History – Page 2 – Bottled In Bond LA

Whiskey Wednesday: McKenna’s Patience

May 2, 2017April 24, 2019

Bourbon is full of history, tradition, and ancient family recipes.

Except when it’s not. (which is pretty much all the time.)

This call back to the golden days of our frontier forbearers is meant to impart some sort of permanence, stability, and a patriotic appeal to what is actually a relatively new spirit. Bourbon wasn’t defined as a unique product of the United States until the 1950’s. As far as the United States government was concerned the term “whiskey” wasn’t even defined until almost 1907. So, while the “Founding Father’s” of Bourbon were certainly making whiskey, they were following their own rules by making what felt like a good product to them. Most of the regulation like the Bottled In Bond Act were spearheaded by the distillers themselves looking for tighter control and quality of their products.

In the worst case this clarion call to the past is meant to mislead consumers, but even the best intentioned creates a consumer base deathly averse to change. This is antithetical to the alcohol industry needing to be an ever-evolving marketplace.

Why would you ever change this glorious label?!

I still remember my first gut reaction of, “Why the hell would you do that” in the modern whiskey world. It was the label change on Henry McKenna Bottled-In-Bond.

Henry McKenna is a name that harkens back to the early days of the Kentucky distilling world. In some circles he’s as highly regarded as George T. Stagg and William Larue Weller, (very well regarded indeed).

McKenna was an Irish immigrant that moved to the Kentucky territory in 1838. Like many Irish immigrants at the time Henry worked on the railroads helping build the country’s early infrastructure. Also like many other immigrants he went into less backbreaking work as soon as he could.

He settled with his wife in Nelson County and by 1855 was a partner in a flour mill. Looking to make use of the spent grains they soon purchased a farm and soon after that were distilling about a barrel a day from the leftovers from the gristing process.

These early whiskies were almost assuredly all wheat but by 1858 the whiskey was had proved popular enough to hire a fulltime distillery manager and had begun distilling corn as well.

The whiskey produced at McKenna’s Nelson County distillery never carried the name ‘Bourbon’ but it was regarded to be of the highest quality. Newspaper at the time noted that McKenna never sold a drop that wasn’t at least three years old. There was even a bill introduced to Congress in 1892 asking for unlimited bond period on aging whiskey to prevent tax penalties on whiskey aging beyond the bond. This bill was known as “The McKenna Bill.” The next year McKenna passed away at the age of 75.

He left the business to his sons who had grown up in the distilling world. They managed the company until the advent of Prohibition forced them to mothball the distillery. But following Repeal James McKenna, a ripe 79, reopened the distillery with a distiller trained by his father’s original distillery manager supposedly keeping the family recipe intact.

James died in 1940 and the family sold the distillery to Seagrams, but not the original recipe. Seagrams marketed and produced Henry McKenna for decades until they dismantled the original distillery in 1976 and sold the brand to Heaven Hill in the early 90’s.

Under Heaven Hill two versions of McKenna are still on the shelves. The 80 proof Henry McKenna and the Henry McKenna 10 Year Bottled In Bond Single Barrel. You get one guess which one I love.

Not only does the Bottled-In-Bond meet all of the bonded regulations, it’s also 10 years old which is ancient in this shifting whisky scene AND it’s a single barrel so there is the possibility that each bottle you dive into will be different, a new variation upon the McKenna theme.

I’m spoiled and was able to purchase to Private Single Barrel a few years ago and haven’t tasted a regularly available bottling in a while. So, how does it stack up to all of that history?

The nose is redolent of salted caramel, and the mid palette is all pistachio and pecan drizzled with vanilla and a dry, oaky, tannic finish. There is still a heat, and a rough around the edges quality from the its 100 Proof nature that hasn’t been fully tamed by its ten years in the barrel. It’s a whiskey that you can sip on but feels like it loves to be tossed around in a mixing glass as well, with plenty to offer a cocktail while not losing its identity.

This is most assuredly NOT the whiskey that Henry McKenna was making when he first set out to Kentucky nearly 200 years ago, but it is good modern whiskey. The label change I originally hated has grown on me and I’m sure that its updated look helped introduce it to a modern audience. Trying to stand on tradition alone can often leave us unable to see over the crowd, but perching on it’s shoulders can help show us the stage set for the future.

Leopold of the Future

February 15, 2017

Today’s post is a sneak preview of a Whiskey Wednesday of the future brought to you by a trip a few days in the past. And it’s going to be about Leopold Brothers which I know is going to turn some of you off but stick with me.

