The Hemingway Daiquiri

It's always curious when myth, nostalgia, and marketing collide. Legend has it that Ernest Hemingway was hoofing it down Calle Obispo in Havana, Cuba looking for a restroom when he popped in to the Floridita to use their facilities. Before departing, Hemingway spotted the bartenders pouring a line of the same cocktail and asked to sample one. Upon sipping, Ernest proclaimed 'not bad, but make one without the sugar and double the rum'. And with this, the Papa Doble was born ... or so folklore would have us believe.

What is known is that Ernest Hemingway did indeed live in Cuba and he was indeed a prolific consumer of alcohol. Legend has it that Hemingway 'discovered' (more likely popularized) two cocktails from Cuba - the Mojito (from Bodeguita del Medio) and the Daiquiri (from Floridita).

Both establishments are still in business today, but by most accounts have become more tourist trap than proper cocktail destination. Happily though the recipes are available for all to make at home and enjoy.

The Hemingway Daiquiri has become a staple in our cocktail rotation, particularly in winter when Florida's citrus season produces its citrusy bounty. While it is unknown if Mr. Hemingway ever actually consumed his namesake daiquiri, it is a very nice balance of sweet and tart that is dangerously easy to consume.

I'd suggest using the best quality silver rum you can find - what you are looking for is a silver rum that can be sipped neat without fear of harsh, prickly edges. The next suggestion is to squeeze your own citrus - fresh lime and grapefruit really push this cocktail into the stratosphere.

The Hemingway Daiquiri

Ingredients

• 2 ounces good quality silver rum
• 3/4 ounce fresh lime juice
• 1/2 ounce fresh grapefruit juice
• 1/2 ounce Luxardo Maraschino Liqueur
• Simple Syrup (Optional, added to taste)

Composition
Combine the rum, lime, grapefruit, and Luxardo liqueur in a cocktail shaker. Stir and taste. If too bitter add a teaspoon of simple syrup, stir and re-taste. You are looking for a mixture that is just sweet enough to mask the cutting tartness of the fresh citrus without becoming excessively sweet.

Once satisfied with the tart/sweet balance, add ice to the shaker, plop the top on the shaker and shake well. Strain and serve in your preferred glass of choice.

“No, that is the great fallacy: the wisdom of old men. They do not grow wise. They grow careful.”
Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

Memorable Pours of 2019 - Nikka Coffey Grain Whisky

Holy moly, it seems like just a moment ago that I was typing up my favorite pours of 2018 and yet here we are at the conclusion of another year ... and decade for that matter. I've decided to mildly change things for 2019 and go with 'memorable' rather than 'favorite' pours. The truth is, I find some enjoyable aspect of nearly every whiskey I have tried and/or purchased through the years which results in my 'favorites' list being in a state of constant flux. Memorable whiskies however are those that come out of nowhere and totally blow my socks off or punch way above their weight. Essentially, these are whiskies whose purchase was a leap of faith or one that I had no great expectations for yet they dazzled and delighted.

First up, we head to Japan and one of Nikka's two distilleries, the Miyagikyo Distillery. Opened in 1969 and featuring eight pot stills, it's Miyagikyo's other still type, of which they have two examples, that is the focus today - Coffey column stills. Purchased by Nikka's founder Masataka Taketsuru in 1963 from the James Calder & Co. distillery in Bo'ness, Scotland, a Coffey still is an early variant of a column still, named after its inventor Irishman Aeneas Coffey in 1830. Column still manufacturers improved on Coffey's design through the years and today, column stills are used all over the world to produce almost every type of distilled spirit. What makes Nikka's two Coffey stills special however is that they are effectively distillation time capsules - woefully inefficient and primitive when compared to their modern-day counterparts, Nikka's Coffey stills produce a distillate entirely unique and only possible in those nearly sixty year old stills.

Nikka produces four types of spirits in their two Coffey stills - gin, vodka, malted barley whisky and the inspiration for this writeup - grain whisky. Of the four Coffey distilled spirits, only the malted barley and grain whiskies are exported to the United States. Speaking of grain, in Nikka's case, the grain consists of corn, 95% corn coupled with 5% malted barley. After distillation the grain whisky is sent to what is assumed to be a wildly diverse set of barrels for maturation - ex-bourbon and sherry all at various stages of 'freshness', hogsheads, butts, new oak, the list of possibilities really is staggering. Frustratingly, but understandably, Nikka remains mum on precisely how diverse their whiskey maturation barrel spread is. From here, Nikka's blenders take over, selecting and batching the final product from that deep and varied roster of barrels. Not for not, but here is where I personally feel the Japanese excel in whisky production - blending a myriad of different maturation styles into a final, composed whisky.

