Tag: Changes

Whiskey Wednesday: A Tale of Two Elmer’s

            I received a text this week from a friend that without preamble said, “Did Elmer T. Lee get worse?”

            My gut reaction was, “Of course not! How dare you besmirch the name of the dearly departed father of modern Bourbon!?” After calming myself with a hefty dram I remembered that despite centuries of tradition whiskey making is a constantly evolving art and barrel aging is by no means an exact science. To add to that, there were claims of “cork taint” by members of the Reddit whiskey community in 2016.  The popularity of Elmer T. Lee has also exploded in recent years so the odds are that it’s younger stock than previous years. By the end of the glass the question was less of an attack and more of a probability.

Son, we’re not hiring today.”

            This could have remained a simple thought experiment but a recent trip to the Liquor Locker left me with a bottle of 2014 Elmer and the ability to do a little compare and contrast. But first a little context.

What exactly is Elmer T. Lee? Elmer T. Lee is both a Single Barrel Kentucky Straight Bourbon, and the deceased former Master Distiller of the distillery we now know as Buffalo Trace. 

“Son, we’re not hiring today.” Is how Col. Albert B. Blanton first greeted Elmer in 1949, but at the instance of his friend at the distillery he showed up to work the next week anyway.  Over the years Elmer grew from a maintenance engineer to the distilleries first Master Distiller. He officially “retired” in 1985 but not before releasing the world’s first Single Barrel Bourbon, Blanton’s, named after the man who didn’t hire him.

After Blanton’s became a hit the distillery honored its Master Distiller emeritus with his own namesake Single Barrel. Elmer was still heavily involved with the distillery and would come in every Tuesday to taste barrels and make selections for his namesake release.

Before Blanton’s, and Elmer, the concept of a “Single Barrel” Bourbon didn’t exist.  Remember, barrel aging isn’t an exact science. Every barrel ages differently depending on where in the rickhouse it sits, the quality of the barrel, the temperature swings over the years, all of these factors contribute to each barrel being a unique specimen But the whole idea of a bottled whiskey is consistency so generally barrels are blended, or batched, together to recreate a specific flavor profile. For a Single Barrel all of the whiskey in the bottle comes from one single barrel and has to stand on its own individual merits. While there will always be some variation, it is a sign of the skill of the distillery to be able to produce quality single barrels that are still consistent.

Both Blanton’s and Elmer share the same DNA. They’re both Buffalo Trace Mashbill #2 which is slightly higher in rye content (about 15%) and are both technically co-owned and produced with Age International. They’re both single barrels and they’re both non-age statement Bourbon’s so we know they’re at least older than four years. But two things separate them from each other: aging and proof.

Drinking is such an individual experience. It’s can be a social activity but the act of tasting is something intrinsically personal.

Blanton’s is always aged in Warehouse H, which was commissioned by Blanton himself. It  is a fully metal clad warehouse which allows for greater heat transfer and, supposedly, more rapid aging. Elmer has no such restrictions on what warehouse it must be aged in which theoretically allows for a larger variation in flavors.

Elmer is also bottled at 90 proof (45% ABV) where as Blanton’s is bottled at 93 Proof (46.5% ABV). While this difference seems small the alcohol is where the flavor is. A few extra proof points can make a world of difference and a whiskey can open up with just a few more drops of water. That isn’t to say that higher proof is always better, just like older doesn’t always mean better, it just means a different flavor profile. Interestingly, Elmer was said to drink his Bourbon at 60 Proof as he felt that was the point when he could taste all the flavor with out the alcohol getting in the way.

Now that all the intellectual foreplay is out of the way, how do they actually taste?

Four Years can really change a bottle.

2014

  NOSE: Oak and Clove

  PALETTE: Earthy, Dark Chocolate, Coffee, Tobacco

  FINISH: Long, slightly damp and musty

2018

            NOSE: Oak, Stone fruit, Vanilla

            PALETTE: Rye Spice, Stone Fruit, Tobacco, Coffee

            FINISH: Light, Spicy

Surprisingly, the 2014 is livelier in the glass, with a bigger spice on the nose and a more rounded midpalette. However, the 2018 carries a darker earthiness, more of the tobacco I associate with Elmer’s and a longer finish. Yet they are both still Elmer. In fact, pouring the two together creates an almost uber-Elmer that is exactly what I expect Elmer to taste like all the time.

Drinking is such an individual experience. It’s can be a social activity but the act of tasting is something intrinsically personal. Where you are at, what time of the year, and how much effort you put into finding the bottle all effects how the spirit tastes. So, back to my friends original question. Did Elmer T. Lee get worse? I’d say no, but it is different. But then again, so am I.

Whiskey Wednesday: Elijah Craig Check In

Another year and another barrel of Elijah Craig. The very first single barrel I ever picked out for a bar was a barrel of Elijah Craig for Areal a good five years ago. I’ve been fortunate enough to select an Elijah Craig barrel every year since so its arrival is usually a great touchstone for me to reflect on the previous year. A Bourbon New Year as it were. And it’s been a hell of a year.

I left a bar that I ran for nearly five years that promptly closed six months later. I started a new job at Faith and Flower in Downtown LA, competed in the National finals of three major cocktail competitions, traveled to Tokyo, started this wordy blog, and picked out another barrel of Elijah Craig.

Elijah Craig is often the answer to the inevitable question, “What do you drink?’ I’ve talked about it at length here, and here, and during innumerable shifts behind the bar. The basic gist though is that Elijah Craig is one of the semi-mythical early Bourbon distillers that sometime after his death was decreed to be “the Father of bourbon” after he became the first person to char his barrels before aging his whiskey. It’s a completely unsubstantiated claim that makes a good story. So, we all tell the story and then acknowledge that it’s complete nonsense.

The current Elijah Craig brand was introduced by Heaven Hill in 1986 and has gone through multiple changes in its 30-year history but the past year was quite striking. The iconic 12-year old age statement was dropped from the label with the whiskey instead becoming a blend of 8-12 year old. The old school squat bottle was also replaced with a sleeker, taller, more streamlined bottle that I’m personally not a fan of but does actually fit a pour spout .

If you can’t tell, I don’t like change. And that’s not to say anything against the whiskey. It’s still an earthy, massively tanic, barrel forward whiskey that is one of the few bottles that I think works equally well in both mixed drinks and as a neat sipper. Most of these changes were made because there’s not enough whiskey to go around. Especially not old whiskey. Part of me feels like saying so what? Let there not be enough for everyone, don’t change this bottle that I love. Yet, that view is selfish.

Part of the joy of bartending, and indeed the joy of this very blog, is getting to share things that I love with other people. In the end, these changes aren’t for me. I clearly jumped on the train years ago. These changes are for the people seeing Elijah Craig for the first time on a billboard, or a sports arena, or even hearing about it on its recent NPR advertisements. The old Preacher is growing and hanging out with a younger crowd these days and I’m glad to see it.

In the end change isn’t good or bad. How we react to it, how we deal with it, that’s where the emotion comes in. Sometimes, change is just change. And I look forward to seeing what the Preacher and I have to talk about the next time we see each other.