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Rye Tasting IV: Van Winkle

(part of a series of posts on a recent panel tasting of 18 American rye whiskies that starts here. For more information on rye whiskey and additional tasting notes, pick up the January/February 2007 issue of Imbibe magazine.)

For much of the time between rye’s near-demise during Prohibition and the late 1990s, there was no such thing as a premium rye whiskey. Due to a stroke of luck, though, in 1997 or 1998, the Van Winkle distilling family was approached by a Japanese customer seeking a high-end aged rye for distribution overseas. Could Van Winkle provide whiskey to this niche market? Of course.

Problem was, they didn’t have any. According to Preston Van Winkle, his father, Julian, searched for barrels of aged rye on the open market and soon found several that would suit the special order. After bottling the whiskey in 1998, Van Winkle realized that perhaps there might be a greater demand for aged ryes, and started to bottle the whiskey for the domestic market.

The 12-year-old “Old Rip Van Winkle Old Time Rye” was the initial product; now defunct, this rye has been replaced by the 13-year-old Van Winkle Family Reserve Rye, bottled at 95.6 proof. Van Winkle sells around 290 cases of this whiskey domestically each year, and another 350 or so cases internationally. Following on the initial interest in this premium rye, Van Winkle began distilling its own rye whiskey in 1999 or 2000. Given that the rye is aged for 13 years, that means it’s still at least another five years before a “true” Van Winkle rye is released; until then, the company’s straight rye is taken from barrels purchased from other distilleries.

Van Winkle Family Reserve Rye

The Van Winkle had long been the rye I kept stashed away for times when I wanted something more special than Old Overholt, and all of the panelists were long familiar with the Van Winkle rye. I was curious how this old favorite would perform in a blind testing alongside an array of other premium ryes, some younger and some much older.

Despite its higher alcohol level, the rye was very soft on the nose, with a gentle, banana-like sweetness but no real dominant note; one panelist noted that the nose “didn’t impress me at all,” and another said “it’s not that refined.” In the glass, the whiskey also came across as very soft, with a mellow dryness and hints of rye’s classic spicy sour notes, but very subdued. One panelist described it as having a “stereotypical rye taste to it: dry, but not much else,” while another noted that it tasted “like a rye-flavored bourbon, with just enough rye to make it a rye, but not enough to define its flavor as a rye.” A third panelist was more approving, saying that he “liked it a lot; I think it’s smooth, it’s dry, it’s got rye characteristics,” then going on to correctly select this sample as the Van Winkle.

Verdict: While one panelist was very approving, even placing it in his top-ranked ryes, the rest of the panel was less enthusiastic about the Van Winkle, noting that its character was too monodimensional and subdued, especially as compared to other premium ryes. A mixed bag for Van Winkle.

Next: Pikesville Supreme

MxMo XI: Flipping Out

Why was it that the good folks at Imbibe Unfiltered decided to choose “Winter Warmers” for the theme of this Mixology Monday? Did they somehow foresee that good chunks of the Pacific Northwest — including their base in Portland, and mine in Seattle — would be socked in for days on end with temperatures barely venturing above freezing, and snow and ice still an annoyance nearly a week after its first appearance? (And for those of you in Canada, Maine and Missouri, scoffing at my whining about the cold, remember that this is the rainy Northwest, where you’re forced to swap your heavy winter coat for a thin Gore-Tex slicker before they’ll let you have a driver’s license. And for those of you in New York and environs, having a 70+ degree January: just shut the hell up.) Did they imagine that my office would be without heat this morning, leaving me shivering at the keyboard and chilled to the bone by noon? Or was it simply based on a casual glance at the calendar, along with a theme in their current issue that details a number of ways to defrost in mid-January?

Whatever the reason, I enter this MxMo as icy as a mint julep. On a night like this, a more standard warmer won’t quite hack it — a toddy has horsepower, but not enough gumption to properly beat the chill; a concoction with actual fire seems serious about warmth, but my near-immolation while playing with burning rum several MxMos back has made me leery about getting matches too close to my refreshments; and as appealing as a coffee drink sounds, using it to warm up at the end of a long, cold day would leave me goggle-eyed into the wee hours.

