Overproof Day: Larceny Barrel Proof and Stagg Jr. Batch 13

Two barrel proof, cask strength, overproof whiskeys to taste today as I struggle to clear the tasting table (because Cathy wants it clear). I got the Larceny a while back, but the Stagg Jr. was just last month, so hey, practically immediate, that one. (And before I forget...thank you to both Heaven Hill and Buffalo Trace for not putting any damned wax on these bottles!)

Why barrel proof? I think Booker Noe said it best: so you can taste it the way he tasted it, the way a master distiller or blender tastes it -- full-bore, uncut, unfiltered, untouched. The only thing they do to this stuff is screen out the chunks of char and pick which barrels to pour in the dump trough.

No sense wasting any more time. Let's rip these open.

Larceny Barrel Proof Batch A120, 123.2° proof: No backstory, only this: wheated bourbon. No mash bill is given; guesses are that it's around 20% wheat, but take that with a grain of salt. The label says these are whiskeys between 6 and 8 years old. The batch number is pretty simple: A120, with “A” representing the first batch of that year, “1” representing January, and “20” representing the year 2020.

It's poured and waiting, and I can smell it from a foot away; sweet, smokey, vanilla, evocative of the deep hollers of the mountains. Get the nose in there, and you'd swear you were in the warehouse, it's that rich. This one isn't shy, unlike some other wheaters I've had. I can almost pick out some of that brawling character of the old Heaven Hill Bonded 6. There's a lot of caramel, an edge of burnt sugar, crème brûlée, all those hot, browned sugar things. But there is also a brightness -- a berry acidity -- and unsalted peanuts, with a nip of oak bark following on behind. Intense, but, hey, that's what you get from these heavyweights. Let's pull the trigger.

Heat, for sure, but not killing, and there sure is a lot else there. All that browned sugar, leaning more heavily toward the darker sides, and hot vanilla; that crème brûlée is really coming on strong. But there is some corn now, Indian pudding, the concentrated sweetness of parched corn. There's a big smacky paddle of oak behind it, too, and that pretty much lifts you into the finish, where it dominates that sweet caramel/corn.

Boys and girls, we're looking at a different Larceny here. Even at the standard 92° proof, Larceny is soft-spoken. This wheater is laying it down, and, maybe, is ready to go toe-to-toe with The Wheated Warrior: Mr. William Larue Weller (who, you'll note, delivers that same kind of crème brûlée and corn pudding richness...with less oak). If you've been looking for a wheater with the backbone of a big rye bourbon, this here bottle does it.

Stagg Jr., 13th batch, 128.4° proof: Did someone say "big rye bourbon"? Well, hello there, little fella! And I do like this bottle style: fireplug short, broad-shouldered, solid heft of whiskey in your paw. This one's a bit older overall than the Larceny ("eight years old" by the press release), and darker in color.

Pop it open, and you know it's a different whiskey. Every bit as bold as the Larceny, but without the cushioning sugar-caramel sweetness. Stagg just steps right up and sucker-punches you, BOOM, with a honker full of oak, a touch of wax polish, and bitter rye notes, like a rye bread without the butter or jam. It's lean, it's rippling, it's ready.

Me too. And there's a shock: there's a ton of sweetness lurking behind the austere aromas. Sure, it spreads on your tongue like a wave of blue flame, but now you taste the corn sweetness, the caramel, and the buoyancy of it all makes the heat bearable. The rye notes are like an iron core everything's anchored to, like the supports in an old brick building. Rye shoots through the sweetness, contrasts with it, works with it, and by the time we get to the finish, it's freakin' well waltzing with it.

And you know, after half an ounce of each of these, I'm feeling like dancing too. Two really good whiskeys here, each at a not unreasonable list price -- MSRP is $49.99, for each whiskey -- for a bottle of barrel proof bourbon. I can't tell you what you'll see on the shelf, of course, which is half the fight anymore.

Good luck!

Some Whiskey Royalty

Got some whiskey royalty today. I've got Chivas Regal 18 year old, the latest – and last? – release of Crown Royal XR, and the newest wrinkle in the rags-to-riches Elijah Craig story, the new Elijah Craig Rye.

Crown Royal XR – We've been thrilled by the XR releases since 2012, when I had the opportunity to taste this exceptional whisky at WhiskyFest New York. It was one of the short-list, fingers-on-one-hand, if-you-only-have-one-tonight pours of that festival. Crown XR is blended using the very last barrels produced at Crown's LaSalle distillery in Montreal, which closed in 2003. These are old barrels, and we're told they're “the last of the last, the best of best. The barrels are empty, the final bottles are filled, the remaining traces of this spirit never to be tried again.”

They even sent out special glasses with this sample, the Sempli Cupa-Rocks. I have to admit, it may be helping launch this pour into the air, because I'm smelling caramel and dried fruit already. Time to get to it. 

Crown Royal always smells rich and sweet, but the XR has been blended with those LaSalle whiskies to a deeper level, a more complex composition. These whiskies are the master works of the Crown Royal blenders, and the results are obvious. There's light caramel (no burnt sugar, just browned), sweet nut aromas verging on marzipan, and a blend of wood aromas: cedar, aged oak, a hint of cherry. The sweetness that comes across in waves is a melange of the caramel, vanilla, salt water taffy, and a teasing hint of Juicy Fruit gum, like a cocktail in a candy store.

That is one of the sharpest Canadians I've ever tasted. This Crown doesn't pillow your palate, no lush sweetness to fill your mouth. No, the first thing that hits your mouth is structure, a squared wooden framework for the whisky to follow and fill. There's a heat and spice that would be expected in other whiskeys, but comes as a bit of a shock for Crown Royal. The rye is forward, the oak is firm. But the familiar Crown lushness, the beauty of the blend is there, behind closed doors that teasingly open as the whisky warms on your palate. There's a long finish that is warm, peppery, and lined with more of that oak, verging on astringent but not quite reaching it, then relaxing to a lingering note of cedar and, right at the end, some dry cocoa.

