The Cask: Final

It was a good run, but the small little barrel has just sung its swan song. Almost 3 years ago, I began this very blog using my experiences with this small Copper Fox distillery cask as a flagship topic, if you will. In 2009, at-home aging was a topic scarcely written about online, and having valued unorthodox topics as a cornerstone for this site as I still do today, I took the cask project as a fitting starting line. Here in 2012, aging liquor at home is now a bit more popular online, though most of it concerns aging pre-mixed cocktails, not raw spirits, as I've mostly done. I chose this cocktail aging fad as my barrel's final batch.

Why final? Well look at the thing! Image quality aside, here is its before and after below.


Spilling and seepage have weathered it into a gnarly sticky mass. Over a half dozen batches of liquid have been aged in this vessel, a number that I feel is much above the average commercial spirit barrel's lifespan. I have no qualms with retiring this cask and purchasing another, should I feel the need to continue aging. (And I do!)

Scarcely 45 days ago I decided that the barrel was ready to work again, having rested from its last ghastly voyage. If you'll recall, I brashly tried to age a light fruity Sauvignon Blanc in it. After aging it much too long (if it could have been aged well at all), my resulting product resembled a vinegary vermouth more than a table wine. Apologetic to the cask, I left it in open air to fully dry. A month after that, I gave it a few flushes of nice hot water in order to extract any sour flavors before we continued.

And now we continue. Into the barrel's final gulp was, technically speaking, a variation of an Improved Scotch Cocktail, a glass of which would have been composed of a few fingers of Scotch whisky, a heavy dash of sugar syrup, a heavy dash of absinthe, a heavy dash of Maraschino liqueur, and a heavy dash of bitters.

A few notes on the ingredients. I had originally planned to use a young (and cheap) single malt Scotch, but was persuaded against it. I ended up using Johnny Walker Red Label, since popular consensus is that its age is somewhere near 8 years. Since the small barrel ages contents so quickly, I decided to let the input whisky err on the younger side.

I opted for a new American Maraschino liqueur: Leopold Bros. It's one of their newer products and is absolutely wonderful. As someone who finds the traditional Luxardo a bit overpowering, Leopold's restraint is very welcome. Go buy some now.

Instead of using aromatic bitters which is traditional for the Improved Cocktail, I used my own homemade coffee bitters, which I always felt went well with Scotch.

And now, a note on sugar. Most of the cocktails that you've probably seen aged in barrels are along the lines of Manhattans and Negronis. While there's a bit of sugar in each of those, I wasn't sure I had heard of any aged cocktails that contained simple syrup, or even a heavy liqueur for that matter, and I wondered if there was a good reason as to why not. My cocktail mix ended up being only about 1/15th sugar, and since I knew this was my barrel's last hurrah, I went for it.

In the end, the sugar wasn't a problem. I let the mix sit in the barrel about a month and a half, just to get a bit of age on the ingredients, namely the whisky.

My biggest surprise in the end was how bitter the mixture became. The aging seemed to magnify the bitters' bitterness several times over. In order to calm it back down, I actually doctored the final aged mix with an additional bit of each of the cocktail's other ingredients except the bitters. The final concoction is a bit more bitter than I'd like, but I don't want to tinker with it any more in fear of upsetting its already endangered balance.

The coffee and vanilla in the bitters bring out a bit of chocolate from the whiskey. The liqueur and the syrup offer just a bit of sweetness to counteract the formidable bitterness here. Like it normally does in the Improved Cocktail, the absinthe provides a bright and aromatic highlight to the mix, which definitely needs it in this case. And luckily for me, the barely detectable white wine tones from the barrel's last batch adds sweetness to this one, if anything. But to be quite honest, I'm not sure the cocktail is better now than before it went into the barrel, though I'm definitely enjoying trying to understand its transformation. This has been a success.

And so, this barrel is done aging things. I'm not done with it completely, however, and if you're wondering what I mean, you'll have to wait and see.

