Bryan Smith had zero experience in whiskey making when he learned that the partners in the brewery where he worked were considering building a distillery. As a therapist specializing in recreational therapy, his résumé was equally bereft of any indication that he could become a distiller. Yet, the partners—all successful businessmen in other ventures—saw the potential in Smith and believed he could figure it out. They were right.
In 2015, Hard Truth Distilling Co. in Nashville, Ind., began making whiskey, and Smith was running the stills. An ever-inquisitive student, Smith spent months visiting distillers to learn the trade. While he formulated four rye and four bourbon mashbills and began distilling, the distillery’s owners began building one of the most innovative visitor experiences in American whiskey, planting its flag firmly in a forest well away from Bourbon Country. It attracts a few hundred thousand visitors annually for tours, tastings, cocktails, its restaurant, live music and, of course, bottle sales.
Bourbon & Banter talked with Smith recently about his come-from-nowhere entry into distilling, and his eventual ascent to master distiller and partner at Hard Truth.
I don’t think any of this—what I’m doing now—would have happened without my grandmother. When I was five, she’d take me into the kitchen, where I would hang out with her. She never forced me to eat anything she was cooking, but she’d say, “Try this and see if you like it.” I was tasting things a kid my age wouldn’t usually taste, like gorgonzola. Those experiences helped me understand how important flavor really is.
I joined our school’s science club in the fourth grade. That’s when I learned the scientific method (gaining knowledge through observation, experimentation, and hypothesis testing). Since I had this part of me that loved flavors, I started creating them by making wine and beer in college. That was a nice marriage of shaping flavors with the reliability and repeatability of the scientific method. I still think that way as a distiller.
"Sometimes something opens up in front of you, and you see this vision of what it could become, and you want in on it."
I was still working in recreational therapy when I turned 40, and I was looking for something new to do, more something for fun. I asked a friend if I could come just one day a week to (Quaff On! Brewing Co.) where he worked, and I started out washing kegs. Eventually, as I got more involved, I heard that the owners had gotten a distilling license. They were exploring the idea of what distilling would look like for their company.
I could tell these guys were pure thoroughbred entrepreneurs. It’s silly to say that everything people like them touch becomes gold, because that doesn’t just happen. But these guys were relentless in whatever venture they went into. They’re still really impressive, always looking for ways to grow the brand and improve our visitor experience.
So, I was listening to what’s their plans were … and I asked if I could join them on the project. Sometimes something opens up in front of you, and you see this vision of what it could become, and you want in on it.
No, the switch from brewing to distilling wasn’t hard. Part of that was because I wasn’t being trained to distill. I was training myself. At the brewery, I was part of the machine. At the distillery it was wide open for me since that program wasn’t formed yet. I got to create a vision for it.
I did have some mentors. My first was Jason Heiligenberg, the distiller at Starlight Distillery. He was a college friend of mine from Indiana University. Super smart guy, one of those you spend a couple of days with and learn far more than you’ll ever absorb from a text or taking a course.
But the most pivotal event in my development was meeting Shane (Baker) and Pat (Heist) at Wilderness Trail Distillery. They introduced us to the process of sweet mashing and explained in detail why it made better whiskey. What convinced me they were right was going into that first, small rickhouse of theirs, where we drilled into a 2-year barrel of rye whiskey. We tasted it and it blew my mind. I’d never tasted a whiskey that young that was so delicious and complex.
Coming off still, our sweet mash new make is so rich, clean, vibrant and complex that I wanted our barrels to be unique. I was never confined by, "Hey, we have to have a char 4 barrel, no toast, just like all the big guys in Kentucky are doing."
With Andrew Wiehebrink (director of spirits research and innovation for Independent Stave Company) … we developed three combinations of a very complex toast and a very light char. Those barrels are used on all our ryes and bourbons.
"I’m not surprised by our success, but I’m constantly humbled by it."
This experience really stuck with me in terms of flavor. My first job in Evansville, Indiana, was at the Nagasaki Inn. Every Saturday at around 8 p.m. (the multi-national immigrant employees) would start cooking dinner for the staff. My aunt, who worked there, would spend about 100 bucks on a piece of beef for dinner, but not do too much to it. Yet it was so delicious! The point is that when you source great ingredients, they’ll shine without you doing too much to it. You should never look at the cost of getting the best version of an ingredient when it contributes to better flavor.
If you’d have asked me 9 years if I thought we’d be this successful this fast, I’d have said no. I’m not surprised by our success, but I’m constantly humbled by it. But the truth is all our efforts have been very deliberate and planned, and that plan extends through 2030. The amount of hours I’ve spent talking with my partners about whiskey, our visitor experience and where this is headed—it’s definitely been an incredible, 24-7 obsession from the moment we got going.