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ultraozzie3000 · 2 years
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Going With the Flow
Going With the Flow
“We had the horse and buggy. We had the automobile. Now we have the first real motor car in history.” — Walter P. Chrysler. Classic motorcar collector and aficionado Jay Leno has more than 180 vehicles in his collection, but a pride and joy is a 1934 Chrysler Airflow Imperial CX—one of the only three surviving CXs today. Dec. 16, 1933 cover by Rea Irvin. The 1934 Chrysler Airflow was a car of the…
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goshyesvintageads · 2 years
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Schenley Distillers Corp, 1942
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delfinamaggiousa · 4 years
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Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon Was Born in Japan
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“An aroma that is a full rounded bouquet of caramel, vanillin, and alcohol that is pleasant and not raw or medicinal. Taste is slight caramel and vanillin semisweet alcohol that is smooth and pleasant, without bite or bitter taste. There is no lingering after-taste or burning sensation.”
This is how Master Distiller Emeritus Elmer T. Lee described the desired, if general flavor profile for Blanton’s Single Barrel bourbon, which debuted in 1984. But it wasn’t meant for you — or any American drinker, for that matter. Instead, it was a product of savvy American marketing efforts to save a sinking bourbon business, and Japanese receptive good taste.
In “Bourbon: The Rise, Fall, and Rebirth of American Whiskey,” author Fred Minnick describes Blanton’s Single Barrel’s 1984 release: “[It] entered the U.S. market for $24, targeting baby-boomer pockets.” But, he continues, “the new bourbon was a domestic flop. In fact, the only thing positive about Blanton’s was its popularity in Japan.”
Yes, hearing that a dram this special, with its caramel, vanilla, semisweet notes, was not intended for the country that invented it is a bit like tearfully thanking coworkers through a mouthful of your “birthday cake,” only to learn it was meant for Jan’s going-away party.
Blanton’s Single Barrel, the idiosyncratic seductress-in-whiskey we’ve finally grown to appreciate here in the U.S., was created by two enterprising liquor executives, Ferdie Falk and Bob Baranaskas. Both perceived 1980s-era America’s lack of taste in good whiskey, and Japan’s seemingly insatiable thirst for the stuff.
Bourbon’s popularity in Japan was no accident. It was created specifically for Japan by aforementioned Ferdie Falk and Bob Baranaskas (with a little help from Elmer T. Lee — but more on that later). The duo had previously worked for Fleischmann’s Distilling, a subsidiary of Nabisco. After some very big companies did some reshuffling amidst the shoulder-padded power lunch that was 1980s corporate America (Fleischmann’s was sold to a company called Grand Metropolitan, which would years later merge with Guinness to form Diageo), Falk and Baranaskas had a decision to make: try their luck in corporate restructuring, or move on. They very wisely, and pivotally for bourbon lovers, chose the latter.
Sticking to spirits, Falk and Baranaskas looked for an outfit to buy. Falk had worked for the famed Lewis Rosenstiel of Schenley Industries and worked out a purchase of one of its distilling operations, putting Falk and Barnaskas at the helm of their very own distillery: Albert B. Blanton’s, or what we know today as Buffalo Trace. Believing “bourbon’s future was outside the U.S.,” Minnick writes, “one of their first moves was the creation of Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon. Done at the behest of their Japanese customers, they released it in the U.S. as well.”
As Tom Acitelli writes in “Whiskey Business,” they created the bourbon with the help of legendary Elmer T. Lee, who explained the lore surrounding Col. Albert B. Blanton, the metal-clad Warehouse H (at the time, an exigency of material and cost, it turned out to encourage interaction between barrel and bourbon, resulting in a richer product). And while the U.S. largely ignored it, Japan “represented 51 percent of bourbon’s exports,” Minnick writes, which “grew 349 percent in the 1980s.”
To be fair, it wasn’t that Americans had bad taste, exactly (although it was questionable in the 1970s). It was that bourbon was, arguably intentionally, losing its quality. For example, in 1973, Four Roses put out an ad celebrating “Whiskey without the Whelm” — as in, “underwhelming” whiskey that was “never overpowering.” This inevitably led to what some might consider two-dimensional, easy-drinking swill.
Part of the reason for that drop in quality was overproduction. Lots of bourbon was being made, quickly and cheaply. This owed at least in part to fears of the Korean War diverting distillery resources (somewhat similar to the way we all buy a lot of booze in advance of a snowstorm — or a pandemic).
Additionally, younger Americans wanted to drink differently than their parents had. That meant more vodka, less bourbon, and, at least for a couple decades, bourbon having to find its footing elsewhere.
As whiskey guru and author Chuck Cowdery tells VinePair: “The sudden Japanese enthusiasm for bourbon is usually explained as a generational thing. The youth of that period were rebelling against their elders, the WWII generation, in multiple, cultural ways, much as had occurred in the U.S. in the 1960s.” Cowdery adds, “Since the older generation drank Scotch or Scotch-like Japanese whiskies, younger drinkers started to seek out bourbon.”
Writing into The New York Times in 1992, the former president of massive liquor group Schenley Industries, William Yuracko, nonetheless called marketing bourbon to the Japanese market “a daunting task,” noting, “we still had to wean the consumer away from his traditional preference for a Scotch-type beverage.” Their strategy: appeal to young people, encourage a generational division of tastes, and build bourbon bars where young drinkers could gather and share, and thus reinforce, their new preferences. (It worked.)
There is some speculation as to why American bourbon took off in Japan. Acitelli writes: “Theories abounded as to why the Japanese loved bourbon. … Some said it was the macho image it conveyed. Others said it was par for the course, given that the nation had long embraced American products.”
And Cowdery believes the Elmer T. Lee aspect of the Blanton’s story to be a bit fanciful: “[T]he crediting of Blanton’s to Lee is, in some ways, mostly marketing,” he says. “Falk and his marketing people told Lee what they wanted and he went into his inventory to find something suitable.” In other words, the lore of the old distiller reaching into bourbon history to revive the brand is nice, but we might owe more to Falk and Baranaskas for asking him to go looking. “Lee probably contributed the idea of making it a single barrel and tying it to the legacy of Albert Blanton, but otherwise it was Falk and his marketing folks, and the marketing folks at [Japanese company Takara Shuzo], who created the brand,” says Cowdery.
Another bit of late-‘80s pomade-induced E.S.P.: In his book, Minnick describes a 1989 interview with Heaven Hill Distillery president Max Shapira. In the interview, Shapira tells Cox News Service, “Bourbon whiskey has become the ‘in’ drink abroad — really throughout the world. The ironic thing is that here in the U.S., it’s just the opposite. Wouldn’t it be great if the foreign demand set a domestic trend?”
Why, yes, Mr. Shapira. Yes it would.
The article Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon Was Born in Japan appeared first on VinePair.
source https://vinepair.com/articles/blantons-single-barrel-bourbon-japan/
source https://vinology1.wordpress.com/2020/06/26/blantons-single-barrel-bourbon-was-born-in-japan/
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abelardo1948 · 4 years
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Colección Miniaturas de Licor 5cl. Whisky / Whiskey OLD STAGG Procedencia : U.S.A. Destilado : Bottled by The  Stagg Distillinng Co. Louisville, Kentucky. Fecha de Elaboración : 1960 Proof : 90 Capacidad: 1/10 Pinta Color : Claro Forma : Flask Tamaño : 10.5 cm. ; 4-1/8" Tipo Whisky : kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey 8 años OLD STAGG Procedencia : U.S.A. Destilado : Bottled by The  Stagg Distillinng Co. Louisville, Kentucky. Fecha de Elaboración : 1960 Proof : 90 Capacidad: 1/10 Pinta Color : Claro Forma : Flask Tamaño : 10.5 cm. ; 4-1/8" Tipo Whisky : kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey  SCHENLEY RESERVE Procedencia : U.S.A. Destilado : Blended and Bottled by Distiller Inc., Schenley, PA & Fresno, California Fecha de Elaboración : 1960 Proof :86 Capacidad: 1/10 Pint Color : Claro Forma : Flask Tamaño : 10,5 cm. ; 4-1/8" Tipo Whisky : Blended Whiskey; 6 años. #whiskey #whisky #schenley #whiskeylovers #whiskeylover #vintagewhiskey #kentuckybourbon #whiskeydrinker #whiskeybar #whiskeytasting #5cl #whiskytasting #whiskeycollection #glenmore #kentucky #kentuckywhiskey #kentuckystraightbourbonwhiskey #minibottle #minibottlecollection #whiskylover #bartender #miniaturasdelicor #liquor #whiskylife #whiskytime #minibebidas50ml https://www.instagram.com/p/B_LEL2IHSXq/?igshid=d1jggnho034l
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letsgohomeky · 4 years
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Stopped by Woodford this morning for one more closing gift and to reserve a tour for guests coming to town next weekend. What a magical place this is! Fun History: Woodford Reserve is a subsidiary of the Brown-Forman brand. Brown-Forman was one of six distillers allowed to sell whiskey during prohibition—alcohol that was only distributed for medicinal purposes.* During this time, no whiskey was actually allowed to be produced. It was simply that the permitted distillers were allowed to distribute the alcohol. In fact, during prohibition the medicinal demand was so high that bourbon supply became low. So in 1929, the US Government allowed the permitted distillers to distill medicinal whiskey for 100 days resulting in over 3 million gallons of whiskey being barreled. *The other permitted distillers: Frankfort Distillery Glenmore American Medical Spirits Schenley Distillery A. Ph. Stitzel Distillery (en Woodford Reserve) https://www.instagram.com/p/B7JaJ0tlyGb/?igshid=1jds7lc4h41nt
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greatdrams · 7 years
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The Lost Distilleries of Scotland
There are currently around 100 active distilleries in Scotland.  In the late 1800s, that number was doubled. So what happened to the other half of that number and where did they all go?
There are many reasons these distilleries could have gone out of business, from the Pattison Crash of 1898, to the closures of both World Wars.  Here we take a closer look at just a fraction of these distilleries, and tell you the story of some of Scotland’s lost distilleries.
  Rosebank
Any malt that remains from Rosebank is widely considered to be one of the best from any of the lost distilleries.  Rosebank was situated in the Lowlands, just beside the Forth and Clyde canal.  According to evidence, this distillery was first opened as long ago as 1798 and was later mothballed in 1993 by owner’s Diageo.  Interestingly, the malt was triple distilled and Rosebank was one of the few distilleries to do this.  It had a pretty strong following, even after it was shut down.  Diageo later renovated the building and turned it into flats.
