You could just as easily call this the “Nathan forgot to stop by LeNell’s this weekend edition,” but I’ll go for the classy way to look at things.  Thus, in honor of the upcoming American holiday on Thursday, I will be detailing the recipe for a hooch of my very own design: Pumpkin Pie liqueur.

I started making liqueurs almost two years ago when I got curious about limoncello and scoured dusty internet message boards and long-neglected websites reading every recipe I could find.  I eventually settled on a combination of a few involving lemon zest, grain alcohol, simple syrup, and a good bit of time.  What came of that process was an incredibly bright, incredibly lemony, and incredibly potent liqueur that would make you forget lemons ever had an easy-going image to them.

Since then, I’ve had a few more missteps, but I’ve also had a few successes - one of which was my Pumpkin Pie liqueur.

What You’ll Need:

1 small-to-mid sized pumpkin (don’t worry too much about size, just use the left over for actual pie)

2 liter mason jars

1/2-3/4 liter grain alcohol

Cloves (ground or whole)

Nutmeg

Cinnamon

Allspice

Cane sugar

Purified/spring/distilled water

3-4 months

Preparing and Waiting:

The whole process is really quite simple.  Basically you want to get the flavors out of the spices and pumpkin and into the alcohol, so you stick them together for a while.

The first step is to wash the pumpkin well - scrub that thing, dirt ain’t tasty.  Next, after halving and scraping the guts out, chop it up into pieces no more than an inch in any direction.  Remember that the more surface area you have, the easier it is for the alcohol to absorb everything.  Reserve a few of the seeds.

Put the pieces loosely into a mason jar until it’s full.  Make sure that it’s not at all tightly packed, leaving about half the volume for the booze, then consult your local pumpkin pie recipe for the proportion of spices (I can’t reveal everything; that wouldn’t be fun) and put your spices into a tied-off teabag, which then goes into the jar.  Throw some seeds in there for good measure as well.

Next pour in the grain alcohol until the jar is filled.  Screw on the top tightly, shake, and put it in a cool, dark place for at least a month or two.  Every week or so, check on it and give it a shake.

The Transition:

After the month or two (this will vary by batch, judge by its color and the color of the pumpkin pieces), you need to make your simple syrup.  Basically take equal parts sugar (I prefer cane sugar for this recipe) and water then mix in a saucepan and bring to a boil.  Lower the heat to a simmer and stir until the sugar is dissolved and/or about five minutes.  Let this cool.

Open your pumpkin+booze jar, toss out the spices, and divide evenly into two mason jars.  Fill each jar the rest of the way with the room temperature simple syrup.  Screw on the tops and wait another month.

The Hard Part:

Next is the worst part about making Pumpkin Pie liqueur: straining.  Once your month is up, you want to remove all the traces of spices and pumpkin.  The best way to do this is through a series of filters, starting with cheese cloth and moving down to coffee filters.  This can be a long and tedious process depending on how little spice residue you want in your liqueur and how much spice escaped the bag.

Finishing Up:

You’re pretty much done now.  Each mason jar is about a wine bottle’s amount, so that seems like the natural container.

What you have is about 30-40% alcohol by volume and pretty sweet.  You can alter these aspects by adding more or less simple syrup or purified water in the transition period.

This stuff is good straight or on the rocks, but it’s also quite good with an equal part chilled cream and dusted with nutmeg.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I didn’t choose this week’s tasting for its nominal similarities to the blog, but I’d be lying if I said it was completely unrelated.  I first read about American Honey in Malt Advocate (I think?), but finally saw it in the corner liquor store a few days ago and decided to give it a try.

Last winter I started mixing honey with bourbon every now and then to great effect as a simple, enjoyable winter drink.  I’d imagine AH does a fine job coming from such inspiration, but I’m worried that it will stray too far from the simple mixture of its roots.

Stats:

- $20-25
- Made by Wild Turkey / Austin, Nichols
- 71 proof

Presentation:

The bottle is quite attractive: sleek, simple, and unadorned - yet it begins to approach the dangerous territory of chic vodkas.  The major visual element is a silhouetted turkey on the rear of the bottle.  Otherwise the design consisted of a clearly printed “American Honey” on the front along with a brief description.

Perhaps thankfully, a long-winded, tall-tale origin narrative isn’t expected of this product.

