Back on the brandy train I guess. This time, however, will be the first non-apple brandy I’ll have written about. This time, I gone with pears. Pears don’t have quite the same aura of Americana that apples do – no Johnny Pearseed, for instance. In fact, according to this map of the pear harvest from Wikipedia, the only place where pears are grown in the US is the Northeast. Fortunately – that is where both I and Harvest Spirits are based.
Harvest Spirits also seems like and interesting operation. First of all, if their distiller’s notes are at all accurate, they’re quite new – about as old as this blog is, in fact. Secondly, their main product is an apple-derived vodka, a spirit I’ve only tasted once when Ralph Erenzo from Tuthilltown Spirits ran a tasting at a nearby liquor store. Finally, they actually have a decent website.
Stats:
- $25ish
- Made by Harvest Spirits
- 80 proof
Presentation:
There’s not much to their bottle. It’s tall and slim with a textured label that almost completely wraps around the bottle. The name “PEAR” falls vertically down the front and is topped with the eponymous fruit. The back of the label has a small block of text that begins with the over-dramatic statement: “Pear.” before going on the describe the brandy in sparse terms and suggesting that you serve it chilled.
Tasting:
This definitely smells like fresh distillate. It’s sweet, with pear, and something almost oily to the scent. On tasting, there’s an immediate and very full mouth feel. To its credit, it is not nearly as harsh as the aroma, but at the same time there isn’t as much of the fruit to it as I’d hoped, or as much as you might expect after tasting so many apple brandies.
Over all:
This is a pretty descent brandy. I would really like to see this after a bit of aging to smooth some of the rougher edges. That said, impressive mouth feel and solid pear-essence comes through. I would recommend chilling it though.
The more I look into it online, the more I’m thinking I’m lucky to have got my hands on a bottle of Death’s Door Whisky. First of all, the spirit
Back in full health and back into bourbon blogging – with a well regarded single barrel no less in Rock Hill Farms.



…or this one:
You have to give Rebel Yell credit for avoiding the usual bourbon stereotypes of old men with their heirloom recipes and magic touch. Instead they’ve gone with a different motif, but stereotypical no less: the romanticized (Southern) Male Outcast figure. The Rebel Yell website is festooned with these tropes and often ends up focusing on this ‘rebel’ image more than the whiskey itself.
I feel a little like I’m going about this wrong – writing about Gentleman Jack before the standard Jack Daniels. Gentleman Jack is the middle offering in the Jack Daniel’s, Gentleman Jack, and Jack Daniels Single Barrel, so it would seem natural to start with the first rung of the ladder. Unfortunately, college provided me with too many tasting experiences of the standard Jack Daniel’s to be as unbiased as I’d like. The Gentlemanly variety, then, provides something of a fresh start for this popular brand.
Michter’s has been one of those whiskeys that I think about buying every time I’m stocking up, but never do. It is in most liquor stores in the city that have anything approaching a decent whiskey selection so it’s easy to turn up the opportunity to buy it with the ‘there’s always next time’ rationale. Well, this past Sunday was the ‘next time’ I suppose, because I finally picked up a bottle of Michter’s American Whiskey.
If you missed me last week, that’s because I was traveling about France, doing very little in the way of tasting American liquors – bourbon especially. In fact, I managed only one type of liquor over there: a single Calvados whose name I don’t even recall. Instead, I did what I could to get a taste of the wine world, and in particular, I delved into the world of Burgundies. Thanks, in large part to
I’m off to France for the next week, so that means two things for this blog: first, it means there won’t be an entry next week – unless I’m able to find a worthy American liquor over there and get into the blogging spirit, I suppose; and second, it means that in my anticipatory mood I’ve picked up a bottle of Clear Creek’s Calvados-inspired apple brandy to write about.