Crisis averted: Cheap vodka for everyone!

I’m over vodka.

There, I said it. I’ve been harboring this tumor of doubt within my besotted soul for a couple of years now. I often fail to appreciate the virtues of the expensive labels, which I struggle to distinguish from the cheap stuff. So I'm coming clean: I am less a connoisseur than merely an arbiter of what’s good and what’s bad.

And that suits me just fine.

In Vino Veritas

It crystalized for me the other night at a wine tasting. As I swished a cloying cuvee blush over wasabi peas, dutifully taking note of how the former softened the latter, I had a blunt tasting note that I withheld from our sommelier: the wine sucked. Hard. It was only remotely palatable* because my mouth was stuffed with Japanese horseradish.

Perhaps this means I have a coarse palate. To wit, my tasting notes for the evening: no … no … no … no … good … eh … godawful (see above)… hell to the no. That night I took home one bottle—of olive oil. (“Good” was $30.)

Which brings me to the existential question that threatened my worthiness of this blog.

Am I Discriminating?

After much deliberation and self-recrimination, I can confidently say, you bet I am. Discriminating, yes; hair-splitting, not so much. I know good. I know bad. And I don’t begrudge the good enough.

Such discernment is put to good use when it comes to vodka. Because there is a lot of good enough vodka. In fact, it's so plentiful that it's the reason I became mired in self-doubt. I liked everything! Was I a fraud, no more discriminating than the village bicycle?

Thankfully, I am not. A fraud that is. I am, however, a vodka slut. Because there really are scores of good vodkas to choose from. And in most cases, good vodka is good enough. Especially if you’re mixing it in a wackatini.

Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not saying all vodkas taste the same. Just that many are so close you can opt for the cheaper bottle without sacrificing quality. And the New York Times agrees with me.

Another Bubble Burst

My devastating personal crisis turned out to be a wonderful thing. And we have the recent economic meltdown to thank for it. In the past five years, the focus of vodka marketers has gone from fleecing douchebags (not that I object to the practice) to pedaling fine vodka at reasonable prices.

So if you're not the type to detect hints of fennel and lemon grass in your vodka, try these six bottles under $15, all of which earn my Good Enough seal:

• Luksusowa—dollar-for-dollar, the best vodka available at $14.99. It’s a creamy Polish potato vodka that would be good at twice the price. Move over Belvedere.
• Smirnoff—See my review. Still a solid choice at $13.99.
• Pinnacle—While the outrageous flavored varieties offend me deeply, the regular vodka is damn fine at $13.99.
• 42 Below—See my review. Only $11.99.
• Platinum 7x—We’ve broken the $10 mark! At $9.99, I was skeptical, but it’s legit. Smooth.
• Sobieski—I think throwing money at watered down ethanol in fancy bottles is exclusively an American phenomenon. Proof: this Polish vodka is only $8.99. And it’s good. Trust me.

* I’m being generous

Yes, Smirnoff

I used to think that Smirnoff was a vodka brownbaggers drink. But recently I have taken to Smirnoff. And at $12.99 for a 750-ml. bottle it's less than half the price of the super premiums. But it's not that I have suddenly become fiscally responsible in my drink choices (careful audit of my Amex bill confirms this). Thing is, I like Smirnoff. I like, God help me, the taste. I'm certain it's something my eventual sponsor and I will agree on.

I was brought to Smirnoff as many others were in the past couple of years when The Times conducted the now famous taste test in which Smirnoff bested 20 other vodkas, Grey Goose and Ketel One among them. My mention of this to our soviet bartender at Red Square vodka bar in Vegas was met with the dismissive silly-capitalist-American glower sported by Regan-era movie villains. Curious, I picked up a bottle and it's been a staple ever since.

What I really like about Smirnoff is that it tastes like alcohol. To the undiscerning this is a bad thing. Think of all the cloying -tini atrocities that resemble sundaes more than a cocktails. Smirnoff tastes as if the inside of your mouth has been swabbed with alcohol but without the burn, sucking the air out of your mouth and leaving you with a classic vodka-wheat taste. I originally intended Smirnoff to be my mixer of choice, but I have found myself using it to make a nice dry, frosty martini and being wholly satisfied. I even drink it neat on occasion.

There are smoother vodkas and ones with more character, but for nailing the basics, you can't go wrong with Smirnoff. We're talking thirteen bucks, people.

Incidentally, I speak of the red label Smirnoff, or No. 21, which is the standard 80 proof. There are also gray and blue labels, which are 90 proof and 100 proof respectively (I have no use for the extra firepower). Though presumably the brownbaggers appreciate the value.