Bonded Blog

Hancock’s President’s Reserve Single Barrel

I often say that I like surprises, but that’s not really true. What I actually like is discovering new things. It’s safe to say I know a bit about whiskey. Yet I constantly find myself surprised and excited by things that I don’t know. And it is rarely the massive, specialty releases that catch me off guard. It’s the little guys that usually make me sit up and notice. Maybe it’s because they’re unexpected, or maybe it’s just a touch of arrogance. If I haven’t heard of it, who knows what it could be?

It happened just the other week. I got a call letting me know that if I moved fast I might be able to get a case of Hancock’s President’s Reserve. Before that call I might have vaguely recognized the name but couldn’t have told you anything else. So immediately I was intrigued.

The whiskey seems to be named for Hancock Lee, one of the cofounder of Leesburg, Kentucky. But information on Hancock is relatively scarce and the same goes for his namesake whiskey, which is odd in an age where debating the minutia of even the most esoteric of hobbies has become a pastime of it’s own. But what is known is that it’s made by Buffalo Trace using mashbill #2. This put it firmly in the Elmer T. Lee, Blanton’s and Rock Hill Farm family which despite how well known its siblings are the fact that they are related could be part of the reason for it’s obscurity.

When Sazerac purchased what is now known as the Buffalo Trace distillery in 1992 the distillery was already under contract producing whiskey for Age International, a contract that continues to this day. The relationship is complicated but essentially boils down to the fact that Age International owns the labels, and by extension rights to the mashbill, for Blanton’s, Elmer and Rock Hill Farms while Buffalo Trace distills the whiskey and distributes in the Unites States. And the Hancock is no different. So without full control of the label, the success and demand for its sibling single barrel bourbons could be the reason Buffalo Trace doesn’t have much information available.

Incidentally, this arrangement between Buffalo Trace and Age International is why there are two different Buffalo Trace mashbills. Mashbill #2 for the preexisting contracts and mashbill #1 for all their proprietary bourbons and while they don’t publicly disclose the recipes for either they’re pretty similar in the end with mashbill #1 being lighter on the rye.

The liquid itself sits between the taste profile of the Elmer and the Rock Hill Farm. It is lighter in body, and much more mellow at 88.6 proof. There is a nuttiness on the nose that is somewhat overwhelmed by the sweetness of the body with an abundance of vanilla, cinnamon, and oak giving why to a dry, tannic finish. In the end this reminded me more of the now discontinued Ancient Age 10 Year than any of its single barrel counterparts. As it stands there really isn’t anything that differentiates in from the other mashbill #2 single barrels. I’d personally grab it over Blanton’s but with the apparent effort needed to track down a few bottles I’d much rather put in the time grabbing a bottle of Elmer or Rock Hill Farm.

This bottle was a surprise but it doesn’t seem that its scarcity is due to some amazing liquid in the bottle, but rather simple lack of information and knowledge of the brand and with its pricing it certainly isn’t poised to take over the cult following that the Ancient 10 left behind. Then again, it did just win a silver medal at the 2016 San Francisco World Spirits Awards so maybe there’s another surprise around the corner.

History Along the Knob Creek 2001

History is tricky. It’s written by the winners and often overly romanticized by the survivors as they remember the good and forget the bad in the harsh light of present difficulties. And when you throw alcohol into the mix things can get even murkier. Take the modern obsession with all things Pre-Prohibition. From the style of the bar, to the bartenders uniforms, to the whiskey being poured, at every step of the road the booze industry is proud to be returning things to their turn of the century glory.

Yet, despite the romance of Prohibition speakeasies and Pre-Prohibition style and quality, that “style” and “quality” was all over the map. The quality issue was first addressed with the Bottled In Bond Act of 1897, but even though the term “Bourbon” being used as early as the 1820’s, what made a whiskey a “Bourbon” wasn’t truly codified into law until the Bourbon Act of 1964. So what they hell does “Pre-Prohibition style” even mean? Unregulated? Undefined?

While this elusive style might not mean anything on its own it can serve as inspiration. And if anyone should have an idea of what Pre-Prohibition whiskey tasted like Booker Noe would have been the one. The grandson of Jim Beam and the Master distiller at his grandfather’s distillery since the 60’s, Booker’s pre-Prohibition inspired bourbon, Knob Creek, rolled out in 1992.

log-cabin-KC.gifNamed after the stream that ran along Abraham Lincoln’s childhood home in Kentucky, the bottle was modeled after turn of the century apothecary bottles with the label inspired by the tradition of wrapping bottles in newspaper at the distillery. Knob Creek was originally an age stated 9 Year Old bourbon bottled at 100 proof. The age statement has been dropped in the past few years but the brand still claims extra aging compared to the companies other small batch whiskies. So in this case pre-Prohibition style would seem to mean longer aged and higher proof, which is almost the exact opposite of what those early whiskies would have been.

