Chuck Cowdery's "Bourbon Strange" Is Now Available For The Kindle

One of the most important books to me in discovering about Bourbon is Chuck Cowdery's "Bourbon Straight".

But as the years have passed since its first printing in 2004 a lot has happened (such as the ascension  of the Craft movement with the rise of the NDP issue, the demise of the age statement,  stocks of Stitzel-Weller drying up, etc...  I've consistently recommended "Bourbon Straight" to people looking to know more about Bourbon, but usually with a small apologetic about some of the information being a little dated.  It's been a well known fact that Chuck has been working on a new version.  Today Chuck announced that it was out on Kindle, with the print version to follow in a few weeks.  

It's called "Bourbon Strange".  As of now it's my current read.  I'll review it as soon as I've devoured it.

This is the link to purchase the Kindle edition:
http://www.amazon.com/Bourbon-Strange-Surprising-Stories-American-ebook/dp/B00MNWKS1Y

*Chuck Cowdery is the author of the Bourbon Country Reader magazine and the indispensable Bourbon news blog http://chuckcowdery.blogspot.com/

He is also the author of other important whiskey books including

The Best Bourbon You'll Never Taste
http://www.amazon.com/Bourbon-Reserve-Straight-Whiskey-Distilled-ebook/dp/B008076O6E
and
Small Barrels Produce Lousy Whiskey
http://cowdery.home.ix.netcom.com/~mbky/smallbarrels.htm

Stitzel-Weller Old Fitzgerald Bonded Bourbons From Different Eras: Speaking Kindly of the Dead.

Old Fitz S-W BIBs. 1997 (left), 1959-1966 (right).

The story of Stitzel-Weller (S-W) is a story of something very beautiful that died.  It has become a symbol and a touchstone of something uniquely and particularly American which is seeming to pass away in a larger cultural sense too - which gives the story a lot of resonance.  What that thing is, exactly, is bigger than a single phrase and hard to pin down - but it's along the lines of  'a perfectionist vision of how Bourbon should be made', a Southern gentlemanly code, and a 19th century set of values that placed craftsmanship first and seemed to typify the United States of America in its period of expansion and glory.  This period, like the American obsession with craftsmanship itself, went through a nadir where it seemed to disappear, and is now being reborn.  Stitzel-Weller is a slice of a vanished America where we made the best cars, did business with a hand shake, and liked richly flavored Bourbon.

Stitzel-Weller, formed from the pre-Prohibition partnership of Pappy Julian Van Winkle's and Alex Farnsley's Weller (a wholesaler), and A. Ph.Stitzel's distillery, that was incorporated as "Stitzel-Weller in 1933.  In Prohibition, A. Ph. Stitzel was one of only six companies in the whole country with a license to distill medicinal whiskey.  It ended in 1972 when it was sold to Norton Simon Inc. in the midst of Bourbon's decline.  Norton Simon apparently purchased the great reputation of S-W for the expressed purpose of dumping a large quantity of inferior Bourbon that had been made at the Kentucky River Distillery in Jessamine County into a brand that had a market.  After the takeover they immediately began mixing this inferior whiskey with awesome S-W stocks in the base expression "Old Cabin Still" (a story with personal ramifications for me, dating back to the early 80s - but that's another post).  But even after Norton Simon's takover, the distillery continued to produce Old Fitz and the other brands at a high level of quality.   Then the distillery went though a parade of hands and ended up with United Distillers (which formed Diageo later) who finally closed it in 1992 and treated the facility as a semi abandoned asset of warehouses.  The whisky in those warehouses has continued to come out in the decades between then and now.  Older bottlings of Old Fitz (and other S-W brands) continued to be made with S-W juice for a number of years (until the late 1990s).

Postcard of a newly completed new post Repeal Stitzel-Weller distillery circa 1935.

But the story of Stitzel-Weller is far more than one of corporate takeovers.  It is the story of the personalities that built the business culture that ended up with a Bourbon that was reputed to be absolutely the best in the golden era of American whiskey distilling.  Chief among them is, of course, Julian P. "Pappy" Van Winkle. Pappy was the president, and while never the master distiller who actually made the whiskey, was the heart of the operation which he governed by an honest, forthright, and gentlemanly creed:

"We will sell fine Bourbon.  

At a profit if we can.  

At a loss if we must.  

But always fine Bourbon".  

After Stitzel-Weller was born as a corporation in 1933 with Repeal, they immediately began construction of a new much larger distillery in Shively, KY and it was completed in 1935.
They put Pappy's motto on a sign and posted it at the distillery's gates.  It was a clear commitment to a perfectionist level of craftsmanship.  And, as it happened, the moment passed.  Pappy died in 1965 and his son, Julian P. Van Winkle Jr. took over.  But the market was already heading South and with his sister and 49% of the board voting stock wanting to sell, he did in 1972 for the sake of family unity.  Then S-W went down the Norton-Simon rabbit hole on its path to closure.  But Julian Jr. wasn't done.  He subsequently created the "Old Rip Van Winkle" brand and contracted to buy Stitzel-Weller whisky and bottle it himself as a NDP.   His son, Julian III went into the same business and expanded it, and created the signature expressions of Pappy Van Winkle's Family Reserve 15, 20, and 23 that have become the vanguard of the tulip mania that is high-end Bourbon today.  Bottles of Pappy Family Reserve are effectively unobtainable these days and sell for many many multiples of the non-existent retail price.  Part of the mania for Pappy is its extremely high critical ratings - the buzz around which helped rekindle the widespread resurgence of ultra-high-end Bourbon in the mid-1990s.  Part of it is the tireless efforts of Julian P. Van Winkle III as a brand ambassador for his family's legacy.  Certainly part of it must be credited to the beautiful family history his sister Sally Van Winkle Campbell  wrote titled "But Always Fine Bourbon - Pappy Van Winkle and the Story of Old Fitzgerald".  In a brief but satisfyingly detailed book, Campbell tells the story of the distillery, Pappy, and the culture that thrived around a traditional and home-spun notion of a gentleman's honor code of whiskey.  It has the love and family focus of a book written by a doting granddaughter - but it also packs a good amount of detail about the business operations of Stitzel-Weller including an impressive tour of the distillery, illustrated by photographs from the United Distiller's collection (the company that ended up