Instead, I need a seriously studied winter warmer, one that dates to an era before thermostats and central heating, designed to create an instant heat deep inside then stick tenaciously to your ribs, warming and soothing for the long haul. It’s time to try a rum flip.

And I do mean trying “a” flip as opposed to “the” flip, because, as with so much else, there are a number of different recipes out there. For mine, I’ll go back as far as I can — to Jerry Thomas’ The Bar Tender’s Guide from 1864 (which, it should be noted, offers two versions of this drink; this recipe is the second, more appealing version):

Rum Flip (verbatim from Thomas)

Keep grated ginger and nutmeg with a little fine dried lemon peel, rubbed together in a mortar.

To make a quart of flip: — Put the ale on the fire to warm, and beat up three or four eggs with four ounces of moist sugar, a teaspoonful of grated nutmeg or ginger, and a gill of good old rum or brandy. When the ale is near to boil, put it into one pitcher, and the rum and eggs, &c., into another; turn it from one pitcher to another till it is as smooth as cream.

The rum flip is closely related to the egg flip, aka the “yard of flannel,” which another shivering PNWer, c at Slakethirst, attempted a while back with mixed reviews. With c’s fair warning mixed with my own curiosity — and my apprehension at drinking something composed mainly of hot beer and eggs — I set out to make my own flip.

First, I scaled down the recipe (see below), as putting away a quart of flip would mean I’d be lying in bed later tonight, bloated and queasy, wishing to god I’d gone with one of the coffee drinks. Next, for the beer: one of the Northwest’s ubiquitous pointy-elbowed hop-bombs of a pale ale seemed out of place in a drink such as this, so instead I chose something smoother and more venerable: Samuel Smith Old Brewery Pale Ale. For the rum, something dark and heavy seemed appropriate, so I pitched in a shot of Gosling’s Black Seal Rum. And for dried lemon peel, as I have none, I went with a bit of fresh.

Rum Flip (my version)

  • 1 egg
  • 8 ounces ale
  • 1 ounce rich simple syrup
  • 1/4 tsp mixed fresh-grated lemon peel and nutmeg
  • 1 ounce dark rum

Beat egg and add sugar, spice and rum. Heat ale to almost boiling, then place in pitcher or large tankard, and pour egg mixture in another pitcher. Carefully — oh, boy, do I mean carefully — pour the contents of one pitcher into another, then pour back and forth until well-mixed.

Warm? Certainly. Weird? Deeply.

Actually, I’d hesitate before calling this drink “deeply weird”. “Deeply” may be putting too fine a point on it; rather, my perception of the flip’s weirdness is probably the result of cognitive dissonance: for most contemporary drinkers such as myself, the notion of “hot beer” is inherently distasteful if not downright repulsive, and it’s hard to get past that long-established bias while snuggling down with a whole mug of it, with some egg for body and some rum for forebearance and some sugar just to make it palatable.

While the flip is unusual, and intriguing, and kind of curious in a way, the flip just keeps announcing over and over, “I’m hot beer! C’mon, have another sip–” which I do, until I just can’t anymore. Thank goodness I kept the rest of the ale in the fridge; the flip’s lingering taste is going to need some scrubbing.

Head on over to Imbibe Unfiltered to see how many folks had better luck with their winter warmers this Mixology Monday.

Rye Tasting III: Michter’s

(part of a series of posts on a recent panel tasting of 18 American rye whiskies that starts here. For more information on rye whiskey and additional tasting notes, pick up the January/February 2007 issue of Imbibe magazine.)

If Old Overholt traces its roots back to the early 19th century, Michter’s goes back even further. The original distillery was founded near Amish country in Pennsylvania in 1753; after managing to survive a revolution, the Whiskey Rebellion and a civil war, Michter’s temporarily met its match when the joyless biddies of the W.C.T.U. had it — and most every other distillery in the country — shuttered during Prohibition. The Michter’s distillery sprang up once more after World War II, but only lasted 40-odd years before closing permanently in 1988.

