Tips On How To Label An Unaged Rye Whiskey.

A micro-producer writes, "just read your whiskey blog concerning the new Jack Daniel's Unaged Rye Whiskey. This is very interesting. My husband and I own a small artisan distillery and have had our labels in for approval with the TTB. We received our second rejection and, lo and behold, it's about the wording for our Unaged Rye Whiskey."

It seems a shame that while modern distillers can make a product their ancestors would have called rye whiskey, we can’t call it that today.

Until the second half of the 19th century, most whiskey was not aged. Folks probably didn't call it 'rye whiskey,' they probably just called it 'whiskey.' But it was spirit straight from the still. You can make such a product today, but you can't call it 'whiskey.'

By the time Federal rules about the standards of identity for distilled spirits were being written, early in the 20th century, the aging of whiskey in oak barrels had become so common and expected that whiskey was defined as a distilled spirit made from grain that had been stored in oak containers. Rye whiskey, furthermore, had to, among other things, be aged in new and charred oak barrels.

Before you start to complain about damned government regulations, recall that these rules were written to protect consumers from dishonest or misleading labeling and they have worked pretty well. The problem is one typical of government regulation. It has a hard time keeping up with changes of attitudes and ideas among the people it's supposed to protect.

Setting aside the desirability of unaged rye whiskey, it is a historically legitimate style and not that hard to understand, so the possibility of consumers being confused about it is small.

We've learned from the recent Jack Daniel's experience that the only suitable classification available from TTB is 'Distilled Spirits Specialty,' which is a catch-all for any distilled spirit that can't qualify for one of the other existing classifications.

Although it makes sense that there should be an 'unaged rye whiskey' class, none exists. Since spirit classified as ‘rye whiskey’ must be aged, ‘unaged rye whiskey’ is a regulatory impossibility. Many people have blithely said TTB should just create and define such a category, but it doesn't work that way. It might actually require an act of Congress. Maybe not, but it certainly requires going through a long and arduous regulatory rule making process.

Part of TTB’s problem is that for the first 70 of its 80 years of existence, it dealt mostly with big companies, with compliance departments and lots of lawyers, who were making me-too products. Consequently, TTB is not well equipped to deal with hundreds of small producers who are, in many cases, trying to push the envelope on everything.

But all is not hopeless. Here's how other producers have solved this problem.

When the folks who run Washington's restored distillery at Mount Vernon wanted to sell unaged rye whiskey, they actually aged it, very briefly, in new, charred oak barrels.

This is called gaming the system or, more charitably, finding a work-around. Under the rules, although aging is required, the length of time is up to you (24 hours is plenty) as is the size of the barrel. It just has to be new, which means you can use it only once for rye whiskey. It also has to be oak and charred.

This can, of course, be expensive and you have to pass that cost along to your customers. The folks at Mount Vernon didn't care, they planned to charge a lot anyway.

Another alternative is to age in a used barrel. Again, how long it’s in the wood doesn’t matter. You can't call it 'rye whiskey' but you can call it ‘whiskey,’ as the class, and use ‘rye’ in the name, you just can’t put the words ‘rye' and 'whiskey’ together. You can, for example, call it 'Chuck's Old Rye, An Illinois Whiskey.'

This way is much less expensive because not only does a used barrel cost about 40 percent less than a new one, you can use the used barrel an unlimited number of times, so you only need one no matter how much whiskey you make.

Another alternative is to make corn whiskey instead of rye whiskey, since corn whiskey is already an exception in the rules. It doesn't have to be aged at all.

One idea no one has tried yet is getting a cooperage to make cheap, piece-of-crap oak containers. Essentially, disposable barrels. Since TTB doesn't care how long the spirit is stored in the container, how good does is have to be? It doesn't even have to be a barrel. The rule just says, 'charred new oak containers.' Any vessel that meets those requirements and can hold the whiskey for even a few seconds should pass TTB muster.

Then you can knock the containers down and burn them to fire your boiler.

Musings On A Couple Of Recent Posts.

Reading back through some recent posts, I had a few thoughts that seemed to be worth sharing.

On the subject of the Old Fashioned, I know what I'm about to say is blasphemy, but whiskey and Sprite, with a few dashes of bitters, is a reasonably authentic shortcut for an Old Fashioned. The only really inauthentic thing is the carbonation. After all, the drink is whiskey, water, bitters, sugar, and citrus. To keep it, again, reasonably authentic, you have to use a light hand with the soda. A ratio of about one-to-one seems to work pretty well, and I'm also generous with the bitters.

Most recipes that call for bitters call for a 'dash.' Gaz Regan taught me to disregard that. Watching him make a Manhattan once, I counted 14 dashes. The folks who have looked into this sort of thing say bitters are essential, both in the drinks that traditionally call for them, and in many that don't. I find the bitterness is what gives the drink its sophistication.

On the subject of 'legal moonshine,' I did notice since I made that post that Short Mountain's label describes a spirit made at least in part from sugar, which I've seen in a couple of other labels and label applications, but have never actually seen on the street as a product.

Several of my critics say I'm behind the times. That people want a legal moonshine product and thus they shall have one. The problem remains, however, that there is no agreement about what moonshine is as a spirit type. Most real moonshine is made using 100% table sugar as the fermentable substrate. This has been true for as long as cane sugar has been plentiful and cheap.

Remember, moonshine isn't about 'craft' or 'quality.' It's about making money, which means making spirit as quickly and easily as possible without getting caught.

