"You may hate me but it ain't no lie
Baby rye rye rye
Rye rye"
(Justin knew what he was talking about)
Rye: it’s arguably the most divisive category of whisky out there. More than blends, bourbons or smoky and peaty Islay malts, rye seems to have ‘love it or hate it’ written all over it, in big neon letters at that. Hence why I subtitled this blogpost ‘the devil’s grain’. Not that I’m averse to the stuff, far from it. In fact, a recent release from Millstone, their 10 yo batch strength ‘Founder’s Reserve’ (essentially a bumped up version of their already quite impressive 100 rye) is one of the best whiskies I’ve tasted in 2024. When done right, a rye can deliver a wonderfully complex harmony of oiliness, green notes, sweetness, fruit, spices & liquorice and wood, but there’s equally no denying it can be spiky, hot & rough and very drying.
It’s already been hinted at, but despite our preconceptions that rye is mainly an American/Canadian thing, these days rye is produced pretty much everywhere, given that the climate conditions allows for it. Generally speaking, rye is an ‘easy-going’ grain variety, meaning it can grow in rough weather, on less rich (sometimes even poor) soil and overall it doesn’t require the same amount of TLC and dedication as barley. But there are considerable downsides to working with rye when you’re looking to distil it. One of the main issues with rye, is that it’s very ‘sticky’. This characteristic makes it hard to wash as a wash made from rye can literally turn into glue in the process. Furthermore, it also tends to foam during fermentation and as if that’s not enough, there are stories a plenty of a ryewash literally burning in the stills as a consequence of it being so sticky (as part of the wash would stick to the sides of the still and burn on the steam coil, rather than happily bubbling, floating and evaporating around).
(c) Shutterstock
I already touched on the topic of how rye whisky was ‘the whiskey that made America’ a few weeks ago, so for the sake of this review, let’s put the focus to the other side of the Atlantic and look at the role of rye in Europe. Because, if not in Scotland (which we’ll get to in a minute), in recent years, rye has seen something of a revival and is now produced by quite a few European distilleries.
From the Netherlands, Millstone (Zuidam) has been mentioned, but of course there’s Kyrö in Finland, Kilbeggan and Teeling in Ireland, Domaine des Hautes Glaces in France, Stauning in Denmark and likely a few dozen others spread out over all corners of Europe. And it makes sense, as rye is, particularly in northern and central Europe, very much a heritage grain. Rye likely originated in the bronze age (roughly 1800-1500 BC) in what is now central Turkey and pretty much conquered half the world since the days of the Roman Empire. Initially deemed an inferior weed compared to wheat and barley, it turned the odds (mainly because it adapts so well and is so easy to grow) and the use of rye in the production and preparation of food and drinks came into full swing since the middle ages and essentially never left. In these parts (Netherlands , Belgium, northern France, Germany) rye was and still is used for making malt wine, jenever and schnapps. So heritage and tradition a plenty, and with the renewed focus on things like provenance, sustainability, short-chain and locality, it only makes sense that rye, be it as a core ingredient in the mash bill or even a category of single malt rye whisky, got picked up by many European distilleries in the current yet slightly wavering whisky boom.
Some of them produce absolutely flabbergasting good stuff, but to say European rye is just a copy-paste from what’s been going on in Northern America, would be doing it injustice. Mainly because there’s little in the way of matching standards or uniform legislation across the pond. For example, in the US and Canada additional enzymes can be used to assist with processing prior to distillation, but these practices are not permitted in Scotch and many parts of Europe (as many European countries did copy-paste Scottish legislation), stipulating that only the enzymes naturally present in malted rye or malted barley can be used.
Speaking of Scotland, it's quite a different story in Britain altogether. While rye was used for producing booze in many incarnations and forms since the late middle ages, it never really took off, as it never really took root on the British Isles – proverbially AND literally speaking- for producing food. As a consequence, farming rye, particularly in England and Scotland, became in decline since the 19th century. Apart from the Hebrides (where it absolutely thrived), the rest of Britain showed little interest in cultivating it. Nonetheless, rye managed to keep on playing an important role in whisky making until well in the 20th Century. Although rye was, for reasons explained above, more expensive to use compared to barley or other grain varieties, unmalted rye was used as the ‘vessel’ in which to cultivate a distillery’s own yeast strain, while malted rye was believed to add depth and body to a whisky. These days, rye whisky in Scotland remains something of a rarity, despite the best efforts of even the biggest player out there. Johnnie Walker’s High Rye is an attempt to embrace and celebrate the old traditional importance of rye in blended whiskies; Bruichladdich since 2017 has equally been experimenting with rye and so has Loch Lomond. Inchdairnie has its RyeLaw, Arbikie their ‘Highland Rye’ range, but both seem to struggle to get proper lift off. Not because their whisky is bad, but because of the frankly ludicrous price tags of around £100 to even £250 for 4 or 5 year old whiskies, I’ll add. England, it seems, has made more progress when it comes to embracing the idea of rye whisky. Seeing how the concept of whisky is still a bit of a novelty in England, it makes sense that, with the pioneering spirit that tends to come with it, English whisky makers are less burdened by traditions compared to their neighbours up north and, as a consequence, are more willing to try and explore all and everything there is to whisky.