  Port Ellen
This is one of the most well known lost distilleries and is situated on the famous Whisky island, Islay.  Like Rosebank, it has a long history, having opened in 1825 and only being mothballed in 1983.  Also like Rosebank, this distillery was owned by Diageo, who had to choose between their three Islay babies as to which they would close.  Quite a Sophie’s choice for the drinks giant!  The other options were Lagavulin and CaolIla, two of the most popular on the island.  The choice was clear and Port Ellen got the chop.
  Brora
This is quite a sad tale.  Brora was first opened in 1819 by the Marquess of Stafford and was originally named Clynelish.  It is still situated in the Highlands although it was Mothballed in 1983.  This was largely due to how good it was.  Ironic, I know.  But it was so popular in the 1960s that another distillery was built beside it to pick up the slack.  As they say, all goof things coe to an end, and eventually Whisky consumption ht a slump in the late 17s and early 80s.  Brora, or Clynelish as it was still known, was no longer needed.  The other distillery took over the name Clynelish and so it remains today.  Brora tried as hard as it could but was eventually mothballed and heard of no more.
  Littlemill
Littlemill was found in Bowling, West Dunbartonshire.  This is right on the border between lowlands and highlands, with Littlemill claiming itself as a Lowland resident.  Evidence of Littlemill can be found from as far back as 1772, making it one of the oldest distilleries in Scotland,  Unfortunately that was not enough for Diageo to keep it open and as such it was mothballed in 1994.  Since then it has not faired well, and an accidently fire followed by planned demolition saw the last of Littlemill.
  Dallas Dhu
Although Dallas Dhu, meaning Black Water Valley in Gaelic, no longer produces single malt but is open to the public as a museum.  It is one of the younger lost distilleries on the list, having only opened in 1899.  It was then mothballed in 1983 and five years later in 1988 was re-opened as a museum.  There have been plenty of rumours going round that it was to reopen as a working distillery since most of the machinery is still in working order.  But for now, nothing has been confirmed.
    Glenugie
Once the most easterly of Scottish distilleries, Glenugie was in the Highlands and opened in 1831.  It was originally called Invernettie, but after it was converted back to being a distillery after a short stint as a brewery, took on the name of Glenugie in 1875.  It switched hands many time in its life but seemed to be doing well in the 1950s when production was doubled.  But these good times could not last and Glenugie was mothballed in 1983.  It has since been dismantled.
  Kinclaith
Kinclaith was opened in 1957 as an American venture in Scotland, but did not last long.  Trading for a mere 20, a flash in comparison to most other distilleries, Kinclaith now exists as an extremely rare but supposedly very good single malt.  Unfortunately the death knell rang for Kinclaith when Schenley (its owner) decided that more room was needed for grain production at their Strathclyde distillery.  It was dismantled in 1977.
  Glenlochy
This is one of the many distilleries that was hit badly by the Pattison crash.  It was opened in 1898, the peak of the Pattison’s reign, but when that kingdom came tumbling down, so did Glenlochy.  But it managed to pick itself and continued production again in 1901.  After a few years of being sold between different companies, it landed in the hands of Diageo, or Distillers Company, Ltd. as they were known then.  Diageo kept it going for the next few decades until it was again closed, for the final time in the early 1980s.  in 1986 is was demolished.  Any buildings left standing were later turned into offices and flats.
  Magdalene
St. Magalene was once called Linlithgow, as that was the town it was situated in when it opened in 1795.  There were four other distilleries in this area so there was a bit of competition.  Eventually Linlithgow moved to St. Magdalene in 1834 to be closer to the canal and therefore trade routes.  Like so many before it, this distillery was bought over by Diageo and almost inevitably shut down in 1983.
    Imperial
Despite opening in 1897 and closing in 1998, Imperial only operated for around half of this time.  it was built as a partner distillery to Dailuaine.  Throughout its opening and closing it was passed between many of the big names in the drinks business,, including Diageo, John Walker, John Dewar and eventually PernodRicard.  There were the usual rumours of its reopening, but PernodRicard put an end to those when it announced the distillery had indeed but demolished.
  The post The Lost Distilleries of Scotland appeared first on GreatDrams.
from GreatDrams http://ift.tt/2sgHCX1 Greg
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whiskey-please · 7 years
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I loved seeing all of your favorite whiskies...
For me, as far as everyday drinkers go, it's really hard to beat Old Weller Antique. A great pour at $25-$35. If you can find it... it's not terribly difficult to find in a few pockets around the country. Henry McKenna bonded 10yr is solid as well. Lagavulin 16 is a solid go to Islay for me. For the higher end Old and Rare...Weller 107 Stitzel Weller Distillate is unreal, pre 1976 Old Crow bonded and 86 Proof and Bonded Old Overholt from the 30's-50's. Bonded Schenley Rye from 1976 is out of this world. I just got my hands on Stitzel Weller Pappy Van Winkle 15 and 20 year that I'm dying to crack into.
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conchapman · 5 years
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Me and My Parrot Walk Into a Bar
Me and My Parrot Walk Into a Bar
Lewis Rosensteil, head of Schenley Distillers, once had 5,000 parrots trained to say “Drink Old Quaker” bourbon, then gave them to bartenders.
The Wall Street Journal, review of “Empire: The Past and Future of America’s Whiskey” by Reid Mitenbuler
I believe it was Montaignewho first said, more or less, that no man is a hero to his valet, but the Frenchman never met my parrot “Poll.”  He’s named…
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wineanddinosaur · 4 years
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24 Defining Moments in the History of Bourbon
Bourbon used to be so simple: A humble, economically priced spirit from Kentucky. You could drink it neat, or with ice, maybe even mixed with soda — it needn’t be fetishized. Over two centuries of existence, bourbon had its ups and downs, but it was always reliably there. Often less than 20 bucks a bottle too, whether you favored Jim or Jack or even one of the “Olds” (Crow, Grand-Dad, Weller).
And then the aughts came and bourbon lost its mind.
Distilleries began releasing bourbons that cost hundreds of dollars. Drinkers cleared them from store shelves. Black markets arose to sell those bottles online for even more money.
Suddenly, the only bourbon anyone could find any more were those humble, economically priced Jims and Jacks and Olds that have always been there for us. In bourbon, the more things change, the more they stay the same.
These are the 24 moments that built an industry, helped it survive during troubled times, elevated it into the zeitgeist, and made it what it is today.
1785: Basil Hayden Brings Immigrants to Kentucky
A Catholic living in Maryland, Hayden was tasked with bringing 25 local families to Nelson County, Ky., to help set up a church community. Many of these folks were Scottish, Irish, and English immigrants, and many already had distilling in their blood. Hayden was also a distiller and today two bourbons are named after him, Basil Hayden’s and Old Grand-Dad.
1791: The Whiskey Rebellion Sends More Distillers to the Bluegrass
Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton puts an excise tax on whiskey — the first tax ever imposed on a domestic product by this new American government — to try to pay off the debts of the American Revolution. This angered many farmers in western Appalachia who often distilled their excise grain into whiskey. In turn, many of them moved to the tax-friendly havens of Kentucky and Tennessee.
1790s: Bourbon Accidentally Get Barrel Aged
Kentucky didn’t just have distillers, it also had exceptional Indian maize corn and access to limestone-filtered water. More importantly, it was located on the Ohio River, where barrels of this new-make corn whiskey would be loaded onto flatboats in Lexington and sent down to New Orleans. (Many claim that a Bourbon County pastor and distiller named Elijah Craig was the first to figure out that the cheapest storage method was to clean a fish barrel by burning the inside of it, then add the whiskey to it.) By the time the “bourbon” arrived in port 90 days later, the charred oak barrels had turned the liquid caramel in color, and made it a whole lot tastier.
1818: He Did the Mash, the Sour Mash
Though the inventor of this process is usually credited to Dr. James C. Crow (of Old Crow fame), its usage has been traced back further than that. In the early 19th century, distillers began “souring” their whiskey mash by adding back some of the acidic liquid strained from the previous mash, known as backset. This wouldn’t just inhibit bacterial growth, it would add to the flavor of the final product. Today, almost all bourbon is “sour mash,” with many even stating it on their labels.
1870: Old Forester Is Bottled
A former pharmaceutical salesman, George Garvin Brown, had a stroke of genius when he decided to sell his Old Forester bourbon not from barrels, but from sealed glass bottles instead. It was a savvy move; Old Forester has literally never been out of production since then, even during Prohibition, the longest-running bourbon in the U.S. today.
1897: The Bottled-in-Bond Act
But it wasn’t all high quality — many dubious bottlers and rectifiers would take their whiskey and add everything from prune juice to tobacco spit into their bottles of “bourbon.” Thus, a need for an assurance of quality arose and the legitimate distilleries lobbied congress to pass legislation. To get a “Bottled-in-Bond” designation, whiskeys had to come from one distillation season courtesy of one distiller at one distillery, then get aged in a federally bonded warehouse for at least four years, before being bottled at exactly 100 proof.
1919: Bourbon Finds a Prohibition Loophole
If there were a good two dozen distilleries in Bourbon County at one point, after ratification of the 18th Amendment, ironically, the county would never produce bourbon again. Meanwhile, six major Kentucky distilleries exploited a loophole and began making “medicinal” whiskey — in reality, simply affixing prescription labels to flasks of bourbon. (“Sick” Americans would have to have a doctor claim they were suffering from one of 27 ailments.) By the time the “Noble Experiment” of Prohibition ended in 1933, conglomerates like Schenley, Seagram, and National had acquired many family-run distilleries.
1935: “Pappy” Van Winkle Opens Stitzel-Weller
A traveling liquor salesman starting at age 18, Julian “Pappy” Van Winkle, with a partner, took over W.L. Weller & Sons in 1915 and immediately began producing stellar bourbon in conjunction with A. Ph. Stitzel, even during Prohibition. On Kentucky Derby Day 1935, Van Winkle’s first distillery, Stitzel-Weller, would open, eventually making waves for their uniquely wheated bourbon seen in products like Old Fitzgerald, Cabin Stiller, and Weller. When he died in 1965, who would have ever guessed that one day Pappy would be the household name of 21st-century bourbon?