Knob Creek was one of Booker’s babies. He continued to oversee the brand until he continued another family tradition and handed the title of Master Distiller and production of the brand over to his son Fred Noe in 2001. Which is how we ended up with the aptly named Knob Creek 2001 Limited Edition.

The Knob Creek 2001 was made from some of the last barrels ever laid down by Booker and then finished by Fred. It’s a passing of the torch in bottle form. And this excited the Bourbon nerds, understandably so. The other bottling to come out of the last of Booker’s barrels was last years Booker’s Rye, which turned a lot of heads and was named Jim Murray’s Whiskey of the Year. Those are some big shoes to fill.

images.jpgWhat set the Booker’s Rye apart was the age and a unique mashbill. The Knob Creek 2001 certainly has the age, at 14 years old it clocks in a good five years older than the old 9 year, but there’s no variation on the mashbill, simply different batches. This leaves a through line connecting it to the standard issue Knob Creek because no matter what batch you pick up all of these bottles are unmistakably Knob Creek: powerful, with pistachio, walnut, sweet oak and that unmistakable Jim Beam yeast.

As for the differences, Batch #1 dials up the vanilla, caramel, and maple leaving the middle of the palette sweeter with the barrel and age showing up again on the finish. Batch #3 goes the opposite way with massive, dry tannin, heavy oak, and extremely dry mouthfeel. Batch #2 walks the line between the other two rather well.

In the end this is just bigger, larger, and older Knob Creek. That’s not necessarily my cup of tea but as a changing of the guard it makes sense. Booker was a larger than life figure in the Bourbon world and his impact on the modern industry is arguable as big as his grandfather Jim’s. To me whiskey is bottled time, bottled history. And this bottle is a touch of liquid history. Only time will tell how big a piece of history it really is.

A Balvenie Burns Night

Welcome to Burns Night. The annual celebration of the life and death of Robert Burns, the National Bard of Scotland and has an almost cult like following as a cultural folk hero. Not a bad legacy for a man born a poor Scottish farmer and who only lived to the age of 37.

Burns was born in 1759 and wrote his first poem after falling in love at the age of 15. He and I imgres-1.jpghave that in common. But unlike myself Burns pursued poetry, and love, with uncommon zeal. The first collection of his poems was published by subscription in 1786. While writing most of these poems in 1785 he also fathered the first of his 14 children. He was a busy man. As his biographer DeLancey Ferguson said of him, “it was not so much that he was conspicuously sinful as that he sinned conspicuously.”

Burns was immediately lauded through out England and Scotland as a “peasant-poet” and he took that success and used it to celebrate and preserve Scottish culture. Most of his poems are all written in Scots and document traditional Scottish culture. He also preserved folk songs. You can blame ol’ Rabbie Burns for why you know the words to “Auld Lange Syne” even if you don’t know the meaning. The song, which is about remembering friends from the past and not letting those times be forgotten actually has nothing to do with the holidays but is a perfect example Burns’ work. He celebrated life, love, friendship and drink all with humor and sympathy. His legacy is writ all over Scottish culture. Bobby Burns is as distinctly Scottish as the countries whisky.

mMcg5wXN6S-SFgDpBbkWkRQ.jpg            Ninety years later, on the opposite side of Scotland, another farmer was setting out to form his own legacy in a distinctly Scottish way: by quitting his job. William Grant had just quit his job as a bookkeeper at the Mortlach Distillery and purchased the land and equipment to start his own distillery. On Christmas day in 1887 the first whisky flowed from the still of the Glenfiddich distillery. Glenfiddich essentially created the Single Malt category in the 60’s and 70’s, often using ads that created a cult of personality of around the whisky and that of Sandy Grant Gordon, William’s great grandson. The company has always been incredibly savvy and it’s no wonder that they are the number one selling single malt in the world.

But when you are that large its hard to say that you truly have a cult following. That status today falls to Glenfiddich’s younger distillery sibling, Balvenie. Founded by William Grant a mere five years after Glenfiddich, Balvenie has always been the more experimental of the children. Balvenie is still 100% traditionally floor malted, and just like Glenfiddich they still have a Coppersmith and Coopers on site on site to keep the whole process in house. But I know people who would never touch a bottle of Glenfiddich perk right up at the mere mention of Balvenie, especially if we’re talking about the 14 year old Caribbean Cask.

The Caribbean Cask is a 14 year old single malt that has been aged in traditional oak casks, primarily ex-Bourbon, and then finished in casks that once held Caribbean Rum. These rum casks are American Oak casks that have been filled with a blend of West Indian Rums crafted by Malt Master David Stewart. Once Stewart deems the casks to be correctly seasoned the rum is dumped and the 14 year old malt whisky is added to receive its finishing touches. How long exactly is a “finish’? Well, until it’s finished, but generally about 6 months.

