{"id":25895,"date":"2025-07-08T08:29:30","date_gmt":"2025-07-08T05:29:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bitterbooze.vfhost.gr\/?p=25895"},"modified":"2026-03-08T13:59:12","modified_gmt":"2026-03-08T11:59:12","slug":"armenian-brandy-ararat-history","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.bitterbooze.com\/en\/armenian-brandy-ararat-history\/","title":{"rendered":"Armenian brandy: from Soviet era to modern Ararat revival"},"content":{"rendered":"

Original text in Greek<\/strong><\/em><\/h4>\n

You don\u2019t often get the chance to walk through the gates of a distillery whose products once played a role \u2014as a diplomatic gesture or, perhaps, a liquid lubricant\u2014 in the negotiations between Winston Churchill and Joseph Stalin<\/strong>. And yet, that\u2019s exactly where I found myself, whilst at the Yerevan Cocktail Week<\/strong><\/a>: at the Yerevan Brandy Company<\/strong>, home of the legendary Ararat<\/strong> armenian brandy<\/strong>. And while I\u2019ve visited distilleries in nearly every corner of the world, I can honestly say this one left an indelible mark, for reasons I\u2019ll get into shortly.<\/p>\n

Unlike Cognac, which is born of strict codes<\/a> and the polished elegance of Bordeaux\u2019s vineyard aristocracy, Armenian brandy <\/strong>is a spirit forged through hardship and heritage. Grown in high-altitude, volcanic terroir, shaped by a continental climate and centuries of adaptation, Armenian brandy<\/strong> doesn\u2019t follow a rigid playbook, yet it has soul. Deep, spicy, complex soul. And although its post-Soviet market identity was for years muddled (for decades it was sold under the label \u201cKonyak\u201d), it has now emerged with clarity, character, and confidence.<\/p>\n

\"\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf

\u0391\u03c0\u03cc \u03c4\u03bf \u03c3\u03b5\u03bc\u03b9\u03bd\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03cc \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf \u0393\u03b5\u03c1\u03b5\u03b2\u03ac\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5 \u03c4\u03af\u03c4\u03bb\u03bf: Armenian brandy vs Cognac – The Grand Slam in Yerevan<\/p><\/div>\n

Armenians have been making wine since roughly 4000 BCE, but distillation only entered the scene in the 19th century. Initially, it was mostly fruit-based spirits \u2014cherry and berry eau-de-vie\u2014 but the shift to wine-based brandy came thanks to a man named Nerses Tairyan<\/strong>, an Armenian merchant who studied viticulture and distillation in France. In 1887, together with his cousin Vasily Tairyan<\/strong>, he planted new vineyards and founded what would later become the Yerevan Brandy Company<\/strong>.<\/p>\n

The company began brandy production in 1894, at an industrial scale, and in 1899 was leased (and later purchased) by Nikolay Shustov<\/strong>, a Russian liquor distributor who expanded its reach across Eastern Europe. Legend has it that Shustov secretly submitted his Armenian brandy to a blind tasting at the 1900 Paris World\u2019s Fair<\/strong>, where it was mistaken for fine Cognac and awarded the Grand Prix. Upon revealing its origin, he was allegedly granted permission to use the term \u201cCognac<\/strong>\u201d on his labels \u2014 a practice that, in those pre-EU, pre-regulation days, was not unheard of. After all, even Greek Metaxa<\/strong> was once labeled \u201cCognac<\/strong>\u201d. But that\u2019s another story.<\/p>\n

From Soviet symbol to global revival<\/h2>\n

In 1920<\/strong>, with the establishment of Soviet Armenia, the company was nationalized. The Yerevan Brandy and Wine Trust<\/strong> was given a monopoly over Armenian brandy production, just as Georgia was designated the official wine supplier of the USSR. It was during this era (mid-20th century) that the brandy became known as Ararat<\/strong>, earning a revered place among Soviet leaders, diplomats, and European visitors alike.<\/p>\n

Following the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, the factory lost its monopoly. In 1998<\/strong>, in a twist only history could script, the Yerevan Brandy Company<\/strong> was privatized and sold to Pernod Ricard for $30 million, through a competitive bidding process involving Merrill Lynch and New Zealand\u2019s Admiralty Investment Group. From the ashes of a fallen system, Armenian brandy <\/strong>was reborn, nowwith global reach and renewed prestige.<\/p>\n

\"\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf

\u0397 \u03b5\u03c0\u03af\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03c8\u03ae \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf Yerevan Brandy Company<\/p><\/div>\n

Terroir, grape and grit<\/h2>\n

Armenian brandy grapes grow not on rolling hills as in Cognac, but on high-altitude, volcanic terrain (800 to 1,200 meters above sea level) in regions like Ararat Valley, Tavush, Vayots Dzor, and Artsakh (also known as Nagorno-Karabakh), a region with a l<\/strong>ong and complex history of territorial disputes and political tension between Armenia and Azerbaijan. The climate is extreme: hot, dry summers and freezing winters. The result? Grapes with rich sugar and acid balance, ideal for expressive distillates. Local varieties like Voskehat<\/strong>, Kangun<\/strong>, Garan Dmak<\/strong>, and Banants<\/strong> lend distinct character \u2014bold, floral, spicy, and unmistakably Armenian.<\/p>\n\"\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\n