If you avoid Canadians because you find them too soft, or one-dimensional, if you find them too apologetic... this may be what you're looking for. It's almost unCanadian, but in a most beguiling way. Farewell, LaSalle. You did your work well. (The glass is fun, by the way, but the way it spins on the table requires some thought about where you set it down!)

Tom, the Chivas, and Pippin

Chivas Regal 18 – This bottle of Chivas just showed up in my mail back in December, unexpectedly. Usually I get samples with the expectation that I will try to write about them somewhere (hey, it's not my fault if these people can't manage their expectations), which I either do or don't; stories happen, they can't be forced. When I queried what was up with this – re-launch, new cocktail recipes, change in concept? – I was told, quite pleasantly, that no, they'd just sent it for me to enjoy during the holidays.

Well, I did, sharing a pour with my buddy Tom Linquist while smoking some salmon for our Christmas celebration. It was good, but shortly after that I was hit again with the sinus infection that's been at me since November. Now that I'm clear, I thought I'd have another look. Good blends are a good thing. (The Chivas 18 Gold Signature has a suggested retail in the $60-$70 range, so we're definitely not talking about buying it because it's cheap.)

Layers of fruit in the nose: dried pear, a bit of berry brightness, even a hint of quince jam. There's some chocolate-honey brickle in there as well, fresh and sweet, along with the maltiness – and just a bare wisp of smoke that I thought I smelled while doing that salmon, but how could one be sure? – that would have Ron Burgundy mumbling about scotchy-scotch-scotch.

Smooth and roly-poly on the tongue, this has a bit of heft to it, not light and skittish. The malt bedrocks things, with a light woodwork of oak about it. There's heat, and that tap of peat, just a nudge to let you know it's there. But you know what I like about this? A quality I've noticed in the Jameson 18, and, come to think of it, in the Wiser's 18 – is there something about 18 years in the barrel? – that could be called roundness, or integration. There's nothing that gets in the way of your enjoyment here, nothing that calls out “Looka me over here, isn't this cool?!”, nothing that irks or particularly pleasures to the point of distraction. Like those other two bottles, I could drink this stuff all day, and never get tired of it, or bored. There's something to be said for that. Actually, there's a lot to be said for that. That's well-made whisky.


Elijah Craig Rye -- Elijah Craig bourbon has been part of my regular drinking rotation for a long, long time. It was the first whiskey I "discovered" on my own, without it being recommended to me, and I told a lot of people about it. I was accidentally responsible for getting it booted out of the PA State Stores for about a year, 10-odd years ago, and for that, I apologize (less said, the better). It's one of the few whiskey's I've "bunkered": when the change was made away from a 12 year age statement, I bought some up (I have one bottle left). It's a favorite, and I've watched every change.

This one is clearly a big change, bringing out a rye under the EC label. I've always seen this as a "step up" line for Heaven Hill, and we'll see if it's a step up from Rittenhouse and Pikesville. Heaven Hill sent samples out with a small loaf of rye bread, which is cute, and interesting. It's also kind of special, because the bread was baked by their master distiller, Conor O'Driscoll. (I've had his baking chops independently confirmed; this was not a stunt.)  I noted on Twitter that when I took a bite of bread, and then a sip of whiskey, that "The whiskey positively detonates with flavor when it hits the bread; first time was shocking…now I'm hooked." Lets get a bit more detailed.

I'm out of the bread; too good to waste. The whiskey, however, does smell like Heaven Hill: lean, pared down, Parker Beam-style. The rye is there, with the mint and spicy hard candy notes I'd expect, and some oaky flooring under it. There's some sweetness that comes with the hard candy, but it's bright and almost brittle.

The rye flavor really blows up on the tongue, but it's not hot, even at 94° proof. The Crown XR at 80° is hotter. This rye is quite pleasant, actually, bouncing around your mouth with bountiful mint, grass, rye oil bitterness, and oaky spice. The finish goes on and on, barrel-rolling flavors as you breathe it home: mint, now rye, now oak, now spice candies, back to mint, more candies, and finally whispering away on dry mint and oak.

Folks, I gotta tell ya...at an MSRP of $30, I may have found my new house rye. I'll have to try this in an Old Fashioned, but I'm feeling like Bo Peep in Toy Story...

*You asked for Conor's recipe, and Heaven Hill was good enough to send it. Enjoy!

Ingredients
1.5  cups rye flour
3 cups unbleached bread flour
1.5 tsp salt
1.75 tsp instant yeast (1 sachet)
1 to 1.5 tsp caraway seeds (optional)
1 tbs molasses
2 tbs butter, melted
1 cup buttermilk at room temperature
0.25 - 0.5 cups water at room temperature

Method

Mix both flours, salt, yeast, and caraway seeds in the bowl of an electric mixer.
Add melted butter, molasses, buttermilk, and 0.25 c water
Mix with the paddle attachment until the dough comes together in a rough ball. Add another 0.25 c water as necessary to ensure all the loose flour is collected in the ball.
Switch to the hook attachment and mix on medium-low speed.
Continue to knead for 5 to 6 minutes. The dough should be elastic and tacky but not sticky.
Lightly oil a bowl with oil, then transfer the dough to the bowl. Roll the ball in the bowl to coat it with oil.
Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and leave to ferment at room temperature for 1.5 to 2 hours. The dough should double in size.

Turn the dough onto a lightly floured surface and knead gently to degas.
Form the dough into a loaf shape, then transfer to a lightly-oiled and floured loaf pan. The dough can also be formed into a boule for subsequent baking on a pizza stone.
Loosely cover the loaf with plastic wrap. Dust the wrap with flour first to prevent it from sticking to the dough.
Proof the loaf at room temperature until it doubles in size and rises a couple of inches above the rim of the pan.

Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 350°F and position a rack on the middle shelf.
When the loaf has proofed, bake it for approximately 45 minutes, rotating it front-to-back about halfway through.
Remove the loaf from the pan as soon as it is finished baking. It should sound hollow when tapped on the bottom. Cool the loaf on a rack for at least an hour before serving.


Enjoy!

