Whisky Rage #2: Bourbon whiskey vs. Tennessee whiskey

Bourbon Vs. Tennessee Whiskey

Whiskey Rage #2

10/30/13

A few weeks ago, I wrote an article about removing age statements from Scotch in a fit of rage. It finally got to the point where I had to blow off some steam. Well, here we are again, and I’m not happy. I got in an argument about Tennessee Whiskey. It would seem that, if you want to impress your friends about your knowledge of whiskey, you will tell them that Jack Daniel’s ISN’T bourbon, it’s Tennessee Whiskey. WELL NOW, excuseeeeeee me. I seem to have forgotten the fundamentals of reading labels. *Nasally voice* “Well the label on Jack Daniel’s doesn’t say bourbon, does it”. Well John Doe, you aren’t just messing with any angry whisky drinking fireball. You’re messing with an angry whisky drinking fireball who does his research!

Unfortunately, if you type in a Google search about whether or not Tennessee whiskey is bourbon, a number of “credible” sites will tell you “Of course not! It’s made in Tennessee and charcoal filtered”. So Tennessee has succeeded in its goal of brand differentiation. The whole world of semi-educated drinkers will obstinately refute the idea that Jack Daniel’s is in fact bourbon. So why do I choose to argue that, and go against the flow of contemporary drinkers? Because I don’t just go by what one link on the internet tells me. So let me start with the facts:

Bourbon, as we all know, is a 51% corn mash whiskey, sour mashed or otherwise, aged in virgin White Oak barrels for at least 2 years, and made in the United States. NO, it doesn’t have to be made in Kentucky, and if you say it does, then may I please refer you to Prichards, Journeyman Distillery, Two James, New Holland, and the hundreds of other distilleries that are currently making bourbon outside of Kentucky. Don’t believe me? Look it up! The point is, there is a legal definition of bourbon, and Tennessee whiskey fits all of the parameters for being bourbon.

“But angry yelling man, Tennessee whiskey is charcoal filtered and that makes it different than bourbon!” Ahh, yes it is. Most of it, anyways. Prichard’s actually makes Tennessee whisky, labeled as Tennessee whiskey, that isn't charcoal filtered. In fact, Prichard’s makes a bourbon too. Do you know what the difference is? The difference is the kind of corn they use (white corn [Tennessee] instead of yellow corn [bourbon]).

Do you still think that charcoal filtering differentiates Tennessee whiskey from bourbon? Well what if I told you that Kentucky bourbon Ezra Brooks is charcoal filtered as well, and it’s STILL BOURBON. And by the way, Brita filters are also charcoal filters, so if you think Jack Daniel’s isn’t bourbon, I better not hear you calling your water “water” after it comes out of your Brita pitcher! It’s Tennessee H₂O, fine sir (bru ha ha). I bet you’re still arguing that Tennessee whiskey isn’t bourbon because somebody said it wasn’t.

Well then, let me ask you another question. Let us say that Jack Daniel’s decides to make a rye whiskey (they have, by the way), and charcoal filter that rye whiskey (which they probably will). Do we then say that because that whiskey was made in Tennessee and charcoal filter, it isn’t a rye whiskey? What do we call it then? Jack Daniel’s Tennessee² whiskey? I would postulate that when Jack Daniel’s comes out with a rye whiskey, they will call it a rye whiskey (they call it "unaged Tennesse Rye" at this point). So scientifically speaking, if making rye whiskey in Tennessee doesn’t change the fact that it is rye whiskey, why would we apply that logic to bourbon?!

I bet your asking now, if you have bothered to entertain my argument, “So why is there so much information out there saying Tennessee whiskey isn’t bourbon?” The answer is simple, and as frustrating as it is, it’s because Tennessee whiskey distillers WANT you to think they’re different. Why? It is brand differentiation. If Jack Daniel’s was just another bourbon, would it really be all that much more appealing than the cheaper Jim Beam alternative, or even worse; Ezra Brooks? I highly doubt it, when you’re having your $5 Jack and Coke. Brand image is what most of these companies survive on, and they’re succeeding in it.