As I end my home-aging journey, a friend of mine starts hers. She is Courtney Randall of Cocktail Quest. Her interests lie in aging cocktails, not spirits alone, though she realizes that it's a smart move to soften the barrel's charred innards first by aging a spirit before subtler cocktails are poured in. In a move after my heart, she chose Wray & Nephew's White Overproof Rum.

Courtney managed to articulate one of my favorite things about aging at home, something I've thought about for years but never was able to say it so well, so I will provide her words here (mangled by myself):

"With a newly empty barrel [after aging the rum], surely it was time to batch up two liters of cocktail. But... I started to reconsider. Perhaps one more spirit round wouldn't be a bad idea; two unique barrel-aged spirits must be better than one.

You see, when a spirit is placed in a barrel, a certain amount will disappear. But it doesn't just evaporate. The wood soaks some of it up like a sponge, and the barrel is forever changed. Whatever goes in next will be affected. For example, if you barrel age a white whiskey, and then fill the barrel with gin, some of the barrel-aged whiskey flavors will be incorporated into the gin's flavor profile. But the barrel's flavor is not constant. Each time you change the contents, the barrel will take on the new flavors and yet lose some of its own."

Well put, Courtney!

If you've enjoyed reading about my hijinks with aging at home, do yourself a favor and follow hers in suit.

As I said, while my barrel is done aging contents, I'm not fully done with it just yet. Stay tuned for further hijinks, and thanks to all you readers.

Rule: Mixology as Alchemy

I know the post title is really lame and trite, but stay with me here...

The mixing of different ingredients into various combinations can invoke very distinct results.

Some spirit-forward recipes like the Old Fashioned or the (modern) Martini are meant for certain ingredients to "sing the lead" in a mixture, and they use smaller amounts of other ingredients in order to accent the lead singer.

Other recipes, I would argue, work correctly simply because they have some combination of ingredients that taste really good together. Examples I can think of are the Gimlet, the Mojito, the Margarita, or the Tom Collins.

Some recipes are based off of contrast. A good example I know of is the Oriental cocktail, where all of its ingredients battle over your taste buds' attention.

But once in a while you'll find a recipe that, without getting too poetic, borders on alchemy. I'm talking about a recipe where the product is truly greater than the sum of its parts. Recipes like these are often a big surprise because they're so unpredictable.

A prime example of this is an original recipe from Dave of the Sugar House Blog. His cocktail, the Crimson Dynamo, uses ingredients that I don't really like, but the resulting drink is something I find fairly palatable. (It's a faux pas to be a booze blogger and admit that you don't like a certain ingredient. But with me, it's usually a temporary state. You could say that these are ingredients I don't like yet.)

Campari is an herbal Italian liqueur called an amaro. Don't let its gorgeous red color and the word "liqueur" fool you... its bitterness is so overwhelming that most novices who drink it will grimace before spitting it out. It goes toe-to-toe with Fernet Branca as one of the most bitter brews on the liquor store shelf you can find. I don't dislike the stuff per se... I can even drink it alone on ice without a problem, but I'm just not in love with it. I find that most cocktails containing it aren't balanced, and they leave the Campari unchecked to bully around the other ingredients.

Maraschino(the "ch" is pronounced like a "k") is another Italian ingredient made from the cherries of the Marasca type. Completely unlike what most people in the western hemisphere may think is Maraschino, this stuff is completely clear and has a biting cherry character. The flavor is closer to cough syrup than anything a beginner might be expecting. It's a common ingredient used in vintage cocktails, and even in a few tiki drinks. I personally think that almost any drink that uses more than 1/4 ounce of the stuff is completely dominated by it, and in a way that's not pleasant.