Heaven Hill Bottled In Bond: three glasses

4 year old; The Six; the new 7 year old

I've always been a fan of Heaven Hill because of the value of their whiskeys. Evan Williams, in the familiar black label, the Bonded, and Single Barrel bottlings, is the benchmark for bourbon value. I will admit: I didn't get the value prospect when I first started seriously drinking bourbon. I perversely wanted to spend more money on my whiskey. When I found Elijah Craig 12 year old for $14 (20 years ago!), I changed my mind.

So one of my favorite bottles was the Heaven Hill Bottled in Bond 6 Years Old in the white label. I liked the way that bottle poured down the long neck, I liked the smack in the face of its unapologetic big corn/big oak character, and I sure did like that $14 (or less) price tag. That and Wild Turkey 101 were the bourbons that led me to realize that I preferred bourbons on the low side of 12 years old.

I felt betrayed when Heaven Hill pulled the Bonded Six from the market last year. That's a little harsh; it makes sense. Why put such great whiskey in a bottle for $14 ($21 for a handle!), when whiskeys that aren't even as good are selling for four times that? It simply no longer made sense for Heaven Hill, even with their long and loyal practice of supporting markets that had supported them (in this case, the bottom shelf bandits, I guess). I get it.

But now we get Heaven Hill Bottled-in-Bond 7 year old, and it's $40 a bottle. Where's that rise in price come from? An extra year of age, and I guess the Bottled-in-Bond hyphens aren't free, and that is a very snazzy new bottle and label. But you know me Al: how's it taste?

I just went through the process of sorting all my bourbons and ryes, so I knew I had not only the Bonded Six and the new bottling, but a 'pint' bottle of Old Heaven Hill Bonded, a 4 year old that I believe is still out there. Let's taste them.

Old Heaven Hill Bottled in Bond — No age statement, but I'm guessing this probably isn't much over 4 years old. Sweet corn on the nose, some hot oaky alcohol, and some pleasantly delicate nuts and fruit pastilles there as well. Simple but well-built on the tongue: everything the nose promises, with a bit of creamy sweetness as well, and maybe a hint of green corn. Decent finish. Better than I remember, to be honest.

Heaven Hill Bottled in Bond 6 Years Old —  Given the age of this bottle (I found it buried in the back of my liquor cabinet), it was likely laid down by Parker and Craig Beam. In Parker's honor, I'll note that I smell corn, and oak! I also smell lots of spicy candy, coffee cake streusel, and sweet stollen dough. Big entry: hot corn pudding, Red Hots, peppermint oil, and a beginning of the oak that will build through the finish. The heat is a rock-em sock-em kind of thing, a punch, but a gloved punch that's not going to knock your palate out. Instead, it brings you back for more, like the soothing pummeling of a massage. I want to finish the sample, but I'll have to come back to it.

Heaven Hill 7 Year Old Bottled In Bond — Trying hard to clear my head of expectations... The nose has more candy -- orange nougat, butter mints -- but also lots of cornmeal and dusty seed corn, along with whiskey-wet barrel oak. Quite different from the Bonded Six on the palate: smoother, more cornmeal and dried corn, the Red Hots are lighter and not as sweet. That's it: it's a lighter, almost brittle sweetness over a richer corn and oak underlayment, almost like a crème brûlée kind of structure (not flavor; structure). The end of the palate and into the finish is more austere, and shorter.

When I go back to the Bonded Six after this, it seems a lot sweeter, until that finish, which piles on the oak. That's where I think the Bonded Six has the advantage; the finish on the 7 Year Old is shorter, and less...magnificent. The 7 has a more interesting nose, it has more balanced flavor that we'll call 'separate but equal,' but that Bonded Six finish is something I'm going to miss.

Is the Heaven Hill 7 Year Old Bonded worth $40? At 100° and 7 years old, baby, most definitely! Especially when I look around at what else is going for $40 these days. Hell, get a bottle of this and a bottle of New Riff Bonded for about the same price, and you'll have $80 well-spent; catch the right store pricing, and you'll have enough left over for lemons, superfine sugar, and chips for a whiskey sour party you won't soon forget. This steps lightly and brightly along the edge of young bonded power and mature whiskey sophistication, a young boxer who just got his first silk suit.

Are the days of punch-in-the-face bourbon gone? There are always 4 year olds that will slap you: Beam White, Jack Black. There are  8 to 12 year olds that will body-slam you: Russell's Reserve, Knob Creek. But when I go looking for the solid haymaker to the chops that was the Bonded Six...I'm not sure it's going to be out there. Maybe I need to get out Jimmy's Remedy: Turkey 101. I'll let you know about that.

Whiskey Wednesday #6

Yes, I'm aware I didn't do any tastings last week. Makes me wonder if anyone noticed. I didn't until Thursday. But I've got some whiskeys I want to write about, so we're going to keep this up, at least for a while longer.

Brenne Estate Cask French Single Malt Whisky, 40%

Allison Patel

I have two samples: the Brenne Estate Cask, and the Brenne Ten. I first tried Brenne several years ago at St. Andrews in Manhattan, at a table with a bunch of other whisky writers and bloggers, and Brenne founder Allison Patel. The whiskey is made from malt grown and distilled in Cognac, aged in new Limousin oak barrels, and finished in Cognac barrels. Each bottling is a single cask bottling, no blending. Neat idea. Nice packaging.

I wasn't impressed; I found it very sweet, almost gaggy sweet, but Allison was clearly very excited to be there and I didn't want to be the poop at the table. So I had a beer and kept my opinion to myself. I haven't had Brenne since, and when I was offered a sample of the two whiskeys, I thought it was time to do it properly.

The aroma is rich: fully ripe banana and root beer, but a really, really good root beer made with cane sugar, with a light but trenchant backing of soberly dry oak. Tasting it reminds me of that day at St. Andrews. Sweet tastes in a fairly heavy-bodied whiskey, with banana taffy and King syrup. There's malt there in the middle, but the banana engulfs it.. The finish is oddly hot for 40%, but the banana finally goes away, thank God.

I was right three years ago. This is really, really sweet. Too damned sweet.

