Showing posts with label whiskey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label whiskey. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Home Fires: The State of Home Distilling in the US

Lew Bryson, editor at Whisky Advocate, asked me write about the current state of affairs for home distilling in the United States. A blanket federal ban on the practice is in place, but a few states are bucking those laws with more permissive laws and regulations of their own. Regardless of the laws, sub rosa distillers from the East Coast to the West are making an awful lot of homemade liquor for themselves, their families, and friends. No, I didn't forget you, Alaska. In fact, I'd be surprised if we don't see a new reality show called something like Alaska Bootleggers or Ice Road Moonshiners in the near future. From the Fall 2013 issue of Whisky Advocate, here's a piece originally titled Home Fires.

Casual observers often assume that home distilling, like wine making or beer brewing, is legal in America. Zymurgy Bob knows better. According to federal law, distilleries are never permissible in homes. His advice? “Do everything you can to reduce your visibility to the law,” he exhorts. “Conceal what you are doing.” The pseudonymous author of Making Fine Spirits, a guide to building and operating home-scale stills, closes his introductory chapter with modern home distilling’s most ironclad commandment: Thou Shalt Not Sell.

Alcohol distillation in the United States is highly regulated and federal judicial code is uniformly severe with those who skirt the rules. Once federal prosecutors bring charges against a suspect for illicit distillation, they are forbidden by law from dropping the case without express written permission from the Attorney General. If found guilty, violators could face up to five years in prison and be fined $10,000. Because illicit distillation, the argument goes, is a tax dodge, those who defraud the United States of tax revenue through such clandestine distilling shall forfeit (not may or mightshall forfeit) the land on which the distillery is located as well as equipment used to make spirits and all personal property in the building and yard.

Running off a few liters of whiskey or ultra-pure vodka in the basement may seem a harmless pastime to some, but are they perverse enough to risk losing homes, land, and nearly all their possessions by actually firing up a still?

For thousands of Americans, the answer is yes. Across the country, hobbyists buy and build small stills for making spirits in secret. Profit is beside the point; these distillers do not sell their products. Compared to the output of Chivas or Beam, their covert batches of gin, rum, seasonal brandies, whiskey, and hausgemacht absinthe are miniscule. Tuthilltown Spirits alone loses more in angel’s share than what most hobbyists produce in a year. Their enthusiasm, however, burns no less brighter than that of professional — and legal — craft practioners.

One California hobbyist, Navy Frank, grows wormwood in his yard and keeps glass jugs of homemade spirits in his dining room. Home distilling, as Frank describes it, is a facet of a larger DIY ethos. “It’s a maker mentality that drives people to make homemade cheese or beer or build something with their own hands or garden. There’s all this wonderful cross-pollination. If you sketched the connections of what people like us get excited about, they would form the most overlapping Venn diagram ever.”

Frank — not his real name — is a Navy veteran and an engineer by trade. In his cellar he makes rum, neutral spirits, absinthe, honey distillates, and a peated single malt. “That’s probably my favorite, but after sharing, and sampling, and more sharing, I’m down to just one bottle.” His modular distillery system uses three separate pots that can be rigged with different heads and condensers that vary with what, and how much, he is making. The largest boiler could hold a child. The smallest, no bigger than a rice cooker, is for extracting botanical essences.

I mention a New York distiller who created a flavor library of over 200 botanical extracts, including angelica seed and rare agarwood. “Oh,” he smiles. “Ramón!” Despite the continent between them, the two distillers know each other through online hobbyist groups. In this, they are typical. Hobbyists regularly turn to online forums such as Yahoo Distillers and Artisan Distiller for guidance. Like Frank and Bob, Ramón prefers a pseudonym, but because he works in the distilling industry, his concern goes deeper than their straightforward desire to avoid legal attention. While it’s not uncommon for craft distillers to have learned the basics of their trade at home, and even continue to refine it there, the majority who do so will not admit that on the record. Like them, Ramón assumes investors, concerned that federal liquor violations could ruin a licensed distillery, might jettison a partner or employee accused of illicit distilling. “If TTB keeps making it easier to open distilleries,” he muses, “then maybe the hobby side of the equation could finally become legal. I’d happily pay for a permit to make ten gallons or twenty each year for myself. I bet 90 percent of home distillers would do the same.”

While it’s true that several hundred American craft distilleries have opened in the last decade, the Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau (TTB) does not issue permits for home distilling for any price. Some states, though, allow noncommercial production to varying degrees. Alaska, for instance, excludes “private” manufacture of spirits from its alcohol control laws...except in quantities that exceed federal limits. In other words, Alaska allows zero liters for home distillers. Missouri is more explicit, asserting that “No person at least twenty-one years of age shall be required to obtain a license to manufacture intoxicating liquor...for personal or family use.” Such use in the Show Me State, it may be noted, is up to 200 gallons per year. Go, Missouri. Arizona expressly permits personal distilling of spirits such as brandy or whiskey if owners register their rigs with the state’s Department of Liquor Licenses and Control. According to DLLC, however, none has done so.

Mike McCaw, distillery consultant and publisher of Zymurgy Bob’s book, argues that as governments are forced to examine all spending, “We may, just may, be at a political inflection point where [legalizing home distilling] could happen...it is simply not cost effective to chase down people with ten gallon stills.” Bob himself is less sanguine. Speaking by phone on his book tour, he says that pursuing people with ten gallon stills “does make sense if they’re selling it and there is tax evasion going on. And that is one of the main points of the whole “do not sell” prohibition. There is no money and so no tax being evaded there.”

“I hope — I hope — that’s giving me a margin of safety.”

I hope so, too. Good luck, Bob.

Goes well with:

  • First things first. If you have legal questions about distilling in your country, state, or province, please get in touch with consultants and/or attorneys who know your local laws. The discussion forum of the American Distilling Institute is a good place to start. In the UK, check in with the Craft Distillers Alliance
  • The business about unregistered distilleries and distilling with intent to defraud leading to forfeiting  one's property in the United States is addressed 26 USC § 5615. The full text is here
  • Zymgurgy Bob's book, Making Fine Spirits, is available here. Mike McCaw, distillery consultant, still designer, and publisher of Bob's book, can be reached through The Amphora Society
  • Whisky Advocate magazine is here. An earlier piece I did on white whiskey — and what to do with it — for the magazine is here
  • Even the Ten Dollar Whore Sneered at Me, in which a New Orleans...ahm... independent contractor disapproves of me.

Monday, December 2, 2013

John Egerton (1935 -2013)

When news of John Egerton’s death came last week, I was moments away from meeting friends camped out on a Puerto Vallarta beach. I left the condo stunned, numbly descended a long and treacherous staircase the regulars dubbed The Exorcist Stairs and made my way to their group mere feet from the surf. Sitting under a palapa with a bucket of ice and beers with my toes in the sand should have been the start of a fantastic week. Instead, heartache spread from my chest, down my arms, and settled into my very bones. I was sick with sorrow.

What's in that glass, John Egerton? Tea? (Photo from the SFA's site)
John was co-founder of the Southern Foodways Alliance at the University of Mississippi and in the group’s early years I served with him on its board. John Egerton was good. He was kind. He was fiercely smart, deeply self-deprecating, and possessed of a burning sense of justice. When he wrote and spoke about the American South with such affection, he didn't shy from pointing out its flaws...and sometimes a way forward from its tangled and occasionally painful past.

