Napoleon was not one you could take lightly. For 23 years his armies engaged in warfare across most of the European continent, only coming to an end with his defeat at Waterloo in June, 1815.
So it seems natural that his image and lore would be attractive to the makers of various products, such as brandy. Such as, specifically, Courvoisier Brandy.
Courvoisier has long referred to its product as “The Brandy of Napoleon”. That phrase even went onto the distillery’s labels and the association was, obviously, that Napoleon liked that brand more than any other. Thus their advertising led you to believe that anybody with such impressively discerning tastes as the Emperor Napoleon would certainly prefer Courvoisier, too.
But there are several problems with that.
The first problem is that Napoleon didn’t drink distilled spirits and the second is that Courvoisier didn’t become a brand until 1835. Napoleon had already been dead for 14 years by 1835. A third was that Napoleon was not a gourmand. He preferred lentils, white beans and boiled potatoes and frequently ate hurriedly while standing up, which often led to bouts of indigestion. He also liked chicken.
Napoleon did enjoy a good burgundy and it’s the very same one you also can enjoy today. It is Gevery Chambertin and I assure you it’s good wine. It can be expensive depending on which label you buy. However even the less pricey ones can be excellent. Sadly, Napoleon, the non-gourmand, non-drinker added water to this beautiful wine, mixing it at a ratio of 50/50. So much for the discerning tastes of the emperor.
Virtue by Association
Vineyards aren’t the only ones guilty of name-dropping in the interest of profit. Several years ago I recall some people at Duke University, in North Carolina, liked to promote that school as the “Harvard of the South”, even though there was no evidence that Harvard sanctioned it. Harvard probably didn’t want to be called “The Duke of the Northeast” or, for that matter, the “Duke” of anything.
Stanford University in California was once informally called “The Harvard of the West” so the people who wanted Duke to be “The Harvard of the South” may have got the idea from Stanford. Apparently unfazed by such flattery, Harvard doesn’t admit any wish to be “The Stanford of the Ivy League.” It also may be that nobody anywhere now wants to be “the Harvard” of anything, although Harvard might refer to its esteemed self the “Courvoisier of pricey universities”.
Rumors have it that Napoleon died of arsenic poisoning in his wine
But, even though autopsies revealed high levels of arsenic in his system, it’s unlikely that it got in there in wine or was enough to kill him. In those days, arsenic was almost a universal contaminant found in clothing, food, upholstery, carpets and other furnishings. He may well have died of a stress-induced stomach ulcer but it seems impossible to have been from brandy or watered-down Chambertin.
One of the most convoluted victories Napoleon’ army won took place at Marengo, a village near Turin, Italy in 1800. By midday the French had lost that battle to the Austrian Army but then turned things around and won it by sundown. Books have been written about this amazing battle. I could not possibly do it justice to elaborate on it here. (But stay tuned!)
The storied version has it that after the day-long battle, a famished Napoleon ordered his chef to rustle up a really special supper. Unfortunately, in a rush to take on the enemy that morning, the chuck wagon got left behind. The intrepid chef was not deterred. He rode around to several farms and got enough supplies to make a feast, purportedly using Napoleon’s own sword to cut up the chicken and then seasoning it with brandy from the General’s own flask. But I’m afraid this is another instance of your leg being pulled.
However, I dug deep into this and was sufficiently intrigued to make the Chef’s version. I’m glad I did. It’s one of the best things I ever put together and I’m sharing it here with you. Just be aware that is takes a good bit of preparation and time. And that it’s worth it.
(This recipe results in multiple layers of tastes and you’ll find it below. You won’t regret going to the trouble of making it. I encourage you to find this out for yourself by becoming a paid subscriber and helping “EAT YOUR HISTORY” to stay alive.)
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Eat Your History to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.