This bottle of Coffey Grain came into my life in precisely the same manner that the bottle of Nikka Pure Malt did - on clearance at my local grocery store. Marked down to $44.99, my curiosity peaked and the bottle came home with me. At the time of purchase, I had no knowledge of the whisky's tasting notes, production characteristics, or how it had fared on the various whiskey review sites across the Internet. I quite literally went into my first pour with zero idea what was in store for me. Imagine my genuine surprise when my first sniff of the glass reminded me immediately of corn whisky. Perhaps naively I had no expectation whatsoever that a Japanese distillery would choose to make a corn whisky; of all the grains I would have anticipated the Japanese using, corn was never in the realm of possibility for me. The aroma wafting up from the glass was seductively shocking - sweet corn, creamed corn, kettle corn, vanilla, some caramel are all at the forefront of the aroma. With time and patience, a gentle floral perfume emerges from the sugary shadows of the corn. Also lurking behind the corn sweetness is an unmistakable grassy grain/barley note. Really delicious stuff.

Moving on to the taste, I recall muttering my satisfaction such that my much better half's curiosity was peaked and asked to join along in the tasting. The sweetness from the nose continues on to the tongue but to a lesser degree. The whisky tastes sweet, but not a cloying sweetness; a controlled sweetness. The vanilla continues as does a subtle savory floral note. There is a dry grass/grain note on the palate as well as subtle fruit like apricot and nectarine. There is a creaminess, a velvety smoothness to the whisky that totally cloaks the respectable 45% ABV bottling strength. The finish, the weakest part of the experience for me, is medium-short and definitely left me wanting for more. The addition of water slightly tames the sweetness and exposes more of the floral/grassy notes, but to my tastes, the whisky is just about perfect exactly as it pours from the bottle.

It would be reasonable to think that Coffey Grain's 95% corn mashbill would make it an excellent and safe recommendation to anyone that enjoys bourbon, but I don't think that is the case at all. Nikka's Coffey Grain is far too gentle and restrained when compared to a typical bourbon's bold oak, caramel, and alcohol punch. I would however recommend this to fans of Scotch and Irish whisky, particularly if sweeter drams are enjoyed/preferred.

In a somewhat amusing (and frustrating) aside, I so enjoyed my initial pours of Coffey Grain that I swung by the same grocery store a few days later to pick up another bottle at their marked-down price but alas, the shelf space was empty; the clerk told me someone showed up and purchased the remaining three bottles claiming the price was too good to be true. And this brings me to the Debbie Downer aspect to this tale - the increasingly ludicrous (personal opinion) price Japanese Whisky commands at retail. Beginning in 2015(ish) and continuing through today, Japanese whisky prices have relentlessly climbed higher and higher. Today, the average asking price for Nikka's Coffey Grain whisky in my area is $70 - $80, nearly double what I paid for it. Personally, as much as I enjoy this whisky, I do not see myself willingly purchasing a bottle at today's asking price. At the end of the day, this is still a non-age stated grain whisky. Yes, it delivers an enjoyable experience, but that enjoyment is disproportionate to its current retail price in my opinion.

My recommendation is to seek out a reasonably priced pour of this whisky at a bar. Happily, the whisky is readily available and given the very posh reputation Japanese Whisky holds at the moment, the chances of finding a bottle at a watering hole is high. Give it a shot and if it twinkles the stars in your night sky, then seek out a bottle to call your very own.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and may your chestnuts be roasty while your angels be heralded and singy.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

It’s always refreshing to be reminded of just how good you actually have it in life. Of course such reminders usually come about when one ventures outside their tried and true comfort zone or rolls the dice on a completely unknown prospect. In the context of whiskey purchases, such a notion is far less daring than say investing in the latest startup that you read about on FaceTube or deciding now’s the time to finally start that Hootie & The Blowfish tribute band. I deviated from my established whiskey purchasing guidelines recently, twice in fact. One outcome was poor, the other quite good and in the end I was reminded of how reliable an old friend really is.

If you haven’t heard, American Whiskey is (has been) booming. As with most boom-town stories, the influx of interest brings an influx of cash which in turn brings a complete spectrum of options to the new legions of consumers. The options range from hidden gems offered by truly passionate small-scale producers to vastly overpriced and over-hyped snake oil products offered by hucksters. Sadly, the common readily available options are all too often brushed aside and forgotten, perceived as too pedestrian when compared to the new shiny offerings twinkling on store shelves. Every now again I succumb to this very failing, enticed by the prospect of discovering a gem yet unknown to the masses.