Without John, there may not have been an SFA. If there had been no SFA, I might never have met people who became some of my great friends and favorite sidekicks. The might never have been a moonshine book which I wrote primarily at the insistence of author Ronni Lundy, another SFA co-founder. The ripples of Egerton's touch continue even today when I listen to music I know only because a friend from North Carolina stayed with us in July and relentlessly plied us with new tunes on Spotify. The friend? Dean McCord, VarmintBites on Twitter and a current SFA board member. Dozens of others have made my life better, people I know mostly through our connections to this singular gentleman.

Last summer, I wrote about his book Southern Food and included an anecdote about his power as a storyteller. I have so many fond memories of John Egerton, but this  — after a long bus ride and too much whiskey for everyone — is one of my favorites.
In the summer of 2004, I threw a small get-together in Birmingham, Alabama. I was on the board of the Southern Foodways Alliance then, a group dedicated, in a nutshell, to celebrating the food and drink of the changing American South and the people who made it. Maybe a hundred of us were there for a small conference. After two long bus rides that day, the group was beat, so I invited a handful to come up to my hotel suite for restorative drinks and food once they'd recovered from the sun, the bourbon, and the rides.
One of those was historian John Egerton. 
A few restaurateurs showed up. Several editors from papers, magazines, and broadcast news were there. Bartenders and writers rounded out the group. A half-dozen different conversations rose and fell until one voice—one kindly, avuncular voice—dominated the room: Egerton's. 
Egerton is a charmer with a ready smile and (almost) always a kind word to say. He so mesmerized this group of experts with his tales that they soon gathered around him in a loose semicircle on the floor and spilled onto beds and chairs, absorbing warmth from the Promethean fire of his insight and wisdom.
The hole he left is gut-wrenching, but John Egerton helped to bring together uncounted strangers and make them friends. I like to think he'd chalk that up as a win.

Friday, October 18, 2013

Distiller Wanted: Nevada

Whether you agree with the estimate of over 600 new distilleries either up and running or in the works from the American Distilling Institute or take the more conservative view from the Distilled Spirits Council of the United States (which puts the number a lot lower), there's no denying that the pace of American distilleries' growth is picking up. More are on the way and more state and local governments are cottoning to the notion that distilleries can be good for local economies.

Dramatic shot of the old flour mill for its 1978
National Register of Historic Places application 
Nevada is one of those places about to have a new distillery. Word has come that the San Francisco-based Bently Holdings will be converting an old mill — the Minden Flour Milling Company — into a new distillery called Nevada Heritage near Lake Tahoe. They'll need an experienced distiller.

Details to follow, but first a reminder: I have no connection to the distillery, Bently Holdings, or the Bently family. I am merely passing on the info, so please don't send me a resume or ask details about the job; I won't be able to help. Use the contact details in the link below; they're the ones to ping with questions about this job.

Now, then. Here's what the job announcement lays out. They're looking for someone with 5-10 years distilling or blending experience who holds a brewing and distilling MSc. certificate. Seems they'll want to make single malt whiskey, bourbon, absinthe, and gin. Furthermore,
The Master Distiller will be responsible for developing the Nevada Heritage collection, planning and executing distillation operations, overseeing production, and managing inventory. With support from Marketing and Sales teams, the Master Distiller will also showcase and advertise our spirits to raise brand awareness and build relationships with local and national media sources, all while complying with relevant federal, state and local regulations.
A more complete description of the post is here with directions for submitting an application.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Hulabilly Lemonade: The Fireflies Won't Be the Only Ones Getting Pleasantly Lit

Tiki Oasis is in full swing again. Regular readers know that for several years now, I've made a point of attending the four-day extravaganza of rum, beehive hairdos, Bettie Page lookalikes, surf tones, and tiki madness in San Diego. This year the theme is Hulabilly. Otto von Stroheim, the founder of TikiO, invited me to give a talk. So yesterday afternoon, we filled a ballroom, threw up some slides, hit the sauce, and delved into my field: illicit liquor. 

Over the next few weeks, I'll add some more stories from that talk, but I had so many requests for my boozy lemonade recipe yesterday that I realized I should put it up while the hulabilly hodown was in full swing.

Johnny Jeffery flew in from Wisconsin to join me for the talk since he was the distiller for one of the whiskeys we were tasting: Death's Door white whiskey. Jeffery is in the privileged position of sampling his white white right off the still. His recommendation for the rest of us who can't get it at quite such high proof? Try it in a margarita.

The Hulabilly Lemonade I made as a welcome drink for the crowd is a twist on an old-fashioned front porch lemonade…with two differences. The first is that I used two sugar syrups — one demerara and the other caramelized, which isn’t as sweet, but gives the drink a soft, almost praline note that complements the fresh lemon juice. The second is that I asked the volunteers helping out with the talk to pour in a whole bunch of whiskey.

Without the whiskey, the lemonade makes a good Arnold Palmer when mixed 1:1 with black iced tea. With whiskey, though, and cooling off on the porch some hot evening with a pitcher of this Hulabilly Lemonade and a few glasses…well, let’s just say that the fireflies won’t be the only one getting pleasantly lit.
Hulabilly Lemonade 
1.5 oz Death's Door White Whiskey
4 oz front porch lemonade (see below)
2 teaspoons caramel syrup (optional, see below) 
Mix whiskey, lemonade, and caramel syrup over ice. Garnish with mint if you're feeling extra fancy.

Front Porch Lemonade 5 parts lemon juice
5 parts water
3 parts Demerara simple syrup 
Stir until blended in a jar, pitcher, or gallon jug. 
A note on the caramel syrup: In my opinion, the caramel syrup really makes this shine, but it's not strictly necessary — you could leave it out entirely. It not just tastes good, though; it's a nod to old-school bootleggers who sometimes faked age in illicit spirits with caramel (a practice that hasn't died out). Author David Lebovitz has good notes on making caramel; if you've never made it, check them out before you begin. The way I make this cocktail syrup, it's a simple ratio: two parts sugar to one part water so that the final version — by volume — is 25% more than the original sugar volume. First, measure whatever quantity of plain white table sugar (12 ounces by volume is a handy amount for home use). Then measure half that of water (6 ounces in this example). Have it at the ready.

Slowly caramelize the dry sugar in a deep, heavy-bottomed pan (I use an unlined copper pot, but use what you've got). When it reaches a rich amber color, immediately (and carefully) pour in all the water. Be careful: it will spatter and steam. The whole mass will seize up in a hard candied blob. No worries. Turn the heat to low, stirring now and then, until the sugar dissolves. Some water will have evaporated as steam, so when the whole thing is liquid and cool, put it in a measuring cup and add just enough water to make the total volume 25% more than the original volume of sugar. In this example, 12 ounces (100%) plus 3 ounces (25%) = 15 ounces. Just top off with cool water until the total volume is 15 ounces. Easy peasy.

Goes well with:

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Chuck Cowdery on Non-Distiller Producer Whiskey

B&E:
Blended, not distilled,
by St. George Spirits
Non-distiller producer whiskey — NDP whiskey to those in the abbreviation-prone trade — has been around a long, long, time. Non-distiller producers buy bulk spirits and resell them under another label. It's a completely honorable business model. Regardless of the abuse that model sometimes suffers by resellers of rum, whiskey, and (notoriously) vodka, some very nice spirits are sold by people who do not operate the stills on which it was made. They may — or may not — blend, age, or flavor the bulk spirits. Regardless, they are not the distillers of that particular booze.