One hears about corn being added in some recipes but unless there is cooking involved, and the introduction of enzymes, the corn is just for show. You need to cook corn to get the starch to dissolve, then you need to add enzymes to convert the liquified starch into sugar. If you don't, the corn is just a prop. It has no effect on the final product.

Most of the products that have made it to market labeled as moonshine, such as Junior Johnson's Midnight Moon, from Piedmont Distillers, are either vodka or corn whiskey. Midnight Moon is vodka, distilled from corn. Georgia Moon, a venerable product made by Heaven Hill, is corn whiskey.

Short Mountain isn't the only micro-distiller toying with the 'real' moonshine (i.e., sugarjack) idea, but unless they distill it out to something like vodka, it's probably going to taste awful. That's what people expect from moonshine, they think (mistakenly) that the bad taste means it's strong. (It doesn't, it just means it tastes bad.) It remains to be seen if people will actually buy a true sugarjack product and, most importantly, buy it again.

Under the rules, a distilled spirit made from cane sugar is rum. If it's not 100% cane sugar, then you probably have to call it a 'distilled spirit specialty,' which is a catchall category for products that don't fit any of the established types.

It should be noted that no product made from cane sugar, nor any product distilled above 95% ABV (i.e., vodka) is whiskey. Even the Piedmont product, which is made mostly from corn, is not whiskey because they distill it to vodka alcohol levels and, in fact, it is classified as vodka; which it says, in very small type, on the label.

And, as vodka goes, it's not bad.

But it's not whiskey, and it's not moonshine.

That's another thing that has been going on with the mirco-distillery movement, people griping that they want to call things whatever they want to call them and that the rules should be changed so they can. People have always wanted to do this, and that's precisely why the rules (laws, actually) exist.

I hasten to add that not all micro-distillers are this way. There are some terrific people running small distilleries, people who do things the right way, who are steeped in both the science and the history, and who work their asses off. It has been a pleasure for me to get to know many of them. The poseurs, we reassure ourselves, will surely wash out and go away in time.

It can't happen soon enough.

More Thoughts About Elijah Craig.

Reading back Tuesday's post about Elijah Craig, I got to thinking about it.

Since Collins is the sole source for such a pivotal claim in bourbon history, it bears closer examination. First, Collins (in 1874) uses the term 'bourbon whiskey' without defining it, either there or anywhere else in the book. That suggests he was confident his readers would understand the term the same way he did. Although we don't know exactly what that was, the inclination is to assume that 'bourbon whiskey' meant then what it does now. Did it? Is that a fair assumption? Maybe not.

Second, why did he clearly point to Craig without naming him? If you read the rest of the page, it is what in 1874 may have passed for a light diversion in the midst of a serious enterprise, a sidebar meant primarily to entertain. Therefore, I have always assumed, he was sloppy about it, just making a list from odds and ends in his notes, but not treating it as seriously as he did most of the work. What if I'm wrong? What if he was more purposeful than I've ever suspected? And, if so, what was he trying to say?

Henry Crowgey in his book, Kentucky Bourbon, The Early Years of Whiskeymaking, mentions a 1789 letter from Craig to his legal representative that may shed some light.

In the letter, Craig announces that he has a man from Pennsylvania "coming to make corn." Who was this man, and why was the event so memorable? Are we right to assume that "to make corn" means to make corn whiskey?

Perhaps Collins is coy about naming Craig because he is referring to something done by this "man from Pennsylvania" at Craig's behest, but not by Craig himself.

Craig is usually ruled out as the 'inventor' of bourbon because routine aging in new, charred oak barrels came much later, probably in the mid-19th century.

But maybe Collins is talking about something else. We know Kentuckians were making whiskey from corn before 1789, maybe the 1789 innovation was the deliberate addition of rye to the recipe. Perhaps that was the initial distinction between corn whiskey and bourbon whiskey.

Today, most bourbons contain a little bit of rye, 8 to 15 percent in most cases, to give the beverage a little more flavor and, more to the point, a distinctive flavor that is neither corn whiskey nor rye whiskey, but bourbon whiskey, even with little or no aging. Pennsylvania was known for making rye whiskey just as Kentucky was known for corn. Perhaps this mysterious man at Rev. Craig's fulling mill brought the two together and that is what Collins was really memorializing on his page of 'Kentucky Firsts.'

Geek-Out Warning: Green Corn Malt.

This whiskey enthusiasm can get very geeky. How geeky? Keep reading.

I've had several conversations with people over the years about malting corn. (I warned you.) Malt is the natural way to make the enzymes that turn starch into sugar. Sugar is what you need to make alcohol.

Any grain will malt. If corn is all you have, you can malt it. Though that's not commonly done today, we know it was done in the past.

I also had heard that malted corn often was not heated to stop germination, as is the conventional practice when you malt barley. It was simply sprouted, ground, and used immediately to make a whiskey mash.

I learned today that Finger Lakes Distilling in Burdett, New York, is now making the mash for their excellent Glen Thunder Corn Whiskey with green corn malt. They tell all about it in the March issue of their email newsletter. To get on the list, go to their web site here.

Do You Have Whiskirexia Nervosa?

Whiskirexia nervosa is a whiskey buying disorder characterized by a distorted whiskey inventory image and an obsessive fear of running out of whiskey. Individuals with whiskirexia nervosa tend to already own more whiskey than they can ever drink, even as they continue to buy more.

Sufferers can typically be told repeatedly that they have plenty of whiskey, really more than enough, by persons who they ordinarily would trust, and they may even in moments of coherence acknowledge that fact intellectually, but they can't stop buying.

What can you do if you think you may have this condition? A support group appears to be forming here, although I'm not exactly sure what they support. (I suspect they're all really enablers.)