The result is a whisky that is massively vanilla and oaky with an evolving fruitiness and just an edge of the hobo funk that you find in truly great rums. It is flavorful without being overpowering and adds a sweetness that livens up that heavy malt that turns many people off of Scotch whisky. This whisky feels right at home in that ultimate of Burns Night celebrations: the Burns Supper.

Burns Suppers range from strenuously formal gatherings of esthetes and scholars to uproariously informal rave-ups of drunkards and louts. I’ll give you one guess as to which category I fall into. Most end up right in the middle and will follow the time honored form which includes the eating of a traditional Scottish meal, the drinking of Scotch whisky, the Toast to the Lassies, the responding Toast to the Laddies, and the recitation of works by, about, and in the spirit of the Burns.

Tonight I will be providing you with the whisky, but my brother will be providing you with the poetry. I don’t know if he wrote his first poem after a lovelorn night at the tender age of 15, but he certainly pens a verse worthy of raising a glass:

For Wintergreen Gorge

Once, illegally, on a train track bridge,

We sat with a handle a whiskey and three

Water bottles a gin, and I watched a gall midge

Land on your cheek and watched you brush it free

with your hand. Now what’s the use in holding

When we can sip and we can sit with our

Laughter and the iron and the wood to

Water sinking? Your hands get lost in folding,

Smoothing, and re-creasing the small flower

On the hem of your dress, and then you lower

Your eyes to wonder what we could do.

~Jacob Fournier

 

Open Bottle: Del Maguey Barril

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Agave is an odd category to me. There is an abundance of good agave products pouring into Los Angeles but unlike whiskey, or even brandy and cognac, I often encounter what feels like an active, willful ignorance from people drinking tequila and mezcal, both in terms of education and general understanding of the spirits..

Requests for mezcal margaritas out number the requests spicy margaritas in my bar these days, but if a customer orders a tequila and I ask them if they’d like a blanco, reposado, or an anejo their eyes glaze over as if I was speaking a foreign language. I can’t imagine what would happen if they requested a mezcal and I asked them if they’d prefer a barril, madrecuiche or a tepezate. And this isn’t me being difficult for the sake of being difficult. These are the same types of questions I ask if someone requests a “whiskey” or a “scotch.” The proliferation, and premiumization, of agave has almost exacerbated the problem. People know that they want it even if they don’t know what “it” is.

If a customer orders a tequila and I ask them if they’d like a blanco, reposado, or an anejo their eyes glaze over as if I was speaking a foreign language.

This isn’t meant to ignore the inroads the category has made. I remember drinking mezcal out of a plastic jug that my collage roommate brought back from Texas and I can still feel that punch in the chest. With the category, and quality, growing so rapidly in the US and Mexico, greater education is needed.

And we wouldn’t be talking about mezcal at all if it weren’t for Del Maguey.

I know it’s hip to hate on the iconic green Del Maguey bottles these days. We’re always looking for what’s new and hip, and at 20 years old Del Maguey is the dinosaur of the mezcal world. But with out them we don’t even get a mezcal category in the U.S.- yet, to most “in-the-know” bartenders that I meet they’re just simply not a cool brand. I blame the Vida for this.

Everyone who’s had mezcal has had Vida. There were no other viable well options for a long time but let’s be honest, the Vida ain’t that great. I still enjoy it more than many other “mixing” mezcals , like say El Silencio, but both of them are stripping out something essential in the process. They may end up being more approachable but they also feel watered down and for the average consumer they end up associating that distinctive green bottle with that level quality.

That’s not to say Del Maguey doesn’t have an eye for quality. The Chichicapa is one of the best mezcals I’ve ever found for mixing and is an invaluable tool to open people’s eyes to the possibilities of what mezcal can taste like and the Santo Domingo Albarradas is to this day one of my favorite sipping mezcals.

But with 21 different products available, some named for the village of production and others for the species of agave they’re not necessarily helping simplify the category. I don’t blame them though. They are just incredibly excited about excellent mezcal and want to share everything they find with drinkers outside of its native village.

Take, for example, the Del Maguey Barril.

It’s part what’s known as the “Vino de Mezcal” series. It’s a term borrowed from the history of agave. Before there were rules on what made something a “Tequila” or a “mezcal” agave spirits were simply called “Vino de Mezcal.” If you’re wondering why they weren’t called “Vino de Tequila” it’s because technically Tequila is a type of mezcal. But that’s a conversation for another day.VinoDeMezcalSeries680.png

For the Del Maguey lineup “Vino de Mezcal” means limited. It’s mezcal that are very terrior driven but can only be produced in limited quantities. The Barril is a single varietal and literally means “barrel” which describes the size and shape of this particular agave varietal. The plants are all 15-20 years old, were fermented for thirty days and then were twice distilled on a clay still with bamboo tubing by Florencio “Don Lencho” Laureano Carlos Sarmiento, an 80 year old palenquero. A palenquero is a nifty word for “mezcal maker.”