You may sometimes hear such spirits referred to as "found" whiskeys, as if some Kentucky distiller rounded a corner in an unused part of a rambling old rickhouse and ran smack dab into a forgotten lot of barrels just a'settin' there. It's a disingenuous term, "found" whiskey. NDP is clunky, but more accurate. The reason it is interesting from a consumer's point of view is that, in general, brands would rather not have buyers know that the distillery named on the bottle may not in fact exist. Whiskey writer Chuck Cowdery calls brands that go to great lengths to craft images of these fictional distilleries "Potemkin distilleries." It's a good term.

But how are consumers standing there in the liquor store to know which whiskeys are made by distillery on each label and which are not? In a blog post today, Cowdery proposes that genuine, actual, echt craft distillers develop common language that Potemkin distilleries cannot truthfully use...and then plaster it on everything. As an example, he cites copy from one of our favorite of America's newer distilleries, Balcones Distilling in Waco, Texas:
100% of Balcones whisky is mashed, fermented and distilled at our distillery. We never resell whisky from other distilleries or source aged whisky barrels for blending under the Balcones label. This is authentic craft whisky.
Language like that would go a long way to letting drinkers who actually makes their spirits. Read the rest of Cowdery's three-point proposal here.

Goes well with:

Saturday, April 27, 2013

Winners of The Drunken Botanist (with Five Recipes)

“Do you know of this?” my friend EJ emailed. 
“I just stumbled upon it and think I am going to pick one up.” 
The link in his note was for Amy Stewart’s new book 
The Drunken Botanist
Within seconds I typed back: 
“Buy it immediately.”

Last week, I heaped a bunch of plaudits on Amy Stewart's new book The Drunken Botanist. Her publisher, Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill, offered to send five copies of the cook to readers of the Whiskey Forge. Rather than simply send a copy to random commenters like those who flock to any and all online giveaways, I put a twist on the rules and stipulated that those who wanted to throw their hats in the ring must also provide recipe in the comments to qualify. To keep it, in other words, among us booze geeks. I want to read about, I wrote,
...your favorite alcoholic drink that relies on plants to give it some distinguishing character — a cocktail, a homemade cordial or bitters recipe, your grandmother's amaro or your college roommate's homemade absinthe. Whatever. But it's got to have booze, beer, or wine (nothing against tea, but tea hardly makes botanists drunk) and it's got to demonstrate some distinctive plant characteristic. What that means is up to you: I want to see what you've got.
The results are in. Thank you everyone who sent in recipes — I'm working all weekend, but my mind keeps coming back to the new drinks I want to make. Five comments (selected using The Randomizer) came up winners. Those five should email me (moonshinearchives at gmail dot com) with mailing addresses ASAP.

First up is Sam K with his recipe for the Pennsylvanian/Lithuanian specialty, Boilo:
Always served warm, it is a soothing companion on a cold winter's night.

4 oranges, peeled
2 lemons, peeled
1 cup honey
4 cups water
1 cup raisins
1/2 tsp cloves
1 Tbsp caraway seed
1 Tbsp anise seed
4 cinnamon sticks
2 750 ml bottles decent blended American whiskey (Four Queens if you can find it)

Take all ingredients except whiskey and bring to a slow simmer for about a half hour. I prefer to peel the citrus to avoid leaching the more bitter oils into the potion. Allow to cool slightly and strain. Add the blended whiskey just before serving.

This will keep for some time. The blended whiskey is the main traditional ingredient here, really, and though I've read that the cheaper it is, the better, that's crap. There really is a substantial difference between, say, Fleischmann's and Four Queens (which has a slightly higher percentage of actual whiskey and is bottled at 100 proof). I know...I've ruined en entire batch by using Fleischmann's.
I suppose you could do even better by using three parts vodka and one part bourbon, but the miners always called for blended, and who am I to argue with tradition? That, plus they'd kick my ass! Second, Nick in Chapel Hill gives his take on a jalapeno honey-spiced Brown Derby:
1.5 oz rye (Knob Creek rye)
1.5 oz of fresh grapefruit juice
.5 oz jalapeno honey (To make: combine 14 oz local NC honey with fresh sliced jalapenos (2) - lightly sauté to release oils. Combine seed and fruit into honey in mason jar; let sit for 5 days prior to use)
.25 oz simple syrup
Splash soda water (or more, depending on tolerance for spice!)

Add rye and honey. Stir to loosen. Add grapefruit. Shake. Serve with crushed ice in rocks glass OR in chilled champagne coupe. 
From the cane fields of south Louisiana, John Couchot contributes his Rum Rickey Gone Local. the flavors of US sugarcane, he writes, "truly shine in this combination."
1 shot Rhum Agricole
1/2 shot of Louisiana made small batch cane syrup
fresh squeezed lime juice
splash of soda
garnish with a lime twist
Sylvan presents a slight twist on Sam Ross' new classic, the Penicillin Cocktail. This is my variation on Sam Ross' wonderful 'cold Scotch toddy'. "I never have 'ginger-honey syrup,'" he writes, "so I usually make honey syrup to order (no need to let it cool) and muddle fresh ginger."
Fresh ginger
2 ounces blended scotch (typ. Famous Grouse or Ballantine)
3/4 ounce fresh lemon juice
3/4 ounce honey syrup (1:1 honey/water)
1/4 ounce smoky Scotch (such as Laphroaig)

Slice a few (to taste) 1/8" slices of ginger and muddle in a mixing glass. Add blended Scotch, lemon juice and syrup, fill with ice and shake well. Strain into an ice-filled rocks glass or a chilled cocktail glass and float Islay scotch on top.
Finally, Lucas chimes in from snowy Toronto with his Garden Caesar (that's a Bloody Mary with a dose of oyster liquor or clam juice to us Yanks). He eyeballs the proportions.
Homemade vodka infused with Persimmon Tomatoes (using ISI Whipper)
Tomato juice (boughten is fine)
Oyster liquor
dash or two celery bitters
Fresh grated horseradish from the garden.
a couple of drops of homemade chili oil.
Rim the glass with lime and serve with a plate of oysters.
Setting aside the ambiguity of whether the vodka itself is homemade or just the final infused product is, I like the way you think, Lucas. Not just that ambiguity and the plate of oysters, but the nitrous-charged tomato vodka. This is a technique that didn't start getting traction until the last year or so, although it's been known for several years. Lucas uses the technique laid out in the Cooking Issues blog, but explains further:
I do a rough dice with the tomato, making sure to add the juice to the whipper as well. Seal it up, pressurize with two cartridges, wait a minute, depressurize and strain. I like the persimmon tomatoes because they have tons of flavour and live about ten steps away from the bar.
Cheers! Remember, you five, to email me with a shipping address for your copy of The Drunken Botanist and I'll pass it on to the publisher.

For the rest of you, a lot more recipes (worthy entries, one and all) are here in the comments section. Although the giveaway is closed, feel free to chime in with your own, even if they involve frozen squid swizzle sticks (ahem, Greg).

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Medals Awarded for ADI's 2013 Annual Judging of Artisan American Spirits

The American Distilling Institute announced medal winners in Denver this evening for its 7th annual judging of artisan American spirits. As in years past, I was one of those judges (see last year's winners here). 140 distilleries submitted a total of 317 spirits. The tastings were blind — that is, judges did not know who made the spirits. Each glass in each flight was labeled simply A, B, C, et cetera. Only at the end of the second day of evaluations, when each panel of judges was allowed to view the bottles, did we learn who made what.

Rum expert Martin Cate was on hand.
Smart judges who had taken note of their favorite A, D, F, or whatever samples during the tasting took even more notes on those bottles when we were let into the pouring room — and set out to find those bottles when they returned home. Below, you'll see some of those favorites for yourself.

