Showing posts with label Dusties. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dusties. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Updated: actual selections for the BeastMaster Dusty Battle: CooperedTot Vs The Well.

Branded as Gibson's Distilling Co. - this bottle actually
contains whiskey from Stewart Distillery, Baltimore.
Made prior to September, 1917.
Update:  My previous post announcing the upcoming BeastMaster Dusty Battle event between myself and and Josh Richholt showed a lot of pretty dusty bottle pics.  But I didn't specify which bottles we would actually be pouring - so it's just hype.  Except... it wasn't.  We are really going to be pouring some amazing bottles.   In brief, a Prohibition bottling of a Maryland rye, a 1950s bonded Beam, and a pair of glut era 1970s Bourbons: a Wild Turkey 101 8 year old, and National Distillers Bourbon DeLuxe.  There will be contemporary Beam and Wild Turkey so you can taste vanished expressions against today's head to head.  The ways that these flavor signatures have changed will be one of my topics.  But first, let me get specific with the two bottles I'll be pouring:
Stewart Distillery, RD No.12, Baltimore, MD around 1909


I Prohibition era bottling of Maryland Rye - labeled "Gibson" but actually "Stewart"

Distilled prior to September 8th, 1917 at The Stewart Distillery. Two stories in one because the bottle is labeled one way, but contains a different whiskey.  This kind of thing was common in Prohibition when brands were consolidated into a few companies who had medicinal whiskey licenses to sell to pharmacies.  Actual whiskey was taken from closed distilleries and stored together in a smaller number of more defensible concentration warehouses and brands and spirits were often conflated as expediency demanded.  In this case we have Lewis Rosensteil's Schenley operation - which would become the second largest liquor company in the United States (second only to American Medicinal Sprits, which became National Distillers after Repeal).  Rosensteil's concentration warehouse was at Schenley PA, RD No. 2 - and sure enough - the back label on this bottle says that whiskey from Stewart Distillery, Baltimore was "bottled for" Gibson Distilling Co. of Brownsville, PA (the heart of the Monongahela region), at Schenley's concentration warehouse.

These are interesting brands.  Gibson's was a classic pre-Prohibition high-rye mash bill "red" Mongahela valley rye.  Rosensteil purchased the brand and had obviously run out of the juice by the time this bottle was filled.  Schenley shifted production of Gibson's up to Canada after Repeal, and Gibson's remains one of the major brands of Canadian whisky to this day.  It's fascinating to see that its roots are in PA rye.

Stewart's is one of the brands of Maryland rye that disappeared with Prohibition.  In a 1920s lawsuit, the plaintiff alleged that the Stewart's Rye Whiskey brand dates back to 1788 (it also appears as Robert Stewart Distillery in the late 19th century).  According to tax records it was self-owned until 1901 when it was sold to the Carstair's Brothers - best known for Carstair's White Seal (another venerable Baltimore rye brand with 18th century roots.  Carstair's White Seal became a blended American whiskey after WWII).

This particular bottle has a front label that is age stated as 11 years old.  On the back is that odd statement "Made prior to September 8th, 1917".  The bottled in bond tax strip is missing so we can infer that this is probably a 1917-1928, or possible a 1916-1927 (or a 1915-1926). 

So this medicinal pint represents a rare opportunity to taste the whiskey from a vanished and historic Baltimore MD distillery which was part of the formation of Lewis Rosensteil's Schenley Industries in its heady formative days.


II 1955-1961 Jim Beam Bonded In Bond blue glass "Grecian" decanter.  100 proof.


How did mid-century Jim Beam differ from today's expressions?  Find out.  This lovely piece of mid-century kitch is a Mad Men era classic.  The decanter is blue glass - so there's no lead risk.  It feels and sounds full.  This bourbon is should be a rich with that mid-century heavy vanilla and brown-sugar loaded sweetness and that characteristic Jim Beam "funk" (which some people tastes like a barn smells - and other people say is "earthy").

This is a classic case of a historic American distillery which is still in major production.  Continuity and tradition will stand against industry changes in types of corn, length of mashing period, rising barreling proofs, shorter maturation periods, and other "enhancements to production".  Bottle maturation might also be a factor.  It's a half-century plus old decanter - who knows?  That's part of the fun of cracking a dusty.

And that's not all!  Josh Richholt is bringing some classic dusty Bourbons for our enjoyment as well:

a 1978 Wild Turkey 8/101 and a 1976 Bourbon deLuxe from National Distillers.  These are legendary delicious classics.

Want to attend.  Get your tickets here:
https://www.eventbrite.com/e/beast-masters-club-dusty-battle-tickets-38289228112
The green bottled in bond tax strip on the Beam Grecian Decanter showing
the year and season of distillation - and of bottling as a 6 year old.

Friday, October 20, 2017

The Dusty Battle: Coopered Tot v.s. The Well at BeastMaster


FYI - this post was updated with the actual selections that will be poured:  http://www.cooperedtot.com/2017/10/updated-actual-selections-for.html



Why drink old found bottles?  (The term "dusties" refers to whiskies which are no longer available, but which can be found in old liquor stores, orphaned on shelves). My friend Steve Zeller - the blogger of The Smoky Beast blog - sometimes tells a joke.