It carries that clay minerality over into the liquid. It’s slightly salty, yet fragrant at the same time. There is a green vibrancy that is earthier rather than fruity while still remaining juicy. In the end, it’s a great example of what the world of mezcal can offer to drinkers of barrel aged spirits. It entices them in with some familiarity but then throws open the doors to what is beautiful about the differences.

How do I know all of this? Through tasting and having conversations with people who know more than me but also because the technical details are all right there on their website. You don’t get to be the granddaddy of your spirits category with out recognizing the education problem on your own.

I certainly don’t claim to be an agave expert. I’m just an enthusiast that is looking for a way to bridge that knowledge gap. I want to find a way to start a conversation that will keep mezcal from just becoming “smoky” tequila. And I’m open to suggestions.

 

Redbreast and the Irish Behemoth

For all the talk of the growth of Japanese whisky and the revival of American Bourbon and Rye the words “explosive growth” can only truly apply to Irish whiskey. This trend shows no sign of slowing down with sales expected to double by 2020. Those are some staggering gains so why doesn’t it get the same kind of geeky love that, say, a Yamazaki does? I’d say it’s because for many of us Irish whiskey isn’t a category. It’s just Jameson.

Irish whiskey has traditionally lived and died with the American market. American Prohibition was so devastating that 400 brands made by over 160 distilleries turned into essentially three brands and a whopping four distilleries. And while you may have heard of John Power and Cork Distilleries what you’ve drunk is Jameson.

You’ve drunk a lot of it. In 2014 Jameson sold nearly 18 million liters in the U.S. alone. It’s closest competitor, Bushmills, sold a paltry 1.3 million. Jameson accounts for 63% of the global Irish whiskey market. It’s a behemoth.

You may be asking, if Jameson is such a monster and there are only four distilleries cranking out all of this liquid then where are all these craft Irish whiskies coming from? The answer is Jameson. Or more accurately Irish Distillers who are the massive Irish whiskey conglomerate.

While on this side of the pond growth is being fueled by the proliferation of “craft” distilleries creating a wide range of diverse products, in the Irish segments growth and innovation is being by the big boys. And let’s not kid ourselves it’s a business decision. Premium and super-premium Irish whiskey sales have grown by nearly 600% since 2002. Which is a much more impressive way of saying no one drank it at all and now they drink it a little. They’re creating their own market, and they’re not doing it for the little guys.

That doesn’t mean it’s bad whiskey by any means. In fact I truly believe that there are Irish whiskies that can measure up to the best in the world. Look at Redbreast. It’s an example of understated elegance. The brand goes back to possibly 1903 but certainly 1912 where it was bottled by Gilbey’s using whiskey sourced from the Bow Street Distillery in Dublin, which was, you guessed it, the home of Jameson Irish Whiskey.

In the 1971 Irish Distillers decided to close all of their Dublin distilleries and consolidate their operations at a New Midleton Distillery in Cork. This lead to a disruption in supply and eventually Gilbey’s sold the rights to Redbreast to Irish Distillers in 1986. It seemed like the end of the brand but it was reintroduced in 1991 still boldly 12 years old. In a whiskey world where age statements and brands are disappearing every month the core Redbreast has never lost it’s age statement. In fact, it’s grown over the years with the introduction of a 15 year, 21 year (which is simply stunning) and even a 12 year old cask strength. Where others are contracting they are expanding.

The latest edition to the family is the Lustau Edition. It’s the same Redbreast formula: Pure Pot stilled, made from a blend of malted and unmalted barley (we can talk about the historical reasons for that later) but rather than just the bit of sherry influence carried on the standard 12 year, this whiskey is finished in first fill Lustau Olorosso Sherry casks pulling all those sherry notes to the forefront. It is rich, creamy, with a dark fruit and fig note wrestling with nougat and candied fruit. It is a lively whiskey.

At first the lack of age statement may seem like a step backwards but this Lustau Edition isn’t replacing anything. The 12 year isn’t going anywhere, this is simply an expansion. It is a way to experience and highlight many of the subtleties that exist in the Redbreast line. It is also an experiment.

Experimenting costs money and Jameson is almost certainly footing the bill on this experimental expansion. Big doesn’t always mean bad, just as craft doesn’t always mean good. Experience is one thing you can’t teach and it’s something that the craft distillery world is going to learn the hard way. The folks at Redbreast have already got it down.

Open Bottle: A.H Hirsch Reserve 16 Year Straight Bourbon Whiskey

I’m absurdly lucky in my line of work. I get to taste things that are often considered legends and even more exciting get to stock them at the bar occasionally. Most of these bottles are outside the scope of being able to feature them on a typical Whiskey Wednesday but they all have a story, and all of them are open. So, I’m going to take advantage of this abundance of good fortune and drink my way through them and let you vicariously drink through me.