Verdict: Flawed

Brenne Ten, 48%
The Brenne website says about the Estate Cask bottling: "NO AGE STATEMENT -- Because Brenne Estate Cask is bottled individually by barrel, the aging for each cask differs as it depends on how long the Cognac was in the barrel before. On average, the whisky ages for a total of about 7 years." This, on the other hand, goes to 10. And this is what I came for. These two little sample bottles have been sitting on my desk for over a month (sorry...), and now's the time. Pour the Ten.

Still banana, but nowhere near as sticky ripe, and there are other fruits -- cantaloupe, stewed apple -- and some oak. Nosed side-by-side, the difference is striking; the Estate Cask is sticky-sweet, young, almost silly, and the Ten is getting there, building a wooden framework. Wow, yeah, quite a bit more wood there, some quite pleasant floral notes, doughy malt, and the banana's much more in check on the palate. Quite hot, still, but the finish isn't burning, in fact there's a good roll of malt there with the oak.

Age helps, what a shocker! It's getting there, but I can think of better whiskies for $100.

Verdict: Okay


Elijah Craig Single Barrel 18 Year Old (Barrel 4090), 45%

This one's been sitting on my desk for a while too. I wanted to give it the attention it deserved. Given that it's selling on the shelf for anywhere between $250 and $350, I figure I owe it to you to give you my read on whether it's worth it.

Here's the thing: if you've read my writing, my reviews, and heard what I've said on a number of occasions, you know that this is a bit past my "best-by" date. I'm really a fan of younger bourbons, 12 years and under, and while I love Heaven Hill's whiskeys, generally it's the ones between 6 and 12 years old. That said, I know what you woody guys are looking for, so let's see if this baby's got it.

Oh, it's woody all right. The nose is oaky, like walking into a wall made of barrel. There's hair oil, cinnamon, maple, caramel, graham cracker, and, er, oak. The sweetness of the maple and graham makes me hopeful, so let's take a sip. That's pretty tasty, actually, with the sweet stuff all curling around: maple candy, caramel candy, cinnamon and dried mint, without the burning hot oak I was concerned about. The oak's there, but it provides structure, and balance, not palate death. The finish is civilized and pulls everything together. Nicely done.

But God above: $300? I can get two and a half cases of Heaven Hill Bonded 6 Year Old for that, and me, I'll probably like it more. This is rare, I get it. So if you really like older bourbon, you might pay that. I won't.

Verdict: Good...but pricey

Parker's Heritage Collection 2013, J. Walker Platinum, and some Monkey Shoulder

Got a sample of the latest Parker's Heritage Collection, the Promise of Hope single barrel bottling. 10 years old, 96 proof, top floors of Rickhouse EE (Parker's favorite), no barrel number. And I gotta say...just smelling this after having some Elijah Craig 21 last night (a pretty good night; more on that shortly) reminds me that I just plain like bourbon under 15 years old better than the older stuff everyone's peeing themselves over these days.

If you're expecting tasting notes... I'm minded not to say. Parker told me once that he doesn't understand how people can taste things like mangoes, or leather in whiskey; 'I only put two things in it,' he said, 'corn and oak. I taste corn, and oak.'

Cheers, Parker. I taste corn. And oak. It's just...you made them taste so damned good!

Now, about last night... I got a sample of Johnnie Walker Platinum, too. But they wouldn't ship it to Pennsylvania because of our stoopid liquor laws, so my friend Jim Carlucci agreed to receive it across the river at his home in Trenton, and that's where I went to pick it up, and, you know, have a dram with my man Jim!

I don't usually include schwag shots, but this is just too cool; they sent the bottle (and a flydrive with pix and descriptions, and a coaster) in an aluminum briefcase. Nora's lusting after it, I think.

Platinum is an 18 year old blend, and has a suggested retail of $110...roughly halfway between Black and Blue, so to speak. Jim's not a big Scotch drinker, but he was eager to try it; score one for the metal briefcase and the sharp-looking bottle. I poured two drams. Sherried malt, toffee, fresh fruit pie, and a sophisticatedly reserved smoke. An elegant dram on the palate, as the malt and toffee/fudge comes out more, and that smoke curls around at the back. Could be just the right drink at some moments; probably quite good with cheese and nuts. Only thing is...I kind of have the sneaking suspicion that Platinum is for people who can afford but just don't understand Blue. Maybe I'm wrong, but it tweaks at the back of my mind. Not going to stop me from finishing the dram, though (I've poured another tonight...)

Next we had Grant's Monkey Shoulder, a blend of their three malts: Glenfiddich, Balvenie, and Kininvie. I tweeted on this: "Fruit, spice, baked desserts, dry malt." I'll add that it had a very pleasingly full mouthfeel, a real roll-around-the-palate sensation. An enjoyable dram indeed, and Jim was smacking his lips; hey, maybe I do like Scotch! It's like beer: if you think you don't like it, here, try this...

Then I hit him blindside: Danfields 21, a delicious bottling from Black Velvet that doesn't come to the U.S. market, and man, that's a shame. Luscious, sweet, with a spicy soupçon of rye; when we toured Black Velvet back in June, and went out for dinner with the distillery staff, we tore into doubles of this at dinner, and just loved it. If you see it at Duty Free, get it, or get a Canadian friend to mule some in.

We wound up the night with the Elijah Craig 21 I mentioned above (Barrel 41). I've never been a huge fan of the EC 18 year old; I'm unabashedly in love with the EC 12, and have said so frequently. This 21 year old reminded me why. Good, but...strong oak in the nose, pinching wood on the palate. The broadness of it saves it, but it's not one I'd reach for...like I will for that Parker's Heritage 10 year old. I've gone back to that, and I'm drinking it now. I do like that.

Heaven Hill's Larceny

Time for honesty: usually when I get samples, even whiskey samples, they generally sit on my kitchen table for at least a couple days. The boxes are annoyingly wrapped, I've a tendency to procrastinate (I hear a whisper of chuckles from my editors), and, well, they'll still be there tomorrow.

