"Bourbon Whiskey" by Katie Spence on Flickr

David Driscoll, the spirits buyer at K&L Wine Merchants in Redwood City, just posted a good list of “Quick Facts” about Bourbon Whiskey, along with brief profiles of a few distilleries. It’s not a comprehensive overview or introduction – he doesn’t claim it is – but it’s worth bookmarking as a reference.

I’ve conducted several “guest lectures” like the one for which David created these notes. If I were in his shoes, I might augment them as follows.

1. David writes the following:

Jack Daniels and George Dickel are NOT bourbons.  They are technically Tennessee Whiskies because …

And he’s of course correct. But while the people at his tasting should definitely know that there’s a distinction, I would add that the difference is more a geographical curiosity than “flavorfully meaningful”.

Yes, there’s an extra step applied to the making of Tennessee Whiskey, but it probably doesn’t affect the flavor. No less an authority than Chuck Cowdery is skeptical of the difference – he makes the point in a blog post here:

People will sometimes get all high-and-mighty about how Jack Daniel’s isn’t a bourbon, and it isn’t, but as a practical matter the difference is merely technical. For all intents and purposes, Jack Daniel’s and George Dickel are bourbon in all but name. If they taste different, it is because each maker crafts a slightly different flavor. Those differences in flavor have nothing to do with them being a different type.

Insisting on the distinction between Bourbon Whiskey and Tennessee Whiskey can quickly make whiskey seem inaccessible, turning off newcomers. It’s interesting as a footnote, but not important to the flavor of the whiskey.

2. Speaking of which, David does not explicitly touch on a question that always arises at these events: how does bourbon differ from Scotch?

Here are a few ways, in increasing order of importance:

• Most bourbons spell “whiskey” with an “e” before the “y”, a distinction no one should care about (see: annoying snobbery).
• Nor should anyone care much about the difference in type of still. Bourbon is made in a column still, while malt Scotch comes a much older-fashioned pot still. The former is also called a “continuous still,” because it never stops running – much more efficient than a pot still, which goes one batch at a time. Some folks think the pot still inherently grants more or different flavor, but I suspect it’s not as much about the still, just how you use it. (The photo in this post shows a barrel stencil at Woodford Reserve, the only bourbon distillery I’m aware of to use pot stills for some of its whiskey.)
• The barrel, new charred for bourbon vs. a wider variety of reused barrels for Scotch, does have a big impact on flavor.
• But the biggest difference in flavor comes from the base grain, corn in bourbon vs. barley in malt Scotch.

The best way to learn the difference is just to drink a bunch of different whiskies. Why not start with a bourbon?

• Bourbon Review, by David Driscoll
• Tennessee Whiskey vs. Bourbon Whiskey, by Chuck Cowdery
• Tennesse Whiskey and Protection as a Geographic Indication
• Favorite Budget Bourbons, by Ethan Prater

Going back a few years, in late 2005 big Kentucky distiller Heaven Hill released Bernheim Original Wheat Whiskey, which they (now incorrectly) call “The Only American Wheat Whiskey.” (I have a bottle somewhere back in the bunker, but couldn’t easily find it to compare to the Dry Fly.)

More recently Death’s Door Distillery in Madison, WI, has released another 100% wheat whiskey (actually an unaged moonshine-style) called “White Whiskey.” (My review of the Death’s Door is here.) Like Death Door’s, Dry Fly’s is a totally local product – it uses only winter wheat “sourced from within Washington State.”

As of this writing there have been only two releases of Dry Fly Whiskey, both quite sensationally oversubscribed. Retailers in the Spokane era saw lines around the block on the release days, and were forced to ration bottles to make sure as many people as possible could get them. I asked my Spokane friends to get me a bottle of Batch One, but they were either rationed from getting an extra for a friend, or showed up at the store at lunchtime when everything was already sold out.

Fortunately the intrepid David Driscoll of local Redwood City retailer K&L Wine Merchants sourced a few bottles of Batch Two last month, and I got one for $52.99.

Immaculate packaging – a squat, broad-shouldered transparent bottle with a foil cap and cork stopper. The Dry Fly logo is silk-screened, but the rest is an adhesive label (presumably this is the same bottle used for Dry Fly’s very popular gin and vodka).