For our first go around we got a real unicorn of a bottle: the A.H. Hirsch 16 Year Straight Bourbon whiskey. This bottle, along with the original Pappy Van Winkle releases, are what kicked off the super premium Bourbon trend. There’s a great book about its full story called The Best Bourbon You’ll Never Taste by Chuck Cowdry so we’ll do the abridged version here.

Our story begins in a small farm outside of SchaferstowMichter's Ruins.pngn, PA in 1753. John Sheck was doing what most farmers did at the time and was simply distilling as a way to maximize his harvest and make a little extra cash from excess grain. There was no formula to it. But over the next 163 the family grew this small operation into a full blown distillery until they were forced to close the doors in 1919 due to the beast that was Prohibition.

During Prohibition the distillery and farm was sold to a local farmer who more than likely kept the stills warm with a few runs despite Prohibition and after repeal distilling commenced in full force yet again. The distillery changed hands several times in the next few years before being bought by the Schenley Corporation. Schenley was to the American spirits world of the 1940’s what Diageo is to world spirits today. Which is appropriate since Schenley was sold to Guinness in 1986 and Guiness’ merger with Grand Metropolitan in 1997 was the birth of Diageo.

But well before then the distillery had changed hand yet again, this time to Pennco Distillers, and was now know as the Michter’s Distillery. They had new owners, a new IMG_1970.JPGbrand, and Charles Everett Beam, of the Beam family fame, as master distiller. They were ready to rock and roll. Yet despite having limited success with the Michter’s Sour Mash Whiskey (which may or may not have been pot stilled) and being named a National Historic Landmark in 1980 the demand for Bourbon just wasn’t there. What may have been the oldest distillery in the United States closed its doors for good in 1989 and is now just a collection of abandoned buildings.

What does any of this have to do with Hirsch? In the spring of 1974 A.H. Hirsch was one of the major investors in the distillery. And as you may have heard the ‘70s were not a good time for American whiskey and the distillery was strapped for cash. Rather than invest more money into the distillery Hirsch commissioned Charles Everett Beam to make him a whiskey. It was a different mashbill than the sour mash Michter’s was making at the time. It was a true Bourbon and the run produced a measly 400 barrels. This commission did two things: it gave the distillery a quick influx of cash and gave Hirsch an investment that he could sell no matter what happened to the distillery in the future.

14555129485_c0f8ededa1_b.jpg                  And Hirsch never cashed that investment in. Oddly he left it aging in the warehouses, paying taxes on all 400 barrels until the distillery shuttered. Now sitting at a solid 16 years old, ancient by Bourbon standards at the time, Hirsch finally took position and sold of the stock.

The new owners transferred the whiskey to stainless steel tanks to prevent further aging and started bottling the whiskey, naming it in honor of A.H. Hirsch himself. And in another quirk of the incredibly small whiskey world some of the first bottlings were done by Julian Van Winkle III at the same bottling plant he would latter start bottling another famous whiskey named after his Pappy.

The whiskey hit the shelves at around $50 a bottle, again astronomically high for the time, but it turns out it was damn good. Deep leather and tobacco, with nougat  and dried cherry and orange. It’s literally history in a glass. It can never be recreated. The moment in time, and even the distillery are long gone. Unlike your Pappy Van Winkle’s or George T. Stagg’s this piece of Americana will never come around again.

People loved it. It’s a prime example of the excellence that can come from extra aged American whiskey. The bottle became a legend and definitely fueled the love for old Bourbons, and their price tags.
Once, Preiss Imports discovered the following for Hirsch they pulled the last remaining bottles and repacked them in a massive collectors edition with a more massive price tag. It was still possible to order A.H. Hirsch for your bar. If you were willing to shell out for it.

So does it live up to the hype? It’s impossible to say. This bottle is so wrapped up in its history that I can taste it right there next to the oak and vanilla. Despite Chuck’s claim that it’s the best you’ll never taste it’s still out there. And you should taste the history. But, don’t cling to the past. A.H. Hirsch had it’s moment in time. The next moment is out there.

Old Grand Dad’s Goodbye

It’s been an interesting few months for the “Beam” portion of Beam Suntory.

Back in October the had a full worker strike at Jim Beam, it only lasted a single week before both sides reconciled their differences but it also happened to be the same week that Booker’s Rye was named Jim Murray’s World Whiskey of the Year.

The prestige of that super allocated release, as well as the price tag, seemed to add fuel to Beam’s announcement at the end of last year that standard issue Booker’s Bourbon was going to see a production cut and double in price in 2017. This announcement was met with such backlash that the company quickly back tracked, now saying that the price would more gradually increase over the year with only a $20 increase to start off the year. This about face has left many people disgruntled, feeling that they were some how manipulated into snatching up bottles. As if they were forced into buying the whiskey by the announcement.