The first purchase, a ‘boutique’ bourbon from Finger Lakes Distilling in Burdett, New York came with a disproportionately high price tag that was, on the surface at least, justified by lofty and transparent production characteristics - barrel proof bottling strength, non-chill filtered, low (though not disclosed) distillation proof and low barreling proof (50% ABV vs the common 62.5% ABV). More influential however was the disclaimer that the whiskey spent the entirety of its six-year maturation in a barrel constructed of a variant of oak, Chinkapin, I’d never personally encountered. There is precedent for trying to discover exotic woods in which to mature whiskey; the Japanese whiskey world is enamored with Mizunara Oak and Buffalo Trace has launched an entire (and very difficult to find) series of releases featuring exotic wood varieties from around the world in which they age their bourbon. Whiskey nerds love to dissect minute aspects of whiskey production, but barrel characteristics has got to be a top-three topic. All this explains why a mysterious and exotic sounding oak variety led the charge in inspiring the purchase of an unknown and expensive whiskey.

The bourbon’s specifics:
McKenzie Single Barrel Bourbon (Bourbonr 6th Anniversary)
Region: New York
Mash Bill: 70% Corn, 20% Rye, and 10% Malted Barley
Strength: 52.8% ABV (105.6° Proof)
Color: Natural Color
Filtration: Non-Chill Filtered
Maturation: 6 Years in 100% Chinkapin Oak
Price: $75.00 (Seelbach’s)

The Good: The smell and initial taste are entirely unique to any other bourbon I have enjoyed - a green wood nuttiness but minimal resin and non-existent oak char. Controlled sweetness, far more corn sweetness than say brown sugar/caramel sweetness. I’d say this bourbon straddles nicely between sweet and savory.
The Bad: There is a musty, bitter nuttiness that appears towards the tail end of the sip and lingers throughout the finish. This bitterness is reminiscent of a roasted walnut that's started to go a bit rancid. The bitterness lingers for quite some time, hours in fact in the mouth, analogous to the lingering smokiness of a peated Islay Single Malt. Personally, I am not a fan of this impression, but others might be.
The Ugly: The price, by a long shot. There are just far too many bottles that retail for far less that I enjoy more than this bourbon. I can officially say that I regret making this purchase.

The second purchase, another ‘boutique’ bourbon (albeit to a lesser degree), from Newport, Kentucky, came at a price lower than its New York companion, but higher than the average bourbon of a similar age and strength. New Riff is a new kid on the block but has sent shockwaves through the whiskey world with their remarkably well rounded bourbons that totally betray their short maturation periods. Typically aged around four years, New Riff’s bourbons should be a fiery handful with plenty of alcohol prickle, but miraculously, New Riff’s bourbons are nothing of the sort. Like Finger Lakes Distillery, New Riff also distills and barrels at lower proofs than virtually all major producers, though no specifics are disclosed. One specific detail worth mentioning is this bourbon’s astonishing rye content. Most bourbons feature a rye content measured in teens, rarely cracking the 20% mark, but New Riff opted for a lofty 30%!

The bourbon’s specifics:
New Riff Single Barrel
Region: Kentucky
Mash Bill: 65% Corn, 30% Rye, and 5% Malted Barley
Strength: 56.2% ABV (112.4° Proof)
Color: Natural Color
Filtration: Non-Chill Filtered
Maturation: Four Years and One Month
Price: $49.99 (Total Wine)

The Good: Smell, taste, and finish all shine in this bourbon. It is astonishing to me that such a young bourbon can exude such well rounded composure. There is a sweet candy sugar nose and a huge punch of rye in the taste. There is not one ‘rough’ or unenjoyable aspect to this bourbon.
The Bad: Okay, this is a stretch, but I’ll go with price. $50 is not abjectly out of place in today’s market and it’s certainly better than the $75 that the McKenzie above commanded, but it does feel just a tad overpriced. On the flipside though, I have enjoyed every pour from this bottle and as such, when this bottle is finished, I will purchase another at this price with absolute certainty.
The Ugly: Because New Riff is a smaller distillery, their distribution reach and volume, particularly outside of Kentucky is quite small which in turn equates to a hard to find bottle locally. Luckily here in Florida, I have seen bottles of their bourbon and rye show up on Total Wine shelves and thus far they tend to stick around rather than be instantly swept away by the bourbon nerds. I have yet to see New Riff in any other store in my area however, be it a chain or a mom-n-pop store.

As I contemplated these two bourbons, a $75 dud and a $50 surprise, flashes of another bourbon that I purchased around the same time kept popping into my thoughts - Wild Turkey 101. Why Wild Turkey 101? Well for two reasons: the insanely low price I paid for a bottle and just how tasty I have always found 101 to be.

First, the Kick’n Chicken’s specifics:
Wild Turkey 101
Region: Kentucky
Mash Bill: 75% Corn, 13% Rye, 12% Malted Barley
Strength: 50.5% ABV (101.0° Proof)
Color: Natural Color
Filtration: Chill Filtered
Maturation: NAS ('up to 6 to 8 years' as shadily proclaimed on the back label)
Price: $13.99 (Publix Supermarkets, sale price)

Ultimately, I poured a half ounce of the two boutique bourbons and tasted blind against a half ounce of the 101. I was able to correctly identify each one, the McKenzie due to its bitter note, the New Riff due to its rye punch and higher proof, and the Wild Turkey by process of elimination (and for being all around pleasing). Rating the three bourbons, I placed the New Riff in the top spot, followed by the Turkey, and sitting a distant third was the McKenzie. Not a terribly shocking ranking given my impressions above, but when you factor cost into the rankings, things become decisively convincing.