The Key to Hospitality - reverse label of the 1959-1966 BIB.

with Stitzel-Weller in the end).  Many of the details in this post come from that book.  I highly recommend it.  This book certainly contributed mightily to the mystique of Pappy's whiskey.  But, honestly, the whiskey speaks for itself.  People tend to fall in love with it.  Wheated (with wheat in the mash bill instead of rye) - it's very sweet - but the sweetness is balanced by a big load of very mature quality old growth American white oak.  The wheated mash bill is a legacy of A. Ph Stitzel who made this mash bill in his old distillery before Prohibition.  It was the quality of this whiskey which had originally attracted Pappy and led him to the partnership.  It was as if Stitzel used oak spice in the place of rye spice to balance the extra load of candy apple sweetness.  That was accomplished with barrel management.  Pappy's barrels didn't look like regular barrels.  The staves were much thicker and thus the coopers had to use an extra pair of hoops so the barrels look enormously beefy and armored.  The whisky tastes enormously beefy from the oak perspective as a result.  This is a high amplitude balance; the bass of oak and the treble of sweet are turned way up high.  But more than this is the dark and rich tonal palette and thick mouth feel.  It's nutty and musky like an Olorosso sherry or a dark Cognac rancio  This bigness, balance, and heavy richness has made this Bourbon legendary.

Stitzel Weller made 4 brands:  Old Fitzgerald, Weller, Old Cabin Still and Rebel Yell.  They each had a niche.  Rebel Yell was the smoothie, with a marketing angle that targeted the South with its residual patriotism for The Confederacy.  Cabin Still was lighter and sweeter - "for sportsmen" according to Pappy.  Apparently because it didn't need as much air time to open up.  Weller was lighter as well, but also stronger.  Old Fitz was the unapologetically old fashioned full body and full flavor oak bomb at the top.  It was sold exclusively bottled in bond at 100 proof until Pappy's death when his son Julian immediately introduced an 86 proof version: Old Fitzgerald Prime.  It's significant that Sally Van Winkle Campbell chose to subtitle her history of Stitzel-Weller "The Story of Old Fitzgerald".  Old Fitzgerald wasn't just another brand in a portfolio: it's was Pappy's statement product.  Pappy had loved the brand and pursued it for years during Prohibition from its original owner S. Charles Herbst.  It had been named for a bondsman (a security guard at a bonded warehouse who enforced federal tax policy) who had such a good palate for picking good barrels to pilfer from that his name became a byword for a good barrel.  Herbst sold the brand after Prohibition shut him down.  In Campbell's book Herbst asks for $25,000 but ends up selling for $10,000.  On the Bourbon Enthusiast's excellent S-W timeline, the sale is listed as being for $4,000 in two payments in 1922 and 1925.  

(a faded date stamp is revealed to be Spring 1959 - Fall 1966 using high contrast photo filtering)

Like a lot of Bourbon enthusiasts I've encountered Sitzel-Weller's Bourbons in a variety of independent bottlings since the distillery's closure.  It has ended up in certain bottles from Willett's, Black Maple Hill, Michter's, Jefferson's Presidential Select 17 and 18, and, of course, Old Rip Van Winkle and Van Winkle Family Reserve.  Some of these bottlings are really stunning.  But the whiskey that Pappy himself considered the statement of his art was S-W's flagship brand:  Old Fitzgerald.

I've been assembling samples and bottles of Old Fitzgerald from three eras:

1. 1950s and 60s - during the tenure of Pappy himself.  Represented here by a Very Old Fitz 1953-1961 (thanks, Mike Jasinski), and a 7 1/2 year old Old Fitz BIB 1959-1966 (full bottle found hunting)  
2. 1965-1972 - the tenure of Julian Van Winkle Jr., represented by a 1966-1972 Old Fitz BIB "Fighting Irish" decanter (thanks, Mike Jasinski) and 
3.  The time of closure represented by a 1997 dated Old Fitz BIB (courtesy of Joshua Scott).  

I'm also tasting a pair of Old Fitz Primes from the era of its introduction - the Julian Jr. period:  an Old Fitz Prime decanter from 1970 (Mike Jasinski) and a pair of Italian export market minis sourced from a German auction house.  Master dusty hunter Mike Jasinski was clearly a big part of this story, providing half the samples tasted.  Kudos to Mike for both being able to find these in the wild and for generously sharing them in the interest of science.



The idea is to get a sense of the flavor profile of this expression and how it evolved in the decades spanning the heyday to the final days.

Very Old Fitzgerald 8 year old 1953-1961 50% abv

Color:  Deep amber with reddish coppery tints.

Nose: Beautiful deep oak with tremendous fidelity.  Sticking your nose in a the drawer of a fine old oak desk.  Plummy round malted milk and dark chocolate, pecans, preserved cherry and dark bourbon vanilla beans.  Further back, earthy loam and char and mineral note that sometimes comes off as fresh cut grass.  This nose is heaven.  It smells of time,

Palate:  Sweet on entry with candy apple, musky malt, cherry, vanilla, and cognac rancio.  The  expansion is spicy and redolent of old dark oak.  Oak tannin bitterness rises to meet the rancio and malted milk chocolate cherry sweetness.  The turn to the finish is full of rich oak desk - fine polished furniture; herbal bitters, char and earth.  Delicious darkly oaked Bourbon.  With extra air it gets a little sour.

The extra age here takes the wood flavors to new heights, but the body isn't as malty-rich as the nearly equally aged 7 1/2 year old BIB.
(Thanks, Mike Jasinski for this sample)

Old Fitzgerald BIB, 7 year old age statement tax stamp dated Spring 1959-Fall 1966 50% abv

Color Deep amber with rich reddish coppery tints, almost like a glass of Cocoa Cola but more reddish and less brown.