Add this to the Maker’s Mark brushfire in 2013 where the same company announced that they’d be cutting the proof of Maker’s Mark to increase supply only to quickly change their tune due to community pushback and you seem to have a company with an inte
rnal struggle between the accountants and the physical producers.

Amidst this kerfuffle yet another beloved friend has bit the dust with out much fanfare: the Grand Dad 114. The lack of a dustup might be proof that the company was right to discontinue this expression of Old Grand Dad but I images.jpgpersonally disagree.

Old Grand Dad is old. Not as in an age statement but in terms a brand. And even if you don’t think you’re familiar with the brand you’re wrong. You just know him by another name: Basil Hayden.

Basil Hayden was part of a great migration into the heart of modern day Bourbon Country. He was, like almost everyone else, a farmer first. He distilled to preserve excess grain, just like his neighbors did, with little thought to mashbill or long term aging.

After the civil war whiskey went industrial and around 1882 Basil’s grandson, Raymond, founded a distillery and named it after his Old-Grand Dad and slapped a portrait of him on the label.

After Hayden’s death the distillery passed into the hands of the Wathen’s who made medicinal Old Grand Dad through-out Prohibition and their company, American Medicinal Spirits, became the backbone for National Distillers after repeal which was one of the largest and most influential bourbon makers in American History.

After Prohibition, when whiskey stocks were nearly non-existent, a higher rye content was added to Oimages-1.jpgld Grand Dad’s mashbill in an effort to make it taste and feel like those ‘old style’ distillers in an effort to appeal to the new drinkers.
Flash forward to the late 80’s, National Distillers merged with Jim Beam and amazingly, the mashbill for Old Grand Dad has seemingly been left unaltered. And they even added to the family by introducing Basil Hayden’s in 1992.

I’ve always loved the 114. 114 proof (duh) it is spicy, powerful, dusty leather and a nutty presence that leaves your mouth bone dry, hunting for more. And even if the claim that Basil was known for making bourbon “with a high rye content” is completely unsubstantiated it is still damn good whiskey.

By now Basil Hayden’s far outshines its older iteration, at least in terms of press and sales. And with supply unable to keep up with demand a family sacrifice has been made. So good by 114.

That’s the history, but what about the future of Old Grand Dad? Well, let’s look back at the little ol’ Maker’s mark fiasco and Booker’s Rye awards.

A few months after Beam Suntory announced that the would in fact not be lowering the proof of Maker’s Mark the suddenly released Maker’s Mark Cask Strength. The release was originally very limited and sold exclusively in small format but proved so successful that it’s a full time release now, for a majorly popular brand that carries a higher price tag and slightly more prestige.

Add that to the success, and price tag, they’re having with super limited releases of major brands like Booker’s it’s hard not to see the super allocated Cask Strength Basil Hayden’s wait in the pipeline. And to not see the massive price tag it’ll carry on the shelves and even more gargantuan one it’ll have on the secondary market.images-2.jpg

This is the dark side of the whiskey boom. What helped fuel this boom was availability and price. Bourbon was unpretentious and everyone could afford a great bottle. Now, value is harder to find and more of the fans are being priced out of something they love. If we’re lucky they’ll go the Maker’s Mark route on this one and turn it into a permanent line extension but who can say? The company itself seems to have a hard time making up its mind.

I can’t tell if the glass is half full or half empty but, for tonight at least, it’s filled with Old Grand Dad 114

Just A Little Larceny

Larceny is not theft.

Let’s draw an analogy: Marketing is selling. False marketing is theft.

It’s theft of your time, your ability to make informed decisions and ultimately your money. It’s spending those things with the expectation of one product and getting something at best tangentially related. The liquor world is awash with claims that straddle this divide. American whiskey is the major culprit these days.

The whiskey world is obsessed with authenticity, real or manufactured. We want the 264 year old history of your brand, even though it was just started three years ago. Preferably in convenient sound byte form, downloaded instantly so that when we buy your $50+ bottle we can rest assured that despite it being made in a factory in Indiana we know that you found the recipe in your great grand aunt’s attic.

There are dozens of examples of brands doing it wrong but they get enough ink spent on them. Instead let’s talk about people doing it well and say again: Larceny is not theft.

So, what is Larceny?

It’s a story. A perfect marketing story. Before Prohibition there was a man named John E. Fitzgerald. He never distilled a drop and he never had a distillery. Himgres-1.jpge did have keys to a bonded warehouse where they aged whiskey and was known to “sample” barrels. Sample- read: pilfered. Despite his acts of theft being well known Fitzgerald kept his job. In fact, the company started calling particularly good barrels “Fitzgeralds” and ended up naming a brand after him, all bottled from only the best barrels. After Prohibition the brand was sold to Pappy Van Winkle where it became his flagship brand at Stitzel-Weller.

