Whiskey Wednesday: Nikka Days of Our Lives

I love a good story and Nikka Whisky certainly has a good story. A story of both an excellently crafted whiskey but also a phenomenal story in the life of the company’s founder, Masataka Taketsuru. The month of January is especially important to the story of Taketsuru and his redheaded Scottish wife, Rita. So I thought I’d take some time and look at a few of Nikka’s offerings for the rest of January. 

In 1918 Masataka Taketsuru was sent to Scotland by the Settsu Shuzo company to learn how to make whisky from the Scottish master craftsmen. The goal was to learn from the best, return home, and create a Japanese whiskey that would be on par with the best whiskies being produced in the world. The unexpected consequence was Taketsuru meeting Jessie Roberta Cowan, known as Rita, while teaching Judo to her brother Ramsay. 

In a time when “international” marriages were rare the two fell in love. Takatsuru proposed in September of 1919 and the two were married on January 8, 1920, exactly 100 years ago. After the marriage the two moved to Campbelltown where Taketsusru completed his apprenticeship. The two returned to Japan in November of 1920, partially due to Rita’s encouragement. Taketsuru had expressed a desire to stay in Scotland with his marriage to Rita but she disagreed. “We should not stay in Scotland, she said, “We should head to Japan. Masataka-san is living a big dream, a dream to make whisky in Japan. I want to live your dream together.” 

Upon their return to Scotland the landscape had changed. The post World War II depression had set in and the Settsu Shuzo company was no longer financially able to invest in new projects, like whisky making. When he left the company in 1922 he found a job, through a friend of Rita’s, as a science teacher. The following year he was offered a job at Kotobukiya to make whisky. 

The name Kotobukiya may not be familiar to Western ears but the company it grew into, Suntory, certainly is. While Masataka helped them produce their first whiskies from the brand new Yamazaki Distillery his first wide spread release was essentially a failure and Masataka parted way after fulfilling his ten year contract. 

In 1934 the couple founded the Dai Nippon Kaju, Co., literally the “Great Japanese Juice Company, in Yoichi, Hokkaido. The two said the Yoichi, more than any other place in Japan, reminded them most of Scotland. This endeavor was made possible by investors who were introduced to Taketsuru through Rita. Both of the primary investors had family that had taken private English lessons from Rita. With the help of these investors, and the production of many apple products in the early years, Taketsuru was eventually able to release his own whisky in 1940 winning much acclaim over the years and the company formally being renamed as Nikka Distilling in 1952. 

Sadly, on January 17, 1961 Rita passed away at the age of 64. She was buried on a hill overlooking the Yoichi Distillery and Taketsuru engraved both of their names on the tombstone promising they’d be together forever. 

As much as I love a good whisky making love story, I also love duty free shopping. There is always something unique and quirky to be found. But in a world where Japanese Whisky is in ultra-high demand, and age stated malts are disappearing daily even the unique duty-free offerings are drying up. Which is why, on a recent international trip, I was so surprised to find a bottle I had never seen before, the Nikka Days. 

The Nikka Days was released in 2018 and seems to be a response to all of the factors above that are pressing in on stocks of Japanese Malt. It is a blended whiskey made of lightly peated malt and grain whiskies from both the Yoichi and Miyagikyo distilleries. 

The brand says that it has always stood at the crossroads of between East and West, tradition and innovation. Saying that each day is a journey and an opportunity to learn from previous days, and that this whisky embodies that mentality. Hence the name. 

The whiskey is certainly result of the current journey of the whisky world. So how does it taste? 

NOSE: Apple, Orange Blossom, Vanilla, Melon 
PALETTE: White Chocolate, Toffee, Citrus, a touch of smoke, and fresh apples 
FINISH: Slightly sweet, bright, with a touch of creaminess 

It is certainly fitting that apples are so prominent on the nose and palette of this whisky. Ultimately this is a very serviceable whisky but it stands in the shadow of its history and the massive malts that Nikka is known for. The price point also makes it hard to justify as a day to day sipper but it is worth the journey to spend a few days with if you are traveling. 

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: Nikka From The Barrel and to the US

 One of the best things about traveling is seeing what is out there in the world that can’t be seen from home.

When it comes to spirits traveling abroad often means encountering ex-pat style spirits; bottlings like Blanton’s Straight From The Barrel, an Early Times bottled at 37.1 Proof, or the Wild Turkey 13 Year. These are intriguing because they’re both familiar yet unattainable but they don’t fill a void or represent something new. Their appeal is mostly just that they can’t be had at home.

Despite what the name might imply, the whisky itself is not a single barrel expression.

More frustrating to me are those spirits that I discover but have no recourse to obtain at home. These are products that are fundamentally different from the familiar yet still incredibly appealing and often made by companies that already have products in the States. Products like the Giffard Melon, the Etter Apricot Eau-de Vie, and, until this past month, the Nikka From The Barrel Japanese Whisky numbered among them.

At this point it should be very apparent that Japanese whisky is the soup du jour of the whisky world, but instead of talking about the loss of an age statement or product line being discontinued for once we’re actually seeing an expansion of a product. And not a wholly new formulation specifically designed for a market, just an honest to god expansion of availability.

