Open Bottle: Yamazaki 18 Year Single Malt Mizunara Cask

In today’s edition of things you’ll never get to taste: Yamazaki 50 Year Old!

            On Friday August 17th 2018 a bottle of 1st edition Yamazaki 50 Year Old, one of only 50 bottles to exist, sold at auction for $312, 519.87. This is now the most expensive bottle of Japanese whisky ever sold at auction, beating the previous record set a mere three months earlier with the sale of bottle of 52-year old Karuizawa and blowing the previous record for Yamazaki set in 2016 out of the water.

But none of these can touch the record for most expensive bottle ever sold at auction, also set in May of 2018, for a bottle of MaCallan 60 Year old. The malt was distilled in 1926, bottled in 1986, featured a label created by Valerio Adami, is one of only 12 bottles in existence, and sold for $1.1 million USD.

Thirsty yet? Wish you could taste what must be the Elixir of Youth? Well, you can’t so lets talk about something absurd that you still might be able to put in your mouth: The Yamazaki Mizunara Cask.

To many drinkers and collectors Yamazaki is the quintessential Japanese whiskey. You can read more about their specific history, here, here, and here. Yet something that’s even more quintessentially Japanese than Yamazaki, kaiju, and anime is mizunara wood.

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Quercus mongolica

Scientifically known as Quercus mongolica, this is a species of oak native to Japan, central and northern China, Korea, eastern Mongolia, and eastern Siberia. The infancy of the Japanese whiskey industry butted up against the outbreak of World War 2 and while imports of European and American oak barrels for aging were drying up whisky consumption was on the rise and became the main drink consumed by the Japanese army. Barrels were needed so the distillers turned to their native oak.

Up until then mizunara had been used primarily in the manufacturing high end furniture and when transferring to whisky making the distillers ran into a few problems. First up, it takes a good 200 years for a mizunara oak to fully mature for a good cask, and it doesn’t grow straight, making it difficult to form proper staves. On top of that, Japanese oak has a higher moisture content than it’s cousins making it more difficult to work with. It’s also more porous meaning the casks are more susceptible to leaking.

Despite all these setbacks it turns out what mizunara really needs to shine is the thing that it’s hardest to give: time. The true flavors of mizunara really start to shine after prolonged ageing. This has lead to it being an essential player in the blended/pure malts that Japanese producers are so found of but also rocketed it into the stratosphere of some of the most sought after style of aged Japanese whisky in the world.

As the world of rare whisky comes to mirror more and more the world of fine art and bottles are becoming collectors pieces to be admired but never enjoyed it’s worthwhile to be reminded that the true joy of a dram is in the drinking and the sharing.

Due to the maturation time needed and the problems of working with the wood itself there aren’t many whiskies that are fully aged in exclusively mizunara but the allure and price tag of whiskies aged in mizunara have led to multiple producers releasing mizunara seasoned releases that carry the name but not the refinement that is so readily apparent in the older Yamazaki releases.

Take for instance their 2017 Yamazaki Mizunara release. The 2017 release is an 18 year old single malt aged exclusively in mizunara oak. Their Chief Blender, Shinji Fukuyo, tasted through hundreds of mizunara aged whiskies and put together this malt that may legally only be only 18 years but is stated to contain at least a small portion of 50 year old malt. Bottled at 96 proof and with a price tag slightly north of $1000 this is certainly not an everyday whisky- but can it clue us into the hype and auction fees of its unobtainable brethren?

NOSE: The nose is rich, fragrant and has a touch of sandal wood and greenery. An undertone of fresh baking spice is also present. The mizunara is already making itself known.

PALATE: A silky texture, with dry red fruit, coconut, citrus marmalade, a sweetness of caramel and a rich texture that is reminiscent of condensed milk with out the heavy feeling.

FINISH: It ends with a decisive spiciness, it’s reminiscent of Japanese incense, the lighter wood notes from the nose return and linger with the baking spice as you exhale.

This is a truly elegant pour of whisky. It is a prime example of how much patience is needed to truly coax the beauty of the mizunara out of the cask and into the glass. When I drink this I understand why Suntory is scouring Japan for old mizunara furniture to turn into more barrels.

I’ll probably never know how this stacks up to the most expensive Japanese whisky ever sold but it will always have something more noteworthy about it than that auction bottle ever will: I can actually drink it. As the world of rare whisky comes to mirror more and more the world of fine art and bottles are becoming collectors pieces to be admired but never enjoyed it’s worthwhile to be reminded that the true joy of a dram is in the drinking and the sharing.

This bottle is by no means commonplace and the price is nothing to scoff at but I can think of at least four places around Los Angeles where this is a bottle that can transport your evening and remind you that patience is sometimes its own reward.

And if you ask nicely I might even tell you where those places are before I drink it all myself.