Islay is a type of Single Malt Scotch Whisky which is produced on the isle of Islay. Islay whiskies are generally known to be heavily peated, which is a process by which the distiller dries the fermentation's source of malted barely under a fire of burning peat. While the distilled spirit is aging in barrels later on, master blenders of Islay whisky are also known to leave the warehouse doors open to encourage the nearby ocean air to mingle around the barrels, which are surprisingly permeable. The result of all this is a whisky that is earthy, pungent, smokey, medicinal, and sometimes even tastes of iodine and seaweed. The stuff is so strong that Robert Hess uses it as if it were bitters. I love Scotch, but I don't even like Islay Scotch.

Imagine my intrigue when I saw Dave post a drink that uses only these three ingredients, and what's even better, he declares it as "everything [he] want[s] out of life." I smartly assumed that Dave is a man more sage than I, and so, hands quivering, I gave the drink a whirl.

---

Crimson Dynamo

1.5 oz Islay Single Malt Scotch
1 oz Campari
.5 oz Maraschino liqueur

Stir ingredients together with ice, and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with an orange twist.


The Islay base of this drink still makes it pretty challenging for me. Both the overwhelming flavor and aroma is of pungent iodine. But the sip is much less diabolical overall than I had expected. Amazingly, each of the three strong ingredients manage to keep each other in check. The whisky is by far the most wiley, but much of its flavor disappears in the drink, with only the occasional smokiness and medicinal iodine coming through to numb my tongue. The whisky and Maraschino manage to pummel the Campari's flavor mostly into submission, so that in the end it only offers bitterness and a peppery spiciness. The Maraschino comes all the way through, but is largely subdued by the other two gargantuan ingredients, and it provides the sweetness underlying the cocktail. Instead of these ingredients joining together in some awful cacophony, they join together in a harmony of temperance, and I am in awe.

Over the few years that I've been exploring spirits and cocktails, I've slowly and surely come upon an uncomfortable truth that I can't help but humbly accept. The DJ's 2nd rule of the house: You cannot always know how a recipe will taste by simply looking at the ingredients, despite how experienced you may be.

Wasmund's Single Malt Review

The above picture isn't a publicity shot... it's a picture that my friend took behind Wasmund's distillery, where they have a small table and chairs
set next to the local stream.

If you're tired about hearing me talk about Wasmund's Whisky, great! Because that means you've been reading my blog. This will be one of my final posts concerning their products. There are just too many things to say about them. But today, at least momentarily, I will be shedding my fanboyism and will try to soberly review one of their products.


The Whisky
Wasmund's Single Malt

Wasmund's Single Malt is the only whiskey in the United States that is malted and distilled under the same roof. The enterprise rests on the foothills of Appalachia in a small town called Sperryville in the Commonwealth of Virginia. The small distillery is run by a half dozen people, most of whom are family. They take local barley, malt it with local water, smoke-dry it with local fruitwood, mash it with more local water, distill it, age it in local barrels, and bottle-proof it with more local water. The whisky itself is usually less than a year old in age; the small barrels and fruitwood chips present in each barrel accelerate the maturation. The final product is a unique whiskey and does a fine job of turning professional heads. I'm sorry for the inconsistencies in spelling "whiskey". Rick Wasmund, classically trained in Scotland, insists the absence of the "e" when referring to his specific whisky. Thus, I will attempt to walk this tight rope.

In the Glass

Wasmund's whisky is of a color much more dark and red than your average whiskey, or even single malt. It's like some old Scot poured a glass from his favorite bottle and threw in a dash of coffee and red wine. It swirls readily and its legs are minimal; this is just too young of a whiskey to wow you with texture.

Smell

The first thing you notice is smoke, but instead of a slight peat smoke like that of Scotch, you get an assault of wood smoke on the nose, like walking into a restaurant that sells BBQ, or Wasmund's own distillery, for that matter. Continuing on, there's a warm presence of dried leaves, and an earthiness so earthy that it borders on dirt (in a good way). A long sniff reveals foundations of subdued malt/barley and dried apples(probably because of the applewood used to smoke the malt). Lastly, you finish with the hard-to-describe smell of fresh running water, often found near a stream or in a wet cave.