1947: Frank Sinatra Starts Swigging Jack Daniel’s
Perhaps an apocryphal origin story, Sinatra would claim Jackie Gleason had told him that Tennessee whiskey was a “man’s drink.” He quickly became the brand’s biggest fan, flying a Jack flag at his house in Palm Springs and finishing an entire bottle of Old No. 7 every day, two fingers over three ice cubes in a rocks glass. Many say Sinatra turned this small Tennessee brand into literally the biggest bourbon brand in the world (yes, nerds, Tennessee whiskey is bourbon). In 2013, Jack Daniel’s returned the favor by releasing Sinatra Select, a limited, higher-end bottling.
1954: Jimmy Russell Clocks in at Wild Turkey
Some 66 years ago, on Sept. 10, 1954, a 19-year-old boy raised just six miles from the JTS Brown Distillery in Lawrenceburg, came to his first day of work sweeping floors. He would soon be mentored in the art of making the distillery’s Wild Turkey bourbon by the brand’s second-ever master distiller, as well as Ernest W. Ripy, Jr., the son of the original distillery owners. By the late-1960s Russell had the keys to the castle. As master distiller, the lovable “Bourbon Buddha” traveled the world as an ambassador for bourbon, finally seeing the fruits of his labor in the last couple of decades. Today, at age 86, Russell remains the longest-tenured master distiller in the world, still making some of the finest whiskey around, along with his son and fellow Wild Turkey master distiller, Eddie Russell.
1958: Maker’s Mark Creates the Premium Bourbon Category
Bill Samuels Sr. would famously zig when others were zagging, launching a premium whiskey in classy packaging at a time when people were moving away from bourbon. The gambit would eventually pay off. By the 1980s, the iconic red-waxed, square-shaped bottle was considered the industry’s Rolls Royce among a parking lot of Pintos. Bourbon tourists were visiting the Loretto distillery as early as 1968 and today many credit Samuels and Maker’s Mark with ushering in the current bourbon boom.
1964: Bourbon Becomes a “Distinctive Product”
Worried the rest of the world had eyes on stealing America’s homegrown product, in 1958 the Bourbon Institute was formed with the sole purpose of getting bourbon the same internationally recognized regulatory protections enjoyed by product categories like Cognac and Champagne. Lobbying Congress, on May 4, 1964 bourbon was officially recognized as a “distinctive product of the United States.” Bourbon could now only be produced in America (not just Kentucky as some internet commenters will have you believe), putting an end to Mexican-made bourbon.
1969: White Spirits Emerge, Light Whiskey Is Created, and a Glut Occurs
By the 1960s, white spirits like vodka and gin were taking over the bar scene, delivering a major blow to the bourbon industry. The distilleries came up with a plan to create an entirely new product to compete: Light whiskey, distilled to such a high proof it tasted like vodka. It was an abject disaster. By the early 1980s bourbon sales had plummeted, and plenty of barrels and bottles were sitting around with no one to buy them — a fate that collectors would one day regret as vintage bourbon from this era is now much desired.
1976: Wild Turkey Adds Some Honey
Cringe if you must, but another attempt to fend off white spirits and position bourbon as less of your “old man’s drink” was by adding flavors. Jimmy Russell was the first when he thought to make a liqueur by blending Wild Turkey with pure honey. It was a huge hit, and other bourbon brands would begin offering their own flavored concepts. This would eventually lead to fratty flavored whiskey sensations, such as Fireball and Skrewball Peanut Butter Whiskey.
1984: Single Barrels and Small Batches Arrive (but Only Japan Cares)
Wanting to impress Japanese consumers, the newly formed Ancient Age distillery asked its master distiller Elmer T. Lee to create a truly one-of-a-kind product. He hunted down some primo “honey” barrels from Warehouse H and bottled them as is. Blanton’s would be the world’s first commercial single-barrel bourbon — it was a sensation in Japan, though it would flop domestically. Still, it gave the other bourbon distilleries some new ideas. The year 1988 would bring Jim Beam’s Booker’s, a small-batch, barrel-proof offering. By 1992, the release of Jim Beam’s Knob Creek was starting to woo more and more neophytes into the bourbon world.
1994: Pappy Van Winkle Hit Shelves
In 1972, Pappy’s son, Julian Van Winkle Jr., started the Old Rip Van Winkle brand, selling bourbon he had acquired from Stitzel-Weller after its brands were sold off that same year. By 1981, his son, Julian Van Winkle III, was running operations, eventually selling 12- and 15-year-old Old Rip Van Winkles (bourbons that only existed due to the aforementioned glut). In 1994, he had the gumption to release a then-unheard-of 20-year-old bourbon, which he called Pappy Van Winkle, after his grandfather. It would immediately win acclaim across the country. Pappy Van Winkle 23 Year would come along in 1998, and the 15 Year Old would arrive in 2004.
1999: The Bourbon Trail Is Officially Created
With a renewed interest in bourbon, tourism began to take off and the distilleries wisely moved to capitalize on it, opening gift shops and offering public tours. As the Y2K drew near, the Kentucky Distillers’ Association registered a trademark and launched the official Kentucky Bourbon Trail. Initially, seven of the eight major distilleries were on it, and today eight more craft distilleries like Wilderness Trail are also included. The Bourbon Trail is said to have brought Kentucky 2.5 million tourists over the last five years.
2002: Four Roses Starts Selling Bourbon Again
A once venerable brand, in 1967 Seagram’s turned Four Roses into a blended whiskey, cutting it with grain neutral spirit and flavoring. And, yet, in Japan, it was still sold as a straight bourbon and was a huge hit. When Jim Rutledge took over as master distiller in 1995, he began lobbying his bosses to let Four Roses return to its former glory stateside. He finally got his wish when Japanese company Kirin bought the brand in 2002. The straight bourbon would indeed return to America, and by 2004 Four Roses was even selling single-barrel bottlings, offering drinkers a chance to try one of 10 mashbill-yeast recipes the distillery offers (something wholly unique in the industry).
2006: Willett Offers Single Barrels
Everything changed at Kentucky Bourbon Distillers when owner Even Kulsveen’s son Drew joined the family business in 2003. Almost immediately, he began taking the company’s incredible stock (more glut bourbon sourced from places like Bernheim, Heaven Hill, and even Stitzel-Weller), and releasing it as cask-strength, non-chill-filtered single barrels. Such well-aged and high-proof bourbons and ryes were almost unheard of at the time, and bottlings like Red Hook Rye and Doug’s Green Ink would soon become some of the most coveted American whiskeys of all time. Even today, Willett inspires a fanaticism among the cognoscenti matched by no other brand, not even Pappy.
2007: Parker’s Heritage and Other “LEs” Arrive
Buffalo Trace already had its limited releases like Van Winkles and its vaunted Buffalo Trace Antique Collection, and other distilleries would soon throw their own hats into the rarity ring. This Heaven Hill yearly limited edition release (or “LE” in collector parlance) would be one of the first to make its mark, named after the distillery’s beloved (and now-late) master distiller Parker Beam.
2007: Non-Kentucky Bourbons Appear
Lest we forget, Kentucky isn’t the only state legally allowed to make bourbon. And, as craft whiskey began ramping up in America in the mid-aughts, other states started taking a stab at it. One of the first was New York’s Hudson Baby Bourbon, produced by Tuthilltown Spirits in the Hudson Valley. Today, just about every state produces a bourbon or two, though, if you talk to a Kentuckian, they’ll tell you none of them are worth a damn. But we recommend tasting and deciding for yourself.
2012: The Black Market Emerges
Since bourbon had always been an everyman’s spirit, distilleries had often been skittish about overcharging for it. But, when everyone in the world wants Pappy Van Winkle, an MSRP of 80 bucks just ain’t gonna cut it. Thus, in the early 2010s a secondary market began to form, first ad hoc on eBay and Craigslist, before becoming a bit more organized via private groups on Facebook with names like Strong Water Showcase and BSM (Bourbon Secondary Market). Wheeling and dealing ensued and releases like George T. Stagg and Weller Full Proof started fetching closer to their true market value. Not everyone was happy, however; on June 13, 2019, Facebook shut down all secondary market groups.
2014: The Curtain is Pulled Back on MGP Madness
The industry’s dirty little secret was that many of these Iowa or West Virginia or Vermont craft “distilleries” weren’t actually distilling their own bourbons and ryes, but instead sourcing them from Midwest Grain Products (or MGP), a mega-factory distillery in Lawrenceburg, Ind. Luckily, MGP made quite good whiskey — and offered some of the oldest rye stock around — and helped brands like High West and Smooth Ambler attain stardom among whiskey geeks.
2020: Sticker Label Mania Foretells End Times
First, bars, retail outlets, and private whiskey groups started buying single barrel “picks” from the leading distilleries. Then, some of them began adding their own cartoonish decals to the bottle. Suddenly, merely having a 50-cent sticker on a single barrel pick of, say, Eagle Rare or Russell’s Reserve would magically turn it into something worth hundreds of dollars. The industry may not have fully jumped the shark yet, but, if you want to, you can probably buy a bottle with a shark sticker on it these days.