Judging instructions for these spirits (almost entirely from American distilleries) are slightly different from those of other competitions. Part of the purpose of the judging of these spirits is to encourage American craft distillers, some of whom are accomplished, some of whom are still learning the business. In addition to numeric scores, judges give each sample additional tasting notes, suggest improvements, note what they like about the spirit, and — when appropriate — identify particular flaws such as high fermentation temperatures or scorched tastes that come in part from improper filtration. Understanding some of those specific flaws can help distillers improve their spirits.

While individual spirits are assigned scores on a hundred-point scale, medals are not strictly awarded according to that score, nor was the highest-scoring spirit in each category made the gold. Scores between 80 and 89 do not automatically yield, for example, silver medals, nor are those that score from 70-79 awarded bronze. Rather, the rubric the four panels of judges used for awarding medals took into consideration additional questions:

Gold medal — Would you happily buy this spirit for yourself?
Silver medal — Would you give this spirit as a gift to a valued friend or loved one?
Bronze medal — Would you be happy getting this as a gift?

Some classes didn't have winners of every medal. Some had multiple bronze or silver medals. So let's get to it. Here they are — the spirits the judges wanted for our greedy selves, the ones we'd buy our moms, and those worthy bottles we'd like someone to drop on our desks now and then.

First, the BEST OF CLASS winners:

Whiskey
Ballast Point Spirits - Devil’s Share Malt Whiskey
Gin
Valentine Distilling Co. - Liberator Gin
Rum
Balcones Distilling - Texas Rum
Moonshine
Ole Smoky Tennessee Moonshine - Apple Pie Moonshine
Brandy
Jepson Vineyards - Old Stock Mendocino Brandy

Now on to the categories, as broken down by ADI staff:

WHISKEY
Clear Whiskey

Best of Category - Silver Medal
Myer Farm Distillers - White Dog Corn Whiskey
Silver Medal
Dark Horse Distillery - Long Shot White Whiskey
Bronze Medal
Middle West Spirits - OYO Rye Whiskey
High West Distillery - Silver Whiskey - Western Oat
Indian Creek Distillery - Elias Staley
Cornelius Pass Roadhouse Distillery - White Owl Whiskey
Asheville Distilling Co. – Troy and Sons Platinum Heirloom Moonshine

Aged Corn Whiskey
Best of Category - Silver Medal
Balcones Distilling - True Blue

Bourbon (under two years)
Best of Category - Gold Medal
Yellow Rose Distilling - Yellow Rose Outlaw Bourbon
Silver Medal
Kings County Distillery - Kings County Bourbon
Bronze Medal
Rock Town Distillery - Arkansas Young Bourbon Whiskey
Cacao Prieto - Bloody Butcher Bourbon Whiskey

Straight Bourbon
Best of Category - Gold Medal
Balcones Distilling – Fifth-Anniversary Texas Straight Bourbon
Silver Medal
Dallas Distilleries - Herman Marshall

Rye Whiskey
Best of Category - Gold Medal
Grand Traverse Distillery - Ole George Rye Whiskey
Silver Medal
Mountain Laurel Spirits - Dad's Hat Pennsylvania Rye Whiskey
Bronze Medal
Distillery 291 - Colorado Rye Whiskey
Catoctin Creek Distilling - Roundstone Rye Cask Proof

Malt Whiskey (under 2 years)
Best of Category - Gold medal
Balcones Distilling – Texas Single Malt
Gold Medal
Deerhammer Distilling Company - Down Time Single Malt Whiskey
Bronze Medal
Long Island Spirits - Pine Barrens Single Malt Whisky

Straight Malt Whiskey
Best of Category - Gold Medal
Ballast Point Brewing & Spirits - Devil's Share Straight Malt Whiskey
Silver Medal
New Holland Artisan Spirits- Zeppelin Bend Straight Malt

Wheat Whiskey
Best of Category - Gold Medal
Middle West Spirits - OYO Wheat Whiskey
Bronze Medal
American Craft Whiskey Distillery - Low Gap Whiskey Single Barrel No. 1
American Craft Whiskey Distillery - Low Gap California Whiskey

Whiskey non-typical
Best of Category - Silver Medal
Glacier Distilling Company - Wheatfish Whiskey
Silver Medal
Rogue Spirits - Dead Guy Whiskey

Smoked Whiskey
Best of Category - Silver Medal
Corsair Artisan - Wildfire
Silver Medal
Corsair Artisan – Salamander

Hopped Whiskey
Best of Category - Silver Medal
Corsair Artisan - Demeter
Silver Medal
Corsair Artisan - Falconer’s Flight
Bronze Medal
Corsair Artisan - Centennial
Corsair Artisan - Pacifica
Corsair Artisan - Titania
Corsair Artisan - Amarillo

Flavored Whiskey
Best of Category - Bronze Medal
Sons of Liberty Spirits Company - Seasonal - 2012 Winter Release

MERCHANT BOTTLED WHISKEY
Straight Bourbon

Best of Category - Silver Medal
Cacao Prieto Distillery - Widow Jane Bourbon Whiskey
Silver Medal
Tatoosh Distillery & Spirits - Tatoosh Bourbon

Bourbon (cask finished)
Best of Category - Bronze Medal
Hillrock Estate Distillery & Malthouse - Solera Aged Bourbon
Bronze Medal
Big Bottom Whiskey – Straight Bourbon Whiskey, Zinfandel Cask

Straight Rye Whiskey
Best of Category - Silver Medal
35 Maple Street - Masterson's 10-Year-Old Straight Rye Whiskey

Malt Whiskey
Best of Category - Bronze Medal
Virginia Distillery - Virginia Highland Malt Whisky

GIN
Classic Distilled Gin

Best of Category - Silver Medal
Rock Town Distillery - Brandon's Gin

Classic Rectified Gin
Best of Category - Gold Medal
Captive Spirits Distilling - Big Gin
Gold Medal
Bull Run Distilling - Aria Portland Dry Gin
Silver Medal
Veracity Spirits – Vivacity Native Gin

Contemporary Distilled Gin
Best of Category - Silver Medal
Myer Farm Distillers - Myer Farm Gin
Silver Medal
Dancing Pines Distillery - Gin
Dancing Tree Distillery - Gin
Treaty Oak Distilling - Waterloo Gin
Bronze Medal
Corsair Artisan - Steampunk
Maine Distilleries - Cold River Traditional Gin
StilltheOne Distillery - Jarhead Gin

Contemporary Rectified Gin
Best of Category - Gold Medal
Valentine Distilling Co. - Valentine Liberator Gin
Gold Medal
Maison De La Vie - Golden Moon Gin
Silver Medal
San Juan Island Distillery - Spy Hop Gin
Bronze Medal
Sweetgrass Farm Distillery - Back River Gin
Southern Artisan Spirits - Cardinal American Dry Gin
Spring 44 Distilling – Spring 44 Gin

Genever
Best of Category - Bronze Medal
Oregon Spirit Distillers - Merrylegs Genever Style Gin
Bronze Medal
Corsair Artisan - Genever

Navy Strength Gin
Best of Category - Silver Medal
Few Spirits - Standard Issue Gin

Old Tom Gin
Best of Category - Gold Medal
Ransom Spirits - Old Tom Gin
Silver Medal
Downslope Distilling - Ould Tom Gin
Bronze Medal
Corsair Artisan - Major Tom

Barrel-Aged Gin
Best of Category - Gold Medal
Corsair Artisan - Barrel Aged Gin
Silver Medal
Wood's High Mountain Distillery - Treeline Gin, Barrel Aged