"How many whiskey bloggers does it take to screw in a light bulb?"
"A hundred.  One to screw in the light bulb and 99 to write about how the old bulb was better!"  


Old bottles, "dusties, with old styles,
obsolete age statements,
or produced at vanished distilleries.
But all joking aside, a lot of old bottles are really interesting, and many are better than the current versions and there are sound reasons why.  Over the last couple of decades, whiskey has become a victim of its own popularity - with age statements disappearing and younger whiskey now standing in.  Less flavorful faster-growing grains are used.  Higher-yielding faster-acting yeasts make more alcohol out of units of grain, at the expense of complex flavors.  Mashing periods have declined.  Barreling proofs have increased. And maturation times have decreased.  Each change has reduced costs and increased profits for distilleries - at the expense of complexity and flavor.  You can tell the difference by drinking old whiskeys.  It's fascinating and often delicious.  Dusties can be hard to find.  If you want a guided introduction, join me in attending a unique event where dusty hunters score and pour.

The 1973 Old Forester BiB I sourced
for the first BeastMaster event.
The last time I presented whiskey at a Smoky Beast BeastMaster event it was their very first public event and Steve Zeller and I were presenting a tasting that involved two dusty whiskeys: a National Distiller's Old Taylor and a 1973 Old Forester Bottled in Bond from 1973.   We were comparing them against current expressions of the same brands.

Now, I'm coming back to BeastMasters Club, in the new head 2 head contest format against my friend Joshua Richholt in a Dusty battle where we dusty hunt and bring our best finds to a public tasting.  If you've ever wanted to taste dusties with me here's a chance.

The format is simple  Josh and I will be given $300 and we will find the best dusties we can.  (If we strike out we can provide bottles from our own private collections).  I've known Josh Richholt for a while and I've drunk whisky with him a number of times and I can attest that he is a talented dusty hunter with amazing taste.  He founded an amazing bar on the border of Brooklyn and Queens called The Well.  It has an amazing line up of bottles and beers on tap.  It's built inside a 19th-century brewery.  Richholt knows the history and is well connected with the history of alcohol.  He will be formidable opposition.  We source the dusties and pour them for everyone in attendance.  Knowing me, I'll probably tell some stories about them.  I don't know what bottles will show up.  I'm going to be hunting hard because I want to impress.  It sounds like a whole lot of fun.  

When? 
Fri, October 27, 2017
6:30 PM – 9:30 PM

Where?  At the BeastMaster's Popup Lair on Canal St. in Manhattan.  Tickets are cheap at $50 and available here.

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/beast-masters-club-dusty-battle-tickets-38289228112

FYI - this post was updated with the actual selections that will be poured:  http://www.cooperedtot.com/2017/10/updated-actual-selections-for.html


Don't look at it!  Dusties cover my kitchen table..
I didn't do nearly as good a job of romanticizing the story as Steve Zeller did.  Check it out his description from the eventbrite site:

Dusties are the true sport of bourbon hunting, setting apart the rookies from the veteran die-hard whiskey aficionados. We’ve been wanting to do a Dusty Battle for some time, but we needed to find the perfect two warriors who would be up to the task. Meet Josh & Josh…

Josh Feldman, whiskey historian and author of www.cooperedtot.com has been collecting, writing, and all-around obsessing about whiskey for over a decade. He was an early mentor to Steve and Dana as they began the SmokyBeast blog, generously guiding them into the unknown territory of shuttered distilleries, dusty gems, and the decades of history that surround these special whiskies.

Josh Richholt is the co-founder of The Well. Dubbed the “biggest local bar you’ve ever seen”, The Well boasts 200 beers on tap, a tasty whiskey selection. and a mammoth outdoor music venue. We caught Josh sneaking a bottle Jack Daniels into our “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer” event. Little did we know it was a 1960’s Jack Daniels (which changed the move from sacrilege to bona fide). It turned out that Josh had come directly to our event from a successful dusty hunt of epic proportions.

Each contender will bring two dusties from his private collection for your consideration. You will vote to decide who shall hold the belt as BMC Dusty Champion.

We’re very excited to be able to share this special event with you. Don’t miss out!
https://www.eventbrite.com/e/beast-masters-club-dusty-battle-tickets-38289228112

Join us!