Taste

Much like your nose, your tongue will be overwhelmed with smoke. But this time you'll be able to discern the flavor of dried cherries in it(because the malt is also dried with cherrywood). Again, you'll notice flavors of dried leaves as well, which is my personal favorite. You'll taste more earthiness in a slight flavor of moss. Lastly, you'll find the maltiness, and finish with a sweetness that's not unlike the taste of marshmallows.

Conclusion

Wasmund's Single Malt is unlike any other whiskey, stylistically. Its sometimes-rough and thin mouth feel will confuse you when the incredibly complex flavors and aromas hit you, perhaps to its detriment. This is neither a whiskey with which to become inebriated nor something to hold in your hand as you socialize with friends or family at some party; it's to be drunk alone, in the quiet, in contemplation and concentration, where all of its flavors can be noticed and recognized. Drinking Wasmund's is like cracking open a textbook and learning something, then having your opinions challenged and again reinforced... it's a didactic and introspective experience. Although I have to say, making Wasmund's Old Fashioned doesn't hurt the whisky's character. At a price cheaper than most Scottish 12-year Single Malts, Wasmund's Single Malt is invaluable as a conversation piece and a study of spirits in general, and a bold statement on what an American single malt can be. Word has it that Wasmund's products are available in most of the eastern Midwest and mid-Atlantic East Coast, and their distribution is spreading. If your local store doesn't have it, they can probably order it.

With the review over, I'm going to add a few more points on why I think this product is so important to the culture of spirits today:

1) Innovation. Though Wasmund uses old methods that are tried and true for inspiration, his product mimics nothing. While its geography is American and its style is European, it does not taste remotely like either. Even better, the uniqueness of his product is not a gimmick. Brush your gaze across the vodka shelf in your local liquor store and you'll see plenty of recently-launched and soon-to-be-discontinued brands that were forged completely on a business model powered by brand marketing and not product quality. Wasmund's accolades and admittedly humble popularity come from the fact that he's making a product unlike any other, and a good one at that. In a land where Bacardi and Jim Beam dominate the industry... this is a breath of fresh air.

2) Local economy. I won't harp on this, because I myself tire of hearing it sometimes... Wasmund creates his products using completely local ingredients, which not only guarantees freshness, but displays a preference of quality over price; local ingredients aren't always the cheapest anymore, what with today's age of Walmart-style transportation networks. It also makes sense to help energize the economy around you and not one far away... after all, when everyone around you is living well, you probably will too.

3) Terroir. This is the most important, and a result of reason #2. Terroir is the effect that a landscape has on the taste of a food product. For instance, if a winery in France packed up and moved their personnel, equipment, and grape seeds to California to reestablish their enterprise in exactly the same way... their wine would taste different. Maybe not much, but it would taste different. The difference in soil composition, rainfall amounts, and even the chemistry of the air would impart slight variables that would ultimately change the character of the wine. Many people claim that the water in New York City is what makes the pizza there so delicious... I for one think that claim is a bit exaggerated, but nevertheless, it's still terroir. Wasmund's whisky is packed with terroir. Every single input ingredient in the process is strictly local... and by "local", I mean within about a 50 mile radius, if I'm not mistaken. Even though it might sound crazy, the taste of Wasmund's whisky transports me to the Appalachians in the fall, and I suppose that's no surprise. Their whisky doesn't let you forget where the product was made, and that's something exciting. The 2009 International Review of Spirits commented that Wasmund's "finishes with a very long, slowly evolving, mossy river stone, peat, cocoa, cereal, and pepper fade." So in the end, the word "earthy" manages to describe this products taste, ingredients, and process.

Wasmund's went on in the aforementioned contest to score 93 out of 100 points.

The Cask: Part 2

It's been about 2 months since I've put some of Wasmund's un-aged rye spirit into my little aging cask, which you can read about here.