RUM 
White Rum
Best of Category - Silver Medal
Cape Spirits - Wicked Dolphin Rum - Silver
Bronze Medal
Dancing Pines Distillery - Rum
Donner-Peltier Distillers - Rougaroux Sugarshine

Amber Rum
Best of Category - Silver Medal
Ballast Point Spirits – Barrel Aged Three Sheets Rum
Silver Medal
Montanya Distillers - Montanya Oro Rum
Van Brunt Stillhouse - Due North Rum

Dark Rum
Best of Category - Silver Medal
Real McCoy Spirits - The Real McCoy
Bronze Medal
Turkey Shore Distilleries - Old Ipswich Lab & Cask Reserve

Overproof Rum
Best of Category - Gold Medal
Balcones Distilling - Texas Rum
Gold Medal
New Holland Artisan Spirits- Freshwater Superior

Flavored Rum
Best of Category – Silver Medal
Dogfish Head – Brown Honey Rum

Spiced Rum
Best of Category - Silver Medal
Dancing Pines Distillery - Spice

Merchant Bottled Rum
Best of Category - Silver Medal
35 Maple Street - Kirk and Sweeney

MOONSHINE
Clear Moonshine

Best of Category - Gold Medal
Dark Corner Distillery - Moonshine Corn Whiskey
Silver Medal
King's County - Corn Whiskey
Bronze Medal
Deerhammer Distilling Company – Whitewater Whiskey

Aged Moonshine
Best of Category - Bronze Medal
Fog's End Distillery - Monterey Rye

Flavored Moonshine
Best of Category - Gold Medal
Ole Smoky Tennessee Moonshine - Moonshine Apple Pie
Silver Medal
Ole Smoky Tennessee Moonshine - Moonshine Blackberry
Bronze Medal
Pinchgut Hollow Distillery - Captain Mick
Pinchgut Hollow Distillery - Rise N Shine

BRANDY
Pear Eaux de Vie
Best of Category - Gold Medal
McMenamin's Edgefield Distillery - Pear Brandy
Bronze Medal
Peach Street Distillers - Jack and Jenny Pear Brandy
Harvest Spirits - Harvest Spirits Pear Brandy

Eaux de Vie
Best of Category - Silver Medal
Coppersea Distilling - Peach Eau de vie
Bronze Medal
Bellewood Distilling - Apple Brandy Eau de Vie

Applejack/Brandy
Best of Category - Silver Medal
Huber's Starlight Distillery - Huber's Applejack
Silver Medal
Tom’s Foolery - Applejack

Aged Brandy (Other than Grape)
Best of Category - Silver Medal
Peach Street Distillers - Pear Brandy

Aged Brandy - Other
Best of Category - Bronze Medal
Dakota Spirits Distiller - Bickering Brothers Neutral Brandy

Grappa
Best of Category - Gold Medal
Peach Street Distillers - Muscat Grappa
Gold Medal
Maison De La Vie - Golden Moon Colorado Grappa
Bronze Medal
Peach Street Distillers - Viognier Grappa
Magnanini Farm Winery - Magnanini Grappa

Brandy (Aged less than 6 years)
Best of Category - Gold Medal
Huber's Starlight Distillery - Huber's Brandy - Reserve
Bronze Medal
Colorado Gold Distillery - Colorado Gold Brandy

Brandy (Aged more than 6 years)
Best of Category - Gold Medal
Jaxon Keys Winery & Distillery - Old Stock Brandy
Silver Medal
Jaxon Keys Winery & Distillery - Signature Reserve Brandy
Jaxon Keys Winery & Distillery - Rare Brandy

Flavored Liqueur
Best of Category - Bronze Medal
Sidetrack Distillery - Nocino
Bronze Medal
Cacao Prieto – Chamomile Liqueur
Bottle Tree Beverage Company - Hoodoo Chicory

Fruit Infusion
Best of Category - Gold Medal
Huber's Starlight Distillery - Huber's Raspberry Infusion
Silver Medal
Huber's Starlight Distillery - Huber's Blueberry
Sidetrack Distillery – Cassis Liqueur
Bronze Medal
Stone Barn Brandy Works - Quince Liqueur

Excellence in Packaging
Craft Distilled Spirits
Sidetrack Distillery - Cassis Liqueur
Merchant Bottled Spirits
35 Maple Street - Kirk and Sweeney Rum

Monday, March 25, 2013

Tax Stamp Bourbons Tonight at Seven Grand

Late notice, I know, but tonight Seven Grand Whiskey Society in San Diego is hosting a guided tasting of tax stamp bourbons, each bottled more than three decades ago, from the private collection of Chris Uhde. The tasting will be at Seven Grand cocktail bar in North Park. If you're nearby and have an affection for whiskey, you should get in on the action. As remaining stocks of these bourbons are depleted, opportunities like this don't come around much any more. Seven Grand manager Brett Winfield writes that a mere 12 spots remain open for tonight's event.

Winfield explains:
I really couldn't be more excited that I get to offer this tasting to you guys in the Seven Grand Whiskey Society. Chris Uhde of JVS Imports has started a Southern California Whiskey Club focusing on rare and vintage whiskey which I am a part of and can attest to the bad assness of his tastings and whiskey collection. Chris recently contacted me and graciously offered up some of the Whiskey in his private collection for us to taste through. These are not your average whiskeys, each one of these Bourbons, with the exception of a few modern labels for comparison purposes, is a Tax Stamp Bourbon. Tax stamps were employed by the federal government as a way of proving that the taxes had been paid on a whiskey from the 1960's to the early 1980's. So the answer is yes, we will have the pleasure of tasting Bourbons from 1970 to the early 80's. "Holly sh*t" you say, that was my reaction as well. These are bottles that, unless you are very very very lucky you will never get a chance to taste or see again. I have tasted through them and they are truly special Bourbons.
The lineup for tonight's Tax Stamp Bourbon Tasting is:
  1. Ancient 6 yr 1977
  2. Yellowstone 1976
  3. Early Times Current release
  4. Early Times 1980s
  5. Old Crow 1970s
  6. Old Crow Current release
  7. Old Grand Dad 1977
  8. Old Grand Dad Current Release
  9. Old Taylor 1977
  10. Old Taylor 1980s
Winfield continues (and in all caps lets you know just how serious he is):
DUE TO THE RARITY OF THESE WHISKEYS THIS WILL BE A PAY TO ATTEND EVENT. THE COST WILL BE $50 PER PERSON, YOU MAY SIGN UP A GUEST BUT THEY MUST PAY THE $50 FEE AS WELL. IT IS OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE THAT IF YOU SIGN UP FOR THIS EVENT YOU MUST ATTEND, NO CANLELLATIONS!!! IF YOU FAIL TO COME CHRIS WILL LOSE HIS OWN MONEY AS THIS IS NOT A SPONSORED EVENT.

Details:
Monday, March 25th 2013, 8pm
Seven Grand
3054 University Ave
San Diego, CA 92104

Registration for the event is here.

Goes well with:

Sunday, February 24, 2013

The Wu of Maker's Mark

For what shall it profit a man 
if he shall gain the whole world, 
 and lose his own soul? 

 ~ Mark 8:36

Never mind whiskey aficionados; tongues on even vodka lovers were wagging earlier this month over a rare public relations stumble in Kentucky. Rob Samuels, COO of Maker's Mark, announced that the alcoholic strength of the company's signature bourbon was to be lowered from 90 proof to 84 proof.

The company had announced, quite literally, that it was watering down the product.