I first came across the Nikka From The Barrel when traveling to France a couple years ago. Not only was I struck but how incredibly flavorful it was but by how ubiquitous it was. I erroneously assumed it was a specialty release only to hear from the bartenders that it was their mixing Japanese whisky.  Keep in mind that this was pre-Toki when the prices were rising and stock plummeting and the ability to make cocktails with Japanese whisky was dwindling. Yet here was an over-proof, affordable, mixable Japanese whisky.  And I couldn’t have it.

Despite what the name might imply, the whisky itself is not a single barrel expression. It is instead a blend, remember the Japanese whisky makers consider themselves more blenders then distillers. This is Single Malts from Nikka’s Yoichi and Miyagikyo Distilleries, as well as grain whisky from Miyagikyo that has been rested and married in an oak barrel for 3-6 months. It is coming from the blending  barrel not a single barrel.

The extra aging allows the whiskies to marry and evolve together before being bottled at near cask strength, a powerful 102.8 proof. This power of proof and flavor is what made the whisky such an amazing value. There is just so much packed into its little bottle. And the bottle is little. Designed to be reminiscent of a “small lump of whisky” to visualize the concentrated power inside the bottle it is packed as 500ml. This is a bottle size so far outside the allowable norms for US production that I think this more than anything is what kept it from our shores for so long.

With its Stateside release, Nikka kept the same bottle design but simply scaled it to a 750ml size. Not quite as elegant and evocative but it’s always been what’s inside the bottle that counts.

So, what’s inside the bottle? The same blend of malt and grain married for 3-6

It’s also proof that global expansion and demand can be gracious and bring you new experiences and treasures, instead of putting up artificial boundaries.

months in oak casks. Still bottled at 51.4% alcohol this is a big hitter.

The Nose carries a hint of fresh, green fruit, with a baking spice overlay and of course a discernable oak note. The alcohol vapors can accidently overpower some of the more subtle notes if you inhale too deeply on the first sniff.

On the palate is a big, full bodied whiskey. The dark baking spice notes leap to the front. Brown sugar, caramel, and the fruit stays fresh and a touch more citrusy than expected from the nose. The distillate is incredibly clean and dry.

The finish is long, drawn out, and the oak lingers after the alcohol has burned off. A few drops of water really does help mellow this whisky and expand the range of flavor.

What’s truly great about this whisky to me is that it’s simultaneously an entry level whisky and yet not. It’s something the evolves over time, much like the person drinking it.

It’s also proof that global expansion and demand can be gracious and bring you new experiences and treasures, instead of putting up artificial boundaries.

Whiskey Wednesday: Hibiki’s Resonant Disappearance

Despite being a self avowed fanatic of American whiskey the thing I’ve
found myself writing about and drinking the most recently has been
Japanese whisky.  The last time we spoke way back in December I was
drinking poetic about the Hakushu malts and the fact that though they often seem
to be in the shadow of their Yamazaki counterparts the excellence
of their design meant that it wouldn’t be long before they too
disappeared into a puff of Unicorn smoke.

That opinion seems to have be prophetic with the recent announcement
by Beam Suntory of the “partial” discontinuation of both the Hakushu
12 year and the Hibiki 17 year expressions. While the products will
only be officially discontinued in Japan they will only have “limited
availability in the next few years.” This announcement came as a bit
of a surprise to me with the Hakushu because I haven’t seen it have
the same name recognition and brand power as the Yamazaki does in the
States. But when your distillery is only 45 years old its easy to see
how your supply of 12 year old single malt could be tight.

But the real surprise to me was the Hibiki 17.

The house of Suntory have always considered themselves to be blenders
above all else. While the Single Malts may be the high priced auction
house darling the Hibiki line has always been the jewel in Suntory’s
eye.

Meaning “resonance,” the Hibiki line was first released in 1989, 5
years after the first release of Yamazaki 12 year. Originally
comprised of just the 17-year and the 21-year, a 30-year expression
was released in 1997 and the much missed 12-year was introduced in
2009 before being announced as discontinued in 2015.

Think about that for a moment. The Hibiki 12-year appeared on the
market, soared in popularity, became a staple of the bar world, and
then completely vanished all in the space of 6 years. That’s an insane
trajectory for any brand and is perfect evidence that Japanese whisky
is a truly global product at this point.

The Non-Age Statement Hibiki Harmony hit the market slightly before
the disappearance of the 12-year and despite everyone crying, “Foul!”
many of us were willing to give Beam Suntory the benefit of the doubt
for two reasons: 1) the Hibiki 12-year was the only expression to
utilize whisky that was aged in plum wine casks. They hadn’t
projected for the popularity of the expression, so they discontinued it
because 2) the Harmony wasn’t a replacement for the 12-year. It is
meant to be a more accessible version of the 17-year.

The Hibiki line has always been a blend of whiskies from all three
of the Suntory distilleries: Yamazaki, Hakushu, and
Chita. To them it is the confluence of every unique facet of their
operation. It is meant to represent the ideal of the harmony between
people and nature. The 24 facets of the bottle represent the 24
seasons of the Japanese calendar and invoke the comparison of this
balance to the balance of the malt and grain whiskies in the Hibiki
blend that resides inside the bottle.