According to heresay, the whiskey is about halfway done toward being appropriately aged. So of course, I'd like to monitor the spirit's progress. I turned the cask's nozzle to let loose some of the liquor. The color now is that of a gold rum, and perhaps about 2/3 as dark as I expect it will be in the end.



The smell of the spirit so far is still fairly strong... I imagine it's still fairly high above 80 proof, and will even stay so after a few more months; alcohol still wafts boldly from the cup. The aroma is mostly of smokey butterscotch, which is certainly not one that I've smelled on any whiskey before. Near the end, the slightest whiff of traditional rye whiskey comes through, finally.

The sip doesn't burn as much as it did when it was clear in color, about 2 months ago... now it's just warming, like a whiskey should be. My guess is that it's about 100 proof right now. As soon as it hits the tongue, there's a fleeting sweetness. The fullest flavor in the spirit is still that pungent rye which blooms on the tongue, and it's not without a touch of fruitiness, staying long after you swallow. Smoke again fills the throat once it's gone.

This would be quite an interesting spirit, if something like this were sold, but it's still a bit too fiery and bold, not unlike a tequila. I would indeed say that this stuff is halfway aged to something apropos, and perhaps a bit less than halfway toward perfection.... but that's a different post. :)

Cheers.

Appalachian Single Malt at the Copper Fox Distillery

The Copper Fox Distillery is the home of Wasmund's Single Malt Whisky and Wasmund's Rye Whisky. Neighbor to Virginia's stunning Shenandoah National Park, the distillery rests just a dirt back-road or two from the center of Sperryville, a small charming place that looks just like an Appalachian foothill town should. The whole operation is housed by a wooden building that looks more like a barn than a distillery; only a small sign hanging above the large front doors (with miniature caged peeping door) indicates any enterprise.





Wasmund's intoxication begins with the smell as you walk into their distillery. The walls are imbued with fantastic smells of smoke and grain, and the look and feel of Copper Fox's main visitation area approach that of a dimly-lit Scottish tavern, not a place of industry. This, I imagine, is no surprise; the distillery is lead by a man named Rick Wasmund, a distiller who learned his craft in Scotland before returning across the pond to show us what an American single malt whisky can be. Wasmund is a warm and silly young man who is hard-pressed to take anything seriously except for his craft. His distillery tour is a back and forth of expertise and puns, innovation and anecdotes. His malting room sits near a suit of armor dubbed "Sir Malts-a-lot". Above his stored grain hangs a sign remarking the distance to Scotland's Loch Indaal. Wasmund's good humor reflects his dedication to loving what he does.





Wasmund's products are unique. They're not afraid to fly in the face of tradition in order to forge a new identity for American whiskey. Much tradition is still preserved, however, and the resulting balance yields a fascinating product via a fascinating process. Copper Fox is the only American distillery to malt themselves the same barley that they mash and distill. The barley, just like almost every component of Wasmund's, is locally procured. The barley is smoke-dried in the Scottish style, but say good-bye to peat smoke and hello to fruitwood smoke. Wasmund's barley is smoked only with apple wood and cherry wood from a nearby orchard. It is perhaps this step that imparts the most unique character to Wasmund's whisky.





Wasmund's mash is hydrated with water from deep beneath Sperryville. He remarks that the local water is uncharacteristically rich in calcium, imparting a sweet taste, and perfect for his fruity barley. The mash ferments and distills in a room no larger than a generous garage. Next to the stills is Wasmund's quaint proof-testing table, where he monitors and documents the distillate up to barrel proof for aging.





The aging takes place in American Oak barrels, all in small batches. The overall aging time is quite small, and this is because of Wasmund's chip barrels. He partly ages the whiskey with chips of the very same fruitwood used to smoke-dry the barley. The increased surface area of the chips added with the wood of the barrel produce a surprisingly mature spirit in a small amount of time. With that said, Wasmund's Single Malt, whose age is an average of 9 months, is delicious, yet its viscosity and smoothness won't fool you into thinking you're sipping an 18-year whisky. However, with a dash of water, like Rick Wasmund suggests, you'll find a flavor unlike any other.