Tasting:

A careful whiff demonstrates that this is indeed bourbon - you can definitely smell the char and wet grass elements.  It is definitely much softer and and lighter as one would expect.

On tasting, it opens strongly with honey then moves more into its bourbon elements of oak and hay.  What takes me most off guard is the almost floral finish to it, odd.  This is most certainly different from the mixtures I’ve whipped up at home.

Over all:

I like this, but I’m not sure I’d buy it on a regular basis.  It doesn’t offer much beyond what you might get by adding a bit of simple syrup to your bourbon.  That said, there are some interesting qualities to it that go beyond a simple honey/bourbon concoction that might merit further exploration in the realm of cocktails.

Basil Hayden’s is the other of Jim Beam’s top-shelf selection, along with Booker’s and Knob Creek which I’ve written about before.  I’ve heard that BH is a lot smoother and gentler than those other two.  That could be a good or a bad things depending on who’s saying it and what the occasion is, though I have to admit I prefer a bolder drink so I’m a little wary.  On to the stats!

Stats:

• $30-$40
• 80 proof
• Made by the Jim Beam folks

Presentation:

Certainly the bottle reflects Basil Hayden’s relative lighness to an extent.  Soft tones and carefully constructed curves contrast with Booker’s homemade feel and Knob’s bursting angularity.  The labeling is actually pretty interesting.  It consists of a smooth, brown paper tunic over the neck of the bottle and extending down the sides and belted by a band of wood and copper.

I like the consistent soft coloring and relatively minimal look, but the story about George Washington and the four-year-old state of Kentucky is a little schlocky.  I suppose anyone who’s read this blog before could have seen that coming.

Tasting:

Basil Hayden’s immediately lets off a sweet aroma once it is poured.  While strong, further inspection opens up tree bark and dry wheat, but remains powerfully candied all along.  Candied wheat?  Is that a thing?

On tasting, there is a quick hint of the explosiveness of Knob Creek, but it quickly fades into a strawberry mingled with a bit of spice.  Toward the end there’s a slow burn of something like dry corn followed by a very clean and easy finish.

One thing that did surprise me here was the mouth feel - it was much bigger than I’d expect from the lighter end of the Beam small-batchers.

Over all:

Basil Hayden’s was very pleasant.  Just now I’ve poured myself another tasting, in fact.  But ultimately it’s nothing to get excited about.

It would make an excellent introductory bourbon for the uninitiated or those used to lighter fare, but only if it weren’t so pricey.  This will be nice to have around and contrast with some of the rest of my collection, but isn’t my favorite of its immediate family.

My apologies.  It’s been a few weeks since I’ve been able to get around to blogging here.  The first delay was on account of going to a Bulleit tasting at the Brandy Library (it got a little rowdy for the BL) and the second delay was from me being off in Germany last week where bourbon is not a priority for the locals.

Now that I’m back, I’ll try instituting a new section to the regular posts, a “Stats” section which will list price range, proof, and maker - thanks for the idea, Dave!

First up on my return: Old Fitzgerald 1849.  On my last trip to Lenell’s, I specifically asked for something from the lower end of the price-scale.  Both my wallet and my instincts were telling me that I’d been focusing a bit too heavily on $30+ bottles and it was time to look a little lower.  I’d had good experience with the Old Grand-Dad Bonded, so surely there were other gems among this, the everyman’s liquor.  I think it was Ingrid there who recommended OF1849.

Before tasting, I did some quick internet-research and found that you can’t go very far without coming across accolades for OF1849 as a bourbon with a high quality-to-price ratio.  These are high stakes that were set up for the product.  I hoped it would stand up to them.

Stats:

• Under $20
• 90 Proof
• Made by Heaven Hill

Presentation:

During my research I was particularly trying to find out where the 1849 date originated.  It turns out that it’s from the founding date of W.L. Weller & Sons, the previous owner of the brand.  Originally it may have been called Weller 1849, but subsequently changed by Heaven Hill.

The labeling is nothin if not complex.  It follows a black/gold/red color scheme and aligns its text to a number of different verticals.  The sadly obligatory block-o’-text sits on the top right corner of the front label (usually this is found on the back) and the date is adorned with odd agrarian flourishes.  Despite, or almost because of this the over all effect is not that OF1849 is trying too hard to be old-timey, but that they merely stopped trying to affect any specific presence a number of decades ago.  It’s not trying too hard, it just stopped trying - and I like this. [Update: same bottle as W.L. Weller Antique...]