As with almost all ryes nowadays, Michter’s is made in Kentucky (by Kentucky Bourbon Distillers), in painfully small batches, but if you do a little footwork you can turn up a bottle or two. In addition to a 10-year-old bourbon and an unblended American whiskey (aged in used bourbon barrels), Michter’s offers two types of rye: the US1 Straight Rye, a single-barrel whiskey aged 4+ years and bottled at 84.8 proof; and a 10-year-old Straight Rye, also single barrel and bottled at 92.8 proof.

Michter’s US1 Straight Rye Whiskey

The US1 has earned a reputation as an excellent mixing whiskey that also isn’t too shabby on its own.

It has a nose that is good and spicy, but not too aggressive, with little hints of cherry and tobacco. Tasted neat, the spice is quickly followed by a subdued dryness with a mild fruitiness, and without a great deal of complexity. The finish is short, smooth and sweet, with the cherry notes following through to the end.

Verdict: Overall this was an enjoyable whiskey, but not a standout. One panelist noted that there was “not much complexity to it; it has a very simple, dry flavor,” but others found the cherry notes on the nose and the palate appealing.

Michter’s 10-Year-Old Straight Rye

The 10-year-old has earned a lot of raves in recent years, being given the highest recommendation by Wine Enthusiast in 2005, and chosen as the top pick by the Los Angeles Times rye tasting panel that same year.

This rye was striking, even before we started sniffing it. Panelists noted its engaging amber color in the glass, and on the nose it showed its age and its proof with a rich, sweet aroma with a little pear and a little graininess — “It’s got a great, sweet nose, and the color is exquisite,” one panelist noted.

At nearly 93 proof, the whiskey had a little heat and an earthy spiciness that was really engaging, but not over the top, and a lush, full body that made the sipping very enjoyable. The spiciness was followed by a slightly sweet middle touched with banana and oatmeal, and a long, smooth finish that was very engaging.

Verdict: A very good whiskey, with rye’s distinctive spiciness but with a pleasant, fruity sweetness in place of the sour notes found in other ryes. While the Michter’s 10-year-old didn’t place on any panelist’s top-3 list, it was a top-tier whiskey at this tasting.

Next: Van Winkle, Hirsch & Pikesville Supreme

MxMo XI reminder

I’d like to briefly pause from the mondo rye fiesta to remind everyone that this coming Monday, January 15, is the first Mixology Monday of 2007. Hosting the event will be the wonderful folks over at Imbibe Unfiltered. For the January event the hosts have chosen Winter Warmers for the topic — and as I keep one eye on the weather report here in Seattle, anything that might help me defrost seems very appropriate.

Head over to Imbibe Unfiltered for details on how to participate, and let’s make the year’s first MxMo a memorable event.

AND – we still need a host for the February (and March, and April…) Mixology Mondays. Any takers?

We now return to Ryeapalooza…

Rye Tasting II: The Tale of Rittenhouse

(part of a series of posts on a recent panel tasting of 18 American rye whiskies that starts here. For more information on rye whiskey and additional tasting notes, pick up the January/February 2007 issue of Imbibe magazine.)

In the past couple of years it’s become hard to read a published article or blog post about rye whiskey without coming across the Rittenhouse brand name. Despite — or perhaps because of — having a production and distribution that’s a fraction that of Old Overholt, Rittenhouse has stirred a passion among whiskey and cocktail geeks that hasn’t been seen since small-batch bourbon began to break about ten years ago.

Originally made in Pennsylvania, Rittenhouse is now made in Kentucky by Heaven Hill Distilleries, which also produces Pikesville Supreme and Stephen Foster rye whiskies, along with other products such as Elijah Craig and Evan Williams bourbons and Christian Brothers brandy. Until recently, two versions of Rittenhouse were available: an 80 proof version with a cream-colored label; and a more powerful bonded (100 proof) version with a distinctive black label. Both typically retail for under $16.