This attention to detail is part of what has always set the Hibiki
line apart from my disdain of other blends. And yes, you would have
had to be a real prophet 20 years ago to predict the explosive growth
of the segment, and yes, it’s a real shortage. Bars in Japan are
pouring the Harmony just like we are over here. And yes, the rise of
shochu and decrease in whisky drinking in the 80’s led to lower
production. But the line was introduced in the late 80’s when this
downturn was happening and while the 17-year is being officially
discontinued in Japan it’s “limited availability” will continue to
limp on in the United States. This speaks to the power and demand for
premium aged Japanese whisky in the US, but also can’t help but lend
a tinge of cynicism to the disappearance of the 17-year. Its as if stocks
are being pulled at a younger age to go into blends like the Harmony
to cash in on the popularity wave now versus risking a drop in demand
later.  And if that’s true who could blame them?

In Beam Suntory’s defense, the Harmony is still damn delicious and
their quality has not dropped. They have also consistently stated that
they are ramping up production and that this will be a temporary
hiccup, but how many temporary hiccups have we seen come with a flashy
return and a price hike? (I’m looking at you Old Fitz.)

None of this denies the fact that the Hibiki 17 Year is an amazingly
delicious dram. The nose is full and rich, distinct notes of honey,
with some roasted pear, a touch of smoke and ume plum.

The palette offers a touch of sweetness to go along with the initial
scents with the addition of raisin, oak, and a pithy citrus zest that
carries on to a long finish that turns into an darker
amontillado sherry note with a touch of cacao.

It’s easy to see why this blend is the crown jewel of the Hibiki line,
it’s easy to see how we drank it all out of stock, it’s easy to see
why they may have discontinued this expression to protect the more
award winning 21-year expression, and it’s easy to see why we should
all raise a glass and drink to this resonant whisky and to its equally
evocative moment in time.

Whiskey Wednesday: A Bitter-Sweet Hakushu

Life is a bittersweet balance. I’ve been hosting Whiskey Wednesday for going on six years now. It’s exposed me to more bottles and drams than I can count, constantly challenged me to stretch my creative muscles, and introduced me to some of the most delightful nerds/people that I’ve ever met.  I’ve grown as a person, a bartender, a writer and a insufferable know it all.

I never would have thought six years ago that these Wednesdays would be something that I would still be doing, let alone have my thoughts and notes for them become so expansive that they would undergo a biogenesis into a blog that people actually read. I also wouldn’t have survived all these years with some semblance of my sanity intact if things had stayed stagnant. Change, experimentation, and misplaced passion have kept me going.

And now it’s time for another change. After today, Whiskey Wednesday continues but it’ll become more abstract. Less about every scattered soul flocking to the bar once a week for a drink, and more about raising a glass from where ever we might be. So, for my last night behind the stick for the foreseeable future lets combine the past and the future and pour some Hakushu.

The Hakushu Distillery was found in 1973, 50 years after Yamazaki, it often seems to live in the shadow of its older sibling. It also lives in the shadow Mt. Kaikoma in the Japanese Southern Alps. This was a deliberate choice made by Keizo Saji, the company’s second Master Blender. He chose the site primarily because of the quality of the water. The naturally granite filtered water leant a subtlety and effervescence to the distillate but the site also offered a distinct microclimate with the surrounding forest and with it sitting at 700m above sea level its definitely one of the highest elevations for whisky distillation in the world. For comparison Scotland’s two highest distilleries, Dalwhinnie and Braeval, both sit around 355 meters above sea level.

All of this combines to create a spirit that is lighter, more delicate, and often more mellow than its Yamazaki counter points. Also, unlike Yamazaki, Hakushu utilizes peated malt. When combined with the distillery and terrior this peat takes on more of recently extinguished early morning, mountainside cooking fire than more maritime and often aggressive smokes of the Scots.

The distillery also takes to heart the Japanese respect for nature. It strives for harmony with its surroundings right down to its aging warehouses. Built into the mountain itself they utilize earthquake safe, single story tacks that are about 13 levels high. This kind of aging space, combined with the high elevation has allowed them to mature a spirit with relatively low barrel influence, especially for the age of the whiskey.

As for the whiskey itself, both Hakushu and Yamazaki import their barley, both the peated and unpeated barley. However, they do grind, mash and ferment on site. They have six pairs of stills at Hakushu with at least 4 different shapes. They then utilize five different type of aging casks while primarily focusing on ex-Bourbon and hogsheads. All of this diversity in barley, stills and barrels allows them to create what they call a combination of 40 different styles of whisky. Keep in mind Suntory’s primary craft, as they see it, is blending. And unlike Scotland where even rivals will trade barrels back and forth to get unique flavors for blends, Suntory was essentially trying to build a category from scratch. If they wanted diversity they had to make it themselves. And 44 years later it feels like Hakushu is finally coming into its own.