Copper Fox is the embodiment of a micro-distillery. Every ingredient consumed is local. Age-old craft traditions are given a new twist. The end product is unique, worth a few extra dollars and a few more miles traveled. Wasmund jokes that not everyone should be able to drink his whisky, and he's ok with that. However, Wasmund's Single Malt can be found in a multitude of stores in the mid-Atlantic and midwest, and Copper Fox's arm of distribution is growing ever longer. If you're in Virginia, ask your store clerk if you're able to special order Wasmund's. You'll be glad you did.

The Cask: Part 1

Behold. Wasmund's 2-liter aging barrel: one of the many exciting products being produced at Copper Fox Distillery in Sperryville, Virginia. Copper Fox sells at-home aging barrels of various sizes which tailor to different budgets, time constraints, and expertise.

What you see here is Copper Fox's smallest barrel. An average aging in this bad boy should take about only 4 months, and can be re-used several times (something of which I plan to take full advantage). One need only pour in about 2 bottles of (preferably barrel proof) spirit and let the aging begin.

Incidentally, my tastes mostly lean towards rum, and this barrel has the rum fan inside me going absolutely insane thinking about the possibilities. However, Copper Fox is best known not for their barrels, but for their whisk(e)y (Hereafter "whisky". Copper Fox prefers it). Wasmund's Single Malt Whisky (review coming soon) calls Copper Fox home and, along with their aged single malt and rye products, they also provide unaged whisky for the very purpose of at-home aging. How many (good) unaged whiskies do you know of? Exactly. This opportunity leaves me little choice but to christen my barrel with Wasmund's crystal-clear, overproof, Appalachian spirit.

Another consideration is that many rums are aged in barrels previously used for bourbon, and so, especially taking note of Wasmund's fruitwood smoke-drying process used for their single malt, I believe that it's completely appropriate to warm up the barrel with Wasmund's before the rum joins the party.

---

The Whisky
Wasmund's Rye Spirit, less than 30 days old

This endeavor begins with Wasmund's Rye Spirit, unaged. This product is quite interesting in and of itself. Each rye batch produced is truly a small one, with about only one barrel produced on each run. Their rye spirit mash consists of 2/3 rye straight from a local source, and 1/3 hand-malted barley that's been fruitwood-smoked. This is all offered at 124 proof for your aging convenience. I thought I would taste the spirit before I aged it.

Smell

It's hard to navigate though the evaporated alcohol as you inhale this one. After I began to concentrate, the most noticeable aroma is pungent, full-bodied, and grassy. It's not unpleasant, however. A further effort finally revealed a bit of smoke, as expected.

Taste

Damn, this stuff is strong. Ok... the smoke comes through much more here, which is quite nice. The sips are dry and short, no aftertaste. Finally come the first hints of rye, a bit spicy and warming. A few sips later, I begin to taste the malt. Even unaged, this is much more interesting than I anticipated. But really, this stuff needs some ice.

Ice cube:

Just a wee bit of ice and its character changes ever so slightly. Much more of the spiciness rises up and lasts longer. I even taste some floral hints as I breathe out. And finally, about a minute after each sip, I can taste apples, likely from the apple wood used to smoke the malted portion of spirit's source barley.

Conclusion:

A ridiculously interesting spirit for something so young. I can see why Copper Fox claims that many customers enjoy replacing various spirits in classic cocktails with this stuff, something I also plan to try. The spiciness and grassy character of this spirit beg to be played with. The only hurdle I can foresee is the proof, but if you're like me, you just don't care.

---

The Aging Begins

The spirit is poured and now time is my friend. I will drop quick samples of my aging product about every two weeks, and will post about any tastings of note or process revelations.




Questions and comments about my endeavor are welcome. Aloha.