Ciroc Vodka: A Rapper's Delight.

Ciroc is a so-called ‘super premium’ French vodka derived from snap frost grapes rather than the traditional corn, sorghum, rye, wheat or potatoes. The juice of Mauzac Blanc grapes from Gaillac, and Ugni Blanc grapes from Cognac  is extracted and cold fermented before a lengthy distillation process can begin. The Mauzac Blanc grapes are four-times distilled in traditional copper-pot stills, whilst the Ugni Blanc enjoy their distillation in steel column stills. The combination of the two is then distilled once more in copper stills which the manufacturers insist give Ciroc it’s distinctively smooth finish. I thought this a ridiculously drawn out process for a vodka, but having tasted Ciroc, I make them right.

The vodka is very lemony in the mouth, with an almost liquorice after taste. The light smooth finish and fresh character make it a delightful drink for sipping over ice. There was none of the ‘burn’ associated with other vodkas I might mention, and amazingly, no hangover! Perhaps I’ve finally found my perfect drink?

The aspect of Ciroc which all of my friends were most aware was not (surprisingly) the laborious distillation process, but its association with Sean Combs (or Diddy/P. Diddy/ Puff Daddy/ Puffy) which has seen the rapper and business impresario promoting the brand since 2007. Rather than a regular endorsement contract, Comb’s company Sean Combs Enterprises will take a 50% share of the profits, which could amount to over $100 million over the course of the deal.

I was curious about the ‘snap frost’ grapes touted on the bottle as the distinguishing factor that marks Ciroc apart from its competitors. They appear to be grapes harvested after the first frost, like those used in the production of eiswein in which the grapes are frozen on the vine, leaving the sugars to concentrate resulting in a sweet wine balanced with high acidity. Ciroc is definitely a sweet vodka, and would combine well with any citrus-based mixers to draw out the acidic undertones.

Oringinally published at The Culinary Guide.

Homage to Homard.

Aren’t lobsters bloody fantastic? Perhaps rather churlishly, I announced over dinner last night that I would be happy to eat lobsters every day for the rest of my life. With the benefit of hindsight and in the cold light of day, I can see that this is ridiculous and would take away the fun of eating lobsters on special occasions. Unless you eat lobsters daily, like others eat eggs or bread? Thought not. Because they are special occasion food, reserved for high-days and holidays, and to eat them with any more frequency than this would be to ruin their special appeal to me.

 That said, I could do with eating a few more than I have been. I was reminded last night how blooming marvellous this crustacean is when it’s snappy and fresh and covered in delicious garlic butter. I went to Riddell and Finns on Meeting House Lane in Brighton, which sounds a bit like a seafood restaurant in Harry Potter might, and is indeed fairly magical inside. Diners sit at long marble benches with candelabras in the middle, dripping with atmospheric candle wax. The chairs, however are most uncomfortable, and left a ‘basket’ impression on the back of my thighs, not cool. The walls are covered in old-timey photos and mirrored tiles with French writing on, to give a suitably elegant and nostalgic feel to the joint. But you care not for such details, you want to know about the food!

 I ordered a whole grilled lobster with garlic butter and set about it with my shell-cracking device and teeny fork-pick with gusto and relish. I fear this was a most unappealing sight, but I cared not a jot. The lobster was a good size, with plenty of claw meat and a good fat tail. I ordered fries to go with it, but should have asked for more bread to mop up the tasty garlicky juices left behind. Next time.

 Another lobster experiences has just occurred to me, which escaped the notice of this blog. I am getting slack, forgive me. For my friend’s recent birthday we went to The Big Easy on The King’s Road for a lobster chow-down which horrified my vegetarian friend (again). We tore at the red beasts and dribbled sweet juices down our chins in our eagerness to tweeze out even the tiniest morsel of meat. The table was a tragic vista of discarded shell and balled up napkins as the final diner set down their fork, like there had been a lobster Armageddon. We paid £15 a head for a lobster/chips/salad combo, with a margarita thrown in for good measure, and though the lobster was on the smallish side, and the house band were a little long in the tooth, you really can’t argue with those prices.

 Riddle and Finn’s is significantly more expensive than that, but it’s infinitely more refined and benefits from no in-house band belting out mid-90’s soft rock standards. To surmise, both offer a great lobster experience for very different situations. Although, I can’t really imagine a bad experience if there is a lobster involved somewhere along the line. Can you?

 Riddle and Finn’s
12b Meeting House Lane

Brighton

BN1 1HB.



The Big Easy

332 – 334 King’s Road

London

SW3 5UR