Dusty Old Overholt Rye



Sunday, April 13, 2014

The Tragedy of Old Cabin Still


The history of American whiskey is full of stories with all the human drama of Shakespeare's plays.  There are triumphs and tragedies; tales of creation and destruction.  There are also skeletons in the closet.  This is one of those stories.  It's the story of a murder - but not the murder of a person; the murder of a historic brand of Bourbon.  Like in most murders the motive is mundane, indeed prosaic.  It is simply greed.  The general outline of the story is simple.  Old Cabin Still - a venerable brand originally from William LaRue Weller came, via Pappy Van Winkle, to Stitzel-Weller and was a respected brand for decades. Then a huge corporation, Norton Simon, that had been clumsily dabbling in Bourbon found themselves in a jam with a bunch of bad whiskey they couldn't sell so they bought Stitzel-Weller so they could gradually dump the boondoggle failure whiskey into their bottom of the line Old Cabin Still brand.  This ruined the whiskey - effectively murdering the brand.  When United Distillers dumped 70 brands to Heaven Hill in 1993 (who immediately dumped a bunch to Luxco) with Old Cabin Still listed among them, it fell away into the mists of obscurity.  Currently the brand name "Cabin Still" doesn't appear on either Heaven Hill's or Luxco's web site.  It's not distributed in my area (although it is still made and distributed in the midwest and Europe.  It's a moribund brand, while plenty of other brands with less excellence in their histories are still plugging along.  (Update - it is still made and sold - including in New York.  It's not wheater - but is a decent entry level Bourbon in it's current incarnation.  I'll do a comparison tasting in a future post).

A word about the brand's name.   Originally "Old Cabin Still" It gradually dropped the prefix "Old".  It started in the 1950s - with the word getting smaller and sometimes being replaced by "Weller's", until it fully disappeared sometime in the 1970s - apparently after the sale to Norton Simon.  I'll attempt to use the appropriate name for whatever historical period we are discussing.

Old Cabin Still was one of William Larue Weller's brands when Pappy Van Winkle joined the firm.  It wasn't one of the brands registered in 1905 and 1906, implying that it was previously registered - one of the really old brands.   Pappy clearly liked it.  He had A. Ph. Stitzel produce some as medicinal whiskey during Prohibition.  A nice bottle and photograph appear on http://www.historicbottles.com/miscellaneous.htm  They appear as follows:

"Here is a quite interesting - and quite rare and historically fascinating - early machine-made whiskey bottle with the label, original box AND is still fully sealed with around 85%+ of the original contents - all of which date prior (barely) to National Prohibition! The fully intact tax label (covering the cork stopper) notes that the whiskey was "made Spring 1915" and "bottled Fall 1919" - mere weeks before Prohibition was fully in effect in January 1920 (though most liquor was already off the market by early 1919)."

In "But Always Fine Bourbon" by Sally Van Winkle Campbell, Old Cabin Still appears one of the stable of brands produced by Stitzel-Weller Distillery at its inception in 1935.  It was the entry level expression.  The same juice as Old Fitz, but aged less.  It was marketed as the "sportsman's" choice (see the ads, above, sporty with hunting dogs).  I imagine the idea is that sportsman in the field might nip from the bottle or flask without the luxury of the long airing Old Fitzgerald needed.  Having had the opportunity to have tasted some of the Old Cabin Still made in the Pappy era very recently, I can attest it was very good indeed, but more about that later.

My first experiences with it were very different.  Personally, I came across Cabin Still in my Sophomore year of college, 1983.  My suite mate, Kenneth Kurtz, a dazzlingly intelligent man who is now the staff architect of The Brooklyn Museum, had a penchant for it.  But not, as you might expect, have a penchant for it because it was good.  Rather, because it was bad and fading.  His nickname for it was "Stab 'n Kill".  It was an Old Man's liquor - a foul rotgut, and a symbol of what had
Ken Kurtz (in a Belleville, NJ cemetery)
gone wrong in America.  You have to understand that Ken Kurtz is a connoisseur of America's decline.  He hails from Randolph, NJ and starting in 1982 when I first met him he led me on a series of excursions the likes of which have become a staple of "Weird NJ" magazine (but years before that magazine's founding).  We drove to abandoned or semi abandoned industrial facilities, insane asylums, and the like.  We drove to Allentown and Bethlehem PA to witness the rust belt first hand.  In recent years he leads walks into places like the abandoned rail lines of the Meadowlands swamps northern NJ and the rusting drawbridges of Jersey City.  We walk the vast cemeteries of Queens and the industrial decay of Maspeth creek.  There is beauty in such places - but an ironic beauty informed by the punk aesthetic.  It's about acknowledging the rust and the loss and irony.  This is Ken Kurtz's aesthetic.  So his selection of "Stab 'n Kill" for our Friday night 1980s poker 'n bourbon 'n all you can smoke sessions must be understood as an ironic selection too.  I don't remember much about the Bourbon we drank those evenings.  We were shooting it, with grimaces and mock toughness.  We were also just kids getting drunk and I don't remember much about those evenings at all, generally.  But the long term outcome was: 1) I never bought a bottle of Cabin Still ever again.  2) I stopped drinking Bourbon pretty much entirely for about 20
Jersey City
Drawbridge abstract
years.  I turned to single malt Scotch for the most part and never looked back until 2006 or so when Paul Pacult invited Wild Turkey to host a tasting at Keen's Steakhouse in NYC when my love affair with Bourbon properly began.