The article 24 Defining Moments in the History of Bourbon appeared first on VinePair.
source https://vinepair.com/articles/complete-history-of-bourbon/
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aptxt-blog · 7 years
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Выдающийся рекламщик Уильям Бернбах Вы когда-нибудь слышали об Уильяме Бернбахе? А ведь это выдающийся рекламщик, идеи которого вы, возможно, используете в своих текстах. Многие маркетологи не могут понять, почему об этом профессионале так мало говорят. Один из них – Эл Райс. Вот что он утверждал о Бернбахе: А так выражался об этом копирайтере гений, о которым вы точно слышали – Дэвид Огилви: Оба высказывания правдивы: Бернбах действительно умел организовать работу других копирайтеров. Под его руководством они создавали шедевры, а когда уходили к конкурентам – сочиняли посредственную рекламу. Итак, кто же такой Уильям Бернбах? Настоящий талант не скроешь Выдающийся рекламщик родился в Нью-Йорке в 1911-м году. Его родители были еврейскими эмигрантами, которые скорее всего и повлияли на пристрастия своего сына. С малых лет он полюбил поэзию и искусство. Наверное поэтому и закончил с отличием факультет английской литературы в Нью-Йоркском университете. Но в дальнейшем будущего копирайтера ожидали трудности: из-за Великой Депрессии он не смог устроиться на работу ни в одно рекламное агентство, потому что кризис негативно повлиял на весь бизнес. Мало того, ему с трудом удалось примкнуть даже к отделу корреспонденции в Schenley Distillers Company. Но, как не крути, пристрастия берут своё. Вскоре Уильяму надоедает переписывать объявления и он н��чинает сочинять их для сотрудников компании. Бернбаху очень хотелось попасть в отдел рекламы, поэтому он отнёс туда одно из своих рекламных сообщений, но не получил ответа. Однако спустя некоторое время его работа красовалась на страницах авторитетной газеты...↴ https://aptxt.com/vydayushhijsya-reklamshhik-uilyam-bernbah.html
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wineanddinosaur · 4 years
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Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon Was Born in Japan
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“An aroma that is a full rounded bouquet of caramel, vanillin, and alcohol that is pleasant and not raw or medicinal. Taste is slight caramel and vanillin semisweet alcohol that is smooth and pleasant, without bite or bitter taste. There is no lingering after-taste or burning sensation.”
This is how Master Distiller Emeritus Elmer T. Lee described the desired, if general flavor profile for Blanton’s Single Barrel bourbon, which debuted in 1984. But it wasn’t meant for you — or any American drinker, for that matter. Instead, it was a product of savvy American marketing efforts to save a sinking bourbon business, and Japanese receptive good taste.
In “Bourbon: The Rise, Fall, and Rebirth of American Whiskey,” author Fred Minnick describes Blanton’s Single Barrel’s 1984 release: “[It] entered the U.S. market for $24, targeting baby-boomer pockets.” But, he continues, “the new bourbon was a domestic flop. In fact, the only thing positive about Blanton’s was its popularity in Japan.”
Yes, hearing that a dram this special, with its caramel, vanilla, semisweet notes, was not intended for the country that invented it is a bit like tearfully thanking coworkers through a mouthful of your “birthday cake,” only to learn it was meant for Jan’s going-away party.
Blanton’s Single Barrel, the idiosyncratic seductress-in-whiskey we’ve finally grown to appreciate here in the U.S., was created by two enterprising liquor executives, Ferdie Falk and Bob Baranaskas. Both perceived 1980s-era America’s lack of taste in good whiskey, and Japan’s seemingly insatiable thirst for the stuff.
Bourbon’s popularity in Japan was no accident. It was created specifically for Japan by aforementioned Ferdie Falk and Bob Baranaskas (with a little help from Elmer T. Lee — but more on that later). The duo had previously worked for Fleischmann’s Distilling, a subsidiary of Nabisco. After some very big companies did some reshuffling amidst the shoulder-padded power lunch that was 1980s corporate America (Fleischmann’s was sold to a company called Grand Metropolitan, which would years later merge with Guinness to form Diageo), Falk and Baranaskas had a decision to make: try their luck in corporate restructuring, or move on. They very wisely, and pivotally for bourbon lovers, chose the latter.
Sticking to spirits, Falk and Baranaskas looked for an outfit to buy. Falk had worked for the famed Lewis Rosenstiel of Schenley Industries and worked out a purchase of one of its distilling operations, putting Falk and Barnaskas at the helm of their very own distillery: Albert B. Blanton’s, or what we know today as Buffalo Trace. Believing “bourbon’s future was outside the U.S.,” Minnick writes, “one of their first moves was the creation of Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon. Done at the behest of their Japanese customers, they released it in the U.S. as well.”
As Tom Acitelli writes in “Whiskey Business,” they created the bourbon with the help of legendary Elmer T. Lee, who explained the lore surrounding Col. Albert B. Blanton, the metal-clad Warehouse H (at the time, an exigency of material and cost, it turned out to encourage interaction between barrel and bourbon, resulting in a richer product). And while the U.S. largely ignored it, Japan “represented 51 percent of bourbon’s exports,” Minnick writes, which “grew 349 percent in the 1980s.”
To be fair, it wasn’t that Americans had bad taste, exactly (although it was questionable in the 1970s). It was that bourbon was, arguably intentionally, losing its quality. For example, in 1973, Four Roses put out an ad celebrating “Whiskey without the Whelm” — as in, “underwhelming” whiskey that was “never overpowering.” This inevitably led to what some might consider two-dimensional, easy-drinking swill.
Part of the reason for that drop in quality was overproduction. Lots of bourbon was being made, quickly and cheaply. This owed at least in part to fears of the Korean War diverting distillery resources (somewhat similar to the way we all buy a lot of booze in advance of a snowstorm — or a pandemic).
Additionally, younger Americans wanted to drink differently than their parents had. That meant more vodka, less bourbon, and, at least for a couple decades, bourbon having to find its footing elsewhere.
As whiskey guru and author Chuck Cowdery tells VinePair: “The sudden Japanese enthusiasm for bourbon is usually explained as a generational thing. The youth of that period were rebelling against their elders, the WWII generation, in multiple, cultural ways, much as had occurred in the U.S. in the 1960s.” Cowdery adds, “Since the older generation drank Scotch or Scotch-like Japanese whiskies, younger drinkers started to seek out bourbon.”
Writing into The New York Times in 1992, the former president of massive liquor group Schenley Industries, William Yuracko, nonetheless called marketing bourbon to the Japanese market “a daunting task,” noting, “we still had to wean the consumer away from his traditional preference for a Scotch-type beverage.” Their strategy: appeal to young people, encourage a generational division of tastes, and build bourbon bars where young drinkers could gather and share, and thus reinforce, their new preferences. (It worked.)
There is some speculation as to why American bourbon took off in Japan. Acitelli writes: “Theories abounded as to why the Japanese loved bourbon. … Some said it was the macho image it conveyed. Others said it was par for the course, given that the nation had long embraced American products.”
And Cowdery believes the Elmer T. Lee aspect of the Blanton’s story to be a bit fanciful: “[T]he crediting of Blanton’s to Lee is, in some ways, mostly marketing,” he says. “Falk and his marketing people told Lee what they wanted and he went into his inventory to find something suitable.” In other words, the lore of the old distiller reaching into bourbon history to revive the brand is nice, but we might owe more to Falk and Baranaskas for asking him to go looking. “Lee probably contributed the idea of making it a single barrel and tying it to the legacy of Albert Blanton, but otherwise it was Falk and his marketing folks, and the marketing folks at [Japanese company Takara Shuzo], who created the brand,” says Cowdery.
Another bit of late-‘80s pomade-induced E.S.P.: In his book, Minnick describes a 1989 interview with Heaven Hill Distillery president Max Shapira. In the interview, Shapira tells Cox News Service, “Bourbon whiskey has become the ‘in’ drink abroad — really throughout the world. The ironic thing is that here in the U.S., it’s just the opposite. Wouldn’t it be great if the foreign demand set a domestic trend?”
Why, yes, Mr. Shapira. Yes it would.
The article Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon Was Born in Japan appeared first on VinePair.
source https://vinepair.com/articles/blantons-single-barrel-bourbon-japan/
0 notes
johnboothus · 4 years
Text
Blantons Single Barrel Bourbon Was Born in Japan
Tumblr media
“An aroma that is a full rounded bouquet of caramel, vanillin, and alcohol that is pleasant and not raw or medicinal. Taste is slight caramel and vanillin semisweet alcohol that is smooth and pleasant, without bite or bitter taste. There is no lingering after-taste or burning sensation.”
This is how Master Distiller Emeritus Elmer T. Lee described the desired, if general flavor profile for Blanton’s Single Barrel bourbon, which debuted in 1984. But it wasn’t meant for you — or any American drinker, for that matter. Instead, it was a product of savvy American marketing efforts to save a sinking bourbon business, and Japanese receptive good taste.
In “Bourbon: The Rise, Fall, and Rebirth of American Whiskey,” author Fred Minnick describes Blanton’s Single Barrel’s 1984 release: “[It] entered the U.S. market for $24, targeting baby-boomer pockets.” But, he continues, “the new bourbon was a domestic flop. In fact, the only thing positive about Blanton’s was its popularity in Japan.”
Yes, hearing that a dram this special, with its caramel, vanilla, semisweet notes, was not intended for the country that invented it is a bit like tearfully thanking coworkers through a mouthful of your “birthday cake,” only to learn it was meant for Jan’s going-away party.
Blanton’s Single Barrel, the idiosyncratic seductress-in-whiskey we’ve finally grown to appreciate here in the U.S., was created by two enterprising liquor executives, Ferdie Falk and Bob Baranaskas. Both perceived 1980s-era America’s lack of taste in good whiskey, and Japan’s seemingly insatiable thirst for the stuff.
Bourbon’s popularity in Japan was no accident. It was created specifically for Japan by aforementioned Ferdie Falk and Bob Baranaskas (with a little help from Elmer T. Lee — but more on that later). The duo had previously worked for Fleischmann’s Distilling, a subsidiary of Nabisco. After some very big companies did some reshuffling amidst the shoulder-padded power lunch that was 1980s corporate America (Fleischmann’s was sold to a company called Grand Metropolitan, which would years later merge with Guinness to form Diageo), Falk and Baranaskas had a decision to make: try their luck in corporate restructuring, or move on. They very wisely, and pivotally for bourbon lovers, chose the latter.
Sticking to spirits, Falk and Baranaskas looked for an outfit to buy. Falk had worked for the famed Lewis Rosenstiel of Schenley Industries and worked out a purchase of one of its distilling operations, putting Falk and Barnaskas at the helm of their very own distillery: Albert B. Blanton’s, or what we know today as Buffalo Trace. Believing “bourbon’s future was outside the U.S.,” Minnick writes, “one of their first moves was the creation of Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon. Done at the behest of their Japanese customers, they released it in the U.S. as well.”
As Tom Acitelli writes in “Whiskey Business,” they created the bourbon with the help of legendary Elmer T. Lee, who explained the lore surrounding Col. Albert B. Blanton, the metal-clad Warehouse H (at the time, an exigency of material and cost, it turned out to encourage interaction between barrel and bourbon, resulting in a richer product). And while the U.S. largely ignored it, Japan “represented 51 percent of bourbon’s exports,” Minnick writes, which “grew 349 percent in the 1980s.”