I don’t blame anybody for thinking that the two of them are different, because even though NAFTA defines Tennessee whiskey as a type of bourbon, we hear all the time that they’re different. That being said, if you’re at the bar with somebody who ACTUALLY knows what they’re talking about, and you try and impress them with your knowledge, all you’re doing is making yourself look like an ass.

Afterthought: I’m not advocating going to Tennessee and arguing that Jack is bourbon, unless your fixing to get shot. Your safety is your own responsibility.

Opinions: Age Statements on Scotch

Review #None

10/16/13

Age Statements on Scotch Whisky

Preface: This is strictly an opinion, and does not reflect every angle of every facet of everything ever.

We spend so much of our time talking about age statements on Scotch whisky, even if we don't mean to. "Oh, this one is 12 years old; its only 4 years old?; wow, at an age of 25 years..." and so on and so on. It is almost a crutch on our culture towards the quality of Scotch. Our perception is hugely skewed by the wrong senses, like viewing the color of whisky which tells us nothing due to the use of unnatural colorants, and by seeing age statements and extravagant packaging on bottles. I think they all have their place, but like humanity proves to itself on a continuous basis, we don't care about the minutia and instead of looking at quality we make ourselves catatonic off of a whole bottle of Jack Daniels and brag about it later. We grab the most readily available "information" to us and form vast-sweeping assumptions and opinions on the matter, because we can't be BOTHERED to learn an educated amount about it.

My interest today is to talk about why having age statements on a bottle is so important, and it is obviously not to give some clout to the bottle's image. While I do believe that they have the negative side effect of making people assume something that has a high probability of being incorrect, i.e. older is better, they play an important role in Scotch whisky, and some companies are pushing to get rid of them, it seems.

Macallan has recently announced their new range of whiskies, which does two things that piss me off. The first thing is the whiskies are named after colors, and OF COURSE, the darker whiskies are the more expensive ones. So that is one marketing fallacy on the board. That I can get over, because if customers are ignorant enough to believe that dark color equates to quality, they deserve to waste their hard earned money. The thing I cannot get over is that it eliminates the age statements on their 10, 12, and 15 year whiskies! This is apparently a new marketing push. Some people are writing about this as if it dispels some kind of preconception that we all had: "Oh, age statement doesn't matter! I get it now. Thank you Macallan."

I should append my previous comments with a precursor. I don't like Macallan as a company. In fact, I HATE them. I don't hate their whisky, just the way that they are diluting the Scotch business with things like super-cool flasks that you can buy with a bottle of Scotch on the side for thousands of dollars. I mean, granted, I don't find Macallan whiskies that good, and I believe they are overpriced for their money, but that doesn't bother me. I can name a dozen other distilleries that fit the same description, and I have no qualms with.

Why is eliminating age statements such a bad thing? Well by itself, if it were for one bottle in a range, it might be forgivable. I have four points I will try to make concisely (and will probably fail) as to why removing the age statements on bottles of Scotch is detrimental to the consumer.

The reason this is such a bad stand to introduce into the market is because it eliminates indicators of age. It seems obvious, but spend some time thinking about it. In some way, shape or form, age describes a certain characteristic of a whisky: the ratio of spirit to oak/other influence. Sure, we've all had Scotch that said it was 18 years old, and tasted like it was 5, but in general it gives us an idea of what we're getting in the bottle. It also allows us to understand how the barrel interacted with the whisky. It fuels our imagination, allowing us to sit down and think, "this was probably a twice refilled bourbon hogshead, because the impact of oak is not nearly as prominent as I would expect". In other words, it promotes the FUN in whisky.

