Time was, Salvation Army types with tambourines and good intentions got the whole nation riled up and they actually passed a constitutional amendment against booze!
As a nation, we came to our senses in 1933 and realized that Prohibition was just dullsville, baby—plus, we’d been turning our backs on our heritage. We’re Americans; our Founding Fathers left respectable countries to grow demon tobacco and get filthy rich in a lawless country, perhaps enjoying a snort or two with their chattel-cum-mistresses.
In that vein, we caught up with Anthony Colasacco at Pour, who told us of a great event he has planned: An Evening of Aged Bourbon Whiskey, Tuesday, April 28, from 7 to 10 pm. These rarified corn distillations have been in the news lately, with some critics questioning the prices of small-batch bourbons. Most notably, James Rodewald, Drinks Editor at Gourmet, opines in this fascinating piece that while tiny batches of single-malt Scotch whiskey manifestly taste like they were handmade, industrially made American bourbon whiskies can be excellent without all the angst. He attributes the counter-intuitive, counter-snob quality of mass-made bourbon to the juju of Tennessee rickhouses, the storage buildings where barrel-aging occurs. Magically, the taller storage structures of large distilleries allow for wider temperature fluctuations, which, in turn, create more complex bourbon.
Is it true? Perhaps, though Rodewald pollutes his Makers Mark with an ice cube, making a quaff that seems rather downmarket for Gourmet. At the risk of any future employment at that prime venue, I’ll only say that, personally, I’m a fan of Tuthilltown Corn Whiskey and Baby Bourbon—though, at $40 per 375 ML half-bottle, both are quite dear. These frugal days I seem to be curling up around a finger or two of Basil Hayden’s, one of the four small-batch labels released by the corm whiskey mammoth Jim Beam. At about $35 to $40 per full-sized 750ML bottle, Hayden’s is about half the price of the Tuthilltown products. All three are small-batch distillations that I wouldn’t dare assault with an ice cube.
If you want to see what all the fuss is about without investing in a thousand-dollar home tasting, check out Pour, where Anthony will be serving A.H. Hirsh’s 16 Year Old Bourbon, whose single bottle retails for about $289.99 (if you can get it), A.H. Hirsh’s 28 Year Old, retailing for $350, Pappy Van Winkle’s Family Reserve 20 Year Old and 23 Year Old, which retail for about $129.99 and 219.99, respectively, and Black Maple Hill 21 Year Old, which retails for about $119.99. As usual, Anthony will be offering generous pours of each, and providing info, instruction, and graciousness. The evening costs $150 per person, which seems reasonable, given all the rare, pricy proofs on offer—and, even better, Pour now sells cigars. This means you can take your cheroot out on the porch, pop your boots on the railing, and overlook downtown Mount Kisco as if it were the rolling fields of your own private plantation.
The blog for insatiable Westchester diners.
Reader Comments:
Interesting to see that some of the corporate mammoths are producing reasonably good small batch bourbons -- it seems like a happier outcome than what happened when micro-breweries exploded onto the scene (and were soon followed by the giant beer makers' unpalatable ersatz-micro brews).
Julie,
I wish I'd seen this when it was posted. I'm glad you read my piece and found it interesting enough to write about. However, I do hope people actually click on the link (for as long as it remains up) because you made a couple of bizarre mistakes in trying to summarize it. I didn't say "while tiny batches of single-malt Scotch whiskey manifestly taste like they were handmade, industrially made American bourbon whiskies can be excellent without all the angst." The only mention of Scotch is when I say that small-batch bourbons, which come off industrial stills, "can be sublime, with all the complexity of a single-malt Scotch." The point is not that there is such a thing as a handmade taste (what does that mean?), or that Scotch causes angst (huh?), but that complexity is not a function of artisanal production when it comes to bourbon.
The next howler: "He attributes the counter-intuitive, counter-snob quality of mass-made bourbon to the juju of Tennessee rickhouses." I did no such thing. KENTUCKY is the main source of bourbon. I never mention Tennessee, though there are certainly some very nice Tennessee whiskies.
There are other small errors, and at least one odd disconnect: You like Tuthilltown corn and bourbon and think this will somehow disqualify you from a job at Gourmet (a moot point now that the magazine is no more). But I say in the piece that I love their corn. So why would you think this would count against you?