Sure, it’s not something that jumps out at you from the shelf, but its uncool aesthetic makes it come closer to that ever-desirable “authenticity”.  If you needed any further proof of the uncynical design choices, look at the bottom of the label where it declares in the most unironic of phrases: “Distilled and aged expressly for [line break] Connoisseurs of Fine Bourbon.”  Excellent.

Tasting:

Old Fitzgerald 1849 has one of the strongest open-bottle-whiffs of anything I’ve tasted so far.  As soon as you crack that plastic cap, you receive a distinct scent of freshly-picked apples.  After pouring it, the apples continue, but are accompanied by mowed-grass, corn, and a distant mint - simple but pleasant.

On tasting OF1849 was not as smooth as I’d expexted, exploding onto the tongue.  This develops, however into caramel apples, some oak, popcorn, and tres leches cake.  In other words, this is certainly sweet.  The popcorn which develops in the middle adds an interesting contrast to the rest of the swirl.  There’s also quite a nice mouth-feel to it and a spicy-to-clean finish.

Over all:

I have to admit, what they say about Old Fitzgerald 1849 is right.  This is a damn good bourbon for less than $20.  While not as prototypical as Old Grand-Dad, there’s plenty to it to keep you interested that more expensive choices lack.  Well done.

The selection of Kentucky Vintage was not the result of the most pointed recommendation process.  I had never read or heard anything about it and it was recommended to me at LeNell’s only after it became clear that I had already exhausted the my guide’s first few rounds of suggestions.  That’s what this blog is all about though, right?

Kentucky Vintage comes to us from the folks who make Johnny Drum, Rowan’s Creek, and a few other familiars on liquor store shelves.  Judging by their website, Kentucky Bourbon Distillers has a broad and slightly disorganized product range in a variety directions - all the more for us to taste, I suppose.

Presentation:

The labeling on Kentucky Vintage seems to be a distillation of everything I complain about in bourbon labels: faux-aged, faux-burnt edges, Comic Sans-esque lettering, and (three!) long winded descriptions.  To top it off, they’ve dipped the plastic screw-top in wax.  Yet, to their credit, it seems their hand-numbering is legit, as is their medallion pressed into wax on the front.

The bourbon is small batch, 90 proof, and of an age only described as “long beyond that of any other bourbon,” hmmm.  This doesn’t mean anything other than it’s older than four years, legally, but it would be nice to imply a range from which they’ve selected.

Tasting:

To the nose Kentucky Vintage is pleasant, if subdued.  Dominated largely by char and a saltiness, there are also notes of sweet pears and oak.  It is neither rough nor complex, but hits a middle ground that just misses the “boring” range and lands in “pleasant”.

On tasting KV’s dominant sensation is saltiness start to finish.  Further inspection reveals that there isn’t too much more than that except corn and a hint of char in the middle.  This really tastes much greener than something aged “long beyond that of any other bourbon” should taste.  In a blind tasting, I’d be surprised if this were even four years.

Over all:

I was hoping that the clumsy presentation of Kentucky Vintage reflected an honest concentration on the bourbon itself - as it should be - but I was ultimately disappointed.  Judging by the range of bourbon sold by Kentucky Bourbon Distillers, they would do well to take a hard look at some of their expressions.

Old Pogue Master’s Select came recommended to me after I told the woman helping me that I particularly liked the Old Forester I had last week.  It seems appropriate to make a comment about Dirty Old Towns or something along those lines, but that would just be too obvious, wouldn’t it?

Presentation:

Old Pogue Master’s Select’s bottle is quite attractive.  It’s simple, the typeface is elegant without being showy, and most importantly, it shows off the bourbon very well.  Its not-overly-sloped slides and relative slender profile direct light pleasingly through the amber tones within.  The hand-numbering is always a nice touch as well.

However, OPMS succumbs to the urge of burdening their product with over-wrought nostalgic tales in the little attached booklet.  Stories of how OP is somehow the most authentic bourbon lead in to tales of the Civil War and early Kentucky settlers.  Honestly, these kind of stories don’t mean a thing if your product isn’t good.

So let’s give this a try.

Tasting:

To the nose, Old Pogue Master’s Select comes across with dry hay and plenty of proof.  Deeper in, there are elements of wet slate and generally a wetness (moss, bark, grass, etc) that belies the first impression of dry hay.  I wish this weren’t so harsh, I feel like there’s much more I’m missing here.