I purchased that bottle of Wild Turkey while passing through my local grocery store which had the whiskey marked down to $18.99 / 750ml bottle. If you bought two bottles, you received an additional $10 off the total purchase. That extra discount brought the pre-tax price of each bottle down to $13.99. Think about that, thirteen dollars and ninety nine cents for a 50.5% ABV, 6-8 year old bourbon that stands up to any desired application - neat, over ice, in a cocktail, or even in cola. Most striking however was the fact that such a budget-friendly bourbon that is readily available totally dominated a specialty bourbon that not only cost five times more but required far more hoops to jump through in terms of ordering/shipping. To be fair, it is said that Wild Turkey is capable of producing 9.5 million proof gallons of whiskey each year. Despite not knowing the specific annual output volumes of Finger Lakes or New Riff, I think it safe to speculate that neither come anywhere near Wild Turkey’s production output which in turn means that Wild Turkey has far more margin with which to leverage in offering their bourbons at lower prices.

While I will temper my cost criticism of the Finger Lakes bourbon, I simply cannot ignore the fact that I enjoyed Wild Turkey 101 far more. This collision of a high cost for a less enjoyable whiskey is what left me feeling regret over my purchase of the McKenzie bourbon. In the big picture, it’s not that big a deal. While this experience will serve as a reminder to be a tad more cautious when contemplating the purchase of an unknown whiskey, my positive New Riff experience ensures that I will not totally write off exploring future boutique whiskeys. More importantly however, this experience serves as a great reminder to be thankful for that which I already have. Often times we sadly tend to take for granted the familiar and loved items in our life. Here, in some small way, is a reminder of how foolish that is.

Legent & Friends

Even before I removed the tamper-proof capsule guarding Legent’s cork, I knew this tasting would happen. While Jim Beam only has two bourbon recipes, they do deliver a notable diversity across all their bourbon brands. Even within their low-rye recipe family, Beam achieves enough differentiation to justify three premium brands - Knob Creek, Baker’s, and their flagship Booker’s. The grain, yeast, water, still, distillation proof, barrel characteristics, and barrel-entry proof all remain constant for Beam's bourbons; the diversity comes from subtle variances in the wood staves of the barrels, where those barrels are stored, how long those barrels are stored, and critically, how those barrels are selected and batched into their respective products.

In my previous post, I relayed some of my curiosities regarding Legent’s production - what the proportions of the three whiskies used in Legent were, which Beam bourbon recipe was used, and how old each component was. Ever curious (translation - looking for an excuse to enjoy some bourbon), I decided to see if tasting Legent alongside the Beam bourbons I had on-hand revealed any insight into these mysteries. The tasting pitted a pour of Legent against half-ounce pours of:

• Knob Creek Small Batch (Beam low-rye recipe, non-age stated, 50% ABV)
• Old Grand-Dad Bottled in Bond (Beam high-rye recipe, non-age stated, 50% ABV)
• Booker’s Batch 2018-01 (Beam low-rye recipe, 6 years, 3 months old, 63.7% ABV)
• Baker’s (Beam low-rye recipe, 7 years old, 53.5% ABV)

Right out of the gate, Old Grand-Dad was eliminated from the comparison and pushed into the least-similar spot. If one ever wonders what rye contributes to a bourbon, just enjoy a pour of Knob Creek next to a pour of Old Grand-Dad. The wood/brown-sugar of the Knob Creek is replaced with a grassy spearmint vibe. Granted, some of this difference is due to barrel selection and batching, but with more than double the rye content, Old Grand-Dad radically stands out from its Beam-brethren. When comparing Old Grand-Dad to Legent, I really struggled to find any similarity whatsoever. To my nose and tongue, these two whiskeys aren’t even in the same galaxy.

Booker's was the next to be eliminated. Coming in at 63.7% ABV, it is a proof-bomb that dwarfs not only the Legent, but all the other bourbons on the table. Adding water helps tame the alcohol sledgehammer, but intense wood, resin, and waxy characteristics remain. Of all Beam bourbons, to me, Booker’s has consistently been dominated by that wood/resin/waxy character and this really torpedos the comparison to Legent as none of those characteristics exist in Legent. There is some bourbon commonality, but it is a stretch. As such, Booker's seems more like a distant cousin, than a direct sibling.

That leaves both Knob Creek and Baker's and both share some common characteristics to Legent in regard to smell and taste. On the nose, it's Baker's that comes the closest to Legent, though I find it difficult to quantify just how close the aromas are. Knob Creek’s nose has a wonderful oak meets brown sugar quality that neither Baker's nor Legent share. There is a savory sweetness, rather than a sugary sweetness in both Legent and Baker's that unites the two whiskies.