It may seem odd to call a 44-year-old operation “young” but when your primary marks are a 12 year and 18 year old single malt a 44 year old distillery may not be an infant but its still most certainly a toddler.  Hell, the first release of Hakushu 12 wasn’t until 1994, a solid 10 years after the release of Yamazaki 12 year. And while the Yamazaki has the experience and the award that come with it the Hakushu is certainly flexing it’s muscle.

Both the 12 year and the 18 year are primarily composed of three styles of distillate: unpeated distillate aged in sherry buts, unpeated distillate aged in hogsheads, and peated distillate aged in ex-Bourbon. These truly show off the complexity and depth of the distillery creating a whiskey that is light, yet powerful. The aroma of smoked pears wafts over a palette that is green, with a touch of citrus and smoke. The 18 draws out more of the stone fruit qualities while adding a touch more sweetness from the extra oak.

In short, Hakushu also knows what they’re doing and while it may stay in the shadows of its mountain forest home it won’t be in the shadows of its Yamazaki brethren.

So, come share a glass with me because it won’t be long before Hakushu catches up to the Yamazaki awards and it disappears like a forest mist of rarity and also because who knows where we’ll both be the next time we can.

Drinking Poetic (on a Wednesday): Highballs

I’m a whiskey purist. Bourbon, Scotch, Japanese, Barrel Strength, it doesn’t matter, I drink it neat. For years I was determined that not even a drop of water would come between myself and my sweet, sweet barrel aged nectar. What’s changed me? The highball.

Highball_Signal_Jun_12      The highball is nothing new. It’s a simple class of drinks: a shot of spirit diluted with several ounces of a carbonated beverage on ice. My favorite rationale for where the term “highball” originated from comes from the old railroad days. Along the rail tracks there were “highball” signals where a ball would be hoisted out of a barrel signaling that the track ahead was clear and the trains could travel full speed ahead. A “highball” drink was at the time served in a highball glass with a single lump of ice. As the soda was added to the glass the ice would rise just like the highball signal telling drinkers they could dive in at full speed as well as quickly down the remainder of the drink when their train pulled in.

Like most classic it was simple, easy, and was much abused during the 70s, 80s and 90s becoming barely recognizable but it’s still a class of drinks that people still know the name for.  But the highball that interests me, the undiluted purist, is a straight whiskey soda.

My first highball in Japan was out of a can.

Ask for a Whiskey Highball in the U.S.A and there’s a good chance you’re going to end up with a whiskey and ginger and even this combo wasn’t enough for the sugar loving American palette and has been vastly over shadowed by its cousin the Jack and Coke. But in Japan the Whisky Highball has been elevated to an art form. I had heard the hype but it wasn’t until I visited Tokyo this year that I finally understood.

My first highball in Japan was out of a can.  I would never even consider getting a canned mixed drink from a 7/11 in the States but when you cross the international date line and land in the future and your hotel room isn’t ready for another 7 hours what else are you supposed to do while walking through the city?

From the moment that can touched my lips all I drank for the rest of that trip was highballs. And what struck me everywhere was the balance and the quality.

It was expected in Ginza. It was a random bar that we didn’t know the name of. The bartender knew maybe a handful of English words but when we ordered Suntory Highballs he enthusiastically pulled every Suntory whisky he had from the back bar to try and walk us through which one we actually wanted, and then thoughtfully poured the whisky over hand carved ice, stirred, and topped with soda before continuing on to casually brulee half of a passion fruit for the garnish of another customers drink. But when the highball at the chain ramen shop where you have lunch is just as elegant you know there’s something special happening.

It’s an attention to detail and a respect for the process. Each person who poured me a highball had respect for the process in their own way. Its easy to see, and taste, why highballs are a cultural force in Japan. And with the rise of Japanese Whisky across the world the Japanese are trying to export their highball ethos as well.

Suntory and Nikka have both made moves to position themselves in the highball world. Suntory has even released the Suntory Toki in the states, a blend specifically designed for the taste profile, and price point, of a highball. But the problem for me with the Highball in the States is the soda. Doesn’t matter how good or finally designed your whisky is the moment it is smothered by carbonated water from the gun, or drowned with a bottle of Canada Dry it’s lost it’s edge. There’s just simply a difference in the quality of bubbles.

Its odd to call a machine thoughtful but all good bartending has a certain degree of prep that happens behind closed doors.

Enter the Toki Highball machine. My first thought on hearing about this highball machine was why the hell would I need a machine to make the simplest drink on the planet?! But after my eyes were opened in the Land of The Rising Sun I approached the machine in a new light.

The design and execution of this machine are thoughtful. Suntory was aware of the problems of trying to export their highball style and worked to eliminate as many roadblocks as possible. Not only does the machine have the necessary refillable whisky tank, but also a separate water cooling system. It then carbonates with amazing specificity and will dispense the sparkling water independent of the whisky. My bubbles problem was solved.

It also adds a measure of thoughtfulness back into the process. Its odd to call a machine thoughtful but all good bartending has a certain degree of prep that happens behind closed doors. Whether it’s batching, technique training, or infusion,s a good portion of our job is doing the work out of sight so that the customer can sit at the bar and enjoy a seamless, delightful night out on the town. And the behind the scenes work has definitely been done to bring these highballs from Tokyo to LA.

