The Times Union's guide to Capital District Distilleries, Wineries, Breweries

To our fellow Capitaland Craft Connoisseurs!

The Times Union, our beloved hometown rag, is out this weekend with a truly phenomenal resource:

Click the text to launch the TU’s guide in a new browser window.

Click the text to launch the TU’s guide in a new browser window.

This online index of Capital Region craft operations presents a fascinating synthesis of past Times Union reports re: our fellow industry operatives’ offerings and options! It features attractive photos and links to articles with the finer details. Keep this guide handy; it’s your road map through the very best of upstate NY. (Three cheers to the TU for compiling it!)

Below, I’m including links to just a few of the TU guide’s entries which are particularly close to Patrick’s and my hearts—

And, be sure to check out the Times Union’s overview of the excitement down at New Scotland’s Indian Ladder Farms! That article surveys a whole slew of cool area eateries and brew pubs.

So raise a glass to the Times Union! And be sure to subscribe to the TU to support this type of local coverage, too.

—Jesse

No Curtains for Curtin!

Dear Friends and Fellows:

If you’ve tracked our trajectory from the beginning, you know that New Scotland Spirits wouldn’t exist without John Curtin’s inexplicably gracious guidance. As the founder and CEO of the Albany Distilling Company, our partner distiller, he’s been instrumental in nudging us in the right direction—through regulations, industry trade craft, distilling techniques, etc.—throughout the past four years. (Has it really been four f***ing years?!) And over the past 18 months, ADCo co-owner Rick Sicari has joined the “bend-over-backwards-to-help-us” party, overseeing our company’s production and working through the logistics of distilling our Helderberg Bourbon Whiskey.

All this charitable altruism in the service of Patrick’s and my dream has more than once compelled me to ask:

What is wrong with these people?!?!

Like, it was just this past week that John took a half hour out of his day—via video teleconference—to walk me through the mechanics of one of the New York State Liquor Authority’s wildly unnavigable and user-unfriendly online reporting platforms.

Naturally, I called Patrick immediately following the tutorial.

“The man is either sick or evil,” I complained, distraught that John had now cast upon me an obligatory debt from which I might never be unburdened. “He will not let me compensate him for his time or help!”

“That,” Patrick responded, seemingly unconcerned, “or he’s just a really nice guy.”

Et tu, Patrickus?

Ladies and gentlemen, scope the below. TELL ME these don’t look like mugshots:

Is it me, or would these photos make a lot more sense stamped with inmate ID numbers?

Is it me, or would these photos make a lot more sense stamped with inmate ID numbers?

John and Rick MUST be working some nefarious angle which accounts for their insistent assistance. But until I figure out what it is, all we can do is celebrate the recognition they’ve just received for being pillars of the Upstate New York distiller community.

The Washington Post is out with an article commending John’s creative endeavors as he pilots ADCo through COVID-19’s stormy waters. And we’re thrilled he’s getting such well-deserved recognition (to include a mention of his pioneering role in establishing the Capital Craft Beverage Trail, of which New Scotland Spirits is a proud member).

If you’re a routine reader of a blog, you know that Pat and I have been monitoring the craft distilling industry’s response to the coronavirus since the early days of its outbreak. ADCo has been at the forefront of that response since the jump. Whether its John and Rick’s rapid ramp up of hand sanitizer production within days of COVID-19’s domestic outbreak or ADCo’s innovative business model pivot—selling food from area eateries while mindful of social distancing requirements in their facility (which you can read more about it in the Washington Post article)—it’s clear that our hometown’s flagship distillery is developing a roadmap that struggling craft operations can utilize in forging their own paths through the virus-fueled industry downturn.

So until we figure out the nature of John and Rick’s presumable “long con”—of which New Scotland Spirits is clearly the mark—I hereby declare that we’re proud to be partnered with the owners of the Albany Distilling Company.

That said: watch your back, Patrick.
These jerks are so good that they must be up to no good.

—Jesse

Jesse's home, safe and sound!

Well everyone, I’m both relieved and please to report that my intrepid business partner has returned no worse for the wear from the Middle East. And as you can see from this video dispatch, he seems to really be enjoying himself… as well as a bottle of WhistlePig “PiggyBack” 100% rye whiskey!