Whiskey Wednesday: Early Times Proof of Concept

I’ve talked about it before but I’m really into traveling. Travel opens our eyes to new things, it also shines a new light on the familiar and common place. While most people filter this experience through art or culture being a bartender and a boozehound I end up seeing it through the glass at the bottom of a bottle.

Proof is often erroneously conflated with quality

Spirits nerds, especially us whiskey focused ones, love to talk about “the rules.” Your spirit can’t be a Scotch if it isn’t made in Scotland, your spirit can’t be whiskey unless it’s made from some type of grain, your corn whiskey can’t be Bourbon unless it uses a brand new, freshly charred barrel, etc., etc,. We love these rules because they help us clearly delineate the teams and offer an offer a definitive right vs. wrong answer in any debate.

These rules also offer consumer protection. Ever wonder why most spirits in the US are bottled at 80 proof (40% ABV)? It’s because that’s the legal minimum. In the EU that minimum is 37.5% so you will see products, even ones that are traditionally 40%, packaged at the lower threshold. Why? The answer as it so often is, is taxes.

Proof is often erroneously conflated with quality. While the higher the alcohol content the more intense the intrinsic flavors of the sprit will be this is not the sole indicator of quality. If it was Everclear would be the number one premium spirit in the world. But it is true that spirits used to be sold at much higher alcohol content. The old standard of “proof” used to be if gunpowder soaked in the spirit would still light on fire. This ensured that rum rations on ships wouldn’t interfere with the firing of it’s canons but also that the spirit hadn’t been watered down. This proof point is 57%.

All of these taxes, traditions, and experiences coalesced over the years until it was finally turned into law with the double whammy of the Bottled in Bond Act of 1897 and the Safe Food and Drug Act of 1906

57% being proof is slightly intellectually irritating though so for ease of use in the US the scale was reduced to 50%=100 proof for easier conversions for, you guessed it, tax purposes. And before you could simply buy a prepackaged bottle of booze from the store you used to take an empty bottle to the store and fill it up directly from the barrel. Diluting the spirit to 40% again made the math easier. A 26oz bottle filled with 40% alcohol will always contain 10oz of alcohol so you always know exactly how much to pay in taxes. But why settle on 40% instead of 50%? That’s the ABV strength where ethanol mixed with water lights on fire at room temperature.

All of these taxes, traditions, and experiences coalesced over the years until it was finally turned into law with the double whammy of the Bottled in Bond Act of 1897 and the Safe Food and Drug Act of 1906 which finally legally defined all of the nefarious white lightning, applejack, and whiskies floating around the American country side. And while this does a wonderful job of maintain a threshold of quality, and safety, it ends up excluding flavors and drinking traditions that fall outside these norms.

For instance, The EU ended up with a lower proof point to respect many of the Eastern European vodka makers, and it should be noted that most international councils, like Scotch and Cognac, have their own rules and minimums that have to be met. And in one of my favorite anecdotes Elmer T. Lee, one of the Father’s of Modern Bourbon, supposedly only drank his Bourbon at 60 proof because he felt that was the perfect point where the alcohol burn didn’t get in the way of the flavor. The guy knew a few things so lets take a look at something that falls outside of almost all of these rules.

On a recent trip to the Cook Islands (look it up) in the second Duty Free store in an airport with only two gates I came across this bottle of Early Times. Now Duty Free is often a testing grounds for new products, premium bottlings, and a place to dump large amounts of product that aren’t moving.

Despite what the label says this bottle of Early Times is not a Bourbon, at least not in the United States. And this is where confusion comes in, does it follow the rest of the Bourbon laws? I have no idea so let’s assume it’s produced exactly the way regular Early Times is.

Regular Early Times is also not a Bourbon. It is produced in Kentucky by the Brown-Forman Corporation at the same distillery that produces Old Forester, which is a Bourbon. What separates the two is the barrel. Early Times is aged in reused Bourbon barrels so already it’s legally “just” a whiskey. But it’s packaged below the EU threshold of spirits at 37.1%, which means that this bottle isn’t even legally a whiskey. For the sake of novelty and the equivalent of nine American dollars I brought this bad boy across the ocean, through customs, and back home to the United States.

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The reused barrels effect on the whiskey is immediately obvious as it’s color is lighter, more straw and hay than a full aged Bourbon that has those deep dark barrel influences.

On the nose there are all of those traditional whiskey aromas: vanilla, caramel, and a touch of stone fruit but they’re less intense due to the barrel. The spirits corn base is readily apparent even on the nose.

On the palette is sweet corn, a hint of spice, a touch of caramel, and not much else. It meats the flavor points of whiskey.

The finish is short but inoffensive. This isn’t terrible whiskey, but it is exactly the kind of whiskey an Old Fashioned cocktail was designed to enhance. Though it this case it would require a delicate touch because everything about this is so light that it would be easy to overwhelm the spirit with just a hair heavy dash of bitters.

