American classics and their origins, part 1: Michter’s rye and bourbon

Pioneering spirits, in every sense of the word

Summer break is done and dusted. As so often, I intend to take just a short break of a few weeks, but it almost always ends up somewhat of an extended one. When it’s time for the yearly summer break and family  vacation, I tend to switch of from whisky altogether as I want to fully commit to other things – family time, a fair bit of chores (the amount of ‘stuff’ one accumulates in attics and garden sheds is simply staggering) and, if at all possibly, catch up on some reading. (Probably even more so than ‘to try’ whiskies, I have ‘to read’ books lying about, and they have the benefit that I can consume them again and again without having to replace them, unlike, you know, a bottle of whisky.) This summer, things kicked off rather abysmal, when talking weather. It seems as if Summer got cancelled altogether and we went straight from Spring to Autumn. Luckily, after a dreadful start of July, things rapidly improved, weatherwise, and now, halfway through August we’ve had a great streak of very agreeable, sometimes even downright hot summery weather. Which, truth be told, doesn’t really incentive me to get deep down and serious with a glass of whisky. While I can enjoy a lighter style of whisky during summer, I tend to enjoy it much more like an inobtrusive, background sipper, rather than feeling inclined to get all serious and assess it – particularly when it’s still °27 (81 Fahrenheit) or so at 9 p.m.

But anyway, I’m back and I’m keen to do some reviewing again. As I said in my last review before the summer break, I’m building towards 200 reviews and 5 years of whisky blogging.  So I want to do something a bit special and try and discuss some of the more ‘special occasion’ stuff in the cabinet. As it’s still somewhat too hot to fully appreciate those, I thought it would be a good idea to clear the sample shelf a bit and in doing so, focus on some American classics and how they came to be exactly that.

We often identify US whisk(e)y with one specific brand: Jack Daniel’s Tennessee whiskey, who make a point of emphasizing that they are a) not a bourbon (well , they are, technically) and b) from Tennessee. Why? well, because what probably ‘defines’ American style whiskey, these days anyway, is  bourbon, and in doing so, we tend to narrow things further down to one specific state: Kentucky. And it makes sense, of course it does. Jim Beam, Four Roses, Wild Turkey, Elijah Craig, Blanton’s, Eagle Rare, Buffalo Trace,  Maker’s Mark, Evan Williams, and half a dozen others: all Kentucky bourbon brands that have become all but synonymous with ‘American whiskey’ and  will at the very least ring a bell or two to those of us who are more focused on Scotch single malt.

Michter’s Kentucky bourbon (45.7% ABV) and single barrel rye (42.4% ABV), both NAS but said to be anywhere between 5 and 8 yo).

However, if there’s one style of whiskey that ‘defines’ the American spirit, the drink that became synonymous with the ‘conquest of the west’, the drink that accompanied settlers from Europe who were  trying to take root in that land of opportunities, then it’s not bourbon. It’s rye. German and to a lesser extent Swiss,  Dutch and Belgian settlers seeking their fortune in states like Pennsylvania and (after the American Revolution) Ohio, brought with them the knowledge of making rye based schnapps, only to discover (probably much to their delight) that rye grain agreed particularly well with the fertile lands of their new homeland. By the 1770’s rye whiskey  had well established its name and fame as a quality drink, and a few of those distilleries from that era are still well known today. Rittenhpouse, Old Overholt, and Michter’s to be precise. All proud Pennsylvania distilleries, often dating back to well before the American Independence even.

The thing is: these days, you’ll find that these brands are nowhere to be found in the whole of Pennsylvania, as you’ll need to move further down south and then west, to Kentucky. The original Michter’s distillery (founded in 1753 and then named ‘Schenk’s ‘ after its founder) in Schaefferstown (Pennsylvania Dutch country) is still a National Historic Landmark, and became famous for producing high quality  pot still (rye)  whiskey (as showcased in their logo even today), but was mothballed in 1989. The rights to the name were bought by a New  York company and resurrected a new Michter’s distillery. Only this time, production was moved to Louisville in Kentucky. The decision to move away from the original plant and start all over in the heartland of American whiskey, makes perfect sense from a business perspective, as it guaranteed them access to both  resources and knowledge. We might look at this choice with a bit of scepticism from today ‘s point of view (as these days there’s an awful lot of emphasis on provenance and craft) but we need to bear in mind that American whiskey, much like Scotch, was struggling a fair bit in the early 1990’s and was only just picking itself up again.

Today, Michter’s offers a wide variety of NAS and age stated releases, some widely available, some quite small batch. The two at hand today come from samples that have been sitting in my cabinet for quite a  while, so it’s about time I’m  giving them their due attention.

Unfortunately I have zero information about the mashbill of either the bourbon of the rye. A few interesting things though: Michter’s have acquired a 205 acre farm (83 Ha) some 7 years ago on which they grow their own sustainable barley and rye. So likely they source their corn and (guessing here) their wheat as well. Also, rather than putting their new age spirit in barrels at the industry standard 62.5% ABV (125 proof), they use a lower filling strength of 51.5%  ABV (103 proof ), which (according to their website) used to be the ‘Kentucky gold standard’ of filling strength which allows them to use less water to lower the ABV when bottling. My  inner geek loves these little facts and peculiarities So I thought I’d share it with you as well.

Let’s kick off with their bourbon…

Nose

All the classic bourbon notes clock in for work, and in a very neat and orderly fashion at that. Cherries, some wood dust and pencil shavings, honey, shortbread, vanilla and honey suckle and underlying a very subtle and light grassy note. It’s not as if there are any surprises here, but it’s well balanced and delivered quite lovely. Off to a good start.

Palate

Compact arrival. Whereas on the nose all the different flavour elements were allowed their place in the spotlights, it’s more of a ‘big wave’ of flavours on the arrival as it’s all and everything at once and simultaneously. Pencil shavings and cherry notes are dominating now, and also there’s that mineral-metallic note (although it’s a bit subdued, which I’m grateful for as I’m not overly keen to find it in a bourbon). Pleasant enough but definitely far more straightforward and one dimensional than what the nose announced.

Finish

Warming with mild spices and overall quite short

Onwards (and upwards?) to their rye then.

Nose

 A bit dense and closed even. By no means an outspokenly bold or obvious rye at all, in fact. The ‘classic’ rye notes are there – that slightly bitter peppermint/eucalyptus green note mixed in with some cherries and bubble gum, sitting alongside a faint suggestion of wood and grain dust. Nice, but almost shy.

Palate

What was there on the nose (and also what wasn’t there, I’ll add), is confirmed on the palate. Cherries, some spices, bubble gum. Also there’s a distinct note of deep, toasted wood bringing along chocolate notes.

Finish

Woody-spicy, alongside grain notes. Again, not overly long.

Final thoughts

The bourbon can easily be defined as ‘classic’, ‘decent’ yet it’s  also ‘unsurprising’. Well-made and craftly put together making for easy sipping stuff. The rye is more peculiar I reckon. It’s probably one of the softest, shiest ryes I’ve encountered so far and if tasted blind, I could easily mistake this for a bourbon. I like my ryes to be creamy, full flavoured and also a bit ‘love it or hate it’. This is playing it safe, to put it mildly, and while I enjoyed it, I’m not sure that’s how I want my rye to be. Next week: more American classics!