As for ice, saying it "pollutes" a drink is bizarre to me. Many, many people like their drams that way. Why judge? What about water? Absolutely critical for the enjoyment of a cask strength whiskey, don't you think? I generally put a splash of filtered water in anything that's over 80 proof (the exception being some very old spirits, which for some reason seem to fall apart). You are, of course, entitled to your opinion, and if you prefer your bourbon neat then that's how you should drink it, but being judgmental might result in someone turning down a cube or a splash and getting less pleasure out of their glass. Or, even worse, feeling like an idiot for liking it better with ice or water. As you can tell, I am offended by exclusivity and snobbishness, so I'm glad you were able to get that from the piece.
Best, James
Hi James,
I must admit that I'm honored that you read my piece, but since we're being persnicketty, my name is actually Julia. Inaccuracies like that are a problem with the instant, unedited nation of the blogosphere - little slips get by.
You got me on the Kentucky vs Tennessee rickhouses, but I didn't say that Scotch causes angst (if anything, it relieves it). I did try to suggest that Scotch's small, regional production facilities and distribution networks are more complicated than, say, getting Jim Beam to Keokuk Iowa. ("Angst" contains 5 letters - I'm on a strict space budget, I'm afraid.) True, I joked that my preference for Tuthilltown over Makers Mark might alienate me from the editors at Gourmet, since you - representing the magazine - came down so strongly in favor of the larger producer.(My sympathies, BTW, I've been a subscriber and reader since late adolescence). Notice that I also joked that American heritage was defined by "Founding Fathers [leaving] respectable countries to grow demon tobacco and get filthy rich in a lawless country, perhaps enjoying a snort or two with their chattel-cum-mistresses." I often exaggerate reality for laughs.
Personally, I don't like icy whiskey - I think frigid liquids anaesthetize the palate, and I'd prefer to taste the whiskey's complexity. So personally (and my blog is my opinion, after all) I think an ice cube is a "pollution" in a good bourbon. However, I said not a word about water - that seems to be something you inferred. (I actually prefer a splash as well.)
As I mentioned, I'm honored that you read my piece about Pour's bourbon tasting where I made reference to your fascinating piece in Gourmet. I'm sorry to took such strong exception to the five sentences that focus on your piece (and even sorrier that an editor at Gourmet got my name wrong) but I remain a fan and I know that I'll be following your work wherever you wind up.
Thanks for responding,
Julia
Julia,
Apologies for misspelling your name, but I think (I hope) you can see the difference between a private citizen and someone with a public forum (I'm not an editor at Gourmet anymore, but if I'd misspelled your name in the magazine or on gourmet.com, that would have been different).
It strikes me as disingenuous at best to hide behind the sloppiness of others. Little slips? Persnickety? You made mistakes, some larger than others (persnickety would be mentioning the typo in this sentence: "I'm sorry to took such strong exception..."). I pointed out the largest mistakes so that, in the unlikely event that others come across your piece, they won't think your mistakes were mine. I think you also probably understand that saying I pollute Maker's Mark with ice is different than saying that you prefer your bourbon at room temperature and why. As for the water comment, I inferred nothing--I asked you how you feel about water.
I'm not interested in having a pissing contest, I just wanted to make it clear that I didn't write the things you said I wrote. Mistakes aren't a function of the "instant, unedited nation of the blogosphere" (or even the nature of it). Mistakes are a function of time and effort, or lack thereof. Believe me, in 25 years as a journalist I've made plenty of mistakes. But I think I've learned from them, I don't think I've made the same mistake twice, and I've always accepted responsibility for my gaffes. With luck I'll have future opportunities to make mistakes; one thing I am sure of is that I'll have plenty of opportunities to point out others' mistakes.
Best, James
Hi James,
I'm thinking that if you're not interested in having a pissing contest, you should stop trying to spray so high! I accept responsibility for my gaffs - the rickhouse slip (most painful), and any and all typos - but I also think you should be gracious and simply accept the nod (and link) that I've provided to your work. I hope that after 25 years as a journalist, I can financially afford to lavish "time and effort" on my blog. Perhaps, with my rent paid, I'll even have loads of time "to point out others mistakes" - as you, apparently, do Your continuing to nag at this feels unseemly for a journalist of your stated experience, and a former editor at Gourmet. I just can't see Ruth Reichle being this petty about what was - at root - a compliment to your article.
Julia