Let's consider a second point. A company could bottle five whiskies from five different barrels, add varying amounts of caramel colorant, and price them differently. This is a no-holds sandbox of margins now. This is a great way for a distillery to monopolize their pricing scheme and turn greater profits on everything, regardless of quality. I know people push for the "magic of whisky", so we don't want science to "figure it out", but I would much rather see a distillery learn how to control the quality of their maturation experience than create a BS labeling scheme to void them of any liability towards pricing.

And quality. What sort of consumer-related quality control is implemented for a bottle of Scotch? Nothing really, except some guy standing at a bottling line, inspecting every 100th case to make sure the label is straight and clean and taking a swig every other one. Governmental regulations are the most hope we ever have of controlling quality. By Macallan eliminating a need for ages, they are eliminating an inherent quality assurance in their process. This isn't to say that quality will fall, just that their is no floor for it to land on if it does. And when I talk about quality, I am not confusing quality with luxury. Although a 15 year old whisky isn't necessarily higher quality than a 12 year old whisky, there is an implication towards the reduction of quality products when deregulation starts to happen.

My last point is cost. I talked about the profit side of things, but there is also the cost-focused justification. If Macallan is like any major company, they are interested in increasing sales and cutting costs. 20XX will come around, and somebody will tell the Macallan team they need to cut costs. Where do you think they're going to go first to cut costs? Let's say 50% of their WIP inventory (barrels) is whisky between the ages of 0-10 years and is worth 100X dollars in inventory costs, 40% of their inventory is between 10-20 years and is worth 150X dollars in costs, and 10% is above 20 years and is worth 75X dollars in inventory costs. If Macallan changes that proportion of <10 year whisky to 60% and takes that out of the 10-20 year range, that is a 5X reduction in cost, while revenues stay the same. Let's pretend X is $1,000,000. $5 M of easy cost reduction money is available just by having a larger proportion of young whisky. Maybe the figures aren't exact, but anybody can see the slippery slope implications.

I don't think Macallan is interested in dispelling any rumors about whisky by taking off age statements, because I'm sure it wouldn't even occur to most consumers (I could be wrong). There is clearly monetary value to Macallan, and as far as I can work out logically, it is not to the benefit of the customer. I should point out that I know Macallan is run by good people, except the...gentleman...who made this executive decision. But us as consumers, should we want distilleries to take us seriously, need to make a definitive stand against moves like this. If we don't, it is only going to get harder and harder for passionate consumers to find good product. As Ralfy would say, intrinsic quality!

If you've read this far, good for you. Gold star.

~K

Review 180: Port Charlotte PC6

Review 180

10/06/13

Port Charlotte PC6: 61.6% abv

Background: Cuairt beatha – the walk of life – I think this bottle is implying that the walk of life includes heavily peated Scotch. I highly support that sentiment. This whisky is of course a single malt Scotch from our good friends at Bruichladdich distillery. Being part of their heavily peated series, it goes under the title of Port Charlotte. Jim McEwan joined the Bruichladdich team in 2001 and started a series of peated heavyweights, called the PC series. PC6 has had exposure to ex-bourbon casks and a Madeira finishing cask as well. The bottle being drunk here is bottle 17,265 out of 18,000. It is 6 years old, as the name (PC6) suggests, and I’m really excited to try it.  

Straight

Nose:  Mmm. The smokey, intense, fragrant smell of peat never fails to excite me. This one is intense in vanilla, an interesting fruitiness, and a smell very reminiscent of pancake syrup. There is also an odd savory note that expresses itself on the top of the glass after some time in the glass. It reminds me slightly of a raw New York strip right before it’s slapped on the grill, which sounds like something you might not want to smell in a whisky, I realize. Don’t worry; it so subtle, you probably wouldn’t even notice. There is an assortment of berry fruitiness that is coming through prominently. This isn’t a dry smelling peat smoke, like you get out of Kilchoman. It is a thick, honey-sweet smoke that doesn’t overwhelm the senses, unless you’ve never smelled a peated Scotch that is. Baked apples with caramel are sort of a secondary notion in the nose. There is an earthy, herbal sense to it that sits in the background of some of the more dominant smells. Toasted nuts and fried bread are noticeable…fried bread, syrup, toasted nuts, and earthiness. Well, this whisky is obviously a funnel cake that’s been dropped on the ground (just a joke). The nose doesn’t display a challenging complexity, but it does have a diversity of flavors.