Fermentation & distillation<\/h2>\n

As in Cognac, a dry white base wine is fermented \u2014typically to 10\u201312% ABV. The aim is freshness, acidity, and minimal spoilage risk before distillation. Distillation follows the Charentais double-distillation method<\/strong>, using copper pot stills. Importantly, continuous stills are banned<\/strong> for true Armenian brandy. In top-tier houses like Ararat, quality trumps volume.<\/p>\n

Maturation in Caucasian oak<\/h2>\n

Armenian brandy matures in Caucasian oak barrels<\/strong>, sourced from forests in Artsakh and Tavush<\/strong>. These oaks have tighter grain than French oak, contributing notes of walnut, vanilla, cocoa, clove<\/strong>, and a resinous, earthy sweetness that defines the Ararat style.<\/p>\n

Thanks to the climate and the grape DNA, maturation is accelerated. The angel\u2019s share can reach 3\u20134% per year<\/strong>, and even a 3-year-old spirit shows impressive depth and integration.<\/p>\n\"\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\n

From Yalta, with love<\/h2>\n

One of Armenian brandy\u2019s most iconic stories involves the 1945 Yalta Conference<\/strong>, where Stalin offered Churchill a glass of Ararat Dvin<\/strong>. The British Prime Minister was reportedly so impressed, he requested 400 bottles per year<\/strong> \u2014 a tradition said to have continued until his death. While historians debate the specifics, Armenians fondly repeat one of Churchill\u2019s most quoted (and possibly apocryphal) lines:
\u201cCuban cigars, Armenian brandy, and no sport \u2014 the secrets to a long life.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

Categorization and Market<\/h2>\n

Today, Armenian brandy is categorized by aging:<\/p>\n

    \n
  • \n

    Ordinary<\/strong> (3\u20135 years)<\/p>\n<\/li>\n

  • \n

    Branded<\/strong> (minimum 6 years)<\/p>\n<\/li>\n

  • \n

    Collection<\/strong> (blends aged at least 3 additional years after blending)<\/p>\n<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n

    Roughly 90% of Armenian brandy is exported<\/strong>, historically to former USSR countries. In Russia, it continued to be labeled “Konyak,” while in Europe it appeared as “Armenian brandy<\/strong>.” Following Pernod Ricard\u2019s acquisition and long negotiations with the EU, the company officially dropped the “Konyak<\/strong>” name \u2014 especially after Russia\u2019s invasion of Ukraine, which led Pernod Ricard to withdraw from the Russian market.<\/p>\n

    Today, Ararat<\/strong> is distributed globally \u2014 proudly labeled as Armenian Brandy<\/strong>.<\/p>\n\"Ararat\"\n

    Visiting the temple of Armenian brandy<\/h2>\n

    During my visit to Yerevan Cocktail Week<\/strong>, just before delivering a talk comparing Cognac and Armenian brandy, I had the privilege of touring the Yerevan Brandy Company<\/strong>. Towering above the city, with Victory Bridge<\/strong> behind me and endless rows of oak casks ahead, it felt more like a temple than a factory.<\/p>\n

    Inside, I walked past commemorative barrels<\/strong> bearing the names of global leaders \u2014 including two former Greek presidents. I saw rare bottlings<\/strong>, dusty old labels, and displays chronicling a journey through war, revolution, rebirth, and modern luxury. It was a time capsule and a powerful reminder that some spirits carry far more than aroma and ABV. They carry history.<\/p>\n\"Ararat,\n

    Tasting Ararat<\/h2>\n

    During my stay, I tasted countless expressions \u2014 from the entry-level Three Stars<\/strong> to the majestic Nairi 20 Year<\/strong> and the legendary Dvin Reserve<\/strong>. Ararat brandies exhibit a distinctive profile: dried apricot, fig, plum, toasted walnut, sweet spice, cocoa, and just a hint of coffee bitterness<\/strong>. Even the younger expressions are smooth, mellow, and well-integrated, no harsh alcohol burn, no cloying vanilla. Just rich, warming texture, long finish, and unmistakable character.<\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

    Original text in Greek You don\u2019t often get the chance to walk through the gates of a distillery whose products once played a role \u2014as a diplomatic gesture or, perhaps, a liquid lubricant\u2014 in the negotiations between Winston Churchill and Joseph Stalin. And yet, that\u2019s exactly where I found myself, whilst at the Yerevan Cocktail […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":24145,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2325],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-25895","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-articles-en"],"acf":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.bitterbooze.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/DSC07918.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bitterbooze.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25895","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bitterbooze.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bitterbooze.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bitterbooze.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bitterbooze.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=25895"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.bitterbooze.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25895\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":25897,"href":"https:\/\/www.bitterbooze.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25895\/revisions\/25897"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bitterbooze.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/24145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bitterbooze.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=25895"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bitterbooze.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=25895"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bitterbooze.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=25895"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}