Vodka: Clear and Present Danger

Standing amid pleather ottomans in a dimly lit Manhattan lounge, New York Giants defensive lineman Jason Pierre-Paul was mystified by the vodka bottle before him. It had a screw top; conspicuously absent from its label were a flock of gray geese, a mogul's chateau, or any symbol of gratuitous wealth. Concerned, Pierre-Paul looked up Wódka Vodka on his smartphone and discovered that it retailed for $12. "What the f—k are you serving this for!" he barked at Matt Shendell, proprietor of The Hill bar and restaurant. In response, Shendell persuaded Pierre-Paul to taste the one-time Soviet favorite before passing judgment. He did. At the end of the night, he took a bottle home with him.

Wódka's journey from Polish tractor factories to American nightclubs is the result of vodka's latest reinvention. After a decades-long march of absurdly expensive "ultra-premium" and "super-premium" vodkas (Belvedere, Grey Goose, Chopin), the industry has come up with a new recession-proof formula—absurdly cheap "premium" vodkas. Along with Wódka, more than 50 vodkas with sub-$20 price tags and ridiculous names—KU:L, Blue Feather, and L'Chaim, to name a few—have recently created a vodka niche in the affordable luxury category. "If you can put 'ultra-premium' on your label and sell it at a low price point," says Agata Kaczanowska, a beverage analyst with researcher IBIS World, "you're going to be well off." According to Garima Goel Lal, a senior analyst at market research firm Mintel International Group, "Over one-quarter of all spirits drinkers reported moving to cheaper brands in 2010." And many cheap premium vodkas are now taking aim at vestiges of pre-Lehman excess. "Smirnoff?" says James Dale, Wódka's co-owner. "They can go f—k themselves, mate. You can print that!"