But today, when I got this box from Heaven Hill...I was pretty sure what it was, so I opened it as soon as I got home. Sure enough, it's the new Larceny. Here's the description: "Larceny is a true small batch Bourbon produced from dumps of 100 or fewer barrels that have been selected from the 4^th, 5^th and 6^th floors of Heaven Hill’s open rick warehouses in Nelson County, Kentucky. Larceny is drawn from barrels that have aged from 6 to 12 years at this high storage, and is bottled at a full-bodied 92 proof, or 46% alcohol by volume."

But the key -- heh, heh -- point is that Larceny comes from the wheated bourbon that Craig and Parker have been making since Heaven Hill bought the Old Fitzgerald brand back in 1999, and Larceny references the story of John Fitzgerald. Or at least, one of the stories. It's the story that Fitzgerald was a treasury agent who had the keys to distilleries' bonded warehouses...and used them to pilfer whiskey -- the best whiskey, as he apparently had plenty of time to taste them. 

Enough talk. Let's drink! Well, it smells like Heaven Hill: hot sweet corn, light cinnamon notes, an edgy oak note. Mmmm, tasty. This is what I love about Parker's booze: it's always stuffed full of flavor, from the cheapest bottle of Heaven Hill white label all the way up through Evan Williams, Elijah Craig 12 Year Old, all the way on up to the Parker's Heritage bottlings. This is no exception, and it's sharp and lively with it. Imagine a hot sheet of whiskey glass snapping in your mouth and flashing to liquid; it's that quick and light. It's not sweet, it's spicy, oaky, shot with cornbread and a drying heat. The finish is encouraging, a warm tingle through the whole mouth.

I could see drinking this all night -- with a small application of water and a certain amount of pretzels or nuts -- with a group of friends, talking till it's gone. And at $25 suggested price, it wouldn't be a bad idea to have a spare.

Evan Williams Single Barrel Vintage 2001

Heaven Hill filled their six millionth barrel of whiskey today, on the 75th anniversary of the very day they filled their first barrel of whiskey, way back in 1935. Congratulations to my good friends at Heaven Hill -- the largest independent, family-owned distiller in America -- on this landmark accomplishment, and on this auspicious anniversary. I have to say that Heaven Hill is doing great: their other spirits brands are selling well (and get excellent reviews on quality and value, a Heaven Hill hallmark), and their whiskey is getting more well-deserved attention than ever.

Which seems like a good excuse to crack open this fresh bottle of the new Evan Williams Single Barrel Vintage 2001 they sent me and have a taste. It will be out on the market in January, at a suggested retail of $26 (see what I mean about value?). Let's get at it.

First I had to wait for the whiskey to warm up -- I'm a cheap bastard when it comes to heating the home, and when it's just me here in the house during a working day, I keep the thermostat at 62 or lower. Not a great temp for tasting bourbon! So, warmed in my hands, the EWSB is starting to express itself. It's a markedly sweet nose, almost candy-like and tinged with vanilla, with a hint of wood spice, a touch of cedar, and real Heaven Hill/Parker Beam character. It's creamy on the tongue, like hot oil, and definite with corn, with a strong flip of spice on the end. This is not a cloying bourbon, not a lush one; the wood takes a firm hand. But it's not drying and astringent, either.

There's a very nice balance here between these two major bourbon components. There's a tendency among crazed bourbon aficionados to get 'Scotch envy' and go for the older, woodier bourbons; the Japanese, apparently, take that to an extreme. I've had some excellent older bourbons and ryes, but...there's a sweet spot here around 8 to 12 years that I'm really getting to like, though I'll happily admit that I love the Van Winkle 15, too. At 9 years old, this vintage, single barrel whiskey is hitting it right between the eyes.

Parker's Heritage Collection #4: 10 Year Old Wheated Bourbon

Ten years ago, Parker Beam started mashing wheated bourbon at Heaven Hill (well, okay, at Bernheim, the distillery Heaven Hill bought after theirs burned in 1996). The distillery had bought the Old Fitzgerald brand, and that is a wheated mashbill, so...Parker made wheated bourbon for the first time.

The Parker's Heritage Collection -- fine whiskeys from Heaven Hill's warehouses, selected by Mister Beam himself -- has put forth some real beauties lately, like this one. But this year, the Collection backs down from the extreme -- amazing -- age of the the last two (and backs down in price quite a bit, too), bringing us a 10 year old bottling of those first runs of wheated bourbon. This sample is non-chill filtered, and bottled at 127.8° of barrel proof, and it's just drinkable at full strength, which is pretty impressive. I know, I know...you guys can all drink uncut Stagg, whatever. I'm talking about a seriously overproof whiskey that you can actually drink without wincing.

So what do I get when I do? Sweet youthful corn, King syrup, sweet grass, and just a touch of mint make up the nose. The whiskey is overproof hot, but yields oak spice, cornbread, vanilla, and more mint on the end. Let's be smart and add some water. Much the same, without the heat; more enjoyable, good balance. You know...I screwed up and added too much water, and this whiskey didn't fall apart. Good sign.

I'm tasting it with some other wheated bourbons, like Very Special Old Fitzgerald (which I reviewed ten years ago here), Maker's Mark, Weller Antique, and a 19 year old W.L. Weller from Sazerac's Antique Collection. Let's make some comparisons. The VSOF (12 years old and 90° proof; made at Bernheim, but not by Parker) is richer, but simpler at the same time: the sweetness is more pronounced. Maker's Mark is the sweetest of the lot, though it still holds up well at around 6 years of age. Weller Antique has more of the overproof bite at 107° proof and about 7 years of age; the wood is a bit more forward on the higher proof, but I still love this one. The 19 year old Weller, though, doesn't hold up well in this relatively young company, tasting decidedly old and woody.

Back to the Parker's...decided difference here. I'm recalling that Parker likes them "high and dry," from the hotter floors, not sappy, with a firm wood note. It's here, and I think they caught it before it got too big. That's really pretty nice right at full-bore.

There's a similarity (not to say 'sameness'!) among these whiskeys, and it's not a lack of rye spice, but rather a firm sweetness; not sugary, but like that King syrup, or light molasses, a more mature sweetness. I should have maybe trotted out the bottle of Bernheim...maybe another night. I do think you'll like this one. I do.