On the palate OPMS is surprisingly sprightly.  It definitely tastes quite green and a little under done, but that initial rush is exciting.  It is definitely sweet, with elements of that hay from the nose, but them moves in to a slightly tart mango - all along with the clear impression this is green, corn whiskey.  As these intitial impressions fade, there arrives a bit of a more savory sensation like a young, un-peated Scotch (barleyish) - a little bizzare actually.   The finish is quite clean.

Over all:

I really think that Old Pogue Master’s Select could do with more time in the barrel.  The over all impression is largely that of immaturity and over-proof - even though it isn’t even 50%.  Needless to say this has very little in similarity to the Old Forester I tasted last week.

I’ve never read a bad word about the Old Forester Birthday Bourbon series, so I was excited to try this one out.  I also tried out a new liquor store today, Wine Exchange, which didn’t have the greatest selection, but the manager was very friendly - asking what he should add to his bourbon offering. With any luck, this implies that we’ll have a decent source of bourbon in the neighborhood soon.

Presentation:

Old Forester Birthday Bourbon comes in a squat little bottle with a hearty cork stopper.  Its labeling is not over done and quite tasteful.  It doesn’t pander to the nostalgists but it does have a weighty feel to the branding.  The bottle itself isn’t burdened by origin stories or lists of awards - those are relegated to a little booklet attached to the neck.  Perhaps this is out of respect for those of us that prefer a vessel unadorned by too much text, but more likely it is simply because the number of awards this series has won can only fit in such a separate booklet.

Tasting:

To the nose Old Forester Birthday Bourbon 2007 is rich and smooth.  It’s dominated by sweet caramels, buttercreams, andcomes across without any sharp edges.  Each scent layers easily with the next.  Quite attractive.

On the palate OFBB can give some of my favorite single malt scotches a run for their money.  It opens with a citrusy tartness that recalls lemon drops and pineapple.  This drops into a sensation that borders between the saltiness of Talisker and freshly baked cupcake.  Next a cool mintiness creep up from the back then fades into a long, moderately warm finish with only the slightest notes of oak looking in on the edges.  Very well done.

Over all:

This 2007 edition is very impressive.  It is quite complex without brashness of a Knob Creek or any sharp angles to speak of.  For a bourbon aged 13 years, I’m surprised by how free of wood it is -  as though it traded in the wet oak aspects for a subtlety and variety of character not often seen.

This is possibly my favorite selection since starting this blog.

While the rest of my borough is out partying, I’ve taken a break to bring a new whiskey into my arsenal.  Shine On Georgia Moon is something that’s caught my eye on the shelf every time I visit my local liquor store, so instead of venturing down to Red Hook to see my usual pushers at LeNell’s I opted to give SOGM a try.

Presentation:

Shine On Georgia Moon is bottled and positioned for one purpose and one purpose only: to hammer home the idea that it is moonshine.  From the name, to the mason jar, to the irregular typeface on the shopping-bag-paper label, this liquor is anything but subtle.  Thankfully they realize that they are so unapologetically forward in their visual presentation that they didn’t find the need to add a hokey little narrative about some old-timey man and his still out in the back woods of Georgia (or Kentucky as is the case here).

Beyond these obvious points, there is one message that seems particularly distictive to this brand - they proult declare that their product is “less than 30 days old” right on the front label.  This is a clear response to the often fetishistic focus on a whiskey’s age that we see in other brands.  SOGM seems to be trying to make the “freshness” of the product a selling point…not a crazy approach in the era of local food and farmers’ markets.

If you take the cheap bottling and quick time to market implied in the “less than 30 days old” tag line, and place these two qualities next to the $13+ price point, what you see is some damn shrewed marketing.  The Johnson Distilling Company has taken the market’s obsession with notions of “authenticity” and manufactured unpretentiousness and turned it into a cheap-to-make, mid-market brand.  Bravo.

Tasting:

Shine On Georgia Moon is no subtler to the nose than its bottling is to the eye.  Before even getting to the nose however, one must struggle to pour the whiskey out of the mason jar itself - not an easy task to complete neatly.  Once in the glass, SOGM definitely smells like whiskey, but very green whiskey.  The dominant scent is (naturally) corn, but it really smells like the mash itself, unaged, unmellowed.