So rejoice! Tonight is the unveiling of the Toki Highball machine at Faith and Flower. Come see exactly what I mean.

Whiskey Wednesday: The Art of Kavalan

If the Scots are the craftsman of the whisky world, passing down tradition and technique year after year because it works, then the Japanese are the engineers, dissecting and reassembling each component part. The Taiwanese are the artists, free willing and experimental; it’s insane that we can even make that analogy because there is only one distillery in Taiwan and it’s barely into its Tween years.

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After Taiwan joined the WTO in 2002 Mr. Tien-Tsai Lee, founder of the KingCarbeverage conglomerate, was finally able to enter the whisky world and established the Kavalan distillery in 2005. The distillery takes it’s name from the Taiwanesse aboriginal ethnic group that originally inhabited Yilan county where the distillery is located in northeastern Taiwan. The distillery is built with classic Scottish pot stills and massive technological steps were taken to protect the fermentation and the distillation from the Taiwanese heat. Rather than adhere to how things are done traditionally they have worked to embrace the natural elements of Taiwan, most notably climate, to create something unique in the increasingly crowded whisky landscape.

The distilleries first new make flowed from the stills in early 2006 and the distilleries first whisky, the Kavalan Classic Single Malt, was released in December of 2008. That is a massively fast turn around for a new single malt. For the Scotch and the Japanese you can’t even legally call a product whisky until its aged for a minimum of three years and most distillers in those countries would call a three year old far too immature and unripe for release. This brings us back to the climate.

download.jpg            Almost every year, as reliable as new iPhone releases, someone touts a new aging process that’s a breakthrough that allows for rapid aging, creating the equivalent of a 12-year old scotch in a fraction of the time. In every case the whisky produced by these methods either never materializes or falls vastly short of it’s lofty goals. I’d be just as skeptical of the claims that once the team at Kavalan stopped resisting the humidity and heat of the sub-Tropical Taiwanese environment they were able to rapidly age their product if the whisky in the bottle wasn’t so damn good. As their Master Blender Ian Chang says, “We think of our heat as a sandpaper and our newly made spirit as a rock with edges,”

But it’s not just the unique climate. Kavalan is also exceptionally good at cask management. This cask management truly shines in their Soloist series.

The Soloist series is a lineup of Single Cask, Cask Strength, and Single Malt whiskies and it is these releases that made drinkers sit up and take notice. It is called the Soloist line because every release is like a soloist in a concert where their classic series is the whole orchestra. These releases quickly gained notoriety until in 2015, a mere ten years after breaking ground on the distillery, one of these releases, the Vinho Barrique, won “World’s Best Single Malt” in the World Whiskies Awards.

The Vinho Barrique harnesses the climate and marries it with excellent cask IMG_4520selection. The casks use a shave, toast, and re-char process on old Portuguese wine casks that creates a heavy oak influenced whisky. But rather than produce the heavily tannic, overly woody notes we often see in American quarter casks, instead it’s a finely tuned balance with rich dark berries, plum, and tropical fruit dancing along the edges of the oak’s vanilla and tannin while swimming in the traditional malt backbone of a well aged whisky. Being bottled at cask strength cuts through what could have been a cloying sweetness to instead add a spice note that allows the finish to linger long into the night.

 

This award and bottling blew the roof off of Kavalan and their prices soon followed. In fact, many of the Soloist series had to be turned into standard issue, non-cask strength releases for the U.S. to keep up with demand even with the distillery expanding in 2015 to become the 9th largest single malt distillery in the world. They’re still experimenting and utilizing that climate and those casks with a new series of single barrel, cask strength, sherry and port cask releases that you’ll probably never casually encounter without a starting price tag of $400+ per bottle.

So what are you likely to encounter? Well, with the Soloists taking a quick intermission the concert continues with the Kavalan Classic that we mentioned before. Keep in mind this is a young distillery, no matter what accolades they’ve accrued, and they’re still playing with their formula. Point in fact, the Classic is an 80 proof bottling for most of the world but to appeal to American palates and American fans of the overproof work, here it’s bottled at a slightly bigger 86 proof.

A blend of ex-Bourbon, ex-sherry, and ex-wine casks all about 4-4.5 years old it doesn’t drink like a young whisky and has a lighter complexion. Stone fruit, a touch of floral sherry, and vanilla with a distinctive toasted malt are all present. But it doesn’t hold a candle to the bonfire that is the Vinho Barrique or really any of the Soloist single barrels. Which is a shame because those bottles are quickly becoming unicorns.

In the end it comes back to our craftsman vs. engineers vs. artists. The artists at Kavalan have produced a few shining masterpieces but they haven’t quite mastered the skill that sets the craftsmen and the engineers apart: blending. The Japanese have been able to set themselves apart by truly understanding and controlling every drop of whisky to blend it together to create art and the Scots have years of tradition that makes it seem a natural talent. Kavalan is just dipping its brush into the wider world of consistency.

