On a small, hobbyist scale, the practice is simple, safe, and rewarding for those who have the patience to do it. A common statement made was, “It’s just fun to sit around with friends and make whiskey, sip what you made last time and look forward to what’s in the still.”
“We do not believe that our spirit contravenes U.S. law, as our production process adheres to the legal requirements set forth under the Australia-U.S. free trade agreement…”
Really? We know that strategy isn’t fool proof. Remember all those single barrels we picked which were 12-15 years old? They got that old because letting the whiskey sit was the only option. That idea also doesn’t take into account all the taxes on those barrels.
At least single-barrel picks are better at Barton. My first pick ever happened there on a frigid winter day; the outdoor temp was 18 degrees and I was wondering why anyone thought this was fun.
None of the researchers quoted in the article recommended swearing off alcohol given complications as one ages. One even pointed out that drinking is a social convention, and socializing is a huge part of mental health.
It’s not some battle of the sexes thing for me, it’s just a question: Upon what grounds do you base a claim that women have better palates than men?
To be fair, at least this is a great whiskey winning the top prize. However, given the number of awards won by the whiskey named after a suffer-no-fools distiller, these competitions are boring for everyone except Buffalo Trace.
“Oh, we’ve had people argue about it for sure,” Mandy Vance, manager of the Private Barrel Selection process at Four Roses, told me a few years ago about a pick. They generally work it out, though, because they’re having fun.”
Immediately, I thought of Heaven Hill’s bourbons, which have only 10 percent rye in the mashbill but come off as nicely spicy in the glass. Then Veach cited Old Fitzgerald, a wheated bourbon that has terrific spice notes despite having no rye.
Last year at a high-level Kentucky whiskey industry event I requested a Manhattan. When the genial “bartender” merely poured me bourbon on the rocks, I asked about the vermouth and bitters. “I don’t know about that,” she said. “Can you tell me what to put in?” I settled for whiskey on the rocks.