Filliers 8 yo Belgian rye whisky. 46.5% ABV, 50 cl, €40 (£35), 2023 release
I’ve already namedropped a few European distilleries who’ve fully embraced rye whisky. I’m keeping it close to home on this occasion as I’m (re)visiting a local distillery. When I say local, I mean Filliers (pronounce it as 'Fill Ears' if you're an English native speaker) is some 65 km (40 odd miles) from where I live. I’ve talked about the background and history of this distillery in my piece on ‘whisky fatigue’ so I won’t go into too much details here, but I’ll recap the essence. Filliers is in fact 3 distilleries in one. One for making jenever, one for making gin, and one for making single malt whisky. The interesting bit here, is that the jenever stills (and not the pot stills for their single malt) are also used for making their rye whisky. This may seem odd at first, but makes perfect sense when you think about it. Rye, as a grain, is an important contributor to their jenevers already, and seeing how many difficulties and challenges come into play when processing and distilling rye, it’s only logical how you would reserve those pot stills for your single malt. I don’t know the entire ins and outs, but for their jenever, Filliers use a combination of column stills for a first run, and alambic pot stills for the 2nd distillation. If they’re using the same wash for their rye, I’m assuming they also use the same process.
Until recently, Filliers was releasing several younger ryes (3 – 4 years old) under the brand name ‘Sunken Still’. This name comes from an interesting wee anecdote that takes us back to the days of the First World War. The German army occupying Belgium confiscated all and everything that had metal in it, as copper, bronze, iron … was obviously very precious and sought after during war times. Rather than complying with this demand, then owners, in an act of civil rebellion and insubordination, dismantled their stills and threw them in the nearby pond. Hence 'Sunken Still'. Pretty cool story and a very clever move, marketing wise, as it both appeals to a wide audience while showing provenance and heritage as well. This range seems to have been discontinued and replaced with a new core range of a 5 year old and an 8 year old. I picked up the latter after visiting the distillery earlier this year. The outcome is still limited to some 5000 bottles, and it’s mainly available in Belgium (obviously), the Netherlands, but also the UK (through Royal Mile whiskies). This puppy is made from 100% rye - let’s tuck in.
Nose
Sweetness from sugar and rhubarb, with a good dose of vanilla notes and pink bubble gum in the mix. A herbal - green freshness, juniper, soft wood notes and something halfway between spices an cola cubes. Classic ryes notes for sure. Nice balance, nothing complex.
Palate
That green-herbal (eucalyptus) note is immediately there. Wood spice and other spices – ginger and black pepper, with perhaps some aniseed and liquorice in it as well. The sweeter notes are more subdued, but still make enough of an appearance to prevent the green and spice notes from taking over the show and running away with it. On the mouthfeel it’s ever so slightly effervescent at first, only to turn clinging and drying. Nice and quite quaffable, and while it’s quite busy, it’s also if not simple, then definitely easy or somewhat straightforward.
Finish
Medium long, quite some spices (clove, nutmeg, ginger) and somewhat peppery.
Final Thoughts
A classic rye in every sense of the word. All the typical notes are clocking in for work, and (possibly because it still has that little bit of ‘spikiness’ to it), this comes across as a ‘young’ 8 year old whisky. I don’t think this is a bad thing, though, as it allows plenty of space for the spirit character. Which, for the record, I think is absolutely decent. I’ m keen to see where they take things with this one, as I believe a 10 or 12 yo version of this in years to come might well aspire to becoming something truly special. The delivery and presentation are absolutely on point, I reckon. Despite it being presented in a 50 cl bottle, I like the apothecary touch they gave this: elegant, sober and stripped from meaningless flannel. Addd that to the decent ABV (46.5%), and a very fair price of €40 (£35), and overall there is very little to argue about. It does the job, and delivers for what you pay. Is it a spectacular whisky? No. Am I enjoying this? Absolutely I am. 82/100
To end today’s rambling, I wholeheartedly encourage you to tune in and contribute to the OSWA’s. The nomination show kicks things off this Saturday and after that, it’s up to us, the whisky community, to throw our 2 cents in the hat and pick what floats our whisky boats. To my knowledge, it’s pretty much the only community driven whisky awards out there, and the more people use their voice, the stronger the message sent to the industry, and the stronger our community.
Next week: more grains, from the other side of the world, at that!
(The alambic jenever stills at Filliers, also used to make their rye. In front of them: master distiller Pedro Saez del Burgo.)
Another engaging read (as per usual.) Thanks Menno.