I believe this whiskey is aged in fresh charred oak for two years, lending the liquid a color of clear light brown or even an attractively burnt orange. It smells sweet – that’s the wheat talking – with a tiny hint of barrel char.

The flavor is very nicely integrated – predominantly sweet vanilla, maybe some toffee and mellow mushy fruit. A very easy-drinking whiskey, though with just a touch of unexpected burn on the back of the throat (and it’s bottled only at 40% abv – helpful to squeeze more bottles out of limited production, but not to get the most flavor from this very gentle distillate). Without any other grains in the mash, you get none of the spice typical of bourbon or rye whiskey. A nicely lengthy finish, given the young age.

Dry Fly Wheat Whiskey has a very nice round flavor – it’s sweet and simple without any hidden complexity. Which is fine – this would be a good sipper on a warm afternoon or an excellent cocktail base.

I’m loath to make generalizations about 100% wheat whiskey having tried just three (Bernheim, Death’s Door, and Dry Fly), but I wonder if some corn, barley, or rye would add some needed complexity to the final spirit. The simplicity here feels a bit like tasting a component of something larger (to be fair, what I think of many single malt Scotches).

Anyway, if I gave scores, I would Dry Fly’s Whiskey (Batch Two) 84/100. Who knows what it might grow into with more time in the barrel?

(My blog includes ruminations on all sorts of unrelated topics. You can find just the whisky posts here.)

I first heard about this obscure Midwestern whiskey on Mark Gillespie’s excellent WhiskyCast. I expected never to see it in California, but on Friday I eagerly grabbed it off the shelf at Cask, San Francisco’s best spirits shop. Price was $39.99.

All-wheat whiskies are becoming quite the trend. In late 2005 Heaven Hill released Bernheim Original Wheat Whiskey, which they still incorrectly call “The Only American Wheat Whiskey.” (I have a bottle somewhere back in the bunker, but couldn’t easily find it to compare to this Death’s Door.) More recently Dry Fly Distilling in Spokane, WA, has released another 100% wheat whiskey called, simply enough, “Dry Fly Washington Wheat Whiskey.” (My review of the Dry Fly is here.) Like Dry Fly’s, Death’s Door is a local product – it uses only winter wheat “from Washington Island, Door County, Wisconsin.”

The Death’s Door packaging is as bare-bones as it gets. Two crude transparent labels on an absolutely clear bottle, highlighting the absolutely clear (that is, no color at all) liquid within. Sealed with foil and a cork stopper. The distillers barely even mention their whiskey on their web site, which focuses on their better-established gin and vodka.

But though it’s clear, this whiskey is not flavorless like a vodka – it has all the silky sweetness characteristic of pure white dog, probably emphasized by the wheat. It’s a little hot in the middle, more than you might expect from a 40% drink that starts and finishes with such mellowness. There are hints of banana, the ester that indicates a young spirit. Apparently the distillers put this whiskey in oak barrels for a couple of days before bottling it – not enough time to add any color or wood flavor, but perhaps helping to add some roundness. Also like white dog, the finish vanishes quickly and cleanly – a sort of instant evaporation from the tongue, before it has time to make its way down your throat.

I’m guessing that Death’s Door does not intend to make the White Whiskey a flagship product – that they’ll age it for several years and release their whiskey in a more conventional format. I can see making a nice cocktail from Death’s Door White Whiskey, but given the alternatives – even those costing half as much – you wouldn’t want to make this your late-evening contemplative sipper. (If I gave ratings, I would give Death’s Door White Whiskey a 76/100 – but it’s not trying to be a “real” whiskey, rather a way for you to taste fresh spirit, and for that I’m quite glad.)

Links to more information on Death’s Door White Whiskey:

• Distillery web site
• Review on “American Hooch”
• Conversation on StraightBourbon.com

(My blog includes ruminations on all sorts of unrelated topics. You can find just the whisky posts here.)