This all jibes with Mike Jasinski's (master dusty hunter) tasting notes for this 1972 Ducks Unlimited ceramic decanter.  When I first met him last autumn he walked me through a tasting.  I blogged about it and wrote this:  

"One of the most provocative things the Mike has said on line recently is that Old Cabin Still is both the best and worst Bourbon he's ever tasted. He attributes this to the fact that it was sourced from Stitzel-Weller glut stocks and, alternately, Seagram's lower end stocks. My impression of this brand is the yellow-label stuff from the early 1980s which my college buddies and I used to shoot. It's not a good impression so I was very curious to taste the difference. Mike lineup up drams of both. The 1980s Seagram NAS stuff was terrible. Insipid, thin mouth feel, harsh alcohol bite, and a flavor dominated by wet cardboard notes. The 6 year old age dated 1966-1972 Ducks Unlimited decanter Old Cabin Still, however, was very much in the mode of the contemporary Old Fitzgerald decanter I had just tasted - but if anything incrementally more honeyed, with a richer mouth feel. All the classic Stitzel-Weller wheated bourbon flavors were in play: caramel, toffee, butter braised brown Betty, demerara sugar and rum. Sandalwood perfume, and, on the finish, a clear note of light and sweet coffee and cream. Too much? Not a chance. Brilliance."
http://www.cooperedtot.com/2013/11/a-day-with-master-dusty-hunter-driven.html

(Notice the mistakes (probably my own) confusing "Seagrams" for "Canada Dry".  The whiskey that ended up conflated into Old Cabin Still is not Seagrams.  It's Canada Dry - a different company entirely with only the concept of "Canadian" in common.  That shows you need to take the factual content in this blog with a grain of salt.)

Ads for Canada Dry Bourbon start popping up in the mid 1960s.  Here's an example from 1967:
1967 Magazine ad for Canada Dry Bourbon - Nicholsville
The tone of the ad is one of apologetic regret for how poor the branding is.  The text reads "Fine sounding names are a tradition in the world of Bourbon.  But fine sounding names don't do anything for the taste of Bourbon.  Canada Dry has done something for the taste of Bourbon.  We made it smoother. ..." The tacit acknowledgement that the name (and the label and the bottle and everything) is completely lousy branding for Bourbon is covered by the bluster of their claims for the taste.  But having tasted it, and finding it among the most pathetic and forgettable Bourbons I've EVER tasted it's no surprise that the brand quickly disappeared.  But that left Norton Simon - the huge conglomerate that owned Canada Dry at the time, with a problem.  What to do with a bunch of Bourbon that had tax liability hanging over it?

Canada Dry was a soda company that had started in Toronto in the 1890s by druggist and chemist John J. McLaughlin.  In 1904 he created "Canada Dry Pale Ginger Ale" which began shipping to New York in 1919.  The timing was brilliant.  Prohibition meant that many drinkers were getting lower quality liquor and Americans found that most any liquor was pretty palatable when blended in with Canada Dry Ginger Ale.  Norton Winfred Simon (1907-1993), Californian food industrialist of tremendous success and market power (Hunts foods, Avis rental cars, McCall's publishing, Max Factor cosmetics, etc...) , merged his Norton Simon corporation with Canada Dry in 1964.  The bourbon appears the very next year.  I can only imagine some kind of competitiveness with Sam Bronfman (in the whiskey world in the 1960s everything comes back to Sam Bronfman so even though I don't have a shred of evidence for this I can't imagine it not being so).  The escapade was failure and soon Norton Simon is looking for a place to dump the inferior product that didn't sell.

On Straight Bourbon there is an old (2004) thread discussing the following bottle of what is labelled "Stitzel-Weller's Canada Dry Bourbon". There is a comment by noted Bourbon historian Michael Veach that speaks straight to this issue and backs up Mike Jasinski's account of Old Cabin Still being ruined by having Canada Dry Bourbon mixed in:

"Right after the [Van Winkle] family sold the [Stitzel-Weller] distillery the company [Norton Simon] also acquired a distillery in Nicholasville, Kentucky that made the Canada Dry spirits. They bottled Canada Dry Bourbon, Gin and Vodka. The whiskey from that distillery was not very good at all and they put most of it into Cabin Still, starting the downfall of that brand. - Mike Veach"

http://www.straightbourbon.com/forums/showthread.php?3139-Stitzel-Weller-Canada-Dry-Bourbon

But I received dramatic and fully independent corroboration for the tale from an employee of Stitzel-Weller who made the shift to Norton-Simon and witnessed these events first hand.  The gentleman is named Dale Hamilton.  In his own words:

