Transparently trendy

There’s something a little unnerving about vodka. Sure, we love it -- it’s by far the most popular spirit in America. And plenty of vodka drinkers have fierce loyalties to expensive brands. Order a “vodka martini”? Never. Make that a Grey Goose or a Ketel One.

At stylish bars, it’s displayed with back-lit drama: rows of cool-looking bottles of Rain, with its cobalt-blue glass stopper; Wyborowa, in the twisted skyscraper of a bottle designed by Frank Gehry and Vox, sleekly styled from Austrian glass; and Blue Ice and Hangar One and Zyr and Grey Goose.

Vodka advertising is all about attention-grabbing sexiness and style -- lots of shiny skin, red lips and even a little vodka here and there. And, of course, it’s working: The so-called super-premium vodka market has exploded with 32% growth in the last four years, according to Shawn Kelley of the Distilled Spirits Council of the United States. Last year alone, super-premiums -- which Kelley defines as vodkas that retail for more than $30 -- were up 21%, making them the fastest-growing category of the fastest-growing segment of the spirits industry.

“There seems to be a new vodka brand every two months,” says Jim Knight, sales manager of the Wine House in West Los Angeles. The store’s vodka sales, he estimates, are up 50% from last year. “If I stocked every brand of vodka available to us, it would take up our whole liquor section.”

And yet.

We’re talking about a spirit that’s officially “without distinctive character, aroma, taste, or color,” as the U.S. government defines it. A transparent jolt of alcohol that mixes effortlessly with just about anything, with none of the demands of acquiring a taste for gin or whiskey.

In the end, is vodka merely the perfect vessel into which to pour our idealized visions of our stylish selves? Or are there actual, discernible differences between a $16 Finlandia and a $60 Stoli?

The vodka companies would certainly have us believe there are. They do this by touting ingredients or fancy-sounding production methods -- Polish potatoes (Chopin vodka) or “pure water of Sweden’s Lake Boren” (Precis vodka) or filtration through diamond dust (Rain vodka). 3 vodka has a trademark on the phrase “made smooth from soy.” Shakers vodka from Minnesota is made in two versions: wheat and rye. Smirnoff doesn’t say what it’s made from but points out on the front label that it’s triple distilled and “ten x filtered.”

That’s a far cry from the spirit’s distant origins, which date back more than 600 years to the vodka belt of Eastern Europe -- Finland, Russia, Poland, Sweden and the Baltics. Vodka is an absurdly simple distillate: To make it, you just ferment a mash of grain, fruit or vegetable, then distill it. Just about any old thing you’ve got growing in the ground can be fermented, and unlike whiskey, vodka needs no barrel aging.

But is potato better than grain or vice versa? No; neither is necessarily superior, though different ingredients do seem to yield different qualities. Potato vodkas, for instance, seem to be a bit rounder and sweeter than grain-based vodkas. Rye vodka tends to have some of the spiciness that you associate with that grain. Ciroc, “distilled from fine French grapes,” is unmistakably fruity with aromas of citrus, reminding one more of grappa (which it technically is) than traditional vodka made from grain.

A super-premium vodka is smooth and lush in a way that a simple premium (a vodka that retails for $20 to $30 and tends to be a little thinner and harsher) usually is not.

Distinctions are subtle

A great vodka can also have a certain degree of complexity. Indeed, they’re not completely odorless and flavorless, just nominally so. A vodka has only the briefest of windows to offer simple aromas like citrus and spice before the insides of the nostrils are singed by the alcohol. In the mouth, flavor can be occasionally glimpsed, but again, the distinctions are subtle.

Texture is of far more importance; it can range from lithely slender and high-toned to lush and mouth-filling. Both can be nice, so long as they are reasonably smooth and finish cleanly, which isn’t always the case when you’re dealing with something that is 40% alcohol.

So is there anything to those boasts about ingredients? Though higher-quality ingredients do generally yield higher-quality spirits, you’re still talking about wheat or corn or potatoes. Can Russian potatoes be much different than Polish ones or those from Idaho? Certainly not after fermentation and distillation.

What about water sources? Even if it’s “pure, fresh mountain water” (Pearl vodka from Canada), its desirable attribute is cleanliness, which can be accomplished easily through distillation or reverse osmosis.

Ah, but let’s not forget filtration. This might be through “quartz, charcoal, quartz again, and finally woven cloth” (Stoli) or “a combination of three different charcoals, made from a blend of birch, peat and coconut shells” (Shakers). Charbay vodka, from Napa, takes the opposite tack. Suggesting that all the puffery about filtration is a red herring, Charbay sells vodkas that are “only lightly filtered to preserve the body, natural mouthfeel & gentle grain fragrance.”

It’s true that Charbay is lightly fragrant and Pearl is clean and pure and Stoli elit is remarkably smooth. But they also cost $25, $24 and $52 respectively. And once you stick them in the freezer or pour them on the rocks with tonic -- in other words, the ways most people drink them -- they’re barely distinguishable from Skyy or Rain or even Smirnoff.

Most of the new fabulous vodkas don’t come cheap. Just a few years ago all the top brands maxed out in the $30 range. But as the posher bottles have gotten taller and taller, a few brands -- Stoli elit, Jewel of Russia “Ultra” and Ultimat, from Poland -- are now pushing up into the $50 and $60 stratosphere.