The ensuing uproar was immediate, vocal, and sustained. On Facebook, Twitter, and other social media, indignant fans deplored the decision and excoriated the firm. Bartenders who prefer overproof spirits that can stand up to the dilution of mixers and ice in cocktails bemoaned the new direction. Users howled indignation and pundits prognosticated the future of the brand (opinions ranged from “I’ll never buy Maker's again” to “In a year, who will even remember?”). It became a national story. Up in Vermont, WhistlePig vowed to increase the proof of its rye whiskey. I stayed mostly mum on the topic. Regardless of what others recalled next February, I would remember who did this.

I was struck immediately by the resonance of Samuels' announcement with Philip K. Dick's 1962 novel The Man in the High Castle. The book depicts a world in which Germany and Japan emerge victorious in World War II. Between them, they conquer and divide a disgraced former United States. I must have been ten when I read it first, but Dick's depiction of wu — a slippery concept applied to handcrafted jewelry in the book, but applicable to whiskey here — has stayed with me for more than thirty years.

It wasn’t indignation over the decision to dilute the whiskey or even anger, really, I felt. Rather, it was sadness. Another layer on our ever-thickening patina of loss. True, Americans have experienced great gains in recent decades in fields such as medicine, technology, and publishing. But we have suffered a concomitant erosion of our greatness. Heroes once idolized have been exposed as flawed — sometimes deeply flawed — humans; OJ Simpson, Lance Armstrong, Joe Paterno, John F. Kennedy, Michael Vick. Endless obstructionist caviling among our politicians have led many to despair that we will ever be better off than our parents.

Our entertainment has grown recursive; witness the remakes of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Arthur, The Karate Kid, or Gus Van Sant's scene-by-scene reshoot of Pyscho, movies that did not need to be remade, that arguably should not have been remade, that do not leave the world a better place in their passing. Our homes, by and large, are not built as well as those of a hundred years ago. On it goes. NASA's space program: gutted. New Orleans: flooded and nearly lost to us. The lunacy of creationism taught as fact to defenseless children who will be unable to compete for jobs as adults because they simply will not understand how the natural world works as well as their grandparents did.

Into this morass steps Maker's Mark with another assault on our faith in the goodness of humanity. And why? Why reduce the proof of this iconic whiskey? Profit. Global thirst for American whiskey has grown steadily in recent years and supply has not consistently kept pace with demand. Maker's in particular has experienced shortages, despite a 2012 expansion that increased production capacity by some 45%. Watering the whiskey was seen as a way to increase almost instantaneously the available inventory by 6%.

Deplorable things happen. Every day. Drove my Chevy to the levee and all that. But it's not all odious Kardashians, pedophile priests, and watered down whiskey. Not even close. There are good things as well. Whether it's the residuum of my midwest upbringing or a Catholic education that drives me to be what the Jesuits dubbed a man for others, I choose to spend time making and pursuing things that make the world better. As the California designer Mike Monteiro writes in Design in a Job, "[Y]ou are responsible for what you put into the world...and you can only stand as proud of the work as its benefit to society entitles you to." Amen, brother. Whether it's websites or whiskey, we shoulder a moral responsibility for what we bring into the world.

For the past twenty years or so, there's usually been a bottle of Maker's knocking around the house, but when Samuels made his initial announcement, my thought simply was to abandon the label quietly. No point in making a fuss. I'd never tasted the lower-proof version and the erosion of quality is arguable. We were assured the taste was nearly identical. That was beside the point. For decades, Maker's has presented itself using the language of heritage, tradition, and craftsmanship, a brand — a family — hitched to the yoke of history. Through it all, that squat bottle with its red wax top remained unchanged. The trope of Maker's as custodian to an unbroken legacy of quality suffuses marketing materials, bottle design, and even the grounds of the distillery itself which in 1980 was declared a National Historic Landmark. Your haircut, your president, and your wife may change, but Maker's would always be Maker's.

Until the day it wasn't, the day we were told it was to be cheapened for the masses. And that brings us back to Dick's novel. In The Man in the High Castle, Robert Childan, a dealer in historic Americana — Colt revolvers, Buffalo Bill's head in a jar, Civil War recruitment posters and the like — has presented a piece of modern American jewelry to Paul Kasoura, a wealthy young Japanese civilian newly stationed in occupied San Francisco. Kasoura secretly laughs at Childan for presuming to present such a piece, but soon develops an unexpected attraction to it.
"Here is a piece of metal which has been melted until it has become shapeless. It represents nothing. Nor does it have design, of any intentional sort. It is merely amorphous. One might say, it is mere content, deprived of form.”
 He goes on.
“Yet,” Paul said, “I have for several days now inspected it, and for no logical reason I feel a certain emotional fondness. Why is that? I may ask. I do not even now project into this blob, as in psychological German tests, my own psyche. I still see no shapes or forms. But it somehow partakes of Tao. You see?” He motioned Childan over. “It is balanced. The forces within this piece are stabilized. At rest. So to speak, this object has made its peace with the universe. It has separated from it and hence has managed to come to homeostasis.”
“It does not have wabi,” Paul said, “nor could it ever. But—” He touched the pin with his nail. “Robert, this object has wu.”
Wu, Dick tells us though Kasoura, is a quality that allows us to experience a tranquility associated with holy things. It is not necessarily apparent, even to its maker who may recognize only that the object satisfies, that it is complete. By contemplating such things, we gain wu ourselves. Kasoura is profoundly moved by it. With subtle discomfort, he informs Childan that an associate wishes to replicate the piece in plastic or base metal — tens of thousands of units — for sale to the poor and superstitious in Latin America and Asia. The deal, he confirms, would be worth a great deal of money. “What about wu?” Childan asks. “Will that remain in the pieces?”

Kasoura is silent, but we know the answer. It will not.

Childan could take one of two paths. One could make him immensely wealthy. The other is less clear. He seizes the decision to meet the exporter. Then, in a moment of clarity, he realizes the trap.
Whole affair a cruel dismissal of American efforts, taking place before his eyes. Cynicism, but God forbid, he had swallowed hook, line and sinker. Got me to agree, step by step, led me along the garden path to this conclusion: products of American hands good for nothing but to be models for junky good-luck charms.
Which path does Childan take? Read the book.

Maker's Mark, however, made the honorable choice. Chairman emeritus Bill Samuels, Jr. joined Rob Samuels in a conference call to confirm that fans' protestations were heard loud and clear. Geoffrey Kleinman relates their conversation here at DrinkSpirits.com and confirms that, after just a few days of online furore, the whisky will return at 90 proof.

Well, I'll be damned. Turns out there's room on my shelf for Maker's after all. And if, from time to time, it's not available, that's ok.

Goes well with:
  • Mike Monteiro's 2012 Design is a Job is ostensibly selling design for web designers, but it's a practical little manual for creative types of all stripes — and those of us who work with them.
  • We also disdain watered down bacon. Maynard Davies aims to show how bacon was done the old way
  • Don't know Dick? You may know more than you think. His stories have been made into movies such as Minority Report, Blade Runner, Total Recall, and A Scanner Darkly. Pick up a copy of The Man in the High Castle at your neighborhood bookstore or online here
  • Got a thing for Dick? You may also enjoy these Charles Bukowski postal stamps
  • David Toczko's 2012 book, The Ambassador of Bourbon: Maker's Mark and the Rebirth of America's Native Spirit, presents over 250 photos of the Maker's Mark distillery, including fermenting mash, barrels in the rickhouse, hand-dipping of the those red wax seals, and some archival material. Introduction by Bill Samuels, Jr. and foreword by Rob Samuels. Pick up a copy here

Thursday, February 14, 2013

An Old Distiller's Trick Revived in Oregon

In Hillsboro, Oregon, west of Portland, the Imbrie family erected a granary barn around 1855, a few years before Charles Darwin published The Origin of Species. With a handful of repairs here and there and a new concrete floor, it remains standing today. Inside, distiller Bart Hance makes whiskey and brandy on a still that's almost as old as the building itself.