"I went to work for Stitzel Weller in October - 1970 as Controller/Accounting Manager. When the company was purchased on June 28, 1972 most of the accounting functions were transferred to the New York offices of Somerset Importers. I was asked to take a position in the Finance Offices at Somerset but since I had no desire to live in New York I didn't accept the position. I was allowed to stay in Louisville and set up a purchasing department. I remained as Purchasing Manager thru the mergers with the Canada Dry Distillery Nicholasville, ky. Later when Somerset Importers took over the operations of Distillers Corporation in the U.S.A.  Sometime later I took on the duties of packaging development in addition to the purchasing.  Thru the years the company name was changed to United Distillers Production and later with the purchase of Schenley the name changed to Schenley Distillers , Inc.
...
The distillery at Nicholasville or Camp Nelson, KY was originally the Curley Distillery and later the Kentucky River Distillery.
...
Paul Burnside was the President of Somerset Importers at the time and their production operation was the Canada Dry Distillery at Nicholasville, Ky. The operation distilled bourbon and bottled gin & vodka for the Canada Dry brand..They also bottled some brandy for the Domeq brand.
As I recall Burnside had produced more bourbon for the Canada Dry Bourbon brand than was needed and he also wanted to get Somerset into the bourbon business. I was told that some of the bourbon was not of a good quality (musty) due to some warehousing problems. I was not an expert on the quality of bourbon, but I didn't care for the taste of the Canada Dry produced bourbon made with rye ,since I had been used to the Old Fitz bourbon produced with wheat.
Somerset was owned by Norton Simon at the time and money tied up in inventory didn't fit their plan. So now the Stitzel Weller Distillery could cease production for some time and the excess Canada Dry bourbon could be used in the newly purchased Cabin Still brand. The bourbon that was produced for the Cabin Still brand could now be used for some of the other Stitzel Weller brands.
...
As I recall the Canada Dry Bourbon, Gin, and Vodka labels were only sold in the control states. I don't recall exactly ,but sometime near the end of the brands in seems to me that the soft drink company, no longer connected to liquor division, the Canada Dry named was dropped and replaced with the name "Stitzel Weller" for a short time."


- Dale Hamilton (in several private e-mails.  Emphasis is my own).

 But what about this "distillery at Nicholasville or Camp Nelson, KY - originally the Curley Distillery and later the Kentucky River Distillery"? The Curley Distillery was built around 1880. Sullivan notes it as

"The Boone Knoll DistilleryRD #15, 8 th District Jessamine County, KY"
with the following photograph:
http://www.pre-pro.com/midacore/images/inserts/dist_DST233.jpg
The photograph resides at The Kentucky Historical Society where it is described as follows:
"Curley Distillery at Camp Nelson Bridge, Jessamine County, Kentucky, ca. 1905."http://www.kyhistory.com/cdm/ref/collection/PH/id/1099

Of this distillery Sam K. Cecil writes: "E.J. Curley & Company RD No. 15, Kentucky River, RD No. 45 Canada Dry.  Built in 1880." But by 1889 Curley's horses and wagons were impounded for non-payment of taxes although it managed to stay open until Prohibition when AMS bought the brands and remaining stocks.  In 1923 the distillery building was converted into a resort.  It was converted back into a distillery after Repeal, operating as "Kentucky River" RD No. 45."  It ended up sold to Norton Simon "sometime in the 1960s".  "Norton Simon continued to operate the plant as Canada Dry until the late 1970s, when they bought the Stitzel-Weller Distillery RD No. 16 in Shively, Jefferson County."  (the actual year of the purchase was 1972, thus showing that you sometimes have to take Cecil with a grain of salt).  The narrative concludes "The distillery building burned, and the warehouses were leased for a time to Seagrams to house production from their Anderson County plant.  Since then, they have leased to Bourlevard of Anderson County for their "Wild Turkey" whiskey".
http://www.amazon.com/Bourbon-The-Evolution-Kentucky-Whiskey/dp/1596527692

Chuck Cowdery summarized the history in a post on Straight Bourbon in 2000 thus:  "Built in 1880. In recent times, Norton Simon owned it in the 60s and operated it under the Canada Dry name until they bought Stitzel-Weller in 1972. The distillery building burned down. Seagram's used the warehouse for Four Roses until they built Lotus, at which time they leased them to Wild Turkey."
http://www.straightbourbon.com/forums/showthread.php?64-Fire-at-Wild-Turkey-Warehouse!

A distillery building burning down happens from time to time, of course.  Still, I'm struck by the timing.  Norton Simon using this distillery to produce a failure of a Bourbon brand.  Then buying a struggling but well respected distillery (Stitzel-Weller) and then apparently camouflaging the bad whiskey by mixing it into Cabin Still - the bottom of the line expression from Stitzel-Weller starting in 1972.  Then, the now useless distillery burns down.  How convenient!  The warehouses still stand - serving a better purpose holding better juice.

So, given all this history, it probably comes as little surprise that when I came across a case or two of old, sad, dirty, somewhat sun-faded liter bottles of Cabin Still in a scary store in a scarier part of Roseville, NJ I bought a few of the better looking ones, bottle glass stamp dated "88".  I cracked one open and tasted deeply.  "Old Stab 'n Kill" truly.  I also shared a dram of it with Ken Kurtz himself.  Then I attempted to give him one of the liters.  He politely declined.  In light of having recently tasted 1966-72 Old Cabin Still and 1970s-80s Canada Dry Bourbon with Mike Jasinski and having recently completed a survey of Old Fitzgerald from the 1960s-1990s I felt ready to put this late 1980s Cabin Still in context:


1972 and earlier bottlings say "Distilled and Bottled by Sitzel-Weller Distillery".  Afterwards the wording is changed to "Distilled For And Bottled By Cabin Still Distillery" (emphasis mine).

Cabin Still Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey circa 1988 40% abv.  


Color: medium coppery amber.

Nose:  Initially a bit sickly sweet and watery, it opens with air. After about 20 minutes it is malty, and fruity (juicyfruit, and turkish delight) beneath toffee, solvent, and candy corn.  Not too bad.  I'm getting Stitzel-Weller richness in the maltiness.

