I’ve written posts about using our ArArAt brandy to make Brandied Cherries, and commented that it was our beverage of choice when we’ve celebrated adoption milestones (before we adopted and since).

On our last trip in 2012, I was so committed to bringing a bottle back that I frantically repacked our carry-on bag at Heathrow Airport so we could check through one more bag with our duty-free 20-year ArArAt brandy inside. Otherwise our precious cargo would have wound up in the in the dumpster rather than at our home. Who knew? Even duty free wasn’t safe (if it wasn’t EU).

But–until now–I haven’t written much about the brandy itself. Armenian brandy is made from white grapes and spring water according to a traditional method. Depending on how long it’s aged and where the grapes and spring water are sourced, every brandy has its own distinct color, aroma and flavor. When making Armenian brandy, only endemic grape varietals are used, such as Voskehat, Garan Dmak, and Kangun.

I also want to point out that while all cognac is brandy, all brandies are not cognac. Legally, a brandy cannot be called ‘cognac,’ unless it was produced in the Cognac region of France. However, in 1900 Armenian brandy won the legal right to be labeled cognac after it won the Grand-prix award at the Universal Expo of Paris. Although calling Armenian brandy cognac is no longer legal (and ceased to be the case after WWII), you will still hear hear Armenian brandy being referred to as cognac in Armenia, Russia and other former Soviet Union countries.

The roots of the Yerevan Brandy Company, where ArArAt brandy is made, go back to 1887 when Nerses Tairian, a merchant who built the first wine and brandy factory in Armenia. In 1899 the company was acquired by a Russian industrial company “Shustov and Sons.” At the beginning of the 20th century “Shustov and Sons” acquired the status of Armenian brandy supplier to the court of His Imperial Majesty Nicholas II.

The first bottle we brought home was ArArAt 15 year Prazdnichny made by the Yerevan Brandy Company. It was delicious. Unfortunately, it was so good that it is now gone, and I’m not sure they even make this particular brandy anymore because it isn’t listed on their website.

Next we brought home another ArArAt, also aged 15 years, but called Vaspurakan, which is Armenian for “noble country.” This brandy, as described on the company’s website: Intense amber color with a tinge of “old gold”. Bright, elegant and complex aroma with shades of spices, oak bark and dried fruit. At the end one can feel tinges of balm. Rich, complex, complete, astonishingly mild and rounded taste. Light sharpness at the end is smoothed by clearly expressed sweet notes. Long and noble aftertaste.

I heartily agree with their description. We have really enjoyed it but, as you can see, we have a only a few shots remaining. So sad.

Our sole remaining bottle is Ararat Nairi, aged 20 years. The Nairi people inhabited the Kingdom of Urartu that stretched along the shores of Lake Van, which is now the largest lake in Turkey. According to ArArAt, this brandy is: Beautiful deep dark amber color. Pleasing glow and spotless transparency. Harmonious, silky, complex and refined texture. Balsamic fragrance and transition to cedar tones. Rich and complex taste with a pleasant long-lasting aftertaste. Refined combination of fried bread and cloves is counterbalanced by tinges of cinnamon and honey.

Nairi sounds divine. I can’t wait to try it, except that it is our very last bottle of Armenian brandy.

One thing I’ve never done is take a tour of the Yerevan Brandy Company, and I’d really like to. I am also interested in broadening my Armenian brandy horizons by trying Amenian brandy made by other companies–Yerevan Brandy Company isn’t the only maker of brandy in Armenia.. With that in mind, and our supply dwindling, maybe it’s time to go back and get more.

Take the road less traveled, Beth

Our five hour flight from Yerevan to London passed without a hitch. Baby Bird even fell asleep for a couple hours. I couldn’t believe our luck.

When we landed at Heathrow we knew a long layover awaited us. The airport was hot and sticky, and once we finished our requisite lunch of bangers and mash, we scratched our heads. Four hours left. What are a couple of tired, jet-lagged new parents to do?

“I heard there’s a play area here in the airport. Let’s see if we can find it.”

Find it we did and spent a relaxing hour watching Baby Bird delight in colorful toys the likes of which she’d probably never seen before. Watching her expressions, as she touched and discovered, was pure joy.

When we could see her energy was starting to wane, Big Papa strapped her into the Baby Bjorn and headed for the concourse. Back and forth he paced until she slumped, asleep. Sweat glistened on his neck and arms as he continued to walk, and walk for another 45 minutes to an hour. I’d catch them every lap or two, say hello and then off they went.

She woke up shortly before it was time to head for security and board our flight to Seattle. We were a few feet from the scanners when I saw the sign. No alcohol. I walked up to one of the security agents.

“I see the sign says no alcohol. That doesn’t apply to duty free, right?”

“Yes, it does.”

I pleaded. “But it’s in a sealed duty free bag from our departure city?”

“Sorry, but as London is not your final destination, your duty free liquids will be confiscated.”

Now I was desperate. “What can we do? It’s a very expensive bottle of Armenian brandy.”

“Your only option would be to check it through.”

She was polite but stone-faced. My brandy and I would not be able to board this flight together. We either had to find a way to check it or drink a few shots before parting ways.

“We have to check it through,” I said emphatically to Big Papa. “I wonder if I could make it downstairs to the British Air desk and back through security in time for our flight.”

I could see the terrified look in his eyes.

“What if you don’t make it back?”

While I knew our main objective was to bring our baby home safe and sound, the thought of having to toss that bottle of brandy in the trash really irked me. I was stewing about this when I turned and saw a small British Air counter just feet before the security line, and then I had a brilliant (or at least I hoped) idea: we could check one of our carry-on bags and stow the brandy inside.

“Let’s shuffle a few things around, and put the brandy in one of our two carry-on bags,” I said eagerly.

Big Papa looked at me like I was nuts.

“Come on, we don’t need everything we’ve brought with us on this flight,” I asserted as I knelt down on the carpet, unzipped our two carry-on bags and started tossing diapers, second sets of clothes, magazines and sundry items this way and that. In a few minutes I’d managed to repack our bags with the “essentials” in one and the non-essentials in another—and the brandy tucked safely in the middle.

I walked up the ticket counter.

“Would it be possible to check this bag? We really don’t need it on our next flight.”

“Yes, absolutely,” she replied with her lovely British accent.

And there went the bag and our brandy. See you in Seattle.

Crazy as it might sound, I felt relieved. I smiled, feeling clever that we’d pulled it off and happy at the thought our future adoption milestones could be accompanied by a proper toast, with Armenian brandy.

And then came the moment, which I’d heard would come, when I had to taste the baby food we had with us in carry-on. “Squeezable” foods like baby food, feel into the LAGS (Liquids, Aerosols and Gels): If you can pump it, pour it, spread, smear, spray, spill or squeeze it, it is considered a LAG. But they were willing to bend the rules, if you taste a small amount right then and there.

So that’s exactly what I did. I opened three jars, put my finger in the jar and stuck it in my mouth. Down the hatch went a sampling of the baby food. It wasn’t as horrible as I’d imagined (read: I didn’t gag), but I wouldn’t order any of them again if I saw them on the menu.

With the security check behind us, we headed to the gate. Only one ten-hour flight stood between us and home. All I could think about was how good it would feel to be in our own house and snug in our own bed, and how much I’d probably want a shot of that brandy.

Want to toast to more great food and drink? Check out Wanderfood Wednesday!