The bottom line: Pour the best high-end vodkas on the rocks, or drink them straight up or in a martini. Save the lower-end brands for mixing. A Grey Goose martini may be rakishly slick and persistent, but a Grey Goose Bloody Mary is a waste of both money and vodka: Reach for the Smirnoff instead.

Unless, of course, there’s some sexy young thing making eyes at you from the end of the bar. Then you want to point to the vodka that gives you the best chance of seeming tanned, toned, witty and elegant. But which one? There are so many....

Don’t take too long to make your choice, or she’ll be gone.

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How the vodkas measure up

Tasting vodkas is actually no walk in Gorky Park, since the most telling way to taste them is also the least pleasant: straight and at room temperature. Chilling vodka masks its flaws almost as much as mixing it does. To get a sense of how some might fare in a cocktail, I sampled a few of them mixed with tonic or in a shaken martini made with a 5-1 ratio of vodka to dry vermouth.

The results were instructive, occasionally surprising. Who would have thought, for instance, that an inexpensive vodka made in a little still near the airport in Austin, Texas, by a guy named Tito Beveridge could be so smooth? And who would have guessed that Ultimat, a $50 vodka from Poland, would be so disappointing? Or that a vodka could be too good to use in a martini, as I found with the fabulously rich and smooth Stolichnaya elit, the only “super luxury” vodka that’s worth its price.

It was also surprising to find how much the bottles -- which, unlike wine bottles, vary widely in design -- influenced my response. Not in the tasting, which was blind, but afterward when I found myself reflecting on whether I’d buy the brand. That Tito’s cheap packaging seemed out of sync with the sophistication of the vodka happened to be charming. But these bottles do beg to be displayed on the shelf.

Here’s how they stacked up in a recent tasting, in descending order of preference. All the vodkas, with the exception of Tito’s and Zyr, are widely available at fine liquor retailers.

Stoli elit (Russia, $60). If you’re willing to pay this much for a vodka, this should be the one you buy. Introduced three months ago, elit is lean and pure on the nose, with faint aromas of grain and spice. Amazingly creamy, lush and mouth-filling with flavors suggesting rich, milky chocolate. Regal. Drink straight, slightly chilled.

Chopin (Poland, $28). Provenance watchers will be glad to know that this vodka is made from hand-harvested Stobrawa potatoes, whatever those are. With faintly earthy aromas, it is rich and mouth-filling, exceptionally smooth and creamy. There’s a suggestion of sweetness on the finish. If you’re going to drink a vodka martini, this would be a good foundation.

Hangar One (California, $34). Made in a hangar in Alameda from grain and a small proportion of Viognier grapes, this vodka is distinctive and compelling. Highly aromatic and complex with high tones of perfume and fruit. Light, crisp and fruity in the mouth with a vibrant, bright finish. Best straight up and chilled.

Grey Goose (France, $30). Very aromatic with strong hints of orange jellied candy. It’s sweet and citrusy in the mouth as well, with notes of vanilla. Lively, interesting and very smooth.

Blue Ice Potato Vodka (Idaho, $20). Invented by Jim Meyerson, founder of wine wholesaler Wine Warehouse, this has hints of light fruitiness. Clean and smooth, not creamy, but with a little spicy complexity. Good for mixing or straight up.

Shakers Rye (Minnesota, $30). You can actually smell the spiciness of the rye grain; it’s like liquid rye bread. Clean and aromatic, with a light finish. Good straight or on the rocks. The packaging is a tad cheesy; a vodka of this quality would be better served by a more attractive container.

Zyr (Russia, $32). The name comes from the Russian phrase zyrkalo mira, which means “reflection of the world.” This newcomer to the vodka lounge was created by an American who went to Russia in search of a vodka to import. Clean and direct with hints of citrus and herb. Bright, focused and tasty in the mouth. Rich, intense flavor with a rather angular structure. Nice blue Art Deco-style bottle. Available only at Mel and Rose Wine and Spirits in Los Angeles.

Tito’s Handmade Vodka (Texas, $18). Exceptionally clean and pure and almost devoid of aromas. Smooth and easy drinking, it’s a medium-bodied, textbook vodka that stands out mostly for its utter lack of flaws. Excellent value. Sold exclusively at Trader Joe’s stores.

Jewel of Russia Classic (Russia, $30). This is the low-end model to the $60 “Ultra” model (not tasted). But it’s still quite nice, with a very clean nose and a big, round body. Smooth and pleasantly creamy on the palate. The finish may burn a bit, but that will keep you warm on your next ice-fishing trip.

Finlandia (Finland, $16). At half the price of most super-premiums, Finlandia delivers what you want in a neutral spirit. Little flavor, but little harshness or burn either. It defines clean: clean nose, clean palate, clean finish. Perfect for mixing, it even works in a vodka martini -- especially a dirty one.

Ciroc (France, $30). This grappa, er, vodka smells like lemons and limes. Made from “fine French grapes,” this is the one to remind us that vodka can be made from anything. Ciroc, so bright and fruity, won’t seem like vodka to most people, though. Completely atypical but pleasant in its own right.

Ultimat (Poland, $55). Slightly harsh and medicinal aromas. Clean in the mouth, but rather undistinguished and rough. The handmade crystal bottle is clunky and inelegant.

-- Jordan Mackay