Scotch whisky – when served neat, with water, or on the rocks – often comes in a “rocks glass”, sort of a low straight-edged tumbler. This serving style is fine with me, though it lacks pizazz. Some argue that rocks glasses give short shrift to the whisky’s aroma, too.

The recent crop of glasses designed specifically for Scotch, including Riedel’s (introduced in 1992), tend to be tulip-shaped – like what whisky makers use when nosing samples to make blends. The Glencairn Glass (introduced in 2001) and CelticMalts Spirits Glass (introduced in 2003) also follow this design.

Riedel’s “O” Chardonnay glass is more of a snifter. Somehow it makes drinking Scotch feel elegant but not pretentious. The glass is thin enough to put the focus on the liquid inside, but not so fragile that you feel like you can crush it with your hand (something I’ve done to Riedel’s more costly Vinum Whiskey Glass). I suspect some people would argue that the bowl and opening of this glass are too large to properly focus the aromas of the whisky – those folks might look at some of the narrower “O” series glasses, including the new Spirits Glass in the line. I personally find all but the dedicated Chardonnay glass too closed at the top, hard to get a good solid drink from. This warning goes for the one they call Viognier-Chardonnay “O” glass, so be careful what you order – I like that one, but I much prefer the bigger, rounder Chardonnay-specific glass.

Note that I have not tried this glass for mixed drinks. I suspect you’re better off sticking with traditional shapes for cocktails. And I don’t like the O Chardonnay glass for bourbon. Not sure why, but somehow bourbon tastes better to me out of a thicker tumbler.

As of this writing, it seems Riedel’s O Chardonnay Glass is generally sold in boxes of two for $24.95. Not cheap, but still good value for the quality you get.

(I owe a debt of a gratitude to the “real” whisky Ethan - Ethan Kelley, the founding Spirit Sommelier of New York’s wonderful Brandy Library. Ethan chose this glass as the Brandy Library’s standard for serving Scotch. He introduced me to it when they opened in 2004, and as of April 2010  it remains the standard at this peerless whisky bar.)

Pros of the Riedel “O” Chardonnay tumbler:

• Easy to find in stores
• Dishwasher safe
• Not so costly you’ll cringe when one breaks
• Nicely thin but not fragile

Cons:

• Shows fingerprints easily
• Not inexpensive ($10-15 each)
• Suitable for home only – don’t take it camping or to the beach!

Hakushu is produced by Suntory, the same conglomerate responsible for the better-known (and wonderful-in-its-own-right) Yamazaki single malt whisky brand. As of this writing, Yamazaki is the only Japanese single malt whisky exported to the USA – which means you won’t find Hakushu on the shelves in this country. (Suntory just started bringing us Hibiki, their best-known blended whisky, so some American whisky enthusiasts hope Hakushu will be next.)

While in Japan, I tried Hakushu in at least three different expressions: 10, 12, and 18 year old. At the time I preferred the 18, but the 12 year old was much more affordable and still great. So that’s what I brought home with me and opened this past week.

And boy, am I glad I did. Hakushu 12 Year Old is a wonderfully integrated tour of almost every flavor possible in a (Scotch-style) single malt whisky. You get pure malted barley, yeastiness, slight vanilla oak, some fresh flowers and grass, slight honey, and yes, more than a hint of peat. Hakushu is generally quite lean, verging on skeletal or clinical in how it presents itself. But it’s courageous. No tricks, nothing hiding behind too much wood, too much sherry, or too much smoke. With a plenitude of flavors in absolutely perfect balance and a texture just thick enough to hold it all together (but no thicker), Hakushu is elegant but not light, full but not oily, clean but not enervated.

What’s more, Hakushu’s distinct peat is not thick or heavy. While those familiar with Scotch might rightly compare Hakushu with Scotland’s island styles, Hakushu lacks the iodine character of a Laphroaig and the fusel oil texture of an Ardbeg. Hakushu’s peat smoke is less aggressive even than Bowmore’s, less peppery than Talisker’s, and less masked by wood or sherry than Highland Park’s. To my mind, Hakushu is an ideal way to discover peat flavor for the first time.

The late Michael Jackson (the much-loved beer and whisky critic, not the ex-husband of Priscilla Presley) once called Scotland’s Highland Park “the greatest all-rounder in the world of malt whisky,” but Hakushu gives Highland Park a run for its money.