Just as the Taiwanese heat seems to speed their whisky more swiftly to maturity, Kavalan itself has sped right into all the major touch stones of the modern whisky world: craft distilling, underdog appeal, rapid growth and awards, price hikes and shortages. No matter where it goes from here there is no denying that Kavalan is true global player.

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Whiskey Wednesday: Traditional Yoichi Changes

After taking a look at what could be classified as one of the old school classics of Japanese Whisky, the new kid on the block, and the Americans jumping on the bandwagon I wanted to take a look at how things change.

            While the Japanese Whisky world is less than 100 years old it is still deeply rooted download-1.jpgin tradition, both its own and the Scotch Whisky tradition that gave birth to it, so change comes slowly. And while whiskey history is littered with mythological founding fathers modern Japanese Whisky owes it’s life and it’s tradition, to one man: Masataka Taketsuru.

     Born in 1894 Taketsuru was born the third son of a family of sake brewers in Takehara, a mere 60km outside of Hiroshima. The Taketsuru family trace their roots as sake brewers back to at least 1733 and Masataka was expected to take over the family business after his older brothers showed no interest, but like many young men Masataka became enamored with the magic of whisky. Specifically Scotch whisky.

            In 1918 Masataka seized on an opportunity to study abroad in Scotland andenrolled in the University of Glasgow to study organic chemistry. It is one of the truths of the world that no matter how hip marketing makes the booze you drink look it’s always being made by a chemist.

            In April 1919 he apprenticed at the Longmorn distillery in Speyside and not long after met Jesse Roberta “Rita” Cowan, a red headed Scottish beauty that he loved even more than whisky, and who would remain his muse for the rest of his life. The two supposedly fell in love when they sang Auld Lang Syne together and  married in 1920 rita-masataka-1.jpg(over objections from both families) and in May of that same year Taketsuru began an apprentice at Hazelburn distillery where he gained a greater understanding of blending whiskey as well as distilling. He and Rita returned to Japan that November with plans to help the Settsu Shozo Company set up the first Japanese Whisky distillery. These plans never came to fruition.

In 1923 Taketsuru entered a 10-year contract with Kotobukiya Limited, what we now know as Suntory, and along with Suntory’s founder and first Master Blender Shinjiro Torii helped found and build the Yamizaki Distillery. Torii had originally made inquiries for a “whisky expert” in Scotland but was told he already had one back home. The pair worked closely together to construct the Yamazaki Distillery but when their first whisky hit the market the Suntory Shirofuda was a massive dud. At the time blame was placed on the Japanese drinkers preference for lighter, blended whiskies as wells as Takesuru’s refusal to budge on doing things the ‘Scottish way.” Taketsuru was shunted away from the distillery he helped build over to a beer factory where he served out the remainder of his 10-year contract.

In 1934, finding himself free to pursue his own goals again, Taketsuru formed the Dainnippon Kajuu, Co. which roughly translates to ‘Great Japan Fruit Juice Company’ and while everyone was expecting him to make apple juice he constructed the Yoichi Distillery in Hokkaido.

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Hokkaido was chosen because its climate reminded Takesuru so strongly of Scotland. It also gave him easy access to barley and peat and in 1940, despite the ensuing war, he released the first bottles of Nikka Whiskey. Unfortunately, the war caused all whisky to be labeled as a commodity critical to national defense and Taketsuru spent the rest of the war making cheap military ration whiskey for the troops. Another setback, but one that allowed the distillery to survive where many did not.

The company officially changed its name to the Nikka Whisky Distilling Co. in 1952 and quickly became the second largest producer of Japanese whisky, building a second distillery in Miyagikyo in 1969 and nipping at the heels of Taketsuru’s old employer’s and Suntory creating a lasting rivalry. That rivalry has in many ways led to the quality of product that is being seen in Japanese Whisky today.

But success has led to its own issues. Both Nikka and Suntory have been unable to keep up with global demand for whisky that was once merely the dream of a single man. Products that brought them to the international stage have lost their age statements or disappeared entirely.

It used to be said that if you truly wanted to get to the heart of the Suntory style you should drink Hibiki 17 and likewise if you wanted to get to the heart of Nikka pour yourself a dram of the Yoichi 15 Year single malt. Well, the former is now a unicorn of price and supply and the latter has been discontinued and replaced with a Non-Age Statement bottle simply called “Yoichi Single Malt.”

The pot stills at Yoichi are direct coal heated which are temperamental at best and the Yoichi style has always been at least slightly peated. The result is an aromatic nose that lets the smoke roll out of the glass. There’s a touch of sea salt and soot with citrus oils. On the palette the plum and apples lead, followed quickly by a salty, smoky tang reminiscent of a cold fire on a night time beach before being washed with a long, luxurious finish with the smoke becoming more savory.

It’s an elegant whisky but it doesn’t match up to the 15 year. There’s an element of time that can’t be replaced. This new Yoichi is aggressive where the old 15 year was confident and that’s a fine distinction at times.

This doesn’t mean it’s a bad whisky. It’s different. It’s a change. It’s another step in the evolution of an industry that is really just coming into its own, no matter how much tradition and expertise it draws on. And it’s a reminder that nothing, not even your 200 year old family whisky recipe, is permanent. So grab a glass, pour a dram, and contemplate the ephemeral nature of life while you can.

