I don't care ... Armenians put on the label. It was not, is not and will never be Cognac, one of the most sacred of titles, reserved for a brandy distilled within a defined geographic area, the Charente, from the mostly semi-undrinkable white wines of the area, aged to a modest requirement set by law.

"Conac" with a curly-cue over the "n" is not Cognac either, although Spanish Brandies ranges from the truly nasty to some of the world;'s most drinkable.

"Armagnac", from another part of France, the Southwest, has many adherents who find it equal or preferable to most Cognacs.

I mourn for the popular Cognac brands of my youth, which these days, at least in the US, especially Hennessy and Courvoisier, been doctored to meet the tastes of those segments of society which have adopted them. Thicker, heavier and more syrupy to my palate than half a century ago, they are just right for those quaint folk who mix theirs with Coke.

For everyday "Cognac", not that good Cognac can ever be "everyday", Hine remains trustworthy, clear, a defined aroma and not clogged with a heavy aftertaste. Most of the folks who are so enamored of Cognac these days would be unlikely to realize that you had sloshed a jigger of Christian Bros. in their snifters (or their damnable highball glasses to top off with Coca Cola). It's mostly affectation.

God does permit, for older gents, the occasional "Brandy & Soda", a decent Cognac or merited Spanish Brandy (Domeq's Fundador at the bottom, hopefully chosen from higher on the brandy tree, Carlo I used to be pretty good) in a heavy cut crystal "rocks" glass, no ice, but a squirt of chilled soda from the siphon. We brought back a new set of glasses from Prague last year, and the deeply incised facets give the brandy more colors than the church windows of Prague.