Remy Martin masterclass at Boisdale

Boisdale is becoming something of a second home. No sooner had I been kicked off the roof terrace for making too much noise at the end of a very merry Groundhog Day dinner sampling the delights of Chivas Regal, than I was invited back for a Rémy Martin masterclass.

The event was hosted by the gallantly-titled Louis XIII Brand Ambassador Alexandre Quintin, a young Frenchman with clear blue eyes and a voice that could melt glass.

A duo of Rémy Martin cocktails – the Side Car and French Mojito, kicked off the evening in style, which I enjoyed whilst quizzing Alexandre about the alleged Bruni-Sarkozy ménage a quatre. A French colleague had told me the affairs hadn't been reported in the French press at all, and I was keen to find out why.

'We're not interested in what Sarkozy gets up to in his spare time', Alexandre says, before we're ushered into the dining room. There are ten of us, and I'm one of only two women. I suppose Cognac has always been, and still is, a male domain. Alexandre introduces himself and his aim for the evening – to turn the concept of Cognac on its head and break the rules by playing with temperature and food matches.

The word brandy comes from the Dutch brandewijn, meaning burnt wine, which came into use when Dutch traders introduced brandy to Northern Europe from Southern France. Alexandre explains that all Cognacs are brandies but not all brandies are Cognacs. In order to be classified as Cognac, the brandy needs to be from the Cognac region, have been double distilled and aged in French oak for at least two years, and be 40% abv or above when bottled.

The best Cognacs come from Grand and Petit Champagne regions due to their Champagne-like chalky soils that impart the Cognacs with minerality and high acidity, making them more refined and elegant and giving them greater ageing potential.

Time to put all this theory into practice... the waiter emerges with shot glasses of Rémy Martin VSOP frozen to -18 degrees, which is paired with smoked salmon blinis. It has a lovely floral nose with toffee and caramel undertones and hints of aniseed and banana brought though by the freezing temperature.

Next up we try the same VSOP, but this time at room temperature paired with Roquefort and wild rocket. At the higher temperature more of the fruit and floral aromas come through – I find peach, apricot and violet, and vanilla from the oak. The tangy Roquefort pairing is inspired.

We move swiftly on to the Remy Martin XO at room temperature with a steak-sized slab of foie gras and brioche. Alexandre tells us not to swirl our glasses. Unlike wine, which needs a swirl to release the aromas, swirling Cognac has little benefit, as it only releases the alcohol.

The XO is delicious – soft and smooth, with toffee apple, vanilla, lightly-whipped cream and a hint of lemon on the nose, and a spicy, woody, floral palate of cinnamon, iris, dried figs and marzipan. The creaminess of the wine blends wonderfully with the richness of the foie gras, making for an unashamedly decadent combination.

For the grand finale we try the Coeur de Cognac at room temperature with blood orange sorbet and on crushed ice with tarte tartin and vanilla ice cream. Aimed at a younger audience and for a more European palate, the Coeur de Cognac is fruit driven and smooth. Served in a magically light Riedel that almost floats out of my hand, on taking a sniff I'm whacked with a wall of alcohol and a nose of figs, smoke and strawberry shortcake. The palate is woody, with hints of dark chocolate and marshmellow that marry well with the vanilla ice cream.

Before we retire to the roof terrace to puff on Punch Habana cigars, a rather squiffy member of the group in a pink shirt and red braces stands up, glass in hand, and declares: 'Claret for boys, Port for men and Cognac for heroes' – I'll drink to that.

Chivas Regal at Boisdale

I love a good cigar every now and then, there's something celebratory about them, like Champagne – something decadent and slightly mischievous.

I was lucky enough to be able to indulge in such Churchillian pursuits on Tuesday night, at the gallantly titled 'Chivas 7 Cs of Chivalry' dinner at Boisdale in Belgravia, a paean to tartan run by cigar afficionado Ranald Macdonald.

Only last week had I donned my kilt for the Monkey Shoulder Burns night celebrations, but felt duty bound to whip it on again, along with a purple velvet smoking jacket, natch. Greeted with Perrier Jouet Belle Epoque-tails on arrival, I get talking over canapés to a seasoned freelance journalist called Judy about her stint as a sex book writer. 'It's like anything in life', she informs me, 'if you do your research, you'll be fine'. At which point we are swiftly seated.

The dinner, hosted by Chivas Ambassador Phil Huckle, promised to explore the four pillars of chivalry: gallantry, brotherhood, honour and valour. I am seated next to William from The Express, who used to write quizzes for Cosmopolitan. There's a theme emerging here... To my right is Dominic Midgley, of London Paper fame. I ask him how his book on Russian oligarchs is going. 'Very well, but my agent wants another 10,000 words before he starts going to publishers. He keeps dangling the carrot and making me write more'.

We are stopped mid conversation by a floral-shirted Ranald, who taps a spoon against his Champagne glass and summons Phil Huckle, who makes an impassioned speech about the merits of chivalry, and how woman are still won over by chivalrous acts – he's right, I certainly suffer from White Knight syndrome. Everything we eat and drink begins with the letter C: Champagne, Chivas, canapés, caviar, charcuterie – a curious concept.

An exquisite chocolate three ways desert with 'honour' etched onto the side of the plate does the rounds, along with Chivas 18-year-old, which I water down when no one is looking. We then retire to the roof terrace for cigars. Cocooning myself in a tartan blanket, I see Ranald lighting up, and he encourages me to do the same. Tonight we're on the Romeo y Julietas. Apparently cigars got their literary names after the beloved books that were read out to the factory workers while they rolled.

The cigar is seriously huge; easily the biggest I've ever smoked. I puff away on it with brio and manage to make short work of it. I smoke it so fast, that Mr Chivas declares it's the most impressive cigar action he's ever witnessed. Perhaps I'm a natural, which is rather worrying. Mid cigar, I get to try Chivas Regal 25-year-old, a mere year younger than me. At £200 a bottle, it's not cheap, but even I, whisky neophyte that I am, can appreciate its complexity. No sooner had I pondered its peachy almond depths, than we were kicked off the roof for making too much noise. How unchivalrous!

Tasting notes

Château de Ricaud, Bordeaux 2005

A lively nose of ripe cherries, black berries and forest fruits. Heady and elegant, the palate was silky, smooth and rounded, with luxurious spices, black pepper, and a long licorice finish.

Chivas 18-year-old

A secondary fruit nose of candid peel, sultanas and Old Spice aftershave. Fresh, citrusy and clean on the palate, I found caramel, honey and fruitcake mixing into a long nutty finish.

Chivas Regal 25-year-old

A complex nose of peach, orange peel, cloves, cinnamon and woody spices from the oak. The palate was smooth, almost creamy, with toffee, caramel and almonds in the mix. Elegant, clean and beautifully balanced, it had a long rewarding finish.