The similarities flip when it comes to taste, this time it's Knob Creek that is closer to Legent. Baker's retains a savory/herbal sweetness whereas Knob Creek continues its brown sugar/caramel trend which parallels, but does not imitate, Legent's fruity sweetness.

So we have Legent and Baker's being similar on the nose whereas Legent and Knob Creek are similar on the tongue. Of the two, it's the Legent - Baker's smell similarity that is much closer than the Legent - Knob Creek taste similarity. Truth be told, I'm beginning to believe the wine-finished components of Legent had more of an impact on the taste than the smell. Funny, because when I was tasting Legent alone, I was convinced the wine-influence had significantly impacted the whiskey's nose.

Plotting the four contenders, from least-similar to most-similar (from a qualitative, not quantitative perspective), I have: Old Grand-Dad at the far-end of the scale, Booker's about a quarter of the way up from Old Grand-Dad, Knob Creek, and Baker's each falling about three-quarters up the scale with Baker's getting the top-spot by just a hair due to the technicality that its nose is closer to Legent's nose than Knob Creek's taste is to Legent's taste.

My Totally Subjective, Non-Scientific Plot!

I’ve said numerous times before, tasting multiple whiskeys side by side is a valuable, insightful exercise. Legent certainly stands on its own against the other Beam bourbons, but make no mistake, it is different and quite un-bourbon like for most of the experience. I can understand why those that enjoy and seek out a typical bourbon might have a ho-hum reaction towards Legent - the wine influence certainly impacts and transforms the whiskey. This detour however is precisely why I enjoy Legent - it’s a unique experience that starts out bourbon-esque but then begins to gently steer towards a non-bourbon taste and finish. This is the beauty of opinions, they are simultaneously right and wrong depending on perspective; drink what you like, avoid what you don’t, and raise a glass every now and again to whatever it is you hold dear.

Cheers!

Legent

Legent
Classification: Blended American Whiskey
Country: United States of America
Region: Kentucky (Clermont: 37.931N, -85.652W)
Mash Bill: 75% Corn, 13% Rye, 12% Malted Barley
Strength: 47.0% ABV (94.0° Proof)
Color: Natural Color
Filtration: Unknown
Maturation: Unknown age, charred American Oak, red wine and sherry barrels
Price: $34.99 (Total Wine)

tl;dr summary - an intriguing blended whiskey that offers an enjoyable twist on traditional bourbon hallmarks. Bourbon initially on both the nose and tongue with the wine influence rearing its head from the middle of the experience through the conclusion. More prickly and fiery than its proof would have you believe yet requires care when adding water as the whiskey can be easily washed away. Ultimately a fairly priced whiskey that defies the bottom-shelf stereotype of blended American whiskey; worthy of a spot on your shelf.

Generally speaking, blended whiskey, particularly American blended whiskey, has been regarded as a bottom-shelf mixer with a bargain-basement price tag. In its worst implementation, blended American whiskey is nothing more than a dumping ground of youthful bourbon cut with cheaply made and totally unaged neutral grain spirit. There are other implementations however - blended whiskeys that are comprised of well crafted and well aged components, carefully selected to compliment one another, whose goal is to produce a result that is greater than the sum of its parts.

The truth is, while I very much enjoy straight bourbon, straight bourbon has a new charred oak requirement that really is a sledgehammer of influence. As such, though there is variance in smell and taste across the spectrum of bourbon producers, that variance is much smaller than if a variety of barrels were permitted in bourbon’s production. This is where blended American whiskey comes in. Happily, a side effect of the recent boom in premium American whiskey has spurred producers to explore premium blends which in turn has begun reversing blended whiskey’s rotgut stereotype. Free to use any variation of maturation barrels available, quality American blended whiskeys significantly enhance the quantity and variety of compelling whiskey offerings produced in this country.

As stated in the earlier teaser post, Legent is a blend of three whiskeys: Jim Beam Bourbon, Jim Beam Bourbon finished in ex-sherry barrels, Jim Beam Bourbon finished in ex-red wine barrels. Disappointingly, I have more questions than answers regarding the specifics of this blend’s provenance and have yet to come across any official specifications regarding the minutiae of the blend. Are there equal parts of all three components?, Does one component occupy the majority of the blend relegating the other two to the minority? What about the individual components themselves, how old is each one? How long does the bourbon rest in the respective wine barrels? What about the bourbon itself? Jim Beam has two bourbon recipes, a high-rye (27% rye, used for their Old Grand-Dad bourbons) and a low-rye (13% rye, used for all other Beam bourbons) each made with the same yeast strain. Does Legent use the same bourbon recipe for each component or a combination of the two?