Palate: off-sweet opening.  Given the fruity nose I was expecting more sweetness in the opening, but it pulls back.  In the expansion there are notes of cherry and malt that recall Stitzel-Weller as well.  But there is a watery mouth feel and lack of density and impact.  As the expansion proceeds there is a tinge of rye prickle - a kiss of Virginia blond tobacco chaw spit in a watered down glass of good S-W whiskey.  This is, after all presumably, a 4 grain vatting.  Then, at the turn there is a bitter cardboard note.  As the finish proceeds the bitterness and cardboard flavor (like a corrugated cardboard box smells) grows and grows.  The finish is disgusting with bitterness, glue, and dry brown paper.  A disaster.  Particularly bitter given the hints of malt and cherry and oak lurking around in there.  There was Stitzel-Weller juice being tossed into the cardboard bitter mess of Canada Dry bourbon even as late as 1988.  It's a crime.  It's a crying shame.   Getting rid of the finish by continually sipping  to keep those Stitzel-Weller flavors detectable in the front end of the palate is the way to go with this stuff.

Adding a drop of water greatly improves the nose which, after 10 minutes to settle down, becomes candied like a full wheater. But it ruins what little body or mouth feel this whisky had, while amping up the undesirable rye spices which don't fit with the wheater sweeter aspects.  Definitely do not add water.

Bottom line - a disaster both for what happened in the vatting and, especially, for the special juice that was squandered here.

*

(Updated to one star down from two as, in further tasting I can't stomach this stuff at all).

Sunday, March 23, 2014

Old Ren's Vanilla Flavor Conundrum


I've been drinking and thinking about Old Ren quite a bit lately since my blog post a couple of months ago and something has begun to bother me.  Is it possible that professional magician and founding-father of Texas IBM magicians Ring 15, Ren Clark, could have slipped an adulterating flavor into Old Ren as a parlor trick of some sort?  Well, banish the thought, Old Ren was bottled in bond in a government supervised and bonded warehouse - right?  But nosing and tasting Old Ren I have a very clear sense of vanilla extract riding on top of some good bourbon.  Vanillins are a natural flavor component of bourbon because of the requirement that bourbon be aged in new charred American white oak.  American white oak, in particular, is loaded with vanillins.  This fact would make the addition of vanilla extract a really great prank to play on bourbon drinkers.  The vanilla would hide exceedingly well, produce a remarkable flavor profile, and make a real conversation piece.  However, in one of the few blog posts out there that describes bottle maturation using references to peer reviewed scientific papers, Whisky Science's article about bottle maturation specifically mentions a build up in vanillin over long periods of bottle maturation:

Look at those colors again...
"Most phenols oxidize slowly, usually forming polyphenols, resulting in diminished astringency and probably less peaty whisky over years of bottle storage. An exeption in the phenol group is vanillin, which increases slowly independently of the oxidation/reduction state." (emphasis mine)

"Independently of the oxidation, tannins and antocyanins form bigger molecules, which stabilize the colour and usually turn reddish colours into orange, bricklike hues. Oaklactones tend to partially transform from trans- (spicy, incence) to cis-isomers (coconut, vanillin) in the bottle."


Later on it adds:

"Most likely the bottle maturation of whisky is more reductive than oxidative, producing more fruity, aetheral, peachy, vanilla, petrol, rubbery and metallic notes and less phenolic, bitter spicy and citrus notes. Rancio flavours might arise from pentose sugars derived from caramel colouring and/or a very extractive charred cask."

http://whiskyscience.blogspot.com/2013/02/bottle-maturation-obe.html

Old Ren has been resting in glass since the Spring of 1944 - exactly 70 years now.  That's long enough for bottle maturation to have full play.  This underscores the notion that this is just regular unadulterated Bourbon that has had the vanilla notes naturally accentuated by many decades of natural bottle maturation.  Indeed, vanillin's role in the flavor profile of Bourbon normally is part of what makes Bourbon good - and this aspect of bottle maturation - might explain the seductive flavors of old dusty Bourbon in general.  Vanilla sweetness enhanced, other rougher flavor compounds rounded out by gradual molecular breakdown and slow oxidation.  Plus that bit about pentose sugars and rancio.  That sounds a lot like what tastes good about dusty Bourbons in general.

So there's not much point wondering about vanilla in Old Ren...  But then I noticed something.  Look at that odd pattern of red squares just above the words "Bourbon Whiskey" on the label:

The word "Straight" has been cancelled out by a counter stamp of red squares.
Close examination of the pattern of red squares shows that the word "Straight" was printed above "Bourbon Whiskey" and was subsequently cancelled by a counter stamp printing of red squares.  Why didn't I notice this before?  Why would the bottlers of Old Ren do that?  I can't help but get the feeling that this is an acknowledgement of some kind of hanky panky.  

Let's look at the laws again:

§5.22   The standards of identity.