Welcome home, Soldier!

WhistlePig Piggyback rye whiskey goes great with sun, surf, and safe passage home…

A Community of Craft Distillers!

Patrick:

If all goes according to plan—and the TTB concedes to our appeal of its recent denial of our Certificate of Label Approval application—you and I will officially join the venerable community of American craft distillers.  Given all the logistics and legalities and commercial concerns occupying our recent conversations, it’s important we take a moment to be excited!  After all, our soft launch this November (in advance of our formal launch next summer) is the culmination of discussions which began in the early days of 2016.  That’s half a decade ago, brah.  Incredible to think of all that’s happened in our lives since then….

Anyway, I’m bringing a couple resources to your attention, so that you can join me in refamiliarizing ourselves with the dynamic craft distillers we can proudly call “colleagues”.  It’s an estimable bunch, to be sure.

First, here’s one of many resources listing distilleries in our New York home state.  DistilleryTrail.com’s listings omit some key players, but it’s a good start. 

For a more comprehensive list—and one which focuses on our upstate NY neck of the woods—then you need to head over to the Capital Craft Beverage Trail.  Dude, if you haven’t touched this site in a minute, do so now; there are so many new players in our Area of Operations, and I’m glad to see that everyone is surviving all the restrictions and impositions attendant to the COVID-19 response.

Then, check out Esquire’s list of the best whiskey companies in America, compiled last year.  It awarded 50 distinctions of “best-in-state”, and a lot of these are the “usual suspects”. But there were also some players of whom I was ignorant. Finger Lakes Distilling came out #1 (in their list) for New York. 

I’m soon to return from a pretty surreal 7.5-month deployment to Afghanistan; reviewing this list is a reminder of what about America I miss so much.  It bespeaks a creativity and camaraderie that shouldn’t be taken for granted.  I wouldn’t be in this industry if it weren’t for you, bud, so cheers to our 30-year friendship and all that it’s produced.

—Jesse

Let's Control Ourselves, Shall We?

Patrick:

Drinking has positively surged during the pandemic.  According to Nielsen data, retail alcohol sales jumped by 55% nationally in March (when many stay-at-home orders were put in place), and then remained steadily high for weeks thereafter.  Moreover, it’s possible the new “alcohol-to-go” sales conventions and laws permitting “carryout cocktails” will stay in place even after bars and restaurants reopen.  A boozy future may very well be the new normal, and one of COVID-19’s lasting legacies.

But if it is, that’ll merely be the continuation of a trend that began even before Planet Earth welcomed the coronavirus.  Because here’s a fun fact:  in January of this year—well before COVID had overtaken humanity—the Associated Press reported that “Americans are drinking more now than when Prohibition was enacted.”

That’s right.  Just before Congress banned the sale and manufacture of alcoholic beverages in 1919, Americans were drinking an average of just under 2 gallons of alcohol a year.  That rate was enough to warrant passage of the 18th Amendment, which then went into effect on January 17, 1920 (100 year ago). 

And yet that rate pales in comparison to today’s per capita average of 2.3 gallons per year, which breaks down to about 9 drinks per week.  Think about that:  we’re drinking more today than were our forebearers when Congress and the Country deemed it imperative to dick around with the Constitution. 

But if the two of us (and our consumer base) sound completely out of control, consider the numbers at the dawn of our country’s founding:  by 1830, the average American was drinking the equivalent of 7 gallons of alcohol per year.  Distilling became so widespread that whiskey became cheaper to buy than beer, wine, coffee, tea, or milk!

Evidently, Prohibition was a remedy to a problem that had already been largely solved by the time it went into effect.  Although the 19th Century’s drinking rates were pure lunacy, the numbers had decreased dramatically by the time the consumption of alcohol became a Constitutionally-prohibited crime. 

The social ills the 18th Amendment introduced are well documented, and ultimately prompted Congress to adopt a resolution proposing a 21st Amendment that would repeal the 18th.  And that’s what happened:  the 21st Amendment was ratified on December 5, 1933, ending Prohibition, and Americans returned to their love of the drink with a vengeance.