Offering my opinion and speculative guesses, I’m betting that Legent exclusively uses Beam’s low-rye recipe bourbon. As for age, I’d place the general age of each bourbon on the younger side, but not to an extreme degree, perhaps 5 to 8 years old. Further, I’d say the sherry and wine-finished components do not spend much time at all in their respective wine barrels; less than a year I’d wager, perhaps being as brief as 2-3 months. Legally Beam is allowed to artificially color this whiskey as it is a blend, but I think it safe to say Beam has done no such thing, that beautiful reddish-mahogany color is all natural baby! As for chill-filtration, Beam does chill-filter a number of their offerings yet I have no reasonable yes or no guess if Legent was chill-filtered. My personal hope is that Beam did not chill-filter this whiskey as I think the chill-filtering process would strip some of the wine-barrel nuances and lessen the overall experience.

UPDATE - I drafted my guesses above a little over a week ago and between then and now, I came across this article which addresses some of the items I was curious about:

Legent showcases its Bluegrass State roots from grain to barrel, using a five year old bourbon distilled by Jim Beam with its standard mashbill as the core component. Two finished whiskeys are incorporated—a sherry cask-finished bourbon with an extra two years of maturation, and a California red wine cask-finished bourbon with one extra year of maturation. The three pieces are married together in a tank for a month, and while exact proportions of the final blend aren't disclosed, the base bourbon is the largest player, followed by the wine cask and then the sherry cask.

https://www.foodandwine.com/cocktails-spirits/legent-bourbon-beam-suntory-review

I will add a cautionary asterisk to this information as it does not come directly from the producer, but all the details seem quite reasonable. My guess as to the base age of the bourbon was in the ballpark, but I whiffed on the durations of the respective wine finishings; two years in sherry and yet, I did not detect the sherry influence all that much (though it is the smallest component of the blend). Also, very interesting the biggest component of the blend is the straight bourbon.

Impressions
Thus far, I’ve had four separate pours of Legent. The notes below are a conglomeration of the notes I took during each of the four tastings. During my first pour, I kept adding water to tame the fiery alcohol and ultimately added too much water, effectively washing the whiskey away.

Nose
Classic bourbon at first - brown sugar, corn sweetness, and yes, the wine influence does emerge shortly after the initial sniff. Absent from the nose is oak and char. Despite knowing there are sherry barrels and red wine barrels involved, this does not smell like a sherry influenced whiskey to me. In fact, this smells of a port finished whiskey. Very interesting!

Adding too much water killed a lot of the bourbon and wine smell. Bummer, lesson-learned for future pours, be stingy with the water. There is an almond paste / marzipan smell after excessive water. This is surreal, it is not just a muted version of the water-free whiskey but an entirely different whiskey.

Taste
Upon arrival, just like on the nose, it’s bourbon on the tongue. The second thing I notice is a medium to medium-strong alcohol punch; a fiery, prickly alcohol at that. Far more of an alcohol punch than the nose would have you expect. Bourbon remains throughout the first half of the sip, but the wine influence emerges during the second-half and takes over from there.

The initial bourbon has a bit of waxy wood that reminds me of Booker’s. Every now and again, I get a flash of that classic peanut taste that Jim Beam bourbons are known for. It’s not consistent nor anywhere near as prevalent as found in Beam’s straight bourbons, but it is there.

When the wine influence pops up, it also raises the sweetness level of the sip. The wine-influenced portion of the sip is much sweeter than the bourbon-influenced portion of the sip. This sweetness is not that classic brown sugar sweetness of the bourbon, rather it is a red fruit/grape sweetness.

Water has opened up more of that grape and wine taste. Just like on the nose however, I get much more of a port finish than a sherry influence; this so reminds me of the finish I get from Glenmorangie’s Quinta Ruban port-finish. The water has reduced the waxy-wood notes. Still a bit more alcohol burn than I would expect, I am still a tad surprised by this.

Finish
Medium length. Cinnamon is prevalent, specifically cinnamon candy (think Atomic Fireball). A pleasant red-fruit sweetness lingers as well with everything culminating in a black tea note. The finish is slightly drying, but not to an excessive degree, think ~25% as drying as how an Earl Grey tea finishes.

Overall
Fascinating to learn that five year old Beam bourbon constitutes the largest component in this blend. In my opinion, that certainly explains the excessive alcohol punch/prickle, relative to its bottling proof, that I experienced. A splash of water went a long way to mitigate the youthful alcohol, just splash conservatively as this whiskey can wash out quickly. While Legent did not displace Maker’s 46 as my favorite finished/blended bourbon, it's easily on my 'recommend' list. Truth be told, I’ve paid much more for worse whiskeys in the past. At $34.99, I foresee Legent staying on my shelf to be a weeknight pour as well as sharing with friends during a tasting to highlight just what blending and different woods can do to a whiskey.

I have one more Legent-centric post in the works, stay tuned for Legent & Friends.