If you would like to try Hakushu in the USA, then you’ll have to find an enterprising local bar manager, order from one of the more liberal British retailers or pick it up on a trip overseas. Don’t overpay – I would start getting skittish around eighty bucks, would skip it at a hundred – but do go out of your way to track it down. Hakushu is that good.

Following are my favorite American whiskies that can be found for under $20 per 750ml bottle. Prices listed are current on the linked retailers’ web sites as of 15-December-2009. (By the way, WordPress’ thumbnail creator is cruel, chopping off lots of the images – if you click on them, you can browse the full labels and photos in all their glory.)

• Jim Beam Black Label (bourbon, $16.99)

  Jim Beam Black is one of my favorite bourbons at any price. Vastly better than the standard white label stuff. Big and rich tasting, but relatively little alcohol burn given its quite assertive character. In fact I think this whiskey might be from the same batches used for Booker’s – another favorite of mine – though in this case they make sure it’s least eight years old (+), dilute it down to 86 proof (-) and filter it (-). So what? Jim Beam Black is not just good – it’s great.

• Rittenhouse Rye Bottled in Bond (rye, $19.99)

  The world has found out about this great whiskey bargain, so the producers and distributors have kicked up its price from $12 a few years ago to over $20 in some markets. Oh well – Rittenhouse Rye 100 proof Bottled in Bond is still the best rye for the money available today. And it’s a nice introduction to the style generally. Rittenhouse BIB showcases the unique spiciness and fruitiness of rye grain without becoming edgy like some of its competitors. Drinks beautifully on its own, but also makes a wonderful cocktail. (Be careful not to confuse this with the 80 proof Rittenhouse Rye, with the tan label. I’ve compared them only once, but much preferred the 100 proof version, which is worth the extra couple of bucks over its little brother.)

• Very Old Barton Bottled in Bond (bourbon, $12.99)

  I love this hard-to-find bourbon so much that I wrote an entire blog post about it here. What are you waiting for? If Binny’s will ship to your state, call them up (or click on the price above) and have them send you a bottle. Even with shipping costs you’re still well under $20 to try this gem.

• Elijah Craig 12 Year Old (bourbon, $19.99)

  Sigh – another one whose price has skyrocketed in the past few years. I remember buying Elijah Craig for just $11.99 in 2002 – in New York City, even! Now it’s very hard to find under $20, though still not overpriced if you like its idiosyncratic flavor. Elijah Craig shares with many of its fellow Heaven Hill bourbons a minty overtone that I often like (but occasionally loathe). Your mileage will also vary, but at this price the risk is low.

  With Elijah Craig 12 Year Old you also get some nice oaky tastes uncommon in younger, less expensive bourbons. The distillery that used to make Elijah Craig burned down some years ago, so the current bottlings come from a different distillery (owned by the same company, using the same recipe and warehouses). Of course various Internet conspiracy theorists and curmudgeons claim the older stuff was better, but I’ve no idea how to tell from the label which distillery a particular bottle came from. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Beautiful bottle and cork stopper (the only whiskey on this page I would recommend giving as a gift), distinctive taste, still nicely- though not super-bargainly-priced.

Don’t forget, you can click these images to get a better sense of what each label or bottle looks like.

And a few runners-up in the category:

• Old Grand-Dad Bonded Bourbon (bourbon, $19.99)

  An unabashedly rye-heavy bourbon made by Jim Beam. Old Grand-Dad Bonded (like all bonded bourbons, this is 100 proof) tastes wonderful to me – full of grain, confident in its old-school personality. But the texture is just a little too thin for it to make my top list in this price range. The Old Grand-Dad 114 is much richer on the palate (and comes in a fancier bottle), but sells for 25% more.

• Bulleit Bourbon Frontier Whiskey (bourbon, $21.99)

  Diageo’s answer to Beam’s Knob Creek brand. I much prefer Bulleit to its hipster competitor. Though the (excellent) packaging implies this is a rough-and-tumble whiskey, it’s actually quite gentle. Floral, with lots of the fruit that I associate with rye-heavy bourbons. Listed as a runner-up only because I can’t find it consistently under $20 (sometimes dips to ~$18 in California when there’s a mega-sale on).