On the palate, SOGM is equally young.  It moves quickly through its seasons: starting with a burst of corn, dropping into the sensation of boiled mash, then disappearing as quickly as it came leaving only a slight remembrance in the clean finish that something had passed this way.  There seem few better ways to describe it than simply as ‘fast’.

Over all:

I would probably never find myself settling down with a glass of neat Georgia Moon any day soon, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t good uses for a green whiskey such as this.  For instance, I can imagine with a little simple syrup and mint this would make a fine julep; or perhaps replace the mint with a wedge of lime and the simple syrup for cane syrup for a variation on Ti’punch.  In fact, SOGM reminds me more of a rhum agricole than a bourbon or any other American whiskey - so it might be best to treat it as such.

Virginia Gentleman is perhaps the best known non-Kentucky bourbons, yet this distinction is only partly true since the Smith Bowman distillery takes new distillate from Buffalo Trace (in Kentucky) then distills it for a 3rd time at their Virginia location, where it is also barreled and aged. I suppose that’s good enough.

Presentation:

VG90 is the small batch, premium expression of the brand. The bottle is dominated by gold - in the waxed neck, the labels, and the text - but otherwise attempts to exude a subdued, genteel dignity. This is expressed with the spare descriptive text on the back and the prominent fox hunt painting that serves as the primary branding imagery on the front. The bottle itself is an attractive and simple shape that draws the eye toward the action in the label.

Tasting:

The most impressive elements of Virginia Gentleman 90 were the initial scent when opening the bottle and its impression on the nose after pouring. To the nose it has a strong yet smooth character. It is assertive in its presence, but not in its character, built with scents of kettle corn, sea-breeze, and wet grass. I really quite enjoyed this aspect which sets the table for the actual tasting.

On the palate VG90 is very smooth, yet a little boring. After an initial sweetness that vaguely hints at caramel and pineapple, comes a rather neutral warmth and a clean finish. I spent a good amount of time trying to chase down further depths but to no avail.

Over all:

Virginia Gentleman 90 made an impressive opening to the nose, but on the palate is was smooth yet dull. I have to admit that I enjoyed it though. This is an excellent bourbon to bring out for company and folks who aren’t going to be up for the intricacies of something more complex. True to its theme Virginia Gentleman manages to express a subdued, genteel dignity both in vision and character.

I’m back from vacation and found some time to stop by LeNell’s to pick up the next couple subjects for this blog of mine.

Appearance:

This week, I tried the Elijah Craig Single Barrel.  ECSB is one of those bourbons that could go either way.  On the one hand, its placement in the higher end of the market implies (and hopefully demands) a certain level of quality, but at the same time when bourbons get up to 18 years that can sometimes be to much wood.  No on wants to feel like they’re chewing on the barrel after all.

However it turned out, ECSB will make a fine aesthetic addition to any bourbon shelf.  The bottle stands out from the standard dusty-old-man school of design that most bourbons seem to adhere to.  Instead ECSB takes a decidedly more feminine approach, more like Four Roses Small Batch.  Its smooth curves and slender neck are adorned by swirls of flowers, petals, and vines and the label sports a baby-blue, gold, and white color scheme.  At the center of it all is the Elijah Craig seal, hanging like a silver pendant on a debutante’s neck (sadly, this seal is made of what seems to be cheap plastic).

All this does seem a little over-done, but that just means it will provide a nice visual counter-weight to the creaking masculinity of the Wellers and Grand-Dads of Old.

Tasting:

To the nose Elijah Craig Single Barrel comes across quite simply and a little off-puttingly.  The stark corn and char that make up the dominant features seem out of place in such an old bourbon.  Surely these would have been tempered by their time in the oak?  I was hoping for something more at this stage.

On tasting, the first sensation is red berries, followed quickly by the sweet corn and char.  These mix and provide some heat in the middle, but are followed by a pleasant finish of freshly mowed hay that fades to wet oak - edging very close to the point of over-aged, but not quite getting there.

Over all:

Elijah Craig Single Barrel is quite smooth with a touch of heat and vigor in the middle.  The finish definitely reflects its aging, but does not go too far.  It was not as simplistic as I had feared from the scent, it was well balanced over all, and flirting with the boundary of over-agedness.

The finish is a long one.  This is a drink to take your time with.

Apologies for the low-quality picture.  My usual camera is out of service at the moment.