Look closely: that's a metal can dangling in the middle.
The still is a French model, known in Cognac as an alambic Chartentais, typically used to make brandy and popular on the American west coast. This one was found in an old barn in France and shipped to Oregon where it stayed boxed for years before being installed in the granary. Other than a few brass fittings, the pot still is entirely copper and has a graceful, curving neck through which alcohol-rich vapor rises on its way to the condenser. At 160 gallons, it's not the biggest still one will find in the United States, but it is one of the more venerable. Unlike some modern stills, it has no sight glasses, no thermometers, no computerized reports indicating what's happening inside. On an old still like this, to know what's happening on the other side of the copper at any given moment, one must relies on sight, smell...and sound.

Sure, there's the sound of the gas fire. The intensity of that sound will indicate broadly how much heat is directed at the bottom of the pot. If the sound of the fire dies away unexpectedly, trouble — dangerous trouble — may be brewing. But attendees of a brandy distilling workshop sponsored by the American Distilling Institute learned from Hance to listen for another sound: the jarring clang of falling metal.

See, it takes a long time for wine or beer to heat up in the boiler of a pot still, especially if it's at the frosty room temperature of an old wooden barn. A distiller can't just sit there like a plate of biscuits waiting for the wash inside the pot to warm. There are forms to be completed, barrels to move, and a dozen other tasks involved in running a distillery. So, lacking readouts and internal thermometers common in some modern stills, Hance deploys an old French trick well-known to Cognac makers that allows him to do those other jobs while the still heats. He attaches a large, empty metal can to a string, then loosely wraps the string around the still's neck. With a dab of wax, the string stays in place.

And then the distiller walks away.

As the wash heats and vapor begins to rise, the copper (an excellent heat conductor) grows warm. Eventually, the neck grows warm enough to melt that dab of wax and — CLANG — the can drops and clatters onto the bricks below, sounds loud enough to be heard anywhere in the barn. That's the signal that Hance has perhaps ten minutes before liquids start trickling from the condenser and to wrap up whatever he's doing; there are cuts to be made.

Hats off, Hance; that right there is some old school merde.

Goes well with:

  • A visit to Cornelius Pass Roadhouse and Imbrie Hall. The former Imbrie homestead is now owned by McMenimins who were instrumental in getting the property listed on the National Register of Historical Places. The whiskeys, brandies, and other spirits made at Cornelius Pass and at the company's Edgefield distillery are not for sale in liquor stores, but are entirely for internal use at the various bars, hotels, and restaurants under the McMenamins banner. Imbrie Hall, however, offers a selection of bottles for take out.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

2013 American Artisan Spirits Judges Announced

Hubert Germain-Robin nosing brandy at Huber's Starlight Distillery
The American Distilling Institute has announced its panels of judges for the 7th annual judging of American artisan spirits next month. The lineup includes active and retired distillers, bartenders, authors, industry consultants, and a few journalist types such as yours truly who may (or may not) fit into one or more of the above categories.

The judges will analyze and critique hundreds of spirits over two days at Huber's Starlight Distillery where we'll break out into separate panels: one for brandy, one for rum, and one (or possibly more) for whiskey.

It is fun? Hell, yes. Is it all fun? No. The days start early and end late. No perfume, no cologne. No scented hand soap. No coffee (at least, not at the table and not if you don't want a big Rowley stinkeye). Though invariably some spirits are excellent and some are flawed, we remain stoic and sit almost entirely in silence. No grunts, no groans, and — as Gene Wilder's young Frankenstein would have it — no yummy sounds.

The judges are:


Will I tell you the results on my return to sunny Southern California? No, I will not. For that, you'll have to wait until they are announced at ADI's annual meeting in Denver (April 1-4, 2013). And then I'll pass it on.

Now, about that yummy sound...

Friday, January 25, 2013

XXX: St. George's 30th Anniversary Single Malt Whiskey

Just as 2012 was heaving its last gasp, I plunked a bottle of St. George Spirits' 30th anniversary single malt whiskey on my desk with every intention to crack it open on my return. See, at the time, I was due to be away for much of January. And so I was. But I picked up a wicked cold on the road. Sense of smell and taste completely rubbished, I avoided tasting new spirits and stuck with those I already knew (often in the form of hot, chest-warming drinks liberally dosed with rum or brandy).

I'm back at work now, but it's a pity I didn't get to the whiskey sooner. It's exquisite.

Like many American distilleries, St. George has been presenting spirits that push, pull, and tug at traditional categories. Take its dry rye gin, an unaged, pot-stilled 90-proof rye whiskey finished with juniper and other botanicals typical of gin.

Likewise, the 30th anniversary single malt brings in an unexpected dimension. Finishing whiskey in casks once used for Port or Madeira, for instance, is not unheard of but the distillery here has taken advantage of its inventory of barrels that previously held its pear eau de vie. The result is a lush, heady, distillate; once I pulled the cork, its aroma filled the office. The pear is there as well as the malt, but roasted orchard fruits come through with an overall spiciness that suggests ginger and toasted nuts. Sweet, but not cloying. Despite the high proof (47.3% abv), it's balanced, almost — but not quite — as much a joy to inhale as to drink. Brendan Gleeson's line from 28 Days Later rises to the surface of my mind; Takes out the fire but leaves in the warmth.

A long finish lingers, lulling me into a contemplative, almost glassy-eyed mood, making me wish I'd started a fire in the hearth before I'd poured some into the tumbler. There will be no mixing cocktails with this one. Instead, I pull my sweater a little closer in a big, comfortable chair, bury my nose in the glass, and stretch out the moment as long as I can.

The release is limited to 715 bottles, so it may take some sleuthing to track down one for yourself. And it's not cheap: retail will run you around $400 for a 750ml. How to get a bottle? St. George's website advises: "Because of the extraordinarily limited nature of this release, we have had to allocate bottles to select retailers in the markets we currently have distribution. Please contact your favorite local retailers to see if they have a bottle or two. Many bottles have already been snapped up, but we know where to find the ones that remain…If you need assistance scoring a bottle of your own, please contact our office at 510-769-1601."

Goes well with:

  • A Fistful of Pears, Bread & Gin's spaghetti Western-inspired take on a bittersweet cocktail using St. George's pear eux de vie and pear liqueur.
  • Ernie Button's Vanishing Single Malt Scotch, in which photographer Button turns an eye to his dirty tumblers for an unexpected discovery. 
  • A persistent rumor holds that when a Scotch distillery replaces an old still, a new one — completely reproduced down to every last ding and dent — takes its place so the new spirit is unchanged from the old. The chairman of the company that has made most of the stills in Scotland takes issue with that and sets the record straight.  


Thursday, January 17, 2013

Replacing that Worn Out Still — Every Ding and Dent?

Since the nineteenth century, the Forsyth family has made stills. By some estimates, they have fabricated nearly half of Scotland’s whisky stills. Their firm, Forsyths, specializes in larger distillery systems, but builds each model to order and has made some as small as 50 liters. I recently spoke with Richard Forsyth Sr., chairman of the company, about Forsyths’ presence in the North American market. Although their footprint in the US is modest, it covers some noteworthy distilleries, including Balcones Distilling, Distillery 209, Kings County Distillery, Philadelphia Distilling, and Woodford Reserve. Building stills, however, is not the firm’s bread and butter. Repairing them is.