Nose: Deep, plummy, round, and constantly evolving in the glass.  Malted milk balls made with dark chocolate, dark cooked toffee, well cooked citrus compote containing preserved cherry, ginger, and baking spice. Cinnamon red hots and candy apples and the dark nutty vinous quality you find in old sherry and Spanish brandy.  And, ultimately, oak: rich and deeply iterated oak.  But not the sawn oak note you get so often in Bourbon; a rich furniture oak with sandalwood perfume.  This whisky smells like time.   Over half a century in the glass, we can expect bottle maturation to have full play here.  Dark and tannic, this one took weeks to open up.  It was tight and astringent at first.  As it opens it becomes glorious.

Palate: Complex and evolving as well.  Sweet and candied and at turns honeyed, the classic wheater notes are present: candy apple, sweet corn, peach citrus, and charred oak.  But there is so much more - all in a dark palette.  Molasses, malt, chocolate, oak char, oak tannins.  This is full bore rich, dark whiskey.  The combination of sweet and dark gives this bourbon enormous flavor amplitude.   The progression of the palate works like this:  Floral treacle sweet cherry vanilla on the opening at the tip of the tongue.  A big spicy expansion full of mandarin orange, oak tannins, dark chocolate, malt, caramel, molasses and old brandy rancio take sway and never let go.  At the turn robust hyper-detailed oak with darker notes of char joins the endless and continuing rancio and big brown sweet flavors and fade off into the sunset together with the mass of the attack moving across the middle of the palate to the rear in a stately and fully mouth encompassing way.  The mouth feel is oily and thick.  This is a masterpiece.  It's a dark rich spicy pudding.  This is a Bourbon that completely embraces its brown and rich flavors.  Such Bourbon isn't made any more and it makes me want to cry.

Old Fitzgerald BIB 6 year old crockery decanter ("Irish Luck") Spring 1966- Spring 1972 50% abv.

Color: medium amber.  Just a shade lighter than the '59-'66 BIB.

Nose:  similar but a tad drier than the '59-66 BIB.  More citrus and cherry, and less vanilla floral sweetness, dark char and rancio.  It's a year and half younger and you can smell it.

Palate:  Glorious in the classic Old Fitz ways: candy apple sweet on opening with nutty rancio, malted milk, and old preserved cherry vanilla.  Darkly tannic at the turn, big oak dominates the turn and the finish.  The balance seems better here than with the 1959-66, even while the heavy malt and rancio flavors that are so distinctive are less fully emphasized.  Is this Julian's take?  The same instincts leading Julian Jr. to start making Old Fitz Prime leading him to make a slightly younger less malty-funky expression of Old Fitz?  It's clearly the same brand, same recipe and style - just turned a notch down in amplitude.  (Thanks, Mike Jasinski, for the sample).

By 1997, S-W isn't automatic.  The label here specifies that the distillery is DSP-KY-16.  That's S-W

Old Fitgerald BIB, NAS bottle date 1997 50% abv

While distilling ended for Old Fitz at S-W in 1991, Old Fitz continued being made with aging stocks of S-W juice for another half decade or so.  This NAS Old Fitz BIB appears bottled in 1997 or 98.  Given that the whisky in that bottle was laid down in 1992 at the latest, it must have been 5-6 years old, most likely.

Color: coppery medium amber

Nose: Candy apple, orange compote, orchid flowers, apricot nectar, floor varnish, and hints of pineapple and coconut.

Palate: Big and floral opening - almost perfumed.  Candy apple from the nose meets fruity cherry vanilla. Citrus and florals meet in the mid palate which brings a big dose of fragrant tannic oak.  Darker notes of char, caramel and leather rise up in concert with the oak.  There's a very nice balance to the three aspects - flowers, citrus, and dark oak and leather in the turn to the finish which isn't as long as you'd suspect, but full of the characteristic Stitzel-Weller Old Fitz rounded oaky bitters on the finish.  It's remarkable how it's the same flavor profile as the 1966 stuff, but younger, sweeter, and more dynamic.   It's pretty clear that the Old Fitz product was being bottled younger and maybe was being barreled at a higher proof - but the recipe was the same.  Tasted head to head with the 1966-1972 crock 6 year old version of Old Fitz it is a hair lighter and less malty-rancio rich, but only a hair.  Frankly, I was surprised how close they were.  I could never pick between them blind.

The 1997 date stamp.

Pappy resisted the market forces which led most whiskey makes to offer lower proof versions than Bottled In Bond 100 proof.  Here's a 1963 ad which expresses Pappy's creed on the topic:

But when Julian Van Winkle Jr. took over in 1966 the first thing that he did was introduce Old Fitz Prime:

1966 ad announcing the new Old Fitzgeral Prime expression 86.8 proof.

Old Fitz Prime (86 proof) mid 1960s mini (left) and 1970 duck decanter sample

Old Fitz Prime Duck Decanter 1970 43.4% abv.

Color: medium amber
Nose: dusky sandalwood oak, candy apple floral vanilla cherry compote.  Sweet, fruity, dusky, musky oaky, and intense.
Flavor: sweet with toffee, caramel, malted milk balls, a quality of Spanish dark brandy with dark sherry grape and rancio and a dose of floral vanilla on the opening.  Succulent dark cherry joins at the expansion, with notes of chocolate, and even light and sweet coffee.  Just beautiful.
The added bit of dilution in the Primes takes the oak tannin intensity down a notch and opens the palate with more sunny sweetness, but at the expense of a bit of richness of mouth feel.  This is an excellent and classic flavor profile.  Despite the lower proof, one of the tastiest pours of the evening.

Old Fitz Prime Italian Export market 6 year old Bonded 1/10th pint 43% abv - around 1965

For dating, note the two tone (white and gold) painted label and see #4 at:
http://www.ne.jp/asahi/miniature/smallworld/image/BourbonO.htm
The all gold color scheme of the late 50s turned into a gold and white two toned painted label mini like the ones here.  By 1968 a paper label had replaced the painted one.
Not technically a "Prime" at 43.4%, but an export version of the Bonded bottled at 43%.