...
(b) Class 2; whisky. “Whisky” is an alcoholic distillate from a fermented mash of grain produced at less than 190° proof in such manner that the distillate possesses the taste, aroma, and characteristics generally attributed to whisky, stored in oak containers (except that corn whisky need not be so stored), and bottled at not less than 80° proof, and also includes mixtures of such distillates for which no specific standards of identity are prescribed.
(1)(i) “Bourbon whisky”, “rye whisky”, “wheat whisky”, “malt whisky”, or “rye malt whisky” is whisky produced at not exceeding 160° proof from a fermented mash of not less than 51 percent corn, rye, wheat, malted barley, or malted rye grain, respectively, and stored at not more than 125° proof in charred new oak containers; and also includes mixtures of such whiskies of the same type.
(iii) Whiskies conforming to the standards prescribed in paragraphs (b)(1)(i) and (ii) of this section, which have been stored in the type of oak containers prescribed, for a period of 2 years or more shall be further designated as “straight”; for example, “straight bourbon whisky”, “straight corn whisky”, and whisky conforming to the standards prescribed in paragraph (b)(1)(i) of this section, except that it was produced from a fermented mash of less than 51 percent of any one type of grain, and stored for a period of 2 years or more in charred new oak containers shall be designated merely as “straight whisky”. No other whiskies may be designated “straight”. “Straight whisky” includes mixtures of straight whiskies of the same type produced in the same State.

There's nothing about flavorings in there at all.  The term "Straight" specifically applies to aging for 2 years or more.  It's an age requirement; not a purity requirement.  The law governing the nomenclature for Bourbons having flavorings appears further down:

(5)(i) “A blend of straight whiskies” (blended straight whiskies) is a mixture of straight whiskies which does not conform to the standard of identify for “straight whisky.” Products so designated may contain harmless coloring, flavoring, or blending materials as set forth in 27 CFR 5.23(a).
(ii) “A blend of straight whiskies” (blended straight whiskies) consisting entirely of one of the types of straight whisky, and not conforming to the standard for straight whisky, shall be further designated by that specific type of straight whisky; for example, “a blend of straight rye whiskies” (blended straight rye whiskies). “A blend of straight whiskies” consisting entirely of one of the types of straight whisky shall include straight whisky of the same type which was produced in the same State or by the same proprietor within the same State, provided that such whisky contains harmless coloring, flavoring, or blending materials as stated in 27 CFR 5.23(a).
(iii) The harmless coloring, flavoring, or blending materials allowed under this section shall not include neutral spirits or alcohol in their original state. Neutral spirits or alcohol may only appear in a “blend of straight whiskies” or in a “blend of straight whiskies consisting entirely of one of the types of straight whisky” as a vehicle for recognized flavoring of blending material.

§ 5.23 Alteration of class and type.(a) Additions. (1) The addition of any coloring, flavoring, or blending materials to any class and type of distilled spirits, except as otherwise provided in this section, alters the class and type thereof and the product shall be appropriately redesignated.(2) There may be added to any class or type of distilled spirits, without changing the class or type thereof, (i) such harmless coloring, flavoring, or blending materials as are an essential component part of the particular class or type of distilled spirits to which added, and (ii) harmless coloring, flavoring, or blending materials such as caramel, straight malt or straight rye malt whiskies, fruit juices, sugar, infusion of oak chips when approved by the Administrator, or wine, which are not an essential component part of the particular distilled spirits to which added, but which are customarily employed therein in accordance with established trade usage, if such coloring, flavoring, or blending materials do not total more than 21/2 percent by volume of the finished product.http://www.gpo.gov/fdsys/pkg/CFR-2012-title27-vol1/xml/CFR-2012-title27-vol1-sec5-23.xml

So the law pretty clearly specifies that the presence of an added flavor, like vanilla (or a color - such as e150), would require that the label say "A Blend Of Straight Bourbon Whiskies".  That's not what the label says here at all.  The cancellation addresses the age statement portion of the label - not the presence of additives.  If vanilla were added, the word "Straight" would be A-OK.  The words "A Blend of" would have to be added.  The Bottled In Bond strip specifies the age of the whisky in detail - so there's no legal reason for the word "Straight" to be taken out.  I find the cancellation a fascinating detail that mystifies me.  But, there's not much point speculating further.  We will probably never know.  If you have any more information or suggestions on such label cancellations and what they mean I'd love to hear more. 

Of course, Ren Clark wasn't a regular guy like you or me.  He was a professional level magician.  I can't help but wonder if Ren might have played a trick on everyone, even the bottling company, with an act of sleight of hand...

Update:  several folks have made the point that the laws governing the nomenclature of "Bourbon", and "Straight Bourbon" were different prior to 1964.   I'm looking into what the applicable laws were in 1944.
Sku posted a close reading of the laws back in 2011 and wrote:

"This is really the same issue as with ageing. Straight whiskey may not contain any coloring or flavoring, but no such restriction is imposed on whiskey that does not carry the "straight" designation, 27 CFR § 5.23(a)(3)," ... "However, the TTB's Beverage Alcohol Manual states that bourbon of any kind (not just straight) cannot contain coloring or flavoring. The Manual is not an official regulation, but it is a guideline as to how the TTB interprets the regulation..."

This certainly implies that canceling the "straight designation might have been an attempt to approve an additive.