Old copper stills wear out. Or is that a Dalek?
Most American distilleries were founded in the last decade and are simply too new to have to contend with worn-out stills. In Scotland, however, aging equipment is an ongoing concern. “Our main business,” reports Forsyth, “is replacement of worn stills. Distilleries can run 24/7 and run down pot stills quite quickly. We check the copper’s thicknesses on an annual basis in Scotland and home in on wear areas. We write reports and then sit down with each client to agree on a replacement program.” The traditional two-still process in Scotland is particularly hard on the equipment. A preliminary run on the first still produces low wines, a relatively low-alcohol liquid. These low wines are then run through a second still, often called a spirit still, which concentrates ethanol further yielding white dog or new make which, when aged, cut, and blended (or not), becomes the Scotch whisky we know.

The wear patterns on those stills are exactly opposite. Harsh low wines, explains Forsyth, corrode the upper parts of a still within 10-12 years, while the pot may last 30-40. On the second distillation, it’s the other way around. Low wines and feints corrode the boiler, but the spirits rising through the upper parts are much more refined, so upper parts like such as the Lyne arm and swan’s neck may last 30-40 years, but the pot only 10-12 years.

Rather than replacing the entire still — an expensive proposition — Forsyths craftsman cut away worn areas and replace them with new materials. Those apocryphal stories about Scotch distillers replacing old stills with brand new ones that exactly replicate every dump and dent so that distillers can faithfully reproduce whisky that is exactly the same every single time? Turns out that’s just a good story for gullible drinkers.

 “Replacing old stills down to the last ding, bump, and patch?” chuckled the chairman. “That’s not quite true; those old stills may have a dent or two. Rather than replace the entire still, we only replace the parts that require it. If we cut out a patch or replace a part, we will replicate angles and shapes religiously, so that the contours of the boiler or Lyne arm, for example, are exact duplicates. After all, if we built it, we still have the original plans. But every ding and bump? No, we don’t do that.”

So pour that in your glass and drink it.

Goes well with:

Friday, November 30, 2012

Whisky Advocate Runs Feature Story on White Whiskey by...Oh, Hey. Me.

You have to look at white whiskey 
on its own merits. 
If you judge it 
compared to aged whiskeys, 
it fails. 
Every time.

~ Darek Bell
Corsair Artisan Distillery

Shea Shawnson pours Double and Twisted light whiskey at Elixir
The current issue of Whisky Advocate magazine has a feature article on white whiskey by yours truly. [Edit 12/9/12: scroll down for a link to a PDF of the article.] White, light, unaged, minimally aged, and "raw" whiskeys are growing in popularity. Not everyone — including those who make it — agrees on what it is, so when editor Lew Bryson asked me to take a run at white whiskey, I made some phone calls, packed a sandwich, and hit the road to talk to distillers who make the stuff and drinkers who down it.
As grain spirits come off the still, in- dustry insiders call the heady, limpid distillate new make or white dog. Every whiskey distiller in the world makes it and almost all of it is destined for barrels. Some, though, trickles out to the public. Lately, distillers and consumers alike have taken to calling it white whiskey. Marketers trumpet it as a hot new thing. In truth, the wheel has been around longer. And fire, of course. But new make was old hat when Johnnie Walker took his first wobbly steps. 
What is novel is that until about 2005, few dreamt a market still existed for the stuff.
My travels brought me up the west coast of the United States. From tiny sheds up dirt roads to a distillery in an old Air Force hangar, I met with men and women making, selling, drinking, and mixing white whiskeys.
Bars and restaurants from New York to Seattle offer white whiskeys as a matter of course, even pride. White Manhattans and albino Old Fashioneds abound. If whiskey cocktails unblemished by oak are insufficiently exotic, trendy tipplers can ask for them “improved” 19th-century style with a few dashes of absinthe. 
Despite growing awareness and acceptance, the category is dogged by three recurrent questions. Two are worth addressing in passing: (1) Is white whiskey moonshine? and (2) Is it any good?
I tackle those in about 500 words, but the third question, the one people should be asking and which fills the bulk of the article, is what do we do with it? Pick up the Winter 2012 issue of Whisky Advocate for some of the answers — including arguments that the way many white whiskeys are made is completely wrong — or download a PDF of It's a Nice Day for a White Whiskey here.

Interviews, insight, and recipes from Thad Vogler of Bar Agricole and Shea Swanson of Elixir in San Francisco, Darek Bell of Corsair Artisan Distillery (and author of Alt Whiskeys), Jim Romdall of Vessel in Seattle, Ian and Devin Cain of American Craft Whiskey distillery, barber and distiller Salvatore Cimino, 13th generation master distiller Marko Karakasevic from Charbay, and, midwife to the modern tiki renaissance, Jeff "Beach Bum" Berry.

Here's a bonus recipe that didn't make the article from bartender Rhachel Shaw whom I ran into as a customer at rum bar Smuggler's Cove. Shaw pays tribute to Elizabeth Taylor (whom one can only presume guzzled staggering quantities of raw whiskey) with a drink named for the late movie star's perfume:
White Diamonds  
1.5 oz. Koval Chicago Rye
.75 oz. Cocci Americano
.5 oz. Maraschino
1 dash Bitterman's Grapefruit Bitters
 
Stir on ice. Strain. Garnish with grapefruit peel.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Ernie Button's Vanishing Single Malt Scotch

Put that back. You can't just take any crap. 
Now. Single malt, 16 year old, taut, full flavor, warmer, not aggressive. 
Peaty aftertaste.
Takes out the fire but leaves in the warmth.

~ Frank (Brendan Gleeson)
28 Days Later

Abelour 103
We've all cleaned glasses with residue of drinks in them, but Ernie Button realized that something other than dirty dishes — something beautiful — was happening under our very noses. While putting a glass that had held Scotch whisky in the dishwasher, Button noticed a film of residue with fine, lacy lines on the bottom. Closer examination led to a photography project, Vanishing Spirits – The Dried Remains of Single Malt Scotch.
What I found through some experimentation is that these patterns and images that you see can be created with the small amount of Single-Malt Scotch left in a glass after most of it has been consumed. The alcohol dries and leaves the sediment in various patterns. It’s a little like snowflakes in that every time the Scotch dries, the glass yields different patterns and results. I have used different color lights to add ‘life’ to the bottom of the glass, creating the illusion of landscape, terrestrial or extraterrestrial. Some of the images reference the celestial, as if the image was taken of space; something that the Hubble telescope may have taken or an image taken from space looking down on Earth. The circular image references a drinking glass, typically circular, and what the consumer might see if they were to look at the bottom of the glass after the scotch has dried. A technical note about this project. The images were titled with the specific Scotch that the rings were created with. The number is a 3 digit number that has nothing to do with the age of the scotch. Merely a number to help differentiate between images.
To my eye, Button's vanishing single malt images look as much like photos taken from celestial telescopes or by undersea Arctic explorers than they do photos of something so warm, comforting and homey as single malt Scotch. A link to the project in his portfolio is  below.
glenlivet-137

Balvenie 125
Specimen - Glenfiddich 15
Macallan 103
Dalwhinnie 122




Goes well with: 

  • Photographer Ernie Button's seriesVanishing Spirits – The Dried Remains of Single Malt Scotch.
  • The Purpose of Good Liquor, in which I ship out a bunch of nice Scotch for no other reason than it would make someone happy.