To be fair, it wasn’t that Americans had bad taste, exactly (although it was questionable in the 1970s). It was that bourbon was, arguably intentionally, losing its quality. For example, in 1973, Four Roses put out an ad celebrating “Whiskey without the Whelm” — as in, “underwhelming” whiskey that was “never overpowering.” This inevitably led to what some might consider two-dimensional, easy-drinking swill.
Part of the reason for that drop in quality was overproduction. Lots of bourbon was being made, quickly and cheaply. This owed at least in part to fears of the Korean War diverting distillery resources (somewhat similar to the way we all buy a lot of booze in advance of a snowstorm — or a pandemic).
Additionally, younger Americans wanted to drink differently than their parents had. That meant more vodka, less bourbon, and, at least for a couple decades, bourbon having to find its footing elsewhere.
As whiskey guru and author Chuck Cowdery tells VinePair: “The sudden Japanese enthusiasm for bourbon is usually explained as a generational thing. The youth of that period were rebelling against their elders, the WWII generation, in multiple, cultural ways, much as had occurred in the U.S. in the 1960s.” Cowdery adds, “Since the older generation drank Scotch or Scotch-like Japanese whiskies, younger drinkers started to seek out bourbon.”
Writing into The New York Times in 1992, the former president of massive liquor group Schenley Industries, William Yuracko, nonetheless called marketing bourbon to the Japanese market “a daunting task,” noting, “we still had to wean the consumer away from his traditional preference for a Scotch-type beverage.” Their strategy: appeal to young people, encourage a generational division of tastes, and build bourbon bars where young drinkers could gather and share, and thus reinforce, their new preferences. (It worked.)
There is some speculation as to why American bourbon took off in Japan. Acitelli writes: “Theories abounded as to why the Japanese loved bourbon. … Some said it was the macho image it conveyed. Others said it was par for the course, given that the nation had long embraced American products.”
And Cowdery believes the Elmer T. Lee aspect of the Blanton’s story to be a bit fanciful: “[T]he crediting of Blanton’s to Lee is, in some ways, mostly marketing,” he says. “Falk and his marketing people told Lee what they wanted and he went into his inventory to find something suitable.” In other words, the lore of the old distiller reaching into bourbon history to revive the brand is nice, but we might owe more to Falk and Baranaskas for asking him to go looking. “Lee probably contributed the idea of making it a single barrel and tying it to the legacy of Albert Blanton, but otherwise it was Falk and his marketing folks, and the marketing folks at [Japanese company Takara Shuzo], who created the brand,” says Cowdery.
Another bit of late-‘80s pomade-induced E.S.P.: In his book, Minnick describes a 1989 interview with Heaven Hill Distillery president Max Shapira. In the interview, Shapira tells Cox News Service, “Bourbon whiskey has become the ‘in’ drink abroad — really throughout the world. The ironic thing is that here in the U.S., it’s just the opposite. Wouldn’t it be great if the foreign demand set a domestic trend?”
Why, yes, Mr. Shapira. Yes it would.
The article Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon Was Born in Japan appeared first on VinePair.
Via https://vinepair.com/articles/blantons-single-barrel-bourbon-japan/
source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/blantons-single-barrel-bourbon-was-born-in-japan
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isaiahrippinus · 4 years
Text
Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon Was Born in Japan
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“An aroma that is a full rounded bouquet of caramel, vanillin, and alcohol that is pleasant and not raw or medicinal. Taste is slight caramel and vanillin semisweet alcohol that is smooth and pleasant, without bite or bitter taste. There is no lingering after-taste or burning sensation.”
This is how Master Distiller Emeritus Elmer T. Lee described the desired, if general flavor profile for Blanton’s Single Barrel bourbon, which debuted in 1984. But it wasn’t meant for you — or any American drinker, for that matter. Instead, it was a product of savvy American marketing efforts to save a sinking bourbon business, and Japanese receptive good taste.
In “Bourbon: The Rise, Fall, and Rebirth of American Whiskey,” author Fred Minnick describes Blanton’s Single Barrel’s 1984 release: “[It] entered the U.S. market for $24, targeting baby-boomer pockets.” But, he continues, “the new bourbon was a domestic flop. In fact, the only thing positive about Blanton’s was its popularity in Japan.”
Yes, hearing that a dram this special, with its caramel, vanilla, semisweet notes, was not intended for the country that invented it is a bit like tearfully thanking coworkers through a mouthful of your “birthday cake,” only to learn it was meant for Jan’s going-away party.
Blanton’s Single Barrel, the idiosyncratic seductress-in-whiskey we’ve finally grown to appreciate here in the U.S., was created by two enterprising liquor executives, Ferdie Falk and Bob Baranaskas. Both perceived 1980s-era America’s lack of taste in good whiskey, and Japan’s seemingly insatiable thirst for the stuff.
Bourbon’s popularity in Japan was no accident. It was created specifically for Japan by aforementioned Ferdie Falk and Bob Baranaskas (with a little help from Elmer T. Lee — but more on that later). The duo had previously worked for Fleischmann’s Distilling, a subsidiary of Nabisco. After some very big companies did some reshuffling amidst the shoulder-padded power lunch that was 1980s corporate America (Fleischmann’s was sold to a company called Grand Metropolitan, which would years later merge with Guinness to form Diageo), Falk and Baranaskas had a decision to make: try their luck in corporate restructuring, or move on. They very wisely, and pivotally for bourbon lovers, chose the latter.
Sticking to spirits, Falk and Baranaskas looked for an outfit to buy. Falk had worked for the famed Lewis Rosenstiel of Schenley Industries and worked out a purchase of one of its distilling operations, putting Falk and Barnaskas at the helm of their very own distillery: Albert B. Blanton’s, or what we know today as Buffalo Trace. Believing “bourbon’s future was outside the U.S.,” Minnick writes, “one of their first moves was the creation of Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon. Done at the behest of their Japanese customers, they released it in the U.S. as well.”
As Tom Acitelli writes in “Whiskey Business,” they created the bourbon with the help of legendary Elmer T. Lee, who explained the lore surrounding Col. Albert B. Blanton, the metal-clad Warehouse H (at the time, an exigency of material and cost, it turned out to encourage interaction between barrel and bourbon, resulting in a richer product). And while the U.S. largely ignored it, Japan “represented 51 percent of bourbon’s exports,” Minnick writes, which “grew 349 percent in the 1980s.”
To be fair, it wasn’t that Americans had bad taste, exactly (although it was questionable in the 1970s). It was that bourbon was, arguably intentionally, losing its quality. For example, in 1973, Four Roses put out an ad celebrating “Whiskey without the Whelm” — as in, “underwhelming” whiskey that was “never overpowering.” This inevitably led to what some might consider two-dimensional, easy-drinking swill.
Part of the reason for that drop in quality was overproduction. Lots of bourbon was being made, quickly and cheaply. This owed at least in part to fears of the Korean War diverting distillery resources (somewhat similar to the way we all buy a lot of booze in advance of a snowstorm — or a pandemic).
Additionally, younger Americans wanted to drink differently than their parents had. That meant more vodka, less bourbon, and, at least for a couple decades, bourbon having to find its footing elsewhere.
As whiskey guru and author Chuck Cowdery tells VinePair: “The sudden Japanese enthusiasm for bourbon is usually explained as a generational thing. The youth of that period were rebelling against their elders, the WWII generation, in multiple, cultural ways, much as had occurred in the U.S. in the 1960s.” Cowdery adds, “Since the older generation drank Scotch or Scotch-like Japanese whiskies, younger drinkers started to seek out bourbon.”
Writing into The New York Times in 1992, the former president of massive liquor group Schenley Industries, William Yuracko, nonetheless called marketing bourbon to the Japanese market “a daunting task,” noting, “we still had to wean the consumer away from his traditional preference for a Scotch-type beverage.” Their strategy: appeal to young people, encourage a generational division of tastes, and build bourbon bars where young drinkers could gather and share, and thus reinforce, their new preferences. (It worked.)
There is some speculation as to why American bourbon took off in Japan. Acitelli writes: “Theories abounded as to why the Japanese loved bourbon. … Some said it was the macho image it conveyed. Others said it was par for the course, given that the nation had long embraced American products.”
And Cowdery believes the Elmer T. Lee aspect of the Blanton’s story to be a bit fanciful: “[T]he crediting of Blanton’s to Lee is, in some ways, mostly marketing,” he says. “Falk and his marketing people told Lee what they wanted and he went into his inventory to find something suitable.” In other words, the lore of the old distiller reaching into bourbon history to revive the brand is nice, but we might owe more to Falk and Baranaskas for asking him to go looking. “Lee probably contributed the idea of making it a single barrel and tying it to the legacy of Albert Blanton, but otherwise it was Falk and his marketing folks, and the marketing folks at [Japanese company Takara Shuzo], who created the brand,” says Cowdery.
Another bit of late-‘80s pomade-induced E.S.P.: In his book, Minnick describes a 1989 interview with Heaven Hill Distillery president Max Shapira. In the interview, Shapira tells Cox News Service, “Bourbon whiskey has become the ‘in’ drink abroad — really throughout the world. The ironic thing is that here in the U.S., it’s just the opposite. Wouldn’t it be great if the foreign demand set a domestic trend?”
Why, yes, Mr. Shapira. Yes it would.
The article Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon Was Born in Japan appeared first on VinePair.
source https://vinepair.com/articles/blantons-single-barrel-bourbon-japan/ source https://vinology1.tumblr.com/post/621997295650668544
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wineanddinosaur · 5 years
Text
11 Things You Should Know About Heaven Hill Distillery
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Heaven Hill Distillery, founded by the Shapira family in Bardstown, Ky., in 1935, is the largest family-owned and operated distillery in the U.S. It’s also the second-largest bourbon distillery in the world, and one of the country’s largest spirits suppliers.
Ready for a taste of whiskey history? Here are 11 more things you should know about Heaven Hill Distillery.
Heaven Hill began as a post-Prohibition proposition.
After Prohibition ended in 1933, Ed Shapira, a successful businessman and department store owner in New Haven, Ky., invested in a fledgling distillery looking to bring whiskey back to Kentucky. Ed Shapira’s five sons eventually bought out the distillery’s other investors, becoming the sole owners. One of these sons, Max Shapira, is the company president today.