Color: medium amber
Nose: very similar to the decanter: sandalwood oak, candy apple, black cherry fruit, floral vanilla.
The palate is also nearly identical: toffee sweet on opening with musky malted milk balls, dark cherry, floral vanilla, with a marked minty note as a distinguishing feature.  Lots of fragrant oak.  Really delicious.

The Primes succeed because the added water helps sweeten and mellow the dark tannin oak of the 100 proof BIB.  The trade off is the lighter mouth feel.

Old Fitz 1959-1966 BIB. Look at the color!

There is a remarkable unity in the flavors of the Old Fitzgeralds of the Sitzel-Weller distillery across the decades between the heyday and the end.  It's a heavy and old fashioned style of whisky.  Dark sweet and sherry-nutty were more common attributes among Bourbons of the early 20th century.  It was clearly inspiration for the  first year Eagle Rare 101 from Old Prentice (the malted milk and rancio).  For decades, S-W's whiskies were the only wheated mash bill whiskies around.  So the various wheaters you find now are all descendants of these S-W whiskies.  The crafting and attention to quality for which it is famed is immediately apparent.  S-W Old Fitz is a lush and heady beauty.  Candied, fruity, richly oaked.  (Some would say over oaked).

Old Fitz tastes old fashioned because that's the ideal of whiskey that Pappy had in his mind.  Pappy wasn't going to compromise on anything to do with the whisky - and that whiskey was all he was going to do.  In the end, Pappy stood for something.  He made his stand on the topic of quality Bourbon in the way he understood it - timelessly - to be.  Ultimately his fierce dedication to this inflexible definition of quality left his company too specialized on a type of whiskey that had become nonviable in the market to survive.  It's a shame.  Meanwhile, change is inevitable and isn't only about loss.  You can love a mid-century American car and note that "they don't make them like they used to" while still driving and enjoying a new car - which has certain benefits.  For example, compared to, say, Buffalo Trace's statement wheater - W.L. Weller from the Buffalo Trace Antique Collection, old Old Fitz is distinctive - but isn't unambiguously better.  This shows me that the state of the art isn't necessarily lost.  Although, clearly, something very special was indeed lost:  a culture of the grace of old time Southern gentlemen, the passion of craftsmen, and a sense of commitment to keeping a tradition of excellence - family owned.  Bottom line, Pappy's business was about family.  And that human dimension was the first thing that disappeared into the maw of the culture of corporate behemoths.

Pappy's name and the legend of his whiskey have become a mania in the Bourbon world at the current moment.  People are scrambling for the brands that have become associated with his legacy and don't seem to care when what they are actually buying is a cleverly made Buffalo Trace replica.  Old Fitz is now made by Heaven Hill and doesn't share S-W's lofty reputation among the hunters and the epicures.  (I need to taste the new Old Fitz.  It's not sold in my area - but I do get on the road from time to time.)  My purpose with this post isn't to stoke the mania for S-W further.  Auction prices are through the roof for Very Old Fitzgerald and vintage bottles of Old Fitz.  The hype ship has already fully sailed.  My purpose is to take a moment and remember Pappy's bourbon and try to understand what makes it great.  The distillery tour in "Always Fine Bourbon" tells the story:  Old Fitz was mashed a long time from carefully milled corn, barley, and wheat using a closely guarded old yeast and limestone aquifer well water (that is now no longer safe to use).  It was barreled at a low proof into high quality custom made bespoke cooperage and aged a long time for Bourbon.  It wasn't afraid of tasting rich 'n thick like "Old Man's" whiskey.  In In order to move on we have to know where we've been.  America isn't the same place it was in 1959 or 1965.  That moment in history has passed, but with some passion and some love our best days may still be in the future.

A year ago news came come out that Diageo is fitting Stitzel-Weller to restart Bourbon production there.
http://chuckcowdery.blogspot.com/2013/01/after-more-than-20-years-stitzel-weller.html 
The gist is that they are going to make Bulleit there:
http://whiskycast.com/decision-time-for-diageo-on-stitzel-weller/
BourbonTruth takes a deeper dive into the buzz of activity and the rumors and evidence for why:
http://thebourbontruth.tumblr.com/post/62732920744/whats-going-on-behind-the-gates-of-the-old

So, Stitzel-Weller will soon be making Bourbon again.  But, apparently, it won't be what we know of as Stitzel-Weller Bourbon.  It will be Diageo's replica of Four Roses' expression of Bulleit Bourbon.  And yet, Pappy's ideals are very much alive out there in the world of distilling.

Update:  As the story unfolded it became clear that production was not being restarted.  Rather, Diageo converted the old office house into the "Bulleit Frontier Whiskey Experience" - a tourist destination on the Bourbon Trail to be the spiritual home of their Bulleit whiskey expressions (Bourbon and Rye) - neither of which has any connection with the distillery in any way, as far as I know.  

"Whiskey Women" - the untold story of how Fred Minnick became the new voice of whiskey for a generation.

"Whiskey Women: The Untold Story of How Women Saved Bourbon, Scotch, and Irish Whiskey" is so important that
I own(ed) 3 copies of it.  I have carried it around with me for months, inhabiting it.  I have consumed a pre-release publisher's timed self destructing electronic edition (based on my Amazon reviewer status), a signed hard cover (destroyed in an accident), and finished with a kindle edition.  I consider it an important book - the kind that can change your view of the world.  Or at least of the whisky world - and, in my view, that counts for a lot.  The particular view that "Whiskey Women" undoes is the notion that whiskey is a man's drink and that, after that fact, it's OK for women to like it too.  The "it's OK, honey, I'll scoot over for you and make room for you on this bench on the whiskey express" notion that is embodied in such facts as whiskey marketing people developing extremely light whiskies to be marketed to women and developing flavored whiskies specifically to appeal to the women's market.  For example:

"Though industry officials don’t like to talk about it, it’s no secret that one initial aim of the [flavored whiskey] bottlings was to bring women into the whiskey fold. “I do think it’s a major effort to go after female drinkers in an aggressive way,” Mr. [Dave] Pickerell said."