October's Whiskey

One of the whiskies that I will be spending a lot of time with in October is Legent - a new(ish) offering from distilling giant Beam Suntory. Officially declared as a joint effort between the two respective companies, Legent is comprised of three different components:

1. A non-age stated Kentucky Straight Bourbon
2. A non-age stated Kentucky Straight Bourbon finished in ex-sherry barrels
3. A non-age stated Kentucky Straight Bourbon finished in ex-red wine barrels (the specific variant of wine is not disclosed)

The ingredient list above makes it pretty clear that Beam's contribution to the whiskey is the Kentucky Straight Bourbon. Suntory's contribution comes in selecting the sherry and wine barrels as well as blending the three whiskies into the final product. Officially marketed as a coming-together of Jim Beam's legendary master distiller Fred Noe and Suntory's legendary chief blender Shinji Fukuyo, Legent on paper is an intriguing whiskey to me; intriguing enough to take the $34.99 plunge to see firsthand how this Kentucky-Japan mingling turns out.

I am not 100% if I will have one large post or several smaller posts containing thoughts, impressions, and opinions regarding Legent, but I do know October is the month that I will be discussing this blended American whiskey.

More to come.

A New Balvenie

Balvenie The Sweet Toast of American Oak
Classification: Single Malt Scotch Whisky
Country: Scotland
Region: Speyside (Dufftown: 57.459N, -3.128W)
Mash Bill: 100% Malted Barley
Strength: 43.0% ABV (86.0° Proof)
Color: Unknown
Filtration: Unknown
Maturation: 12 Years in ex-bourbon, 8-12 weeks in new American Oak
Price: $64.99 (Total Wine)

I've been told through the years that I tend to be overly verbose when discussing things that interest me. Keeping this in mind, I decided to lead off with a tl;dr summary for those that may not be interested in reading the entire post, so without further ado:

tl;dr summary - an enjoyable single malt with a terrific nose, pleasing taste, weak finish and mysterious production characteristics. Ultimately this malt is betrayed by its disproportionately high price. Personally, I'll pass on purchasing future bottles unless pricing comes down into the $50 - $60 range.

Overview

Balvenie’s new series of whiskies, officially called ‘The Stories Series’ has begun hitting store shelves in my neck of the woods. Comprised of three ‘stories’, each is told through a unique single malt expression (and corresponding marketing campaign) from the fabled Speyside distillery in Dufftown. The stories are, in numerical order, ‘The Sweet Toast of American Oak’ (12 years old), ‘The Week of Peat’ (14 years old), and ‘A Dark Day of Barley’ (26 years old). Today I’ll be focusing on the first story - The Sweet Toast of American Oak, but I have little doubt that story #2, The Week of Peat, which must be a re-labeling of Balvenie’s annual Peat Week release, will be getting some screen-time on this blog in the coming months. As for the third story - A Dark Day of Barley - being a 26 year old single malt, one would expect a hefty price tag and Balvenie did not disappoint with an MSRP of $799. I had the rather surreal experience of encountering a bottle of this super-pricey malt while popping into what can only be described as a ‘humble’ strip mall bottle shop, the type of place one would expect to find plenty of Fireball but not uber-premium limited releases. To the shop’s credit, they were charging MSRP with no added kickers, but alas, despite the Indiana Jones encountering the Golden Idol awe I felt holding the bottle, I could not bring myself to spend that much coin on a bottle of hooch. I bet it’s tasty stuff though…

Balvenie's stated goal and purpose of the Sweet Toast of American Oak was to produce a sweeter, fruiter Balvenie by utilizing new oak that had been deeply toasted before charring, the theory being to maximize the exposed wood sugar available to the malt during maturation. Balvenie sourced these new American White Oak barrels from the Kelvin Cooperage in Kentucky. The coopers at Kelvin first toasted each barrel over a white oak fire (not a gas-fueled burner) before charring the barrel and shipping to Balvenie. Once at Balvenie, the coopers at the distillery re-toast the barrels:

Once the barrels safely arrive on Scottish soil, the pre-toasted casks are given an extra deep toast in The Balvenie Cooperage to drive the heat further into the wood and bring out as much flavour as possible. As Head Cooper, Ian McDonald asserts: “We’re adding extra life and flavour into the wood. After it’s spent 6 weeks in transit from Kentucky to Dufftown, our signature Balvenie burn refreshes the wood, bringing out all the flavour, colour, vanilla.”

This second toasting of an already toasted and charred barrel seems curious to me, I would love to know more granular detail in regard to why this was done. My cynical side wonders if the barrels were shipped from Kentucky intact or as palletized loose staves. If shipped as loose staves rather than fully-assembled barrels, perhaps this second toasting in Scotland is to ensure barrel integrity and consistency mitigating any structural issues resulting from reassembly of the barrel in Scotland. My non-cynical side wonders if this second toasting in Scotland was done purely to improve the overall influence of the barrel on the malt; if so, I am genuinely interested in the science behind this second toasting's improvement on the barrel.

