Grey Goose. Smirnoff. Jenkins. If you had your pick of these three vodkas at a party, which one would you pick?
Now, throw in some Brita filtered Jenkins into the mix.
I had long ago heard rumors that running cheap vodka through a Brita filter would make it taste better, but to give credit where it's due, it wasn't me who whipped out the filter. But, I was certainly eager to volunteer as a tester (in the name of science).
So, after trekking downhill only to witness Def Jam's surprisingly early demise this past weekend, my friends and I did what any bright and inquisitive (and bored) Jumbo would do: we mounted an
experiment.
Aim
To rank four vodkas (Grey Goose, Smirnoff, unfiltered Jenkins, and filtered Jenkins) from best to worst in a blind taste-test.
Materials
1. Three bottles of vodka, roughly categorized as "Good," "OK," or "Bad." We used Grey Goose ("Good"), Smirnoff ("OK") and Jenkins ("Bad"). Note: we used "normal" Smirnoff, not the premium triple-distilled one.
2. Shot glasses, four per tester. In our case, we used Dixie cups as we didn't have enough shot glasses to go around.
3. One Brita filter (and accompanying pitcher).
4. Testers (we numbered three).
5. One sober person to run the experiment (Lily).
6. Slips of paper to write our votes.
Procedure
We started out by filtering half a pitcher's worth of Jenkins, using a Brita filter. For those of you who may want to try this yourselves (and yes, you can try this experiment at home, kiddies!), don't forget to prime your filter with water first if you decide to use a new cartridge.
As recommended by fellow lushes on the Internet, we filtered the Jenkins three times. The filtering process takes a while, so make sure you've got something to do while waiting. If you're impatient, you can filter the vodka fewer times, but word on the street is that this is not as effective in cleaning out the taste.
Following the filtration process, quality control officer Lily banished me and my fellow testers to the living room. She proceeded to fill our Dixie cups with the four libations.
Lily then ushered us back into the kitchen, where four unlabeled Dixie cups of vodka greeted each of us.
Bracing myself, I took a sip from Dixie cup No. 1. Not bad. Smirnoff, perhaps? Feeling a little braver after the first cup, I approached cup Number Two as a rookie wine connoisseur wannabe approaches a wine at a wine tasting; playing scientist apparently makes me a bit delusional (no, it wasn't that tiny a sip of vodka). I wanted to appreciate the body and feel of whatever lay within.
Bad decision - it burned all the way down and continued to fester for several long minutes in my stomach. It was most definitely not something to savour. My vote: unfiltered Jenkins. Only rubbing alcohol (or 151?) could have been worse.
With what I believed to be Smirnoff and unfiltered Jenkins out of the way, I looked at cups Three and Four with a little less trepidation: Grey Goose and filtered Jenkins. I knew Grey Goose would be OK (but then again, anything would be "OK" following cupNumber Two), and I had faith in the Jenkins filtering process. Indeed, the last two cups were the most mellow. My vote: Grey Goose was the smoother of the two (cup Number Four).
We finished up what remained in our cups (I am embarrassed to admit I downed even cup Number Two) and our trusted Lily revealed to us the true nature of what was in the cups. Would Grey Goose live up to its claim to be the "World's Best Tasting Vodka?"
Results
Cup Number One: Smirnoff. Cup Number Two: unfiltered Jenkins. (No surprise there!) Then came the doozy: the smoother vodka in cup Number Four was in fact filtered Jenkins, not Grey Goose! So, in this blind taste test, I had placed filtered Jenkins in first place, Grey Goose in second, Smirnoff third and Jenkins rounded up the set in dead last.
Why and how does this work? Vodka, as I understand it, is produced through a process of distillation and then, depending on the grade of vodka, is filtered through either charcoal or more complex means.
The source water used in making vodka also makes a lot of difference in its quality. Harder water contains more impurities and causes more of a "bite" - this is where the filtration process comes in. Chemical filtration using a charcoal filter like Brita (as opposed to physical filtration through something like a coffee filter) removes congeners (organic impurities) within.
But what about the alcohol? Good news: filtering will not remove the alcohol from your cheap vodka (or whatever else you choose to force down your Brita). Believe me, after only two heavy-handed glasses of cranberry juice and filtered Jenkins the day after the experiment, I fell into bed surprisingly tipsy. (I really could not tell that there was any vodka in the drink at all!)
Filtration can remove much of the character of vodka, however. More expensive vodkas claim to choose their filtration processes (if they filter) very carefully in order to retain desirable characteristics such as fruity esthers. Grey Goose says that its water is naturally filtered through champagne limestone, almost as impressive as Rain vodka's boast of filtration via diamond dust.
Some distillers are against filtration all together, to avoid removing the character of their vodka. Distiller Marko Karakasevik tells Wine Enthusiast magazine that filtration strips a vodka of its "body and mouthfeel."
But let's face it - if that "body and mouthfeel" makes me jump around the kitchen in pain like straight unfiltered Jenkins did, I think I'll go for smooth, bland filtered to go with my cranberry juice any day.
Next experiment: Who wants to try their hand at making absinthe?