You might know Heaven Hill by its other names.
Heaven Hill is famous in its own right, but you may know it better by its flagship bourbon labels, Evan Williams and Elijah Craig. Both have been produced since the 1930s. The distillery also produces the eponymous Heaven Hill Bottled-in-Bond, along with many other brands it either created or acquired: Larceny, Rittenhouse Rye, Henry McKenna Single Barrel, Bernheim Original Wheat Whiskey, Pikesville Rye, Old Fitzgerald Bottled-in-Bond, and Mellow Corn.
Until 2019, Heaven Hill’s distillers had ‘the most famous name in bourbon.’
Heaven Hill has had several members of the Beam family at its still. Most recently was the late Parker Beam, who started with the company in 1960, served as master distiller starting in 1975, and became master distiller emeritus in 2014, after falling ill.
Parker Beam was the son of Earl Beam, grandson of Park Beam, and grandnephew of Jim Beam. Bill Samuels Jr., friend of Parker and former Maker’s Mark executive, said he “lived up to and exceeded the burden of having the most famous name in bourbon.”
In 2019, Heaven Hill appointed Conor O’Driscoll master distiller. Though not a Beam, O’Driscoll is an industry vet, having worked in Kentucky bourbon for 15 years.
Heaven Hill is a young 84.
Despite being born in 1935, Heaven Hill keeps up with the times online. The distillery has its own podcast, “Tales from the Hill,” which delivers insights into the distillery’s heritage. And in March 2019, Heaven Hill brand ambassador Bernie Lubbers hosted a Reddit AMA (Ask Me Anything), devoting two hours to the online forum.
It’s had a few facelifts.
In 2018, Heaven Hill announced a major expansion and renovation — to the tune of $65 million — including $17.5 million toward a rebranding of the Bourbon Heritage Center, a stop on the official Kentucky Bourbon Trail offering tastings and a museum describing the region’s bourbon history. The rest went to new barrel warehousing and equipment upgrades. In total, the distillery has invested more than $100 million in expansions and tourism since 2010, according to the Spirits Business.
It wants you to visit.
Along with the recent renovations to the Bourbon Heritage Center in Bardstown, Heaven Hill also hosts the annual Kentucky Bourbon Festival in September. Additionally, visitors can swing by the Evan Williams Bourbon Experience in Louisville any time of year. That tour is led by Heaven Hill Artisanal Distiller and 38-year employee Jodie Filiatreau.
Heaven Hill has more rickhouses than America has states.
Heaven Hill is headquartered in Bardstown, Ky. It also operates several facilities in the area, each with its own set of rickhouses, or barrel warehouses. There are currently 51 rickhouses and counting: 22 in Bardstown, nine each in Deatsville and Schenley, seven in Bernheim, and four in Glencoe. In total, the 51 rickhouses hold 1,173,000 barrels.
But wait — there’s more. Heaven Hill is currently developing another campus in Cox’s Creek, Ky., “to allow for future expansion,” the company writes on its website. That campus will hold 11 rickhouses with the capacity to hold 605,000 additional barrels.
Heaven Hill offered the ultimate ‘angel’s share.’
On Nov. 7, 1996, a disastrous fire ravaged Heaven Hill’s Bardstown plant. “Flames could be seen shooting 300 to 400 feet into the air from over 20 miles away as the alcohol burned and barrels exploded,” Distillery Trail reports. The flames jumped from warehouse to warehouse, eventually engulfing seven, as well as the distillery. In four hours, more than 90,000 barrels of bourbon were lost. Amazingly, no one was hurt.
It makes smart investments.
In 1999, Heaven Hill acquired several spirits brands from beverage giant Diageo, including Deep Eddy Vodka, Hpnotiq Liqueur, O’Mara’s Irish Country Cream, and many others. As part of the same deal, it also acquired its Bernheim Distillery in Louisville, now the world’s largest single-site bourbon distillery.
Heaven Hill has always been the ‘best.’
The distillery has won dozens of awards, including 30 Best Whiskey wins, 14 Whiskey of the Year awards, seven Distiller of the Year awards, and 42 double gold medals. At the 2019 SF World Spirits Competition, Heaven Hill left with the titles for Distillery of the Year, Best Bourbon, and Best in Show Whisky. It’s the only distillery to win Best in Show Whisky with bourbon.
When Heaven Hill released its first label in 1939, Old Heaven Hill Bottled-in-Bond, it was the best-selling whiskey in the state of Kentucky.
Heaven Hill is part of two Bourbon Counties, in Kentucky and Illinois.
In 2015, Heaven Hill partnered with Chicago brewery Goose Island on a rare variant of the brewery’s Bourbon County Brand Stout. The special-release beers, sold annually starting on Black Friday, are known for kicking off the bourbon-barrel-aged beer trend.
The companies partnered again in 2018, when Goose Island’s Reserve Bourbon County Stout was aged in Heaven Hill barrels. In 2019, the bourbon barrels grace three different releases: Reserve Rye Bourbon County Stout, aged exclusively in Rittenhouse Rye barrels; Bourbon County Wheatwine Ale, aged in Larceny barrels; and the classic Bourbon County Stout, aged in Heaven Hill as well as Buffalo Trace and Wild Turkey barrels.
“Bourbon and beer is a partnership that makes sense,” Conor O’Driscoll, Heaven Hill master distiller, said in a press release.
The article 11 Things You Should Know About Heaven Hill Distillery appeared first on VinePair.
source https://vinepair.com/articles/heaven-hill-distillery/
0 notes
wineanddinosaur · 4 years
Text
How Japan Created the Modern American Bourbon Market
It was 1975 and bourbon sales in America were tanking. The brown spirit had hit its peak just five years earlier, selling some 80 million cases in 1970 — but it all went downhill from there.
Baby boomers coming of drinking age were rejecting the stuffy-seeming whiskey their parents drank, instead favoring beer, cheap wine, and, most especially, clear booze like vodka and tequila. The American whiskey industry was reeling and running out of ideas.
“This was a daunting task since the market was totally Scotch-taste oriented,” William Yuracko, then head of Schenley International’s export division, told the The New York Times in 1992. Japanese people mostly drank Scotch — the country had lifted all restrictions on imported spirits in 1969 — or their own homegrown whiskey, which was likewise based on a Scotch flavor profile. “Bourbon was unknown and a total departure from the taste pattern,” he wrote.
Remarkably, within a few short years, Yuracko (who would would become Schenley president from 1975 to 1984) and others would create a frenzy for bourbon in Japan. In fact, the country’s desire for very well-aged, high-proof, premium-packaged, limited editions and single-barrel bourbons helped Kentucky survive when the American bourbon market was dead as disco.
The U.S. would, in turn, follow Japan’s lead and, as the world entered a new millennium, start latching onto these trends and introducing products that helped revive America’s fervor for the once-humble spirit, ultimately and unwittingly turning it into something now rabidly pursued by connoisseurs the world over.
A Critical Mass of Bourbon
Yuracko first started taking reconnaissance trips to the Far East in 1972 and quickly realized that getting Scotch-swilling Japanese old-timers to switch to bourbon would be nearly impossible. He decided to instead focus his efforts on Japan’s youth, the “post-college consumer,” he told The Times, “whose tastes were not yet formed and who was attuned to Western products and ideas,” like Coca-Cola and Levi’s.
“They were having their own youth revolution, [like] what we had gone through in the ’60s they were going through in the 80s,” explains Chuck Cowdery, author and bourbon historian. “Rejecting their parents’ generation, including what their parents’ generation drank. They were open to trying something new.”
Enter bourbon. Then, as now, it was very hard for foreigners to make headway in Japanese business. Yuracko knew he’d need a local liaison, so he offered a distribution partnership with Suntory, the Japanese whiskey brand that already controlled 70 percent of the local market. Brown-Forman, another American whiskey powerhouse and Schenley’s best competitor, would eventually offer Suntory the same deal.
“I cannot overestimate the importance of the decision taken by Schenley management to place their most important brands in the same house with their major competitor,” Yuracko explained in a paper he wrote for the Journal of Business Strategy in 1992. “This would be tantamount to Ford and General Motors giving all their top models to Toyota to market in Japan.”
It was a major gamble for everyone involved. Suntory could, of course, intentionally torpedo all bourbon sales to assure Japanese whiskey would never again have a competitor; or it could favor one bourbon brand over the other. The fact was, however, neither Schenley nor Brown-Forman had much to lose. If they didn’t take the gamble, bourbon might not even exist by the end of the decade.
Suntory didn’t want to simply do a trial, either. According to Yuracko, Suntory wanted a “critical mass” of bourbon, “a product for every taste and price level … and each brand was given its own identity and market niche.” Schenley offered Suntory Ancient Age, J.W. Dant, and I.W. Harper. Brown-Forman handed over Early Times, Old Forester, and Jack Daniel’s.
Since most drinking in Japan was done outside of the home, Schenley and Brown-Forman together began setting up bourbon bars all over the country. The bars had “an unsophisticated atmosphere that would appeal to young people already attracted to American clothes, cars, and customs,” Yuracko explained, playing country music and serving American food like hamburgers and chili, and only pouring Suntory’s six bourbon brands.
Instead of buying single glasses of bourbon, young customers purchased bottles, stored in cabinets along the bars, each adorned with a neck tag denoting whose was whose. In an era before TikTok, it became a youthful challenge to see who could drink the most personal bottles. Thanks to heavy advertising from Suntory, one brand quickly began to rise above the others.
“I.W. Harper was the eye-opener,” explains Cowdery. A bottom-shelf product in America, it was naturally able to be sold at much higher prices in Japan, before Schenley eventually fully repositioned it as a premium, 12-year-old product. If it was only moving 2,000 cases internationally in 1969, I. W. Harper eventually became the largest-selling bourbon brand in Japan at more than 500,000 cases per year by 1991. Cowdery explains, “It was profitable to buy cases of I.W. Harper on [the American] wholesale market and privately ship them to Japan.”
Eventually, the U.S. had to take I.W. Harper off the market stateside in order to satisfy demand in Japan. Soon enough, other brands took notice and decided to see if they, too, could become “big in Japan.” By 1990, 2 million cases of bourbon were headed to the country every year.