Evan Williams Single Barrel Vintage 2000

The picture says it all, or almost all: from right to left, Heaven Hill prez Max Shapira watches as Parker Beam "thiefs" samples of Barrel #1 of this year's Evan Williams Single Barrel, distilled in 2000, into glasses held by Craig Beam. It was the moment of the evening.

And the whiskey? One of the good ones. It came out of the barrel at 142.9 proof, quite high for these selections; Max thought it was the highest. The barrel came from the 7th floor of Warehouse Z (I think Parker said Z). But it was definitely drinkable at that proof: as I Tweeted last night, "Nice. Good oak, spicy, but a nice slippery sweetness, like sugar maple sap. Wicked smooth even at full proof." Then as a pitcher came around, "A touch of water brings out more depth to the oak and vanilla. A nice blend of bourbon's strengths: sweet, spice, & oaky dryness."

I'm looking forward to having more when I get home, even though it's going to be at 43.3%. We did just kind of wonder...wouldn't it be cool if Heaven Hill bottled a limited run of 1,000 bottles of this stuff at barrel proof? Woof.

We went back to the Proof bar afterwards, had DFH 60 Minute (a lot of that), then a Los Angeles cocktail, a whiskey sour variation that was deliciously creamy smooth. Hung out with John, Larry Kass, Josh Hafer (both Heaven Hill folks we've known a long time), Alan Katz, Gary Regan, Mark Gillespie, the two guys from Los Angeles (guys, it was a long night; shoot me your info, be glad to put a link up to your bar (they're trying to bring classic cocktails to LA, folks)), and some others; it was a big, friendly crowd. And now...it's morning, and time to head for the airport. Fun weekend, but I'm ready to go home.

Congratulations, Parker Beam!

I'm currently in Louisville, on a beautiful fall day. I'm out here with John Hansell, Gary Regan, and other whiskey writers to help celebrate Parker Beam's 50 years of working at Heaven Hill.

We went down to Bardstown last night in a limo -- nine of us, passing around a bottle of Parker's Golden Anniversary, and it was fun, and Larry Kass told some great stories, and we all agreed that what gets said in the limo stays in the limo (and believe me, that's for the best!) -- and toasted Parker with a bunch of Heaven Hill folks, other distillers (at one point I was drinking with Jim Rutledge (Four Roses), Greg Davis (Tom Moore), and Craig Beam (Parker's son and co-master distiller), and Bardstown friends. Parker was called "a Rembrandt," "a genius," "brilliant," and I have to say, he was honest enough to simply smile and nod. Lots of laughs, and lots and lots of great bourbon. That's Bourbon Heritage Center director Lynne Grant with the cake, BTW...really, that's the cake. It even has the stencil on the head. Awesome.

Tonight is more Parkermania: the launch of this year's Evan Williams Single Barrel Vintage. I just had a bottle delivered to my room, and I'm not opening it. I'm waiting till the official launch. That's how it's done.

And because that's how it's done: I am Heaven Hill's guest on this trip. Because you should know that.

Rittenhouse Rye Single Barrels

Yes, I've been absent. Some of it was work -- quite a bit, actually -- some of it was WhiskyFest San Francisco, and some of it was baseball. In any case...I'm back. And I'm leaving again; tomorrow I'm flying to Kentucky to help celebrate Parker Beam's 50 years with Heaven Hill, and to get the first taste of this year's Evan Williams Single Barrel.

It's appropriate, therefore, to get back in the blogging swing with three years of Rittenhouse Rye Single Barrel, the 21, 23, and 25 year old releases, all bottled at 100 proof. Heaven Hill says the 25 year old is the last of these, so I'm queueing all three up tonight, and having a taste.

The smell is filling the room, I'll tell you that: wood, spice, and a surprising fruitiness. I'm going to start with the 21 year old, which looks darker than the 23 year old, about the same as the 25. It's Bottle 67, from Barrel 1. The smell is heavy with sweet oaky spice and a trenchant note of mint. It's a bit hot, but as I chew it, the mint comes out, some cinnamon flicker, and broad wood. I'll come back to this one.

Next up is the 23 year old, Bottle 72 from Barrel 8. The smell's much less heavy, sweet and even a bit crisp. Much more lively whiskey, not nearly as thickly oaky, not nearly as hot, either. There's still quite a dance in this one: teaberry, mint, that flick of cinnamon, and some real sweetness. It goes round and round in the mouth, more coming out with every sip and breath. Don't get me wrong: this is still rye, and would never be mistaken for a friendly sip of Maker's Mark or Basil Hayden. But it's approachable, and graciously yields its treasure.

Finally, the 25 year old, an unnumbered sample bottle from Barrel 1. Almost a blend of the first two: oaky, but sweet in the nose (and I really need to trim my moustache...) with a curl of vanilla to it. Easily the most drinkable of the three, surprisingly, but I still like the 23 better; this one is less layered, more shouty. I'm adding a little water, and the sweetness comes out, and that vanilla. There's not just oak spice in this one, there's oak vanilla and a touch of caramel. Still leaning towards the 23 year old; pretty heavily, actually. Yeah, going back to the 21 finds it still hot, my least favorite of the three.

These are quite intense ryes, well-aged, and full of wood...but not ruined by it. They represent what aging American whiskey -- in the hot summers and new barrels that entails -- can bring about.

Well, that will do me for tonight. I'm off to bed, and tomorrow, I'm off to Kentucky. Cheers!

Parker's Heritage Collection Golden Anniversary

After teasing you a bit last month, I finally got to cracking open my bottle of Parker's Heritage Collection Golden Anniversary. You don't want to rush these things.

Parker does like the higher, drier whiskeys, but this one's got some sweet to it. There's cotton candy, maple, vanilla, and corn in the nose, and some heat, too, of course; it's set at 100 proof, you're going to get some vapors. The first sip's a shock: you get the set of the older whiskeys right up front, spreading quickly and squeezing up your tongue -- but just as quickly behind it comes a rush of sweet corn heat, oak spice. The second sip expands a bit, without that first shock, and that lean, muscular, macho feel that typifies some of the best of the Evan Williams Single Barrels makes itself evident.

