Old Schinus / Valley Queen / Golden Plaything

(The Friday Night Itinerant Itinerary)

Three cachacas firmly struck off the list last Friday night. All of them beauties. Naturally, I put such unerringly fine choices down to my exquisitely good taste.

Field Marshall Mack and I were joined by a Bavarian colleague, Frederick (sic), who is here on short release from the Dublin office.

Frederick has a dark, quasi-Morrissey quiff and a sharp nose that points downwards at a very acute angle. I found him to be an agreeable chap with a refreshingly modest and intelligent manner, quick to make keen observations and, more importantly, happy to join us in our spiritual sugar cane quest. The night's drinking took in the following:

Velha Aroeira
Rainha do Vale
Brinco de Ouro

Each of the above punctuated with multiple glasses of ice cold creamy pilsner served by my favourite waiters in my favourite bar (until now) in all Sao Paulo .

Frederick, who had never before experienced the wonder of pure cachaca, remarked on a family resemblance with his native schnapps which, in my opinion, is merely superficial. I would concede that they are both alcoholic beverages, yes.

Much to our surprise, later in the evening he went on to allege that schnapps is currently illegal in the Republic of Ireland. This demands corroboration as I believe his regular judgement had been severely compromised by a combination of jet lag and intoxication.

I myself got so drunk that alas I am unfit to write a just review of the three aforementioned cachacas. I'm noting them here, however, as a reminder to myself.

Note to self: these cachacas are all of fine quality and are more than worthy of further in depth analyses, perhaps even warranting purchase for future consumption in domicile.

Field Marshall is, as I write this, on her way to India. Which means I am alone until mid November. This will undoubtedly yield some more cachaca reviews and some more home recording.

Adeus amigos/as.
Oh, and flickr is go!

the east/west vine

Girl on the metro soaking up a book of fine wines.
She turns to leave her sleeve unsheathing a tattoo of a corkscrew.

Claudionor: The Continuing Cachaça Crusade

As you may recall, I ended my last, somewhat insistent post, with the promise that I would visit a newly discovered cachaça mecca in the centre of the city. Well, I kept that promise, and in an act of profound preclusion I will spare you immense tedium and simply relate that I made my way all there only to find that the place no longer exists. Damn it all to hell. Why, in the name of the great enchanted ram, is the website still online? Unanswerable questions aside, so as not to be completely undone, I did, without too much trouble, manage to hunt down another small booze emporium in the vicinity. And this excursion yielded a parallel discovery. I now know that this particular part of the centre, around Luz station, is overrun with shoppes supplying the restaurant trade. Places where one can find interesting objects such as swimming pool proportioned bain-maries. This discovery,though intriguing, was vastly incapable of quenching my beastly consumer lust, and, more than a little miffed at not finding my mecca, and thereby not being able to strike at least two bottles of the good stuff off my wish list, I opted to part with a mere R$13.90 (£5.23) for a bottle of Claudionor which I could easily have bought locally:


Here are some facts. Claudionor comes from the town of Januária in the state of Minas Gerais. I have read that Januária was once The Place for cachaça production in Minas but it has now been overshadowed by Salinas (The Islay-a-like region).
It is aged for a year/year and a half in casks of Umburana (aka Amburana) a wood renowned for its low impact on flavour. Amburana is also prized in the production of fine furniture, hence its current scarcity.
Claudionor is 48% vol.
This is a distinctive cachaça. Unlike any other previously imbibed, it sports a dryness and smoothness that belies the high alchol content. It glimmers an extremely pale gold in the glass, teetering on the titillating edges of transparency. One can taste the cane. Major points are scored for the label design and for its ever so low price, being a prime example of a quality cheap cachaça. It wasn't one that I set out to buy, but I'm more than happy to have it in my collection. I think it would go tremendously well with a small portion of pork crackling. However, in the interests my arteries, I generally opt to clear my palate with a handful of Wasabi Peas. I heart Wasabi Peas.