More Brands Head to Japan
In a sleepy Osaka suburb, a three-story building that has been everything from a hotel to a brothel is now a bar styled like a western saloon. It serves American food like fried chicken, thumps Dylan and the Beatles on a vintage jukebox, and mixes up classic cocktails like the Mint Julep and another called the Scarlett O’Hara. This is Rogin’s Tavern in Moriguichi, a bourbon bar that opened in the 1970s that remains a shrine to Americana and its governmentally protected spirit, stocking more and arguably better bourbon than pretty much any single bar in America.
“I tasted my first bourbon in the basement bar of the Rihga Royal Hotel, a famous old place in Osaka,” claims Seiichiro Tatsumi, Rogin’s owner since 1977. He quickly became obsessed, reading everything he could about bourbon via literature provided by the American Cultural Center in Osaka. He finally visited Kentucky for the first time in 1984 and fell in love, driving its country roads, stopping at off-the-beaten path liquor stores, and acquiring numerous dusty bottles to bring back to Japan. He now owns a second home in Lexington.
Over the years, Tatsumi claims, he has probably “self-imported” some 5,000 bourbons from America back to his bar. “I stop at every place I pass, and I don’t just look on the shelves,” he says. “I ask the clerk to comb the cellar and check the storeroom for anything old. I can’t tell you how many cases of ancient bottles I’ve found that way.”
It wasn’t only Tatsumi. Japan gave these old bourbon brands a new lifeline. For example, Four Roses had long fallen out of favor with American drinkers by the 1970s. In 1967, Seagram’s turned the once-venerable brand into a dreaded blended whiskey, cut with grain neutral spirit and added flavoring.
“[B]y the time the ‘90s rolled around it was just an average blended whiskey,” the late Al Young, Four Roses’ former senior brand ambassador who worked at the company for 50 years, told VinePair contributor Nicholas Mancall-Bitel last year. But in Japan it was legitimate straight bourbon whiskey, packaged in sleek Cognac-style bottles with embossed silver roses, and it was a big hit. Just as Schenley and Brown-Forman had partnered with Suntory, in 1971 Four Roses struck up a partnership with Kirin, Japan’s top beer brand.
If brands like I.W. Harper, Four Roses, and Early Times were saved by Japan, others were specifically created for it. Blanton’s, for example, was spawned in 1984 by two former Fleischmann’s Distilling execs, Ferdie Falk and Bob Baranaskas. The two had acquired the Buffalo Trace distillery (then known as the George T. Stagg Distillery), as well as Schenley’s key bourbon, Ancient Age. Believing, like Yuracko, that the future of bourbon was overseas, they called their new company Age International.
“[T]he brand chased the profitable high-priced segment,” writes Fred Minnick in his book “Bourbon: The Rise, Fall, and Rebirth of an American Whiskey.” In this case, that meant introducing the world’s first commercial single-barrel bourbon, specifically designed for Japan, and packaged in a now iconic grenade-shaped, horse-stoppered bottle.
Blanton’s was such a hit in Japan that by 1992 Japanese company Takara Shuzo had purchased Age International for $20 million. It immediately flipped the actual distillery to Sazerac, while retaining the brand trademarks for Blanton’s.
Aged Bourbons Claim a Price
Accustomed to Scotch, once Japanese consumers “moved onto other types of whiskey, they already had these expectations built in for 12-, 15-, 18-year age statements,” explains John Rudd, an American who formerly lived in Japan and runs the Tokyo Bourbon Bible blog.
Bourbon in America had typically been released after about four years — it got too oaky if it aged much longer, it was believed at the time — and few consumers particularly cared about lofty age statements. Not so in Japan and, luckily, the glut in America allowed many bourbon distilleries to unload what they thought was over-aged junk.
“With a depressed market in America, lots of bourbon, especially extra-aged bourbon, was shipped to Japan where it could command a higher price,” Rudd says.
There was Very Old St. Nick, specially created in 1984 for the Japanese market, some as old as 25 years. There was Old Grommes Very Very Rare Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey, which in the late 1980s started sending Japan bottles as old as two decades. A.H. Hirsch, aged 15, 16, and eventually 20 years, landed in Japan as early as 1989, and is still some of the most coveted bourbon of all time (so much so that Cowdery wrote an entire book about it).
Heaven Hill, today the largest family-owned and operated distillery in the U.S., specifically bottled an Evan Williams 23 for the Japanese market and created new brands like Martin Mills 24 Years.
“Japan considered bourbon a prestigious, highly coveted consumer good,” says Jimmy Russell, Wild Turkey’s master distiller who started visiting Japan in the 1980s. Every year he returned with special bottlings from his company, some as old as 13 years, a lofty age that never existed in America. “Back then, you’d see private bottle programs at prestigious bars where high-level executives would have their own bottles of bourbon designated ‘my bottle.’”
Rogin’s Tavern, for one, started tapping distilleries for its own private, cask-strength bottlings. Willett provided a 25-year-old labeled “Rogin’s Choice.” Julian Van Winkle III, scion of the soon-to-come Pappy dynasty, offered a 12-year bottling. Van Winkle III, in particular, kept his nascent company afloat in the mid-1980s and onward by providing special bottlings, many under a name you could easily now call the entire Japanese whiskey marketplace: Society of Bourbon Connoisseurs.
Van Winkle III first released Pappy Van Winkle’s Family Reserve 20 Year in America in 1994; by the mid-2000s, Pappy had become the most coveted whiskey in the country, regularly selling for thousands of dollars per bottle.
“Bourbon became popular here [in America] again,” explains Rudd. “And people quit thinking it needed to be young.”
The American Bourbon Revival
America’s bourbon malaise would last nearly three decades, reaching its nadir in 2000, when a mere 32 million cases were moved stateside. Of course, it’s always darkest before the dawn, and, thanks to Japan’s example, things were already being put into place for bourbon’s homeland revival.
Like at Four Roses, where Jim Rutledge took over as master distiller in 1995 and made it his mission to get the company to start letting American consumers finally taste the high-quality bourbon Japan had been enjoying for decades. As Mancall-Bitel explained, however, “The bourbon was performing too well overseas and the company didn’t want to rock the boat — until it was rocked from within the company.”
Seagram’s collapsed and started selling off its assets. Rutledge convinced Kirin to buy Four Roses, and the eventual Japanese CEO, Teruyuki Daino, moved his offices from Tokyo back to the distillery in Lawrenceburg, Ky. By 2002, once again, Four Roses bourbon was sold in America. Today it’s one of the bourbon world’s most revered brands, introducing geek-friendly products like Single Barrel in 2004 and the Small Batch series in 2006.
Japan proved that well-aged, premium bourbon actually had a place in the world. Bourbon didn’t have to be Scotch’s economical, bottom-shelf brother. Blanton’s, when it was finally sold in America, was priced at $24 a bottle — then a massive price point — and was advertised in such upscale places as The New Yorker, The Wall Street Journal, and Ivy League alumni mags. Around the same time, Japanese drinkers were gladly paying $115 per bottle.
Bourbon’s rebirth in America has caused many brands to pull back their products from the Japanese market and raise prices on the little still sent there. Japan’s taste for bourbon has dwindled. At the same time, American tourists were heading to Japan to clear shelves of old stock.
“It all corresponded with the American bourbon boom getting out of hand,” explains Rudd. He believes Japan is no longer the bourbon oasis that it once was, even as recently as 2014, when he lived near a liquor store that stocked rare bottles like Society of Bourbon Connoisseurs, gold wax A.H. Hirsch, Van Winkle 1974 Family Reserve 17 Year, and Buffalo Trace Antique Collection offerings from the early aughts.
Rudd says he’d buy a few bottles here and there, always resting assured that more would be there any time he returned. “Then one day, I went back to the store and nothing was left,” he says. “I asked the owner what happened and he told me, ‘Some American guy named Alex came by and purchased all of it.’”
The article How Japan Created the Modern American Bourbon Market appeared first on VinePair.
source https://vinepair.com/articles/japan-created-american-bourbon-market/
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johnboothus · 4 years
Text
How Japan Created the Modern American Bourbon Market
It was 1975 and bourbon sales in America were tanking. The brown spirit had hit its peak just five years earlier, selling some 80 million cases in 1970 — but it all went downhill from there.
Baby boomers coming of drinking age were rejecting the stuffy-seeming whiskey their parents drank, instead favoring beer, cheap wine, and, most especially, clear booze like vodka and tequila. The American whiskey industry was reeling and running out of ideas.
“This was a daunting task since the market was totally Scotch-taste oriented,” William Yuracko, then head of Schenley International’s export division, told the The New York Times in 1992. Japanese people mostly drank Scotch — the country had lifted all restrictions on imported spirits in 1969 — or their own homegrown whiskey, which was likewise based on a Scotch flavor profile. “Bourbon was unknown and a total departure from the taste pattern,” he wrote.
Remarkably, within a few short years, Yuracko (who would would become Schenley president from 1975 to 1984) and others would create a frenzy for bourbon in Japan. In fact, the country’s desire for very well-aged, high-proof, premium-packaged, limited editions and single-barrel bourbons helped Kentucky survive when the American bourbon market was dead as disco.
The U.S. would, in turn, follow Japan’s lead and, as the world entered a new millennium, start latching onto these trends and introducing products that helped revive America’s fervor for the once-humble spirit, ultimately and unwittingly turning it into something now rabidly pursued by connoisseurs the world over.
A Critical Mass of Bourbon
Yuracko first started taking reconnaissance trips to the Far East in 1972 and quickly realized that getting Scotch-swilling Japanese old-timers to switch to bourbon would be nearly impossible. He decided to instead focus his efforts on Japan’s youth, the “post-college consumer,” he told The Times, “whose tastes were not yet formed and who was attuned to Western products and ideas,” like Coca-Cola and Levi’s.
“They were having their own youth revolution, [like] what we had gone through in the ’60s they were going through in the 80s,” explains Chuck Cowdery, author and bourbon historian. “Rejecting their parents’ generation, including what their parents’ generation drank. They were open to trying something new.”
Enter bourbon. Then, as now, it was very hard for foreigners to make headway in Japanese business. Yuracko knew he’d need a local liaison, so he offered a distribution partnership with Suntory, the Japanese whiskey brand that already controlled 70 percent of the local market. Brown-Forman, another American whiskey powerhouse and Schenley’s best competitor, would eventually offer Suntory the same deal.