The lower-proof version is your standard mixing rye, along the same lines as Old Overholt. The bonded rye, though, is something of a powerhouse, revving up cocktails with a bold rye flavor that makes you understand what the hoopla was about a fine Manhattan. Last year, the bonded Rittenhouse knocked countless whiskey aficionados on their duffs by capturing a double gold for rye whiskey at the San Francisco World Spirits Competition, and went on to win the pick of “North American Whiskey of the Year.”

Rittenhouse’s quality was old news to bartenders such as Audrey Saunders, who made it a staple at Pegu Club in New York. Problem was, the whiskey’s sudden rock-star status created a demand that couldn’t be met. Here in Washington state, the bonded whiskey has been very scarce. Despite my attempts to special order a case (attempts that became more frenzied after I actually tasted the whiskey last summer, thanks to the generosity of Boston bartender Jackson Cannon), I remained unable to find the Rittenhouse until a liquor store in West Seattle received two cases by accident this fall. I’m still rationing out my stockpile.

Given the hullaballoo over the bonded, and my own fondness for it in Manhattans, I was interested to see what a blind tasting would reveal about the array of Rittenhouse ryes.

Rittenhouse 80-proof Kentucky Straight Rye

On the nose, the 80 proof came across as, for lack of a better term, “green.” One panelist compared the aroma to that of curry leaves, in a green, spicy kind of way. Another thought it had a light, airy nose of fresh-mowed grass and brown sugar, and a third picked up some crisp citrus notes. On the palate, the 80 proof came across as very approachable, with a gentle sweetness and a quick, crisp finish.

Verdict: A good, but nondescript rye. One panelist summed it up perfectly: “If this one is expensive, then shame on it. If it’s an inexpensive rye, then they’re doing a great justice. It has no finish, and [a good finish] is what I want out of a quality whiskey, but everything else about it is good.”

Rittenhouse 100-proof Bottled-in-Bond Kentucky Straight Rye

At the end of the tasting, once brands were revealed to the panelists, we were all a bit surprised by how the bonded Rittenhouse had performed. On the nose, two panelists described this whiskey as nondescript — a little sourness, a little sweetness, but overall, as one put it, “it doesn’t give anything up.”

On the palate, the whiskey came through a little clearer, with a more robust, peppery spiciness followed by a sourdough-like flavor and a scant touch of sweetness, and a crisp, medium finish.

Verdict: “That’s a Rye 101 for anyone who’s never had rye,” said one panelist. While the rye was pleasant, it didn’t particularly distinguish itself from the crowd. Tasters approved overall of the whiskey, but when tasted neat and with a little water, it came across as hot and aggressive; as another panelist phrased it, “You’re not just going to serve this to someone; you’re going to put it into a drink. It has to be mixed.”

Rittenhouse 21-year-old Single Barrel Straight Rye Whiskey

Late last fall, Heaven Hill rolled out a limited edition, longer-aged rye that would capitalize on some of the prestige the bonded version had captured. Aged 21 years and bottled at 100 proof, this whiskey is billed as a one-time, very limited bottling. Unlike most whiskies, this single-barrel edition is not chill-filtered.

On the nose, the whiskey came up with some heat, but had a nice, chocolatey depth and an appealing doughiness. A distinctive sourness came on strong at first taste, followed by the chocolate depth and a rich, oaky finish. The whiskey had a notably round and rich mouthfeel, and overall presented a very robust character when sipped neat and with a few drops of water.

Verdict: This was a crowd-pleaser. The extra aging made a mellower, sweeter, smoother rye than many of the more typical ryes, with still a touch of rye’s hallmark sour spiciness to distinguish it from a bourbon or other type of whiskey. While two panelists considered that it would make an exceptional Sazerac, another insisted it needed nothing more than a glass and maybe an ice cube to be enjoyed to its fullest. At the end of the tasting, the Rittenhouse 21-year-old was on three out of four top-3 lists.

Next: Michter’s


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