By the third sip I'm getting deeper into this one, shaking hands, making friends. My tongue's warm now, not feeling beaten, and the roof of my mouth seems to be stretching to contain all this whiskey. There's some anise showing up now, and a bit of soft mint, like a butter mint. There's more wood coming through, but it's still not harsh. It's big, really big, but smooth, and it pulls at me to have more. I'm picking up some pepper now; the younger whiskeys come through and keep this a lot fresher than it could be if Parker had leaned too heavily on the older whiskeys. This makes me remember why I prefer the Elijah Craig 12 over the 18.

Oh, my. I'm not big on using great bourbons like this in cocktails, and I doubt I ever will do that. I don't think it would create any useful synergies. But I could see one cube of ice, a cool shot of water, a fresh taste of branch might be nice with this. Nothing more. Oh...a nice touch of mint on the end. Thanks, Parker.

Parker's Golden Anniversary

In advance of more detailed tasting notes, I do want to make you aware of the next release in the Parker's Heritage Collection line from Heaven Hill. This one is called Parker's Golden Anniversary, and celebrates Parker Beam's 50 years at Heaven Hill. Parker created this 50% ABV bottling by taking whiskey distilled in each decade he was at Heaven Hill -- and yes, that means there is a very small amount of 40 year old bourbon in here. Not to worry, it was taken from the bottom floor of a relatively cool warehouse, and like I said, a very small amount. There are 4,500 bottles, selling at $150 each (retail, God knows what it will be once it hits eBay).

But you want to know how it tastes. Well, I had a bit at the Malt Advocate staff party Friday night, an annual event I usually say nothing about, because it's just our party. But this whiskey was exceptional, and I'm looking forward to tasting it with a clean, fresh palate. Just to give you an idea of how good it is, Cathy's never shown any interest in bourbon before. She sipped some Friday night, and the next morning, when she saw my sample bottle that had arrived in the mail, asked me if we could take it along with us to the Selinsgrove Fest. She liked it. Life-changing stuff.

Kentucky Bourbon Festival: Things Go Flat

Friday morning: After a quick shower and breakfast, I headed out Rt. 62 to the Jim Beam distillery in Clermont, where I joined their press group for the distillery tour. I've been through Beam a few times, but I always figure there's something new to learn.

Sure enough, I learned something new right away: just because a distillery said you can't take pictures last time doesn't mean they'll say you can't take pictures this time. And didn't I leave my camera back in the room! Oh, well, it didn't matter anyway, turned out: when I took my camera along out to Heaven Hill later that afternoon...the batteries were dead. Que sera sera. (By the way, this shot of the top floor of Warehouse Y at Heaven Hill has nothing to do with today; I took it back in June. Just some scenery for you.)

So, the distillery tour at Jim Beam. You'll have to fill in the generalities -- how distilling is done, how long things age, and what's in bourbon -- on your own, and there are some excellent ways to do that; I've just got a few tit-bits for you.

For instance, this distillery is big. They go through 8 truck-loads -- semi-trucks, not little straight-bed haulers -- of grain every day, five days a week, 10 months a year. The corn's from Kentucky and Indiana, the rye comes mainly from Minnesota, and the barley malt from northern Indiana (which surprises me). The distillery (and the one at Boston) makes only bourbon; they bottle other spirits (they were running Lord Calvert when we were there), but they only make bourbon. There are 70 warehouses (70? 71? Damn, I didn't take my notebook, either!) in four spots within 30 miles; the warehouses include a few single-story 'flathouses', but mostly they're standard 'ironclad' rickhouses, including some new 9-story 50,000 barrel dreadnaughts (see, that's a nautical extension from "ironclad'...).

We tasted a little 68.5% white dog -- corn eau de vie -- and then, in the dump room, some 62.5% Knob Creek, right out of the barrel. It was awesome, sweet and authoritative. We drank that with Booker Noe's toast: "May there be no hell...and if there is, I'll see you there!"

Then it was off to Booker's house in Bardstown for the annual Bourboncue, a lunch that features a short bourbon tasting, lots of stories from Booker's son Fred Noe -- who has become a pretty good story teller, if not the charismatic figure his dad was -- and a bunch of pig meat and fixin's. I like this event, because it's not just bottom-feeding media members like me and a bunch of wholesalers: there's neighbors, some of Fred's buddies from the military high school he attended, and just folks.

And the barbecue's pretty damned good -- Bootleg Bar-B-Q, "so good it ought to be illegal," which is beside the liquor store on Bardstown Road where Chuck Cowdery and I stopped Thursday night. It's pulled pork with the sauce already all over it, which purists despise...I et it right up, and had one rib, which was NOT all sauced-up, and was pretty damned good. The beans in pot liquor were PDG too. (Oh, and again, this woman wasn't being eaten by a coyote at the Bourboncue, but it's kind of a funny picture, no?)

I had to run after bolting lunch; had a 2:00 phone interview back at my room. And...I took a corner too sharply -- not too fast, but too sharp -- caught the curb, and ripped the sidewall of the rear tire on my rental crapmobile. I could hear the air hissing out. Damn. I pulled over, locked it, and hustled to the room, cranked up the AC, and did the interview (you'll see that in Massachusetts Beverage Business in November, a pair of single malt sidebars). Then I changed into shorts and a t-shirt, and went and changed the tire. Damn again.

After I got that done, and told the rental company about it (and can't I just wait to find out how much reaming that's going be...), I went out to Heaven Hill's Bourbon Heritage Center, where the lovely (and truly talented) Lynne Grant greeted me. Lynne was lured to Bardstown to create and run the Bourbon Heritage Center after running visitor centers for The Macallan, Famous Grouse, and Highland Park. Lynne gave birth to her first child, Hamish, a week after Bourbon Festival last year; she and her family are traveling to her home in Scotland to show him off tomorrow.