However New York lawyer and whiskey enthusiast Dan Zimmerman retrieved old copies of Title 26 of the Internal Revenue Tax code (26 USC Sec. 5233 (1964) and 26 USC Sec. 2903-2904 (1940)) which governed these things back in the day and has performed a close reading and it seems that the Bottled In Bond act provisions trump those distinctions. Here is Zimmerman's close reading of the older statutes directly quoted from his e-mail. I'll find a way to post images of the old legal statutes (probably as image files) later:

"(1) The Beverage Alcohol Manual (BAM) that Steve links in his blog (tracing through my link above) states that the TTB (formerly ATF) views the "bourbon" designation as precluding coloring or flavoring additives. http://recenteats.blogspot.com/2011/08/whiskey-wednesday-bourbon-law-for.html I agree with Steve's statement that the BAM is an agency interpretation, and this restriction does not seem to appear on the face of the regulations in 27 CFR. Going farther, I am not aware of when this interpretation was adopted and it is possible that in 1944, when the Old Ren was bottled, this restriction would not have been interpreted the same way for non-"straight" designated whiskey, as noted above in connection with the 1955 ruling. The BAM is at: http://www.ttb.gov/spirits/bam.shtml

(2) The coloring and flavoring regulations now in 27 CFR 5.23 and 5.29 would, by their literal reading, allow up to 2.5% of "harmless" colorings and flavorings, except for "straight" whiskeys. These were in section 5.22 and 5.38 (1961); and 5.21(g)(5) and 5.38(c) and (d) (1938). The language of these provisions does not seem to have changed substantially over this period. However, as noted below, the BAM interpretations restrict some flavoring and coloring additives that a literal reading of the regulations suggest may be permitted. In the past, the interpretations may have been different, but such informal interpretations can be very difficult to research, as noted above.

The present regulations say, in relevant part:

§5.23 Alteration of class and type.

(a) Additions. ...

(2) There may be added to any class or type of distilled spirits, without changing the class or type thereof, (i) such harmless coloring, flavoring, or blending materials ... if such coloring, flavoring, or blending materials do not total more than 21⁄2 percent by volume of the finished product.

(3) “Harmless coloring, flavoring, and blending materials” shall not include (i) any material which would render the product to which it is added an imitation, or (ii) any material, other than caramel, infusion of oak chips, and sugar, in the case of Cognac brandy; or (iii) any material whatsoever in the case of neutral spirits or straight whiskey, except that vodka may be treated with sugar in an amount not to exceed 2 grams per liter and a trace amount of citric acid. [However, the BAM interpretations above also preclude additives for "bourbon", even if not straight, so this statement is not interpreted with its literal meaning.]


§5.39 Presence of neutral spirits and coloring, flavoring, and blending materials.

(b) Coloring materials. The words “artificially colored” shall be stated on the label of any distilled spirits containing synthetic or natural materials which primarily contribute color, or when the label conveys the impression that the color is derived from a source other than the actual source, except that:
...

(3) If no coloring material other than caramel has been added, there may be stated in lieu of the words “artificially colored,” the words “colored with caramel,” or a substantially similar statement, but no such statement is required for the use of caramel in brandy, rum, or tequila, or in any type of whisky other than straight whisky. [However, the BAM interpretations above also preclude additives for "bourbon", even if not straight, so this statement is not interpreted with its literal meaning.]

(3) Straight Bourbon. As you note, the straight bourbon requirements are in 27 CFR 5.22(b)(1)(iii) presently and were in 5.22(b) in 1961 and 5.21(b) in 1938 (copies attached, these are the two closest dates I found to the 1944 bottling date). On their face, the "straight" regulations for bourbon are generally an age requirement, since the current BAM interpretations extend the prohibition on coloring and flavoring to bourbon generally, not just to straight bourbon.

(4) Bottled in Bond. The bottled in bond regulations and statutory provisions, on their face, seem to preclude any flexibility that could be gained by removing a "straight" designation.

Current 27 CFR 5.42(b)(3) sets out requirements for bottled in bond labeling. Chiefly:

(i) Composed of the same kind of spirits produced from the same class of materials;

(ii) Produced in the same distilling season by the same distiller at the same distillery;

(iii) Stored for at least four years in wooden containers ...;

(iv) Unaltered from their original condition or character by the addition or subtraction of any substance other than by filtration, chill proofing, or other physical treatments (which do not involve the addition of any substance which will remain incorporated in the finished product or result in a change in class or type);

(v) Reduced in proof by the addition of pure water only to 100 degrees of proof; and

(vi) Bottles at 100 degrees of proof.

This provision tracks statutory provisions that appeared at 26 USC Sec. 5233 (1964) and 26 USC Sec. 2903-2904 (1940) (copies attached). I have not exhaustively searched, but it looks like this requirement has been moved out of the tax code and into the TTB regulations in the past several years. In any event, all of these provisions substantially express the common understanding of the requirements imposed by the Bottled-in-Bond Act of 1897. In particular, additives should be prohibited."

Bottom line: the fact that it's Bottled In Bond should prevent any additives - even back in 1944.  And this should obviate any need to cancel out the word "Straight".  This remains a mystery which doesn't make any legal sense.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

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.