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/06/26/dining/flavored-whiskeys-expand-the-market.htm
This point of view is nothing new.  In fact it is very old and well nigh universal - but it doesn't square with a reality where women invented and were the ones to practice the art of brewing beer in the earliest eras of civilization and where women invented the art of distillation and where women were the first and traditional practitioners of the art.  Whiskey was born as a home made agricultural product as an outgrowth of the kitchen, and as a medicine that emerged as part of a woman-centered tradition of folk healing.  Fred Minnick documents all of this in Whiskey Women in a careful and authoritative way.  He does so in a way that isn't all that common in whiskey books.  Minnick takes us back to ancient source materials, Sumerian cuneiform tablets, medieval illuminated manuscripts, and a host of other source materials in a mature approach that melds scholarship with journalism.

But, as Minnick takes pains to show, this feminine locus of domestic whisky production was a dual edged sword in the culture wars that raged around whiskey in its initial rise from locally produced agricultural product to highly political source of tax revenue and then focus of industrial revolution mechanization and economies of scale.  In this era women distillers were demonized, hunted, exploited, and ultimately displaced.  Women making whiskey as part of traditional folk healing became connected with witchcraft and women distillers were burned at the stake as witches.  In the American culture that followed in the 19th century whiskey become intimately connected with prostitution and gambling and addiction.  It was a culture that produced strife and the women-led temperance movement which gave rise to Prohibition.  This movement portrayed whiskey as part of a complex of sinful anti-family activity on the part of men that included the image of whiskey bearing women as temptresses.  This created the great trope of women in bars as lures to a dissipated and destructive path.  This ultimately resulted in general banning of women from working in bars in many parts of the country for decades in the period from  Repeal to the 1950s and 60s.

Prohibition was a time of organized bootlegging and here women, once again, played a major role.  Minnick is on solid ground here with the fantastic stories of lady bootleggers, both high and low such as Gertrude, "Cleo" Lythgoe, "The Queen of the Bootleggers".   This stuff is fun.  The next historical moment is the movement for Repeal which was also led by a woman, Pauline Sabin.  And then the rise of single malt Scotch, greatly influenced by the woman who owned and ran Laphroaig, Bessie Williamson.  Bourbon's resurgence is connected with a number of fascinating women, as is the current global explosion of whiskey popularity.  We meet women master blenders, executives, brand creators, taste makers, and owners.  This cast of characters will be familiar to many whiskey enthusiasts.  There's plenty of #WhiskyFabric here.

And so we end up in the current day and into the ironic situation where women are becoming leaders of the whiskey world and the bar and cocktail scene and it's presented as though it is a "new thing".  Fred Minnick shows us this couldn't be further from the truth.  We have it backwards.  Women gave whiskey to the world and men took it from them, soiled it with big money, bloodshed, vice and greed and painted it as the very juice of the "Y" chromosome.  This is a fictional recasting of what whiskey actually is - something originally made in a kitchen that is part of the attributes of hospitality, medical and emotional care, and social interaction and there is nothing inherently male about any of it.  Get inside this idea and you'll understand why the Women In Academia Report listed this book on of the "Recent Books That May Be of Interest to Women Scholars" page.  "Whiskey Women" will change the nature of scholarship on the subject and I cannot see how it will not ultimately change the modern view of whisky's history and how it is told in the future.

(update...)  I recently wrote a post about how women are represented in American whiskey advertising and quoted heavily from "Whiskey Women".  You can see how Minnick's content inspired a whole thesis:
http://www.cooperedtot.com/2014/05/women-in-american-whiskey-advertising.html 

You have to understand that Fred Minnick wears an ascot, loves his bourbon, and has been to war. 

Fred Minnick isn't just a whiskey blogger, although he most definitely is one of those, and an important one - check out:
http://fredminnick.com/blog/
It's that Fred is also a professional journalist with a rapidly growing stature in the whiskey (and wider world).  He is a frequent contributor to Whiskey Advocate magazine:
http://whiskyadvocate.com/whisky/tag/fred-minnick/
He is the author of the Iraq war memoir Camera Boy.
http://www.amazon.com/Camera-Boy-Army-Journalists-Iraq/dp/1555716687
And, as a journalist, he writes regularly on a wide variety of topics for a wide variety of audiences.  But, significantly, he is commonly presenting aspect of the Bourbon world to the wider world, such as these articles in Scientific American:
http://www.scientificamerican.com/author/fred-minnick/
My point here is that Fred is more than just a guy who loves his bourbon, has been to war serving his country, and who wears an ascot.  He's also fast becoming one of the most important voices in America on the topic of America's whiskey.  I recommend you start keeping track of him, if you don't already.


FYI - if you want to read reviews of this book written by women whisky bloggers (and I recommend you do) check out the following:

Alwynn Gwilt's excellent review of this title:
http://misswhisky.com/2014/01/13/book-review-whiskey-women/

Johanne McInnis' interview with Fred - placing the book in a wider context:
http://whiskylassie.blogspot.com/2013/12/writer-circle-profile-fed-minnick-no.html

Susannah Skiver Barton's thoughtful and hard hitting review:
http://whattastesgood.net/2013/10/29/a-whisky-woman-on-whiskey-women/

Distilling Rob is a memoir straight from the heart.

Rob Gard’s book, Distilling Rob, Manly Lies and Whisky Truths is a personal memoir of rare sensitivity and honest introspection.  It tells a story of a man’s search for self acceptance and maturity amid a mess of dysfunction and doubt that will seem all too familiar to many.  The search leads him into and out of careers, women, bouts of introspection, and ultimately to a year spent on the legendary Scottish whisky island of Islay working at the resurrected distillery Bruichladdich.  The primary narrative elements of the story are revealed up front.  The direction of the narrative flow is inwards as layers of meaning are added to the structure you have from the beginning, like an onion.  In this pursuit, Gard’s narrative weaves moves back and forth between the current action and memories of the past which inform the emotional landscape he wrestles with.  This is very much the structure of my favorite novel –  Faulkner's Absalom! Absalom!  And like Absalom! Absalom! there are unexpected dark traumas like hidden pearls in the center (no spoilers!).  It’s a brilliant structure upon which to hang Gard’s story of moving from inner rejection to a modicum of self acceptance.