I know I’ve said it before but Leopold Brother’s is my platonic ideal when it comes to craft distilleries. They have no desire, or delusions about becoming the next Jim Beam, they just want to make good product, sustainably. They have a long term approach both to their product planning and even the build out of the distillery. I’ve written before about my love of their Maryland Style Rye, and in the pre-blog days even waxed poetic about how their fruit flavored whiskies don’t suck and am consistently intrigued by the fact that they’re still experimenting with new products despite having nearly 20 SKUs on the market. And this week we got to take a VIP tour of the Denver distillery.

I had been looking forward to this trip for a few weeks now and I was completely prepared to nerd out about the open air fermentation tanks, the in house malting floor modeled after the ones at the Springbank distillery, and the last hand hammered CARL still to come out of Germany. But the thing that I truly wanted to see was the Vendome Three-Chamber Still made specifically for Leopold Brothers. And it turns out it was in full operation under the eyes of Todd Leopold that day.

In distilling history isn’t a simple straight line from the old school pot stills to the modern industrial column/continuous stills used in most major distilleries today. One of the most notable steps along that path was the chamber still. The chamber still allows for distilling on the grain and as a large batch as each chamber is refilled from the chamber above. It’s a continuous batching process. And as each chamber is held at a different temperature, different alcohols boil off in each chamber allowing for more concentration of the good alcohols with less of the bad.

fullsizerender — Three Chamber Still In Action

Its also a difference in terms of contact time. In a column still steam is stripping the alcohol off in a matter of seconds where as in the three-chamber still it’s closer to an hour for each batch. You’re getting alcohol either way but the three-chamber is extracting more flavor. And tasting off the still with Todd that massive flavor is immediately apparent with a massive amount of fruit and a viscosity I’ve never encountered in a white dog. If this was handed to me blind I’d be more inclined to identify it as a fruit brandy than a grain spirit.

And not all of that flavor is coming from the still. It’s also the type of rye being used. After careful research into what the standard mashbill used in chamber stills was (80% rye 20% malt) the Leopold’s also partnered with local farmers to grow Abruzzi rye more consistent with the style grown in the late 1800’s. The key difference is a lower starch content, which means less output but bigger rye flavor because there is less generic starch sugar overwhelming the rye. Combine this with their low fermentation temperatures and you have a mash that is less stressed, with fewer of the unwanted ethyl acetates, with a lower yield but more massive flavor.

So why did this type of still disappear? The simple answer is efficiency. The Three-Chamber still requires constant watch and tweaking during the distillation process. The batch that was running through the stills while we were there had been started at about 5:30 in the morning and Todd would be be finishing it up around 7:00 that evening. And he could not leave the still. Literally. The output is also relatively low. The still is only putting out about 4-5 barrels of white dog a day, and while the Leopold still isn’t the largest the yield from even the smallest column still will be magnitudes larger.

Todd’s worry when they were installing this still though was not the efficiency but the flavor. As Todd said, “If MGP rye flavor is 12:00 and this rye came out tasting 12:05 my brother would have killed me.” What convinced Todd that the experiment would pay off was the historical data. Not only were these stills considered standard for rye making at the turn of the century before Prohibition but also Hiram Walker, the largest distillery in the world at the time, had both a three-chamber and a column still. If they were going through the expense to manufacture whiskey on both types of stills there must be a drastic difference in flavor. And he was right, this whiskey is coming out a 6:00. It is just a bigger whiskey.

Which unfortunately means it going to need more aging. These flavors need more time to mellow, to integrate and mature so we’re at least another 2-3 years out from being able to fully experience this revived whiskey. But I suppose we could still visit the aging barrels to say our respects to the future deliciousness. And in the barrel house one more surprise was waiting.

Bottled-In-Bond bourbon barrels.

This is exciting because the proliferation of anything Bottled-In-Bond is cause for celebration but also because once again Leopold Brothers are doing something different. Their standard barrel entry proof is barely above the required 100 proof for bottled in bond products and four years is older than any other product they currently have on the market, so this barrels are going to need careful monitoring to ensure they will live up to their name. But these barrels hold a very real possibility of creating an incredibly unique bottled-in-bond whiskey A whiskey that carries the all of the flavors present in the liquid right off the still, evenly matched up with all of the larger barrel notes.

One of the things I love most about Leopold Brothers is that their experimentation is focused. They are not doing things the old way simply to do them the old way. They are looking how things were done before the need for maximum efficiency, maximum production and maximum profit. It’s about recognizing what changed because a better way was found to recreate the same product versus what was changed to replace a product. As for me, I’m going to keep drinking the Leopold Brother’s current product not only because of what it is but because of the future product will be.

Redbreast and the Irish Behemoth

January 18, 2017January 18, 2017

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

January 17, 2017January 17, 2017

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 Schaferstown, 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 brand, 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.

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

January 11, 2017

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 personally 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 Old 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.

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

Your “Pappy’s” History

December 28, 2016

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.

Julian “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.

Pappy’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.

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.

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 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.

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