The wine has the most basic name possible for a $1000 Napa Cab: "Rarity". It's as if a brothel were named "Sex": the name tells you exactly what you're overpaying for.Then came the sequel: The $3000 breakfast Cognac. A sample:
I hoped it wouldn't be a traditional French breakfast of coffee, a cigarette, and ennui. Of course that wouldn't happen, not in smoking-averse San Francisco, not where we pay $8 for avocado toast. Would it?
The latter story followed all the rules of sequels: It's more expensive, louder, and with a higher body count. The question is, if this is to be The $$$$ Breakfast Trilogy, where can I go next? I decided to look it up.
There are 12 wines in the world that cost more than $3000, according to Wine-Searcher. Here's the list. Moreover, some of them sound like a pretty good pairing with an omelet. So I can hope.
Whiskey is promising, though Bourbon prices are more restrained than you might think, given its boom in popularity. Though even Pappy Van Winkle 23-year-old can be had for a mere $2000, I suppose I could drink it on a helicopter. Or with escorts. As long as there's breakfast. Whaddya think, Buffalo Trace?
I thought there might be more opportunities for Scotch and Japanese whiskey, but Wine-Searcher lists only four bottlings that cost more than $3000. Of course, three are by the same producer, so ... hmm, higher body count. Could work.
When it comes to really pricey booze, though, clearly Cognac is still the king. The $3000 Cognac that was the focus of Part II of The $$$$ Breakfast Series? Wine-Searcher lists it as only the 18th most expensive Cognac you can buy. So much rancio*, I can barely contain myself.
So just to be clear, if you are a producer of super-expensive wine or spirits, I'm open for breakfast. Though next time I'll probably eat first.
* From Part II: Loiseau asks us what we think of the Cognac. The other two are spirits writers and the older guy goes first. This happens all the time with wine: we're not tasting the same things. He's getting mushrooms and peaches, but mainly he's getting rancio. "Loads and loads of rancio," he says. "Peaches, stone fruit, rancio, a cross between orange zest and lemon blossom, rancio." In the interest of brevity I am eliminating about 20 of his references to "rancio".
I have no idea what rancio is. I feel like an undergrad math major who walked into a doctorate-level transgender theory class. Not wanting to make a fool of myself, I determine to stay quiet.
Read the latest installment, "Hunger, Hardship and the $3000 Breakfast Cognac."