Lynne had a sample of the new limited edition William Heavenhill 225th anniversary bourbon for me. It's 127.6 proof, 18 years and 9 months old, and there are only 225 bottles, selling only at the Center...and they're $500 each. Jaw-dropping. (It was a sample, BTW, not a full bottle. But it was enough that I'll be bringing it with me to some events in the future to share the bounty, so...if you see me, what the hell, ask! Update...already shared 7/8 of the bottle. Sorry.) I got a chance to taste a little later Friday evening, but...I've got work to get done right now, so I'm going to call this a post, and get that done.

Dinner with the Beams of Heaven Hill

Well... After a smooth flight from Philly to Louisville, the Heaven Hill folks got me to the Brown Hotel, where I settled into my room and munched on some of the goodies they'd provided (this is by way of letting you know that yes, they paid for this). After a bit of refreshment, checking of e-mail, and amusement at the responses to the #3 STAG Poll (more fun to come, folks), I spiffed up my ensemble and went down to the lobby bar, where I met up with the other folks on the junket -- fellow whiskey writers Chuck Cowdery, Gary Regan, Stuart Ramsay, and drinks writers Terry Sullivan (who does some damned funny stuff for us in Malt Advocate; happily he'd brought along his equally funny wife, Monica), Bill Spain (who covers booze and tobacco for MarketWatch), and Allen Katz -- and Heaven Hill master distiller Craig Beam. We had a round of last year's Evan Williams Single Barrel -- nice way to start an evening -- and headed out to Limestone, bourbon country chef Jim Gerhardt's restaurant.

I'd heard about Limestone, and had the pleasure of Jim Gerhardt's cooking -- he's devoted to the foods of Kentucky, and tries to use them as much as possible -- and I was looking forward to this dinner. We stepped into the lounge, where Craig's father, Parker Beam, was waiting for us. Always a pleasure to speak to Parker, a real gentleman. We sipped more Single Barrel -- then Terry and I shifted to Elijah Craig 12 Year Old -- and munched on some nice finger food: Jim's signature potato crisps, barrel-smoked trout tartlets (not so hot: low on flavor, didn't realize they were smoked until I saw the menu), some sliced house-made sausage with caramelized shallots on toasted bread crisps (delish, and quite nice with the shallots), and EWSB-glazed beef tenderloin on dark rye bread (very nice, about the size of a quarter, and beautifully tender).

We adjourned to the next room for dinner. But first, we had an assortment of whiskey treats. There were three of the beautifully designed bottles of Parker's Heritage Collection on the table: solid, big-shouldered no-neck bottles, looking like three offensive linemen. They were bottlings from the three different dumpings ("Sounds so much better than "three dumps," doesn't it?" said Chuck) of the whiskey: one at about 122 proof, one at 127, and one at 129. We got sip samples of each, and sniffed and sipped; added water and repeated. I found my thrill in the 127, which seemed richer than the other two. Chuck said the whiskeys were clearly Parker's: "You like the barrels from up in the hotter floor of the warehouse," and Parker quickly agreed.

This is an 11 year old whiskey that came from barrels with tapered staves. We tried to get an explanation of just what that meant -- and why it was important -- but either we weren't being clear or the bourbon was too loud, because I just couldn't get clear on what it was. Parker did say that they had some of these tapered stave barrels done with a deeper, #4 char, and that because of the tapered staves, there was more loss from a barrel. Hmmm... More experiments are going on, he and Craig said, and it sounded like a lot of them had to do with cooperage. Some of the experimental bits sounded almost trivial -- heads held together with tongue-and-groove joints instead of the usual dowel pegs, for instance -- and Chuck suspected it might be experimentation for the sake of experimentation.

The whiskey we tasted next was anything but that. Craig pulled out a pint bottle of malt whisky, Kentucky-style: 51% malt, 49% corn, but otherwise done by bourbon-style procedures -- new charred oak barrels, same proof points as their bourbon, and so on. It was mighty young, only about 6 months in the barrel, and it smelled it. The flavor was, well, "interesting," as Gary put it with a self-realizational grin. There was clearly corn, but some of the silkier sweetness of malt. I'd like to see what this was like with about 70% malt, and about 5 more years on it. Interesting, yes. Potential? Harder to say. Sure is good to see Heaven Hill continuing to push things.

Dinner commenced. We got three spears of white asparagus with thin slices of Newsom's Country Ham (crisp light sparrowgrass and salty, rich ham), topped with a luscious Sauce Bearnaise that hit a great balance between creamy and tart. Then it was EWSB-Scented Apple Celery Soup -- good, but I'm just not big on celery. The next course was a cioppino with clams, crawfish tails, and lemonfish (I think he said lemonfish), finished with EWSB. I was not that nuts on this one, either. The fish was delicious, a delicate texture, but the sauce was overpowered by the bourbon. Jim said after the meal that he doesn't like doing reductions of bourbon, but prefers to add it right at the end of cooking.

The next, main course, hit me right between the eyes, the high point of the dinner: veal scaloppini with an EWSB truffle sauce, braised red cabbage, and spatzel. I got one whiff of it -- rich nutty meat, delicately measured bourbon and hint of earthy truffle -- and asked the waitress if I could please skip the wine -- a cabernet I just wasn't warming to -- for this course and get a pint of the Bluegrass Brewing Nut Brown Ale I'd seen on tap in the lounge. She brought it, and it was a magnificent match for the hot veal and sauce. I was in heaven. Dessert brought apple strudel and whiskey sauce, which was even better with a little more of that 127 proof Parker's.

After sitting around making fun of each other for a while, we went back to the hotel, where we settled down in the hospitality suite, and, believe it or not, sang. Gary Regan had us laughing ourselves sick with a full-motion version of "O'Reilly's Daughter," I sang the old Phil Harris chestnut "The Preacher and the Bear," and Sullivan was quite moving with a quiet, heartfelt rendition of John Prine's "Sam Stone," looking just like an old Irish pub singer...or, well, how I imagine that would look. I also made everyone try some Hpnotiq, the blue tropical fruit juice and cognac ... stuff Heaven Hill imports. I'd never tried it, and I was damned if I was going to be all alone. Well, it tasted mostly like fruit juice, tropical fruit juice, but perked up right nice when I tipped some bourbon in it. Finally around 1:30 we called it a night. I'm sorry there are no pictures, but it's probably for the best.