We live in a sensationalist culture of confessionalism and exaggerated bogus self abnegation. Gard, as a Hollywood PR man, journalist, and massive movie buff, is very aware of the stereotypical images of maleness.  Gard wrestles with the emotionally arid archetypes of manhood, finding those ultimately alienating and unfulfilling.  He eventually transcends them.  Rob initially learns about being a man from his withdrawn Vietnam vet father, mostly in the negative. He aspires to be like the men in the movies – withdrawn, tough, and mysterious. This has some big drawbacks.  After losing the love of his life he turns to a player lifestyle, boozing and lying, and become emotionally divorced from himself in a major way and flirts with disaster. But Gard is a sensitive and ultimately loving person who is driven to mend.  His quest is deeply resonant for me personally – particularly in my current phase of life.  I found that the issues raised struck powerfully close to home again and again for me.  This is a book with wide applicability for men who want to learn to feel their feelings and become more connected, whole, people.

Not that I don’t have a few issues.  On the downside, Gard spares us the nitty gritty details of the art of crafting whisky. We get scenes of Budgie the still man turning valves based on his cryptic empathetic connection with the whines and whooshes of the stills. We get the silent monosyllabic mash man Thomas, heavy with his unspoken regrets.  We get warm bonhomie and camaraderie from the barrel filling dunnage rousting Aaron and Jack.  But we don’t get to learn what Rob learns about the intricacies of making Bruichladdich. This book isn’t about that.  Whisky is a backdrop that weaves its way in and out of the story like the warp and woof of the fabric that underlies the weaving, obscured by the threads. Whisky is the dominant metaphor, and grand unifying theme of Distilling Rob – but there is little actual detailed information about Bruichladdich or whisky in general specifically there. No tasting notes or the kind of insider production details that some whisky geeks might have hoped for.

 But what Gard gives us is more valuable.  It’s about putting life in perspective, finding comfort in your own skin, and learning to become a man.

Gard helped finance the book with a successful and noted Kickstarter campaign.  Full disclosure – I participated in the campaign.  Not much use denying it.  Gard lists the participants at the end and my name is in black and white.  Furthermore, I’ve known Gard (on the Internet only) for over a year and have admired his writing.  Gard returned to whisky writing with a series of blog posts on the Whisky Guy Blog that were about the wider culture of whisky – a clear departure from the usual tasting notes style of whisky blogging which predominates.   I was immediately drawn to this more sophisticated perspective.  When Gard interviewed Johanne McInnis - @whiskylassie, she used the term “whisky fabric” and Gard blogged it. This term has become a twitter hash tag (#whiskyfabric) which now represents the unique social phenomenon of the warmth and acceptance of the global whisky community.  This is something remarkable and special about the whisky world – quite different from many epicurean areas.  All of this has clearly predisposed me to a positive impression of Gard’s work.  I view him as a brother – albeit one I’ve never met.  After having read Distilling Rob that impression is stronger than ever.

101 World Whiskies To Try Before You Die By Ian Buxton

I'm not going to beat around the bush here, Ian Buxton's 101 World Whiskies To Try Before You Die is utterly indispensable for both serious whisky enthusiast and the casual malt sipper alike. There is essential information on the explosion of new whiskies transforming the universe of malt that you will not find anywhere else - certainly not presented in such a cheerful, accessible, non-threatening fashion. Furthermore, in a subtle and not immediately obvious way that I will discuss later in this review it is an important whisky book - perhaps the most important in years. You need to own this book.

101 World Whiskies To Try Before You Die

101 World Whiskies is, initially it seems, very like the extremely well regarded tome Ian Buxton wrote a few years prior, 101 Whiskies To Try Before You Die, which did so very much to fan the flames of Scotch appreciation in its current renaissance of popularity. Ian Buxton is a distinguished writer of many books, articles, and columns in top whisky magazines such as Whisky Advocate. He's the kind of guy who knows absolutely everybody and is one of the folks who gets invited to taste and describe those $20,000 bottles that mortals like us never taste. As for the "101 Whiskies" books, these are both excellent works that, paradoxically, move me alternately to flights of delighted appreciation and spitting fits of wrath and rage as will become readily apparent. Both of these books are more collection of profiles and brief tasting notes than conventional 'whisky books'. By that, I mean that many common features of whisky books are absent. There are no ponderous chapters on whisky philosophy, production details and methodology, or history, and only a brief one paragraph on "how to drink" with no instructions on deciphering your own palate such as maps of the tongue. All this stuff is almost inexcusably omitted (or refreshingly so, depending on your perspective). Also missing are detailed history chapters that explain the roots of an industry, or even very detailed histories of various distilleries. You also will not find extensive and carefully written tasting notes. Buxton, indeed, sometimes omits tasting notes altogether; sometimes for the most important distilleries listed. An example is Highland Park, where Buxton not only fails to give us any tasting notes at all - he also cannot be pinned down to a recommended expression either - otherwise a firm rule throughout the book(s). I mean, if it's 101 whiskies you HAVE to taste before you shuffle off this mortal coil you should have 101 of them. Instead Buxton suggests, in the case of Highland Park, that we just have "all of them" - a suggestion he acknowledges as patently absurd even within that very chapter given the explosion of limited collector's releases and the fact that the 50 year old expression he depicts on that chapter's front retails for £10,000. This last part is particularly galling given that he assured us in the introduction that he would give us a tour of whiskies for drinking and that absurdly priced drams £1,000 and up flatly wouldn't be considered. Tasting notes, when actually provided, are often inexcusably brief - although I'll readily grant that what little is there is usually spot on. Furthermore, you don't get any scoring or rankings at all. Each chapter is illustrated with frontally nude bottle shots and nothing else - no illustrations of distilleries or images of the faces of the personalities mentioned. Images of lovely barley fields, castles, and malting floors are totally MIA.