Regardless, once the second toasting is complete, 12-year old Balvenie that had been aging in ex-bourbon casks is re-barreled in these new toasted-charred-toasted barrels and left to sit for eight to twelve weeks. After that, the malt is dumped, proofed down to 43% ABV and bottled. Far beyond wondering what the reasoning behind that second toasting of the barrel is, my two biggest questions regarding this malt are is it chill-filtered and is it artificially colored. There is no official word from Balvenie in regard to either of these questions and I'm left again with cynical and non-cynical thoughts. Cynically, I would not be surprised if the answer was ‘yes’ to both. Historically Balvenie has both colored and chill-filtered their non-single cask and lower-tier offerings. If that precedent remains true with this offering, I find it quite perplexing, particularly in regard to chill-filtration as doing so seems counterproductive. If one of the goals of this new malt is to extract as much wood sweetness and character as possible, then why chill-filter the malt which will in all likelihood remove some of that wood influence? Non-cynically, I can either give Balvenie the benefit of doubt or choose not to fixate on the label's ambiguous disclosures in these two areas. I'll tip my hand on where my feelings fall on these two questions in my impressions below, let’s get into the dram.

Nose
Malty sweetness, fruit sweetness, particularly peach, lots of peach for me. Minimal alcohol. Gentle oak. This is clearly a malt whisky on the nose, but there are subtle bourbon notes as well, particularly that charred/fired wood smell prevalent in so many bourbons. A funny aside, when I first removed the protective capsule covering the bottle's topper, the smell of the wood used atop the cork immediately reminded me of how my childhood Lincoln Logs used to smell. Sadly the cork's wooden topper now has no distinctive smell, so it was a one-time shot of nostalgia.

Taste
Totally different than the nose. Spicy and more oak than the nose indicates. Spice eventually fades to a mild sweetness with that peach note reappearing and concludes by fading into oak.

Finish
Short to medium-short. Oak, spice, and fruit sweetness.

Overall
Very interesting how the nose screams one impression while the taste delivers a very different impression. Lots of fruit and gentle oak on the nose, a beautiful smell wafting from the glass. Spice and oak dominate the taste up front but eventually yield to the fruit sweetness. Incredibly, there is zero wood resin / astringency in this malt. When I first heard about 12-year old Balvenie being transferred to new American oak for an additional three months, I was immediately concerned. The power of new oak cannot be understated and with great power comes great responsibility - new oak will push whiskey to either dizzying highs or terrifying lows. One of the potential lows is an overpowering wood resign, a somewhat bitter, waxy vibe that dominates the flavor. It seems to me that Balvenie’s chosen cooperage not only ensured the new barrels were seasoned properly, but toasted to just the right degree to strike a balance between char and caramelized goodness. There is near-zero alcohol prickle which again makes one think this was a well produced and well cared for whisky throughout its distillation and maturation.

On the negative side, this is not an overly nuanced or complex whisky. Enjoyable yes, but not a layered experience yielding an array of evolving flavors and aromas. The two weakest aspects of this malt for me however are the finish and the price. The finish is woefully short and leaves you wishing for more, particularly after that delightful nose. Indeed, the experience peaks at the beginning with the nosing and goes downhill from there for me: nose < taste < finish. Second, the price. I paid $64.99 for this bottle but feel it would be more realistically priced in the $50-$55 range which would also make the bottle more comparatively priced to its fellow 12-year old shelf mates. Shockingly, on a recent visit to the Total Wine where I purchased my bottle, I noticed they had raised the price of this malt to $72.99 which even further bolsters this criticism. Curiously, Balvenie's own 12 year Single Barrel First Fill expression retails for the same price yet comes bottled at a beefy 47.8% ABV and is non-chill filtered to boot (proudly proclaimed on the bottle's label)!

At the $70+ price-point there are many other compelling offerings such as Macallan's various 10-12 year variants, Glenmorangie's Nectar D'or, or Bunnahabhain's 12 year. Of course there is a Balvenie tax to account for, but even so, in this instance, the Balvenie tax is greater than the Macallan tax which is astonishing and reeks of bad value for my personal money. This brings me back to my feelings on the ambiguity of whether this malt has been artificially colored and/or chill-filtered. In my opinion, any malt commanding a $70+ price-point should be presented free of artificial color and non-chill filtered. Optionally, but ideally, a malt at this price-point should also be offered at a higher bottling strength, say 45%+ ABV, as well as contain an age statement, however I typically offer leniency over the absence of either so long as the malt in the bottle is particularly enjoyable.

If interested, Balvenie's official product page for The Sweet Toast of American Oak:
https://us.thebalvenie.com/stories/the-sweet-toast-of-american-oak