• Jim Beam Rye (rye, $14.99)

  With its former bright yellow label and super-low price, Jim Beam Rye was the sort of thing you might skip over at the corner bodega. But you would have been wrong – in its day this stuff was downright great. Meaty, sizzling, in your face (in a good way). Unfortunately this whiskey seems to have fallen on hard times in recent years. Even before Beam switched to the gentler beige label shown here, I tasted several bottles that were too young. Lots of banana esters and other immature unpleasantness, though with an overall reticence unbecoming of this former muscleman. Still, if you’re on a dark street corner and the shady liquor shop has Jim Beam Rye, then it’s worth taking a chance on.

• Old Overholt Straight Rye Whiskey (rye, $14.99)

  Another Jim Beam product, Old Overholt seems pretty much synonymous with rye whiskey in every bar. It is absolutely fine for a Manhattan or Old Fashioned – preferable to even high-end bourbons in those particular drinks. I’ve tried it neat only a couple of times, but found the finish too quick. So while I wouldn’t recommend it on its own, you shouldn’t hesitate to try it as the base of your cocktails.

(Side note: earlier in 2009, John Hansell of Malt Advocate started a couple of good conversations about whiskey prices and high-value whiskies on his blog here and here.)

My blog includes posts on all sorts of unrelated topics. You can find just the whisky posts here.

Early last year I was inspired by a post on Chuck Cowdery’s blog to revisit this limited-distribution budget-priced bourbon. I had purchased a bottle in Kentucky in Summer 2002 and loved it.

My 2008 bottles did not disappoint. I ordered a few from Binny’s in Chicago, where it was then priced at $11.99/bottle (it has since risen to $12.99, still a steal, even when you add shipping costs). I just finished a second bottle and am delighted that I still have one in the archive. (I believe Very Old Barton is distributed only in the Midwest. Certainly not in California. So online ordering is your best bet.)

Note that we’re talking about the 100 proof version. Very Old Barton is also bottled at strengths of 80, 86 and 90 proof, none of which I’ve tried. The lower-proof versions aren’t designated “Bottled in Bond”, a vanishing and somewhat restrictive category that essentially states the whiskey comes from a single “vintage” and is 50% alcohol by volume (100 proof).  I’ve heard that the 100 proof version will lose its BIB status sometime soon, but Chuck states in the post linked above that the flavor profile should not change, at least in the short term.

Anyway, this bourbon is beautiful. Full-flavored without being a monster – you could still mix it if you like. VOB BIB’s unique characteristics are of banana and mint, though these flavors don’t dominate. Maybe a tiny bit of butter, though the texture is overall dry. You can taste the barrel influence with oak and vanilla, though again, neither dominates. The finish doesn’t go on forever, but that’s fine – no reason that you need to be still drinking your bourbon an hour after you’ve swallowed it.

I won’t go on, either. At this price, there’s no reason you shouldn’t just buy a bottle and try it yourself.  If I owned a bar, this would be my well bourbon.

Keep an eye out for the “Bottled in Bond” designation above the brand name. Again, that’s not necessarily an indication of quality – I’m just curious whether it has  been deprecated. The company’s web site shows a label where that’s replaced with just “Hand Crafted” on the 100 proof bottle – let me know in the comments which label you find.

• Chuck Cowdery’s April 2008 post mentioning Very Old Barton Bottled in Bond 100 proof Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey
• Binny’s listing for this whiskey

(My blog includes post on a wide variety of topics. You can find and subscribe just to posts on whisky or other adult beverages via the links in the right column.)

However, the menu at the Yamazaki tasting room (“Whisky Library”) contains hundreds (thousands?) of other Suntory whiskies, including the sublime Hakushu, which I will review here shortly.

One of the best distillery tours offered in any country – absolutely worth going out of your way for.

Unfortunately my photos are not of the best quality, but they should give you some feel of the experience. I always suggest viewing the Flickr slideshow here, but you can get a feel for the photos from the gallery below.