...is becoming one of those spirits that engenders a passionate following. Maybe not a fanatic, over-zealous one like Scotch, but, increasingly, people are starting to care what's in their glass, and starting to appreciate that America is making some seriously quality drink.Anyone in the "industry" (read, bartenders) will roll their eyes at this. But the truth remains that statistically zero of this country's drinkers are quaffing Parker's Heritage. Jack Daniel's sold 11 million cases last year, though. Just saying.
But there are dedicated producers committed to bringing American whiskey into it's own. Superstar distillers have been stepping forward to create innovative, unique and notable liquor, stuff that can stand up to anything made in Scotland. And they've been doing it for over 10 years.
So, now that we know America can produce a fantastic product, it was inevitable that the certain portion of the populace who is concerned with such things would flock to so-called "craft" whiskeys. It is easy to disparage hipsters, "mixologists", whiskey snobs and the like, but remember that these are the same tastemakers that blasted American craft brewing into the stratosphere 20 years ago. They may be easy targets, but they do get the rest of us thinking, and drinking. As a result, the number of small and micro-distilleries producing whiskey has exploded.
Many of the people driving this trend are very concerned with authenticity. They're the people who use words like "curate" and "artisanal" to describe the contents of their back bar. They want to know that the whiskey they're drinking has been blended with water from the Blue Ridge Mountains, created with grain grown on a small plot of rye in hardy Vermont. So, when concerns arise about what is actually IN the glass, eyebrows are raised.
Back in the day, there was one way to make whiskey: You took your grain spirit (corn, rye, barley, whatever), threw it in a barrel of some kind, and let it sit there. You might move it around a little, taste it, replace the wood, but essentially, it just sat. For years. And years. And years. And when you were done, you pulled it out, and hoped against hope that you could actually stick it in your gob without grimacing. While you were waiting for all this stuff to get ready, though? You still had to make a living. So you made gin. Or rum. Or vodka. And crossed your fingers that you could make ends meet for long enough to let your whiskey mature.
That's what Spirit Hound in Lyons, Colorado did. They made the best quality spirits they could (and their gin is truly excellent) while their casks matured. And then...they got hit by a flood. In all seriousness, that has got to SUCK. But they're coming back, all by their own hand. It would have been easy to take the easy way out.
But waiting is so haaaaaard. We want to sell whiskey now! We want to cash in on this American whiskey explosion! So...maybe we should find someone who can do all the hard stuff for us.
There has been some not-inconsiderable kerfuffle lately about the "revelation" that many craft distillers are using bulk whiskey products out of Indiana. There was a story on NPR today, even, echoing an article from the Daily Beast wherein "the worst kept secret" in the distilling world was revealed: Many of the top artisan whiskey brands are, in fact, not artisanal at all. They are created, distilled and aged in a ridiculously massive complex in Lawrenceburg, IN.
Anything from a macro...well, anything, has got to be bad, right? Mass-produced "craft" whiskey? You've got to be kidding me.
But here's the thing: Whiskey from the Indiana facility (Midwest Grain Products, or MGP) isn't bad. In many cases, it's excellent. And rarely, as is the case with Angel's Envy Rye (aged in Caribbean rum casks) and some of the High West (from Park City, UT) products, it's spectacular. But what's its not, often, is authentic, or at least true to what it's saying about itself. When you pick up a bottle of Bulleit Rye, the label says it is made in Indiana. Honest. However...
Near and dear to our hearts in Colorado is Tincup. Created by Jess Graber, the guy behind local pride Stranahan's, the website is awash in discussions of Rocky Mountain water, flowing grains and vistas of our high peaks. The bottle is lovely, coming, a la Stranahan's, with an eponymous rustic tin drinking cup. The vessel mentions Colorado no fewer than seven times. As someone who makes a point of drinking local if possible, I'm reaching for this stuff.
Except that it's made in Indiana, too.
I don't particularly like Tincup. I don't think it's special; it tastes thin and sharp to me. But I'll fully admit that my taste is not everyone's, so I'd not drink it and let the whole thing slide. Except that the advertising, the representation, the image is so egregiously wrong, deceptive and insulting to the Colorado consumer it drives me crazy. It could be the best whiskey in the state (or another state, as it is) and I could not recommend it in good conscience. And I don't.
The idea that this is the "worst-kept secret" is one that reflects the industry view, the alcohol enthusiasts' knowledge. Did I know that Tincup was made in Indiana (along with many others; there's a link to an excellent site with a list below)? Sure I did. Do I expect the person spending $75 for a bottle of Whistle Pig Farms authentic Vermont rye whiskey to know it's made in Canada? No, I sure don't.
I've been to a lot of distilleries, and I've seen what goes into making the product. It's science, it's art, and it's something that people pour their heart and soul into. And to my mind, if you are making your product here, if you're living in the community and raising the profile of the state, you should get recognized for it. And not overshadowed by distillers who are, frankly, lazy.
So, what to do? There are plenty of companies in the state making a quality product. To my mind, two of the best are Peach Street, making a fantastic, rich, bourbon out of Pailsade, CO; and Leopold Bros. in Denver, who make...pretty much everything. Their Maryland Style Rye is a standout, with notes of raisins and caramel
All this controversy aside, American whiskey is going crazy, and this is just a distraction. In an upcoming post, I'll attempt to actually talk about some of my favorite products, regardless of where they come from.
Related articles:
The Daily Beast: Your ‘Craft’ Rye Whiskey Is Probably From a Factory Distillery in Indiana
OC Weekly: Where Your "Craft" Whiskey Is Distilled Is Essentially Unimportant
Sku's Recent Eats: The Complete List of American Whiskey Distilleries & Brands
Leopold Bros. Maryland Style Rye Whiskey
Product of Colorado
$45 at Applejack
Peach Street Colorado Straight Bourbon
Product of Colorado
$66 at Applejack
Spirit Hound Small Batch Gin
Product of Colorado
$36 at Applejack
Note: Two weeks ago, I attended Tales of the Cocktail in New Orleans. This gathering of alcohol people is a big deal, a huge gathering. And normally, I have a great time learning and tasting and making friends. This year, though, things were a bit...off. In my next post, I'll address what I saw, and try to find some meaning in it.
Note: At Tales of the Cocktail, once of the most significant things to happen to Colorado mixology in a long time happened. Sean Kenyon, proprietor of Williams & Graham, won American Bartender of the Year. As far as I know, this is the first award of this magnitude to come to the Centennial State. This starts to put Colorado on the map, cocktail-wise, and is one of those seminal events that can raise the profile of the entire city of Denver. Congratulations to Sean. Like him on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/seankenyon13 or follow him on Twitter @seankenyon