But as you know from our talk about Pappy last week, Stitzel-Weller closed in 1992. The brand, and some aging whiskey, transferred to Heaven Hill where they created a heated mash bill to keep “Old Fitzgerald” consistent. That is until 2012, when Heaven Hill removed Old Fitz from almost every market and presented us with Larceny. Same juice, but named for the crime. Not the man.

What does this have to do with the whiskey?

Not a damn thing.

It’s all marketing. All a story. John E. Fitzgerald’s Larceny has no more connection to the purported original act of theft than it does to the whiskey made at Stizel-Weller or the whiskey sold before Prohibition. But it’s a story we all tell, something that gets us talking about this bottle.

And it’s still the spirit of Old Fitz. It’s still the same whiskey they were making before the name change. It’s the same mashbill inside the bottle, different proof, no age statement and still nutty, slightly rough around the edges with a dark, dark cherry note ringing through the center. But tasting notes aren’t enough on their own.Tasting notes don’t sell, history does.

And Heaven Hill has history in abundance, what they don’t have is a brand. Jim Beam has a brand. Four Roses has a brand. Heaven Hill has stories: Evan Williams, Elijah Craig, John E. Fitzgerald, and they are very successful stories. Evan Williams is the number two selling Bourbon in the world, so how do you get to number one? Marketing.

In the end is the Larceny a theft?. No, it’s just a fresh coat of paint on a well worn Kentucky barn. It’s still the same whiskey inside.

Your “Pappy’s” History

Pappy is history. Literally and figuratively.

Figuratively, the time when the whiskey was equal to the hype is long gone. The search and endless discussion of the search for Pappy Van Winkle has become a bigger story then the actual whiskey itself. But for most people it’s still just a name. Rather than focus on the ephemeral qualities that may have lead to Pappy’s preeminent status let’s talk some cold hard historical facts that lead to where we are now.

Pappy Van Winkle is a line of Premium Bourbons that in recent years have become the hot ticket item with bottles going for thousands of dollars at auctions and on the secondary whiskey market. The label includes a 15, 20 and 23 year old Bourbon all called “Pappy” as well as several younger variations referred to as “Old Rip Van Winkle” as well as a 13 year old Rye. All of the Bourbons are currently known to be “wheated” Bourbon, meaning that their mashbill is composed of corn, wheat, and barley and as of 2010 all of the whiskey in the bottles has been distilled at the Buffalo Trace Distillery. That wasn’t always the case.

images-2.jpgJulian “Pappy” Van Winkle was a real man. He was involved in the whiskey business well before prohibition. He and his partner, Alex Farnsley purchased a controlling stake in W.L. Weller and Sons in 1908. At the time Weller and sons was strictly a bottler. They distilled nothing themselves but worked very closely with the Stitzel Distillery.

After Prohibition Pappy, ever the shrewd business man, managed to acquire the Stizel Distillery, merged the two operations into the Stizel-Weller Distillery and opened the new distillery on Derby Day in 1935. They begin production on many purchased pre-Prohibition brands including Cabin Still, Rebel Yell and most notably: Old Fitzgerald.

images.jpgPappy’s flagship brand was Old Fitzgerald. His biggest contribution to his namesake Bourbons is his “whisper of wheat.” Every brand that came out of Stizel-Weller was a “Wheated” Bourbon as opposed to the standard mash of corn, rye, and barley. To many this produces a rounder, softer bourbon with more dark fruit and cherry.

Pappy passed away in 1965 when all the cigars and Bourbon caught up to him at the far too young age of 90. His son, Julian Van Winkle, Jr. inherited the business but in 1972 he was forced by stockholders to sell the distillery and brands. He still maintained a bottling plant and resurrected yet another pre-Prohibition brand “OldRip Van Winkle.” No family relation. He continued producing the label sourcing whiskey from what had been the family distillery.

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Flash forward to 1992, Julian Van Winkle III is now in charge of the family company and the Stizel-Weller Distillery is completely shuttered. The remaining brands and whiskey stocks are sold off (the flagship Old Fitzgerald fell into the hands of Heaven Hill) and Julian II continues to use old stock for new bottlings. Old Rip Van Winkle 15 year was released in 1989 but the first mention of “Pappy Van Winkle Bourbon” appears along with the first edition of the 20 year old in 1995.

However, many of these early bottlings are not Stizel-Weller whiskey. Julian II was back where Pappy had started, as a non-distilling producer. A bottler. He was sourcing whiskey and many of the initial offerings of the “Pappy” lineup, like the first edition of Pappy 23 in 1998 are actually high-rye Bourbon from the Barton Distillery.

But the Van Winkle’s never let facts get in the way of a good story and Pappy began getting rave reviews in the late 90s by picking up steam as the Bourbon revival does. In 2002 the Van Winkle’s partner with the Buffalo Trace Distillery and secure a continuous source for their brands.