But this isn't what really burns me up. What really gets me mad and confused and toss the book to the floor in a rage periodically are the facts that Buxton 1) doesn't like peat - but appears guilty enough of this that he includes a number of peat monsters ***in case YOU do***. 2) Sometimes includes whiskies he hasn't even tried or that don't even exist yet! 3) includes items that aren't even properly (ie legally) whisky. 4) Seems to evangelize major blends that I'm busy ignoring because I'm a whisky snob and look down my nose at major manufacturer blends in favor of rare single malts and interesting craft whiskies. To give you a taste of what I'm talking about let's look at # 1: Bakery Hill Cask Strength Peated Malt from Australia. Fascinating stuff. However, as Buxton readily admits, he hasn't actually tasted it. He provides us some tasting notes from the cut sheet. **Bam** - sound of book (Kindle, actually) hitting floor in a rage. How about # 78: Buffalo Trace, White Dog - Mash #1. Wow, a fascinating unaged new make that doesn't qualify as a Bourbon because it's new. It's technically whiskey - in the old sense of our colonial forebears. Well, if Ian Buxton is putting this in the 101 Whiskies you MUST try before you DIE he probably thinks it's pretty damn well good, right? Not so fast. I'm going to actually quote Mr. Buxton on this one:

"Apart from the curiousity value, though, what do you actually use this stuff for? Well, enterprising cocktail experts have been mixing it into some innovative and truly unusual cocktails where the very high strength has some value and, er, that's about it."

"Rather than buy a whole bottle yourself (even allowing for the fact that it comes in a half-bottle size), you might want to consider buying this with friends and using it to kick off a tasting session. Nothing will more clearly demonstrate the role of barrel aging and the impact of good wood on whisky. After which you can quickly move on to the proper stuff!"

**BAM** (sound of kindle hitting the floor in a rage... again... poor little e-book reader). There are so many amazing whiskies, and Buxton is having me buy something that's maybe good for cocktails (like gin or vodka) but isn't so fine on its own (as new make) so I should plan on splitting it with friends rather than own a whole bottle. Is this just me or is this august gentleman looking for a kick in the shins?

Now, where was I? Oh yes, you absolutely must read 101 World Whiskies. Why? because it is a superb profile of where the world's malt whisky distilling scene is headed at the current moment. Interesting and worthy new malt whiskies are coming out of crazy places such as Holland, Germany, France, South Africa, the USA, Australia, England, Spain, Belgium, Canada, Ireland, Japan, Wales, and even (this may shock you) Scotland. Buxton describes scores of distilleries and expressions I've never even heard of - and I follow this stuff somewhat avidly. Buxton does more than list these revelations, he describes their context and why, exactly, you want to taste them. Why you need to, in fact. He does so with merciful brevity, an infectious good cheer, and a friendly aspect often missing from enthusiast's narratives. This is one part of the magic of "101 Whiskies To Try Before You Die". He makes you fall in love with a new whisky on virtually every page. He very quietly fills you with a passion for the malt and its people and its houses both great and small. He attacks your biases, (seemingly no matter what they are) yet he evangelizes the whisky topics I, personally find most vital: whisky tastes better bottled at higher strength, for example, and the less messed with the better.

But 101 World Whiskies isn't simply a catalog of obscure and weird drams.  It's far too varied.  Rather it's a catalog of what you should want to try - and why. And, yes, there are tons of weird obscure drams you've never heard of - but there are also tons of mainstream blends you may have been too snooty to desire lustfully (I certainly was). Buxton fixes that. There are some non-whisky items here too, a liqueur and a whisky fruit/spice infusion. Buxton leaves you lusting hard for those too. Indeed, it's this quality if inciting interest and lust, all without hyperbole or rants or volume of any kind that is on the whole, rather remarkable.

Did I mention that each short chapter is exactly the right length to enjoy while "using the facilities"? This "bite size" aspect makes reading Buxton feel a lot like feeding from your favorite bag of chips ("crisps" if you come from one of the countries where people drive on the wrong side of the road - like Ian Buxton). 'Once you pop', so to speak, 'you can't stop'. And you emerge revitalized and incredibly aware of a whole brave new world, with such wondrous drams in it. There is a special talent in being able to convey a great deal of information in a very small number of words. Buxton is a master at it. His brief profiles tell you a tremendous amount, almost without you realizing it. He has an ability to pack a dense amount of information into few words but have it feel breezy, conversational, and, above all, friendly.

Recently Steve Urey (Sku) wrote about the end of whisky's 'Golden Age' on top American whisky blog Sku's Recent Eats. His point was that the explosion of popularity of whisky has resulted in prices shooting through the roof, and hard to find expressions becoming unobtainable. There's also the question about the loss of complexity in the flavor profiles of whiskies over the past few decades because of mechanization (or perhaps deliberate choice) - such as the one I frequently wrestle with as described in the Dramming.com article Has Whisky Become Better, Worse, Or Just Different. These discussions can lead to a sense of loss. The implications of these narratives is that the epicurean opportunities of the Whisky world are becoming diminished. 101 World Whiskies is an antidote to these feelings. Reading Buxton fills me with a contrary "sense of gain". There is a huge world of new whiskies, and new expressions, and even new flavor profiles and some of them are really good. And there is more of this new good stuff going on than you knew about, or even had hopes of in your secret heart. And, furthermore, this new good stuff is coming from all over, including established brands and even stuffy mainstream blends that you wouldn't think of at all in searching for what's new. Reading Buxton makes me feel that the golden age is yet to come.  This optimism creeps in many parts of the lovingly detailed descriptions in many areas of the book, such as Whisky Castle from Switzerland, where Ian's prose waxes into the beauty of true affection. In this radiant light the true impact of 101 Whiskies becomes apparent: an almost seditious expansion of whisky's world view. This isn't Ian Buxton's invention, but with this book he has taken up the mantle of an evangelist for a kind of positivism about the future of whisky.