I picked this bottle up because the proof point was amusing to me but in the end do those 2.9% points really make a difference? Yes, but there’s so much else going on with Early Times that they’re not going to make or break this spirit. It is putting in the minimum effort.

Ultimately, that’s why people look down on these bare minimum bottlings. It doesn’t feel special. They’re offering an experience that is just meeting a requirement. But sometimes all it takes is crossing an ocean for a requirement to transform into an unique, glass bottomed lens and let you see things in a new light.

Whiskey Wednesday: Overholt’s Bond

Bottled in Bond has jumped the shark. Before what’s sure to be Jack Daniel’s latest premium priced bottled in bond hits Duty Free shelves worldwide let’s look back to a much more innocent time when a BiB release truly excited me. A time known as six months ago…

Before we jump in the Short Way Back Machine what exactly does Bottled-In-Bond mean? Well, here’s a link to a video of some fools talking about it, but here’s a quick refresher. The Bottled in Bond Act of 1897 was spearheaded by a group of distillers, lead by Col. E.H. Taylor, to instate a form of quality control on products calling themselves whiskey, as well as to give consumers the confidence that whiskey sold in this new contraption known as a mass produced glass bottle was reliable and un-tampered with.

Working with the U.S. Government they came up with a list of regulations to be labeled as Bottled-In Bond.

  • The spirit must meet all the legal requirements for that spirit.
  • It must be the product of a single distillery in a single distilling season.
  • It must be aged for a minimum of 4 years in a government bonded warehouse.
  • It must be bottled at 100 Proof
  • Every bottle must list the DSP (the distillery identification number) for both the location of distillation and location of bottling.

Follow all these rules and you get a tax break and US government slaps its seal of approval on the bottle in the form of a tax stamp to show that the liquid has not been tampered with after it was bottled.

The bonded warehouse is an interesting thing to note. In the olden days this meant that the warehouse was physically locked and could only be accessed by a tax assessor (see the above tax breaks, to ensure that there was no “unauthorized removal.” This Tax Man had the keys to the warehouse and it could only be opened with their help, which is how we end up with such delightful stories as that of Old Fitzgerald.

Bottled in Bond began to thrive. It was a mark of quality, and a mark of the distiller’s skill. However, after prohibition when stocks and profits were low distillers looked for ways to stretch out the remaining supply and to reduce costs. See: blended whiskey and applejack. The required aging and proof of bottled in bond raised the quality but also the price, and being unable to blend across distilling seasons meant there was less ability to utilize backstock. Brands that were once proudly Bottled-in-Bond began reducing proof and age and slowly disappeared. Most of those that survived have been consolidated under the ownership of Heaven Hill but also lost their premium status and became your “Granddad’s Whiskey” which despite what the current whiskey boom will tell you used to be an incredibly uncool thing to say.

On the flip side, the current whiskey and cocktail boom has reinvigorated interest in Bottled In Bond as a mark of quality and in mixing. This has lead to a rash of reintroduction of Bottled In Bond products but often at a steep mark up, which I believe misses the point and utility of Bottled In Bond. They’re meant to be versatile and approachable. One of the rereleases that got this right was Old Overholt.

Old Overholt is owned by Beam Suntory, which is the parent company of the largest Bourbon producer in the world, Jim Beam. And while Overholt is truly an old brand it doesn’t usually stand out for me.

It’s a barely legal rye, meaning it’s 51% rye in the mashbill, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Rittenhouse Rye is also barely legal and is a bottle I can’t live without. But bottled at 80 proof I’ve often found the Overholt to be oily and incredibly earthy. However, this past January Beam Suntory added a Bottled In Bond version of the Overholt, so lets see how it stacks up.

On the nose it smells definitively like a Jim Beam product. I associate this smell with the Jim Beam yeast strains. There is a woodsy, yeasty, nutty quality that carries through almost everything in the Jim Beam lineup. There is also an oakiness and dark wood scent that lingers.

On the palette the oiliness is still very much present, but it’s cut through with a heavy alcohol burn that dries out a vanilla and caramel while complimenting the rye natural spiciness. The finish is surprisingly short, leaving an alcohol tingle and a touch of green apple.

This new Overholt is a vast improvement over the old Overholt. However, this new bottle is undeniably a whiskey drinker’s whiskey. It is mean and uncompromising and honestly tastes a lot like what I would get if I blended the 80 proof Overholt with a bottle of Rittenhouse. Its price point makes it incredibly versatile as well. The new proof boost lets it stand up in cocktails while offering a flavor profile the is unique enough to justify including it on the back bar. Bottled in Bond is clearly becoming a hip term and producing a bonded version of a known branded may help boost sales, but that boost doesn’t mean it has to come with an inflated price tag or loss of character.

Just remember, not every reboot is terrible. And while something may jump the shark it doesn’t negate the quality of everything that came before the leap.