“I cannot overestimate the importance of the decision taken by Schenley management to place their most important brands in the same house with their major competitor,” Yuracko explained in a paper he wrote for the Journal of Business Strategy in 1992. “This would be tantamount to Ford and General Motors giving all their top models to Toyota to market in Japan.”
It was a major gamble for everyone involved. Suntory could, of course, intentionally torpedo all bourbon sales to assure Japanese whiskey would never again have a competitor; or it could favor one bourbon brand over the other. The fact was, however, neither Schenley nor Brown-Forman had much to lose. If they didn’t take the gamble, bourbon might not even exist by the end of the decade.
Suntory didn’t want to simply do a trial, either. According to Yuracko, Suntory wanted a “critical mass” of bourbon, “a product for every taste and price level … and each brand was given its own identity and market niche.” Schenley offered Suntory Ancient Age, J.W. Dant, and I.W. Harper. Brown-Forman handed over Early Times, Old Forester, and Jack Daniel’s.
Since most drinking in Japan was done outside of the home, Schenley and Brown-Forman together began setting up bourbon bars all over the country. The bars had “an unsophisticated atmosphere that would appeal to young people already attracted to American clothes, cars, and customs,” Yuracko explained, playing country music and serving American food like hamburgers and chili, and only pouring Suntory’s six bourbon brands.
Instead of buying single glasses of bourbon, young customers purchased bottles, stored in cabinets along the bars, each adorned with a neck tag denoting whose was whose. In an era before TikTok, it became a youthful challenge to see who could drink the most personal bottles. Thanks to heavy advertising from Suntory, one brand quickly began to rise above the others.
“I.W. Harper was the eye-opener,” explains Cowdery. A bottom-shelf product in America, it was naturally able to be sold at much higher prices in Japan, before Schenley eventually fully repositioned it as a premium, 12-year-old product. If it was only moving 2,000 cases internationally in 1969, I. W. Harper eventually became the largest-selling bourbon brand in Japan at more than 500,000 cases per year by 1991. Cowdery explains, “It was profitable to buy cases of I.W. Harper on [the American] wholesale market and privately ship them to Japan.”
Eventually, the U.S. had to take I.W. Harper off the market stateside in order to satisfy demand in Japan. Soon enough, other brands took notice and decided to see if they, too, could become “big in Japan.” By 1990, 2 million cases of bourbon were headed to the country every year.
More Brands Head to Japan
In a sleepy Osaka suburb, a three-story building that has been everything from a hotel to a brothel is now a bar styled like a western saloon. It serves American food like fried chicken, thumps Dylan and the Beatles on a vintage jukebox, and mixes up classic cocktails like the Mint Julep and another called the Scarlett O’Hara. This is Rogin’s Tavern in Moriguichi, a bourbon bar that opened in the 1970s that remains a shrine to Americana and its governmentally protected spirit, stocking more and arguably better bourbon than pretty much any single bar in America.
“I tasted my first bourbon in the basement bar of the Rihga Royal Hotel, a famous old place in Osaka,” claims Seiichiro Tatsumi, Rogin’s owner since 1977. He quickly became obsessed, reading everything he could about bourbon via literature provided by the American Cultural Center in Osaka. He finally visited Kentucky for the first time in 1984 and fell in love, driving its country roads, stopping at off-the-beaten path liquor stores, and acquiring numerous dusty bottles to bring back to Japan. He now owns a second home in Lexington.
Over the years, Tatsumi claims, he has probably “self-imported” some 5,000 bourbons from America back to his bar. “I stop at every place I pass, and I don’t just look on the shelves,” he says. “I ask the clerk to comb the cellar and check the storeroom for anything old. I can’t tell you how many cases of ancient bottles I’ve found that way.”
It wasn’t only Tatsumi. Japan gave these old bourbon brands a new lifeline. For example, Four Roses had long fallen out of favor with American drinkers by the 1970s. In 1967, Seagram’s turned the once-venerable brand into a dreaded blended whiskey, cut with grain neutral spirit and added flavoring.
“[B]y the time the ‘90s rolled around it was just an average blended whiskey,” the late Al Young, Four Roses’ former senior brand ambassador who worked at the company for 50 years, told VinePair contributor Nicholas Mancall-Bitel last year. But in Japan it was legitimate straight bourbon whiskey, packaged in sleek Cognac-style bottles with embossed silver roses, and it was a big hit. Just as Schenley and Brown-Forman had partnered with Suntory, in 1971 Four Roses struck up a partnership with Kirin, Japan’s top beer brand.
If brands like I.W. Harper, Four Roses, and Early Times were saved by Japan, others were specifically created for it. Blanton’s, for example, was spawned in 1984 by two former Fleischmann’s Distilling execs, Ferdie Falk and Bob Baranaskas. The two had acquired the Buffalo Trace distillery (then known as the George T. Stagg Distillery), as well as Schenley’s key bourbon, Ancient Age. Believing, like Yuracko, that the future of bourbon was overseas, they called their new company Age International.
“[T]he brand chased the profitable high-priced segment,” writes Fred Minnick in his book “Bourbon: The Rise, Fall, and Rebirth of an American Whiskey.” In this case, that meant introducing the world’s first commercial single-barrel bourbon, specifically designed for Japan, and packaged in a now iconic grenade-shaped, horse-stoppered bottle.
Blanton’s was such a hit in Japan that by 1992 Japanese company Takara Shuzo had purchased Age International for $20 million. It immediately flipped the actual distillery to Sazerac, while retaining the brand trademarks for Blanton’s.
Aged Bourbons Claim a Price
Accustomed to Scotch, once Japanese consumers “moved onto other types of whiskey, they already had these expectations built in for 12-, 15-, 18-year age statements,” explains John Rudd, an American who formerly lived in Japan and runs the Tokyo Bourbon Bible blog.
Bourbon in America had typically been released after about four years — it got too oaky if it aged much longer, it was believed at the time — and few consumers particularly cared about lofty age statements. Not so in Japan and, luckily, the glut in America allowed many bourbon distilleries to unload what they thought was over-aged junk.
“With a depressed market in America, lots of bourbon, especially extra-aged bourbon, was shipped to Japan where it could command a higher price,” Rudd says.
There was Very Old St. Nick, specially created in 1984 for the Japanese market, some as old as 25 years. There was Old Grommes Very Very Rare Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey, which in the late 1980s started sending Japan bottles as old as two decades. A.H. Hirsch, aged 15, 16, and eventually 20 years, landed in Japan as early as 1989, and is still some of the most coveted bourbon of all time (so much so that Cowdery wrote an entire book about it).
Heaven Hill, today the largest family-owned and operated distillery in the U.S., specifically bottled an Evan Williams 23 for the Japanese market and created new brands like Martin Mills 24 Years.
“Japan considered bourbon a prestigious, highly coveted consumer good,” says Jimmy Russell, Wild Turkey’s master distiller who started visiting Japan in the 1980s. Every year he returned with special bottlings from his company, some as old as 13 years, a lofty age that never existed in America. “Back then, you’d see private bottle programs at prestigious bars where high-level executives would have their own bottles of bourbon designated ‘my bottle.’”
Rogin’s Tavern, for one, started tapping distilleries for its own private, cask-strength bottlings. Willett provided a 25-year-old labeled “Rogin’s Choice.” Julian Van Winkle III, scion of the soon-to-come Pappy dynasty, offered a 12-year bottling. Van Winkle III, in particular, kept his nascent company afloat in the mid-1980s and onward by providing special bottlings, many under a name you could easily now call the entire Japanese whiskey marketplace: Society of Bourbon Connoisseurs.
Van Winkle III first released Pappy Van Winkle’s Family Reserve 20 Year in America in 1994; by the mid-2000s, Pappy had become the most coveted whiskey in the country, regularly selling for thousands of dollars per bottle.
“Bourbon became popular here [in America] again,” explains Rudd. “And people quit thinking it needed to be young.”
The American Bourbon Revival
America’s bourbon malaise would last nearly three decades, reaching its nadir in 2000, when a mere 32 million cases were moved stateside. Of course, it’s always darkest before the dawn, and, thanks to Japan’s example, things were already being put into place for bourbon’s homeland revival.
Like at Four Roses, where Jim Rutledge took over as master distiller in 1995 and made it his mission to get the company to start letting American consumers finally taste the high-quality bourbon Japan had been enjoying for decades. As Mancall-Bitel explained, however, “The bourbon was performing too well overseas and the company didn’t want to rock the boat — until it was rocked from within the company.”
Seagram’s collapsed and started selling off its assets. Rutledge convinced Kirin to buy Four Roses, and the eventual Japanese CEO, Teruyuki Daino, moved his offices from Tokyo back to the distillery in Lawrenceburg, Ky. By 2002, once again, Four Roses bourbon was sold in America. Today it’s one of the bourbon world’s most revered brands, introducing geek-friendly products like Single Barrel in 2004 and the Small Batch series in 2006.
Japan proved that well-aged, premium bourbon actually had a place in the world. Bourbon didn’t have to be Scotch’s economical, bottom-shelf brother. Blanton’s, when it was finally sold in America, was priced at $24 a bottle — then a massive price point — and was advertised in such upscale places as The New Yorker, The Wall Street Journal, and Ivy League alumni mags. Around the same time, Japanese drinkers were gladly paying $115 per bottle.
Bourbon’s rebirth in America has caused many brands to pull back their products from the Japanese market and raise prices on the little still sent there. Japan’s taste for bourbon has dwindled. At the same time, American tourists were heading to Japan to clear shelves of old stock.
“It all corresponded with the American bourbon boom getting out of hand,” explains Rudd. He believes Japan is no longer the bourbon oasis that it once was, even as recently as 2014, when he lived near a liquor store that stocked rare bottles like Society of Bourbon Connoisseurs, gold wax A.H. Hirsch, Van Winkle 1974 Family Reserve 17 Year, and Buffalo Trace Antique Collection offerings from the early aughts.
Rudd says he’d buy a few bottles here and there, always resting assured that more would be there any time he returned. “Then one day, I went back to the store and nothing was left,” he says. “I asked the owner what happened and he told me, ‘Some American guy named Alex came by and purchased all of it.’”
The article How Japan Created the Modern American Bourbon Market appeared first on VinePair.
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source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/how-japan-created-the-modern-american-bourbon-market
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