In the end, the cold hard fact about why Pappy Van Winkle is considered the best Bourbon in the world is because people keep saying it is.

And In 2007 the New York Times puts the Pappy 20 at the top of their list of
premium and super-premium Bourbons leading the revival of the industry. By the time Anthony Bourdain tweets that he’s considering getting a “full pappy back tattoo” in 2011 Pappy-mania is swinging into fifth gear.

Now when most people ask how they can get a bottle of this coveted whiskey gold the answer is, you can’t. Yet people are still getting bottles, often at massive price hikes. So it’s not that you can’t get a bottle, it’s just that someone else is willing to pay more. To the Van Winkle and Buffalo Trace’s credit they haven’t seized upon the Pappy craze to drastically raise prices but the people they sell the bottles to have. Pappy Van Winkle not only helped fuel the Bourbon Revival but also the secondary Bourbon trading market where bottles are traded and sold, technically illegally, online. That’s a lot for one small whiskey to carry on its shoulders.

but_always_fine.jpgIn the end, the cold hard fact about why Pappy Van Winkle is considered the best Bourbon in the world is because people keep saying it is. And because people keep making money off of saying it is. Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it. Think about that the next time you see it listed on someone’s menu for $150+ a pour, and maybe find a bartender you trust to help you drink your next history lesson.

Booker’s: Lost In Imitation

Lost in Imitation.

There is an idea that new adaptations of old work, work that inspired countless imitators, will tend to resemble the imitators more than the original. Think of how the Frankenstein Monster has become a shambling, mute zombie thanks to the 1930s movies despite the original character being verbose, intelligent, and vicious.

Booker’s is an old school classic of the Bourbon world but it’s not an ancient brand. Named for and started by the legendary grandson of Jim Beam, Booker Noe, the brand started out as a gift from Booker to close friends in the late 80s. It proved to be such a hit that it was released to the public in 1992 and it hit all of the right buzz words: Cask Strength, Non-Chill Filtered, Small Batch, 6-8 year old, Straight Bourbon Whiskey.

Except that in 1992 none of these were buzzwords, because bourbon was not buzz worthy. It was barely drinkable in most people’s eyes so this undiluted, turbo-charged whiskey emerging onto the shelves with a $40+ price tag must have seemed like madness. But people fell in love with it. Each batch offered something familiar yet different, all variations on a theme. It didn’t hurt that Booker Noe was one of the first “Celebrity” Distillers. It was the force of his personality and vision that made the brand a success.

Fast forward twenty-five years later and Barrel Strength whiskey is the hot commodity. Booker, the brand and the distiller, was a trend setter. Any bartender or whiskey enthusiast that came of age in the past 20 years has had Booker’s. But in this world of seemingly endless new options most don’t keep a place on the back bar for it. The premiumization of whiskey has driven bartenders and collectors to the next hot commodity, or name, or special release.

Now the trailblazer is reimagining itself in the image of what came after. Starting in the New Year Booker’s Bourbon is going to be nearly doubling in retail price with the number of batches being released annually being reduced from six to four. That’s a massive and immediate shakeup for a long established brand. It’s also following in the path of its imitators by increasing price and reducing supply.

On the one hand, it’s easy to understand this thought process from the higher ups at Beam Suntory. They see younger brands, many of them simply sourced whiskey, going for double or triple the price of Booker’s and want to position themselves against that. There’s also the desire to differentiate their owns brands. Their Small Batch Bourbon Collection (Knob Creek, Basil Hayden, Baker’s and Booker’s) all sit comfortably next to each other in price so there’s no drive towards one brand or the other. All of that makes sound business sense but the cynical view is equally as easy to see. The Booker’s Rye sold out immediately at $300 and won more awards than the Booker’s line has seen in years so it’s hard to not feel like Beam Suntory isn’t just seeing dollar signs.

The real question ends up being, is Booker’s a $90-$100 bottle? If it sells at the price it sure is. The problem is that Booker’s ubiquity also makes it forgettable. Like most of the mainline Beam offerings there’s nothing that makes it stand out. Even from the other members of the Beam family. Jim Beam Whiskey always tastes like Jim Beam Whiskey, no matter what label name they slap on the bottle. And that’s a great positive or negative depending on your point of view. That’s what gave Booker’s its edge, the raw unadulterated flavor of Beam. The last batch of the year “Noe Hard Times” is Booker through and through. Huge oak, vanilla, a massive heat at 127.8 proof, a toasted nuttiness, and that unmistakable bready Jim Beam yeast. It’s a great Beam Bourbon but I’d be hard pressed to call it a $100 bottle.

But while I can, as this incredibly trying year of 2016 draws to a close, I’m going to raise a glass of the past to toast the future. An act that I seem to repeat with more regularity, because change it isn’t a comin’, change has done come.