Arrival: The arrival starts off mellow enough, before quickly becoming excessively hot. If you’re looking for flavor without having added water to this whisky, look quickly. This will numb your tongue before you blink. The peat is assertive up front, but with a sweet, syrupy arrival parallel in prominence. It seems as if the Madeira is pretty dominantly asserting itself up front. Along with some honey, there is a slight citrus bite and some notes of fruits, but they don’t hold a candle to the intense battle the peat and Madeira are having up front. There is an earthy, slightly tobacco-like flavor in the arrival.

Body: The body banishes the initial sweetness, letting an earthy, grassy, and peat-like flavor to dominate. In the body, there is a really intense, but odd sort of quinine flavor that becomes apparent quickly and then dissipates. The body is probably the least eventful part of the whisky.

           

Finish: The finish is lasting, with the peaty, tobacco, and herbal flavors dragging through until the bitter end (ha ha). There is some slight peppercorn, with mild suggestions of sweetness showing dwindling signs of existence. There is orange rind present in the finish, for certain, and some mint and fluoride flavor as well. There is almost a piney, woody intensity in the finish that seems slightly like gin, without the extreme flavor. The finish is very diverse and interesting, without a doubt

With Water

Nose: With a little bit of water, notes of citrus start developing. The syrup-like sweetness has backed off a bit and to some extent, so has the peat. Maltiness is more prevalent, and some intense woodiness and ash smell has developed. There is still a level of sweetness present in the form of soft fruit notes.

Arrival: The arrival has lost some intensity, allowing the drinker to actually take some time and reflect on the taste (a nice feature). It is still peaty, in a zesty fashion, but has a basic element of marmalade sweetness to it. It is extremely earthy on the arrival now.

Body: The body actually takes a less intense and dry approach this time around, with some interesting lemon candy flavor coming through, with slightly floral elements complimenting it. It is better-rounded with water. There is vanilla present as well.

           

Finish: The finish is very much a reflection of how the body transformed after adding water. The balance changes, with the peppery dry/hot mouth feel still existing, but not completely destroying the taste buds. Much of the same flavors are present, with the smoky peat seeming to even out into a pleasant blanket of thick flavor on the tongue. That being said, the finish has become less complex and less eventful. At 61%, I would have guessed it to be a little more forgiving on the complexity side, but just playing with the water to whisky ratio could fix that.

Final Comments: PC6 is an expensive dram, to be sure, especially at the young age of 6 years old. I can’t say it isn’t an experience, and the  Madeira cask finish is very well done in this case. Bruichladdich has produced a ton of fantastic malts, before and after McEwan. This particular malt isn’t a mind-blowing combination of complexity and uniqueness, but I believe it is does pretty well. The nose is inviting and different, and I think for a whisky this young, Bruichladdich does a good job of using the vibrant youth of the grain to make an exciting, yet enjoyable and tolerable malt. The million dollar question, or at least $125 question, is whether or not this is worth the buy. It is hard to say whether or not $125 is justifiable. It seems overpriced for value, but at 61%, at least they aren’t shorting you material. I guess I would say, if you enjoy peated whisky and are running out of “new” alternatives, the PC series won’t treat you wrong, but maybe the Peat Project, their newly released Scotch, will do just the same thing for you.

 

Why you’d buy it: You like the adventurous expressions by Bruichladdich and “want to catch them all”

Why you wouldn’t: It is hard to run across this bottle anymore, and you’ve tasted Peat Project

Score: 8.5/10