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Whiskey Wednesday: Baller American Single Malt

It’s a distinctly American thing to look at a creation of another group or country and say, “Yeah, I can do that.” We’re big fans of adopting ideas from others, filtering through our own cultural lens, and then exporting those back to the rest of the world. The cocktail is just that, and even our quintessentially American Bourbon whiskey has its roots in immigrant traditions being adapted to our local grain sources.

And it’s hard to scream about cultural appropriation of Japanese Whisky when Masataka Taketsuru lifted the blueprint straight from Scotch makers, even going so far as to be told he was to dogmatic about doing things “the Scottish way.’ But adapting and borrowing is exactly what St. George is doing with their Baller Single Malt Whiskey. And they’re totally aware of it. Distiller Lance Winters honestly describes the Baller as “a California take on the Japanese spin on Scotch whisky.” A California take on old world traditions is kind of the St. George trademark.

Jorg Rupf founded St. George Spirits as an eau de vie distillery in 1982 and in the 35 years since then has developed a massive reputation for quality and experimentation. download-1.jpgAlthough the eau de vies are still a major part of the distillery, the portfolio has expanded to include such wide sprawling products as a California Agricole Rum, an Absinthe Verte (which became the first commercially available American Absinthe after the lifting of the 1912 ban), as well as numerous gins and the Hangar One vodkas which were sold to Proximo in 2010.  St. George first entered the whiskey game in 1996 when Jorg hired Lance Winters, a former nuclear scientist and brewer, for a one-month trial. Twenty years later Lance is still experimenting and Jorg is delightfully retired.

The following year, Jorg and Lance began distilling Single Malt Whiskey which had its first release in 2000. Back then no one knew would to do with a Scotch-style American made whiskey. Fast forward 17 years to Lot 16 of the Single Malt and drinkers are almost as confused as to what to do with an American Single Malt but the tide seems to be turning.

Distilleries around the country formed the American Single Malt Commission in 2016 with the goal to “establish, promote, and protect the category of American Single download.jpgMalt Whiskey.” Technically, according to the American government there is no legal definition of what constitutes an ”American Single Malt.” However, this lack of consensus didn’t stop drink giant Remy Cointreau from purchasing the American Malt makers at Westland Distillery in December of 2016. Whether that speaks to a growing awareness of the category, or to an international audience more familiar and accepting of products labeled “Single Malt” remains to be seen.

The uncertainty also hasn’t stopped the whiskey from winning awards either. Both the Westland Malts and the St. George Malt are some of most awarded American Whiskies, with the St. George Malt even appearing in 1001 Whiskies You Must Taste Before You Die as what “might just be the best U.S. single malt available today.” But again, with the category being what it is that’s very nebulous praise.

People are clearly drinking it, and even reveling in the experimentation that this grey category has. And the St. George Baller is a prime example of this experimentation.

Distilled from 100% American barley and distilled on the eau de vie pot stills it is then aged for 3-4 years in ex-Bourbon and French oak wine casks. The whiskey is then filtered through maple charcoal and finished in casks used to aged St. George’s house made umeshu. Umeshu is a Japanese style of plum liqueur, and St. George being St. George they make their own in house entirely from California grown ume. About 1,600 bottles were released in 2016 with about the same on track for a 2017 release. It’s California identity clearly shines through, especially with it being a California only release. It’s certainly intellectually interesting.

The whiskey itself is bottled at 94 proof. The plum is incredibly noticeable on the nose with a touch of white pepper leading into a crisp, sharp taste on the palette with a massive dose of white pepper and spice before finishing with a fruitiness and the expected chocolaty, malt sweetness. Japanese whisky this ain’t. It’s more aggressive and while it’s certainly layered the edges are sharp and noticeable. It does really open up with the addition of water, which is what its makers had in mind. They designed this with whiskey highballs in mind, hence the name baller, which is yet another thing they have in common with their Japanese inspiration.

In the end, I think its label, which features the legend of St. George reimagined as a samurai based on an original watercolor made to emulate a woodcut style, best sums up this whiskey. It is an old tradition reimagined through multiple cultural lenses, that is artistically appealing but weather it’s a style that bears fruit is yet to be seen.

Whiskey Wednesday: Ichiro’s Global Plan

If the Yamazaki and Suntory represent the old school powers that be in Japanese Whisky, than the Chichibu and Ichiro Akuto represent the new guard.

The Chichibu Distillery is the brainchild of Ichiro Akuto and began operations in February of 2008. It sits just outside of Chichibu City about 100km north-west of Tokyo. And while the distillery is certainly a newcomer to the Japanese whisky scene Ichiro Akuto is anything but.

$.jpgWhere most of the master blenders and distillers in the Japanese whisky world are rather unassuming and reserved, every interview and Google search for Ichiro is required to use the word ‘rock star’ to describe him. The Akuto family had been making sake in Chichibu since 1626 and transitioned into the sochu and whisky world in 1941 when Ichiro’s grandfather opened the Hanyu distillery. The distillery ended up enjoying considerable success during Japan’s postwar whisky boom.