But, wait, there's more.  In a subtle and almost sneaky way, the biggest and most disruptive aspect of Buxton's 101 Whiskies books isn't the text narrative, factual content, or editorial perspective. It's the selections themselves. In choosing a set, Buxton is making an argument. As it is, the argument is as personal and subjective as an argument can possibly be. Buxton bends over backwards to say so in the introduction and at various points. However, Buxton isn't making his decisions lightly and it shows. He is carving a set and they stand like the stones of Stonehenge - individual and hewn - but in a common configuration and forming a common whole. This common whole, that you don't immediately see until you've read and understood and thought about the set of selections, is a powerful statement about how to appreciate whisky. In this aspect 101 World Whiskies stands head and shoulders above its brother and emerges, in my opinion, as an important book. Buxton wants you to be rounded. He wants you to be worldly. He wants you to transcend your own limitations and the blinders of preconception that hinder virtually every community of drinkers I've ever come across. That is the special genius of this book. This is why I picked up my kindle off the floor and resolved to grab a bottle of Buffalo Trace White Dog Mash #1 - tail firmly planted between my legs - and take my medicine. I know that if I follow Buxton down all these paths I will grow as a whisky drinker. It's a little bit like the part in Karate Kid where the master has the kid picking up the coat over and over. The logic isn't immediately apparent - but one day it's going to be the margin of glory and honor.

So buy 101 World Whiskies. Buy it as a bathroom read. Buy it as an excellent shopping list. But most of all buy it to have Ian Buxton lead you to become bigger inside. Buy it to have Ian Buxton fill your heart and your sails with the joy of discovery and the delicious anticipation for what is yet to come.

"Canadian Whisky - the portable expert" by Davin De Kergommeaux shines a brilliant spotlight on a vital area long overlooked

Canadian Whisky - the portable expert fills an enormous hole in the high-end whisky Zeitgeist where the largest selling whisky in the USA lives. Canadian whisky constitutes over 1/3rd of the American whisky market, and has so since forever (perhaps the Civil War) by being smooth. However, "smooth" has become a dirty word in the new high-end movement and there hasn't been a voice for Canadian whisky pride until now. Indeed, until this title, virtually nothing authoritative has been written about this vast and important area. Canadian Whisky - the portable expert is a stunning achievement that is really three books in one: 1) a treatise on whisky, its production, and how to appreciate it; 2) an economic and biographical history of the Canadian whisky industry: it's titanic industrialists, innovators, and entrepreneurs; and 3) a comprehensive set of tasting notes and distillery profiles. As such it is one of the most useful and complete books on a whisky segment that I have ever seen or, indeed could even imagine. And while the tone is authoritative and scholarly, the obsessive love and attentions to detail, plus the language of the epilogue makes it clear that De Kergommeaux is a partisan, a defender, of Candian whisky's particular and unique flavor profile and role in Canadian culture, life, and economy.

This isn't a book coming from some Canadian chamber of commerce type, however. Davin De Kergommeaux is one of the twenty-four Malt Maniacs - the elite group of whisky epicures who help mold and shape the culture and agenda of high end whisky epicurianism world-wide. Thus his whisky connoisseurship is impeccable and well predates his particular career as a blogger of and advocate for Canadian whisky. FYI - his blog http://www.canadianwhisky.org which has been around for a couple of years, is clearly the web's preeminent location for Canadian whisky reviews, news and scholarship. Since 2011 De Kergommeaux's position eminence concerning Canadian whisky was confirmed further by his appointment as Canadian Contributing Editor to Whisky Magazine.

Canadian Whisky is a fairly compact 300 pages. It begins with the elements of grains, water, and wood. Then it moves onto the mechanisms and methods of distillation, blending and aging. Next is flavor science, tasting, and epicurianism covered from glassware to flavor mapping. These sections on how to drink are brief but as solid a treatise on the subject as you'll find. Then De Kergommeaux spends the next hundred pages on "A concise history of Canadian whisky" - which consists of biographies of mercurial geniuses and titans of industry such as Gooderham and Worts, Thomas Molson, Henry Corby, Joseph E. Seagram, Hiram Walker, J.P. Wiser and Sam Bronfman. But this section is far more - it is the history of towns and whisky expressions both booming and long gone. It is a vigorous bit of investigative journalism into a secretive industry that is seldom documented well - if at all. This is the first time that this history has been told with anything like this kind of comprehensive reach and vision. It is a gripping achievement which will appeal to students of history and economics as much as whisky enthusiasts. It reminds me quite a bit of wonderful books of economic history such as Ron Chernow's The House of Morgan. The book concludes with 100 pages profiling the nine distilleries of Canada: Alberta, Black Velvet, Candian Mist, Gimli, Glenora, Highwood, Hiram Walker, Kittling Ridge, and Valleyfield. Yes, all of Canada's titanic output of whisky comes from just those 9 distilleries.

Interspersed among the content, as color block side bars, are brief encapsulated tasting notes. Ultimately, this is the weakest part of the Canadian Whisky. Anyone who wants to read the full treatment of these tasting notes will have to visit http://www.canadianwhisky.org as the full tasting notes do not appear in Canadian Whisky at all. This is really much more of a book about Canadian Whisky's history, production, and industry than a flavor analysis of the particular expressions. Nevertheless, this book has revolutionized my understanding and appreciation of Canadian whisky - not only because I now have a much fuller sense of the full segment and the universe of expressions being made (and that were made in the past). It's the depth of analysis of how Canadian distillers achieve their flavor profiles - and why they labor so hard to achieve them - than has really affected my comprehension and perspective. Most Canadian whiskies are blends. "Base" whiskies, typically distilled via column still at high proof, aged in extensively refilled barrels, and then diluted down to a greater extent than many other whisky traditions, are mixed with rye "flavoring" whiskies. Rye gives the character and the base whiskies bring sweetness and smoothness. Massive averaging and blending traditions assure consistency - but also another layer of smoothing. The incredible smoothness and soft finishes of Canadian whiskies are no accident. They are the achievement of a century of careful tuning to kill the bugaboo of 19th century raw whisky - roughness and the taste of youth.

Bottom line, every whisky drinker or student of any related field needs to read De Kergommeaux's Canadian Whisky - the portable expert. It is a towering achievement in the field of whisky writing and shines a brilliant spotlight into a huge, important, and yet almost totally overlooked subject.