But as so many of these stories go the 90’s were incredibly unkind to brown spirits and the Hanyu distillery closed in 2000. With the distillery now closed and so little of the produced whisky being sold some hyper aged, delicious, and eventually legendary whisky was about to be bottled.

With  Hanyu whisky now a nonrenewable resource Ichiro began releasing the“Playing Card” series in 2005 with the release of the “King of Diamonds.” ichiros-malt-cards.jpgNearly 10 years later there was a complete deck of 52 “Cards” complete with two Jokers. According to interviews Ichiro never meant to release a complete deck. The idea was to originally release four single casks and working with a friend of his, who was also a designer, they struck upon the idea that playing cards had four suits, and so a legend was born.(A legend that sold as a complete set at auction in 2015 for $400,000.) Not as impressive as the individual bottle price of the Yamazaki 50 but still amazing for a collection of whisky that was so unwanted a mere 15 before the sale that the distillery that produced it had shuttered its doors.

The quality and care that went into these bottlings was evident but the supply was clearly limited. So, Ichiro took the funds from those early Playing Card releases and established the new Chichibu Distillery to rebuild his stock. And again he dove into tradition to establish his style. The staff routinely flies to Scotland to learn skills like floor malting, which they’re now doing onsite at Chichibu. They’re also doing their own cooperage on site. Once a year, Ichiro would take his staff to learn from one of two independent coopers in Japan. When the 86 year old cooper, who had no successor, decided to close the cooperage Ichiro purchased all of the machinery and set it up on site at Chichibu. But none of this would mean anything if the whisky was lacking and the bar was certainly set high with the Playing Card series.

food_liquiddiet4.jpgThe first Chichibu whisky debuted in 2011, a mere three years after the distillery started operation. Adding to his ‘Whisky Rock God’ persona every bottle that rolls out of Chichibu is labeled as an “Ichiro’s Malt Chichibu” with a sub name describing the release. This first release is appropriately dubbed, “The First”, and the whisky was aged in a combination of ex-Bourbon and Japanese Mizunara oak. Only 2,040 bottles were made available and it cemented Ichiro, and Chichibu, as a major player not just in the history of Japanese Whisky but also in its future. I remember drinking this whisky and being blown away by the delicacy and elegance it presented at a mere three years and at 118 proof. There were nectarines, vanilla, a touch of cinnamon as well as an earthiness, and green apple that fed into the maltiness.

From there Ichiro has moved on to more, I wouldn’t say standard, but more consistent releases. The flagships being “The Peated” utilizing, you guessed it, peated malt, then “The Floor Malting” making use of the afore mentioned on site floor malting, and finally the “On The Way” which is a blend of Chichibu Malts of various years that is ‘on the way’ to Ichiro’s goal of being able to consistently release a 5 year old malt. Which is already being replaced by his goal of being able to produce at 10 and 20 year old malt.

The Ichiro’s Malts show remarkable variety for such a young distillery but they do have a few things in common: a large price tag and limited availability. When you’re looking to introduce people to your brand and expand your clientele few things are larger roadblocks that price and availability. So what’s a young, hip distillery to do to expand stock?

Traditionally malt makers turn to blended whiskies. A small percentage of single malt whiskies blended with grain whisky, light column still whisky made of whatever grain is cheapest. It produces a lighter style whisky and while the Whisky Drinking Elite will turn their noses up at blended whisky this style still rules the Whisky Drinking World. But Ichiro’s Chichibu decided to go another route.

In an effort to produce what he calls, ‘an all world whisky’ Ichiro has built a whisky with a base of Chichibu Malt whisky blended with selections of whiskies from Scotland, Ireland, Canada, and America. All of these world whiskies styles are aged in their country of origin for 3-5 years before receiving an additional 1-3 years of aging on site at Chichibu.

The exact proportions and original distilleries for these other whiskies are kept under wraps but the result is an incredibly intriguing bottle, and not just intellectually speaking.

The nose has a surprising amount of citrus with apricot, meyer lemon, and a touch of 20170801_150840-02-01.jpegorange weaving through a light sweetness which leads into a large roasted nut, vanilla, white pepper feel, then a touch of tobacco and gingerbread on the tongue that leaves dried tropical fruit and vanilla as it disappears into a medium length finish.

This is the kind of innovation that intrigues me. It approaches an old problem in a new way and manages to produce something that I truly have not encountered before. For something that sounds like it could so easily devolve into a massively muddled mess it manages to hold on to that elegance and refinement that Ichiro’s bottles have become known for. And it’s affordable… by Chichibu standards at least. With a retail price of about $100 I can’t quit say it’s solved the approach-ability in terms of price. But on the flip side compared to many Compass Box releases it’s practically a steal.

In the end Ichiro Akuto and Chichibu represent a new paradigm in the whisky world. Drawing from tradition and past experience to produce something incredibly modern and specific while, hopefully, building towards the future. I just hope that all this innovation and quality eventually allows prices on many of these future whiskies to come back down. So that whiskey world doesn’t become the domain and hobby of just a select few but allows anyone who’s interested to dip their tongue into something more unusual without having to worry about selling their car to afford a bottle.