So all I can say is that I hope Americans are increasing their intake responsibly.  We want the laws permitting more efficient means of selling to our customers to remain in effect, but that probably means we all need to stay on the south side of drinking 7 gallons per year….

—Jesse

Your Business: To Re-Open or To Wait?

Your Business: To Re-Open or To Wait?

Jesse:

If you’re like me, you like going to breweries and liquor tasting rooms. The terminology makes them sound chic and classy, but they’re really just bars in disguise. They make you feel comfortable and right at home. Bring your dog, your grandmother, or just throw care to the wind and bring a baby. Any baby will do. And no matter how family friendly they may seem, these establishments are really just places to drink. Sure, they might offer some food—but the main attraction is the alcohol.

They’re Dumping Craft Draft!

Patrick:

This is gonna hurt you, bud… but it’s best you heard it from me first.  I’m not the only casualty of the novel coronavirus.  It’s latest victim:  CRAFT BEER!

Above: Prohibition-era dumping… it’s as much a travesty now as it was back then.

Even though liquor and grocery stores are seeing increased sales of beer in cans and bottles, shuttered bars and canceled events have created a backlog of draft beer at America’s assortment of craft breweries—most of which don’t sell to grocery stores, and normally rely on draft beer sales at their high-margin taprooms and brew pubs to bolster bottom lines.

With the absence of sales at bars and restaurants, beer distributors nationwide are sitting on stacks of unneeded kegs slowly approaching their expiration dates.  And lots of breweries are confronting the inevitable and dumping unsold reserves directly down the drain.  These are scenes reminiscent of Prohibition… all I can hope is that you get your hands on as much of the hops as you can, before the suds end up in the sewer.

—Jesse

COVID & CRAFT

Patrick:

Holy s**t. 

I just read the American Craft Spirits Association’s survey of the nation’s 2,000+ craft distillers, and the results are grim.  In the words of Margie A.S. Lehrman, CEO of the ACSA:  “craft distilleries are facing a potential industry-wide collapse.”

COVID-19 isn’t just threatening to decimate the industry; it’s reshaping its future.  That’s the gist of a New York Times article addressing our nascent craft industry. 

In short: “How can a sector that relies so heavily on bars, tasting rooms and face-to-face sales — not to mention customers willing to pay a premium for its products — move forward in an economy defined by social distancing and thinner wallets?”

2020 was supposed to herald a whole new level of success. In American in the last ten years, the number of distilleries had grown to more than 2,000.  And in addition to amounting for $5 billion in liquor sales domestically, craft distillery tourism was generating a half billion dollars in sales worldwide before distillers all over the globe were forced to shut their doors.  With so many revenue streams drying up, the question is going to be whether the smaller outfits can survive.

The New York Times article pinpoints what commercially defines the craft distilling sector:  “local distribution with a focus on so-called on-premises sales, like bars, restaurants and their own tasting rooms.”  And it details the reality facing most of new ventures in this industry, to wit, the massive amounts of debt necessary to finance operations in the first few years of distilling operations. 

Even worse, the article notes that “the market for craft spirits is centered in large cities and among millennial and younger consumers — all of which have been especially hurt by the sudden economic downturn,” and further reports that “customers are mostly hoarding low-priced household brands — instead of buying a bottle of craft whiskey, they’re buying two bottles of Jack Daniel’s.” 

What is clear, bud, is that we’re going to have to rely heavily on our community to keep us afloat in these trying times.  Perhaps that’s how it SHOULD be.  Because we were never in it for the money… we were in it for the PLACE, for the PEOPLE, for the community of those who love the soil we grew up on as much as we do.  New Scotland represents our core values, and New Scotland Spirits is designed to celebrate the people who live them. 

That’s why I think the New York Times hits that nail right on the head:

Whichever path the industry takes, distillers say they expect a future with fewer of them, and much less money to go around. That might not be an entirely bad thing, if it forced distillers to set aside big expansion plans and focus instead on deepening their relationships with their communities. 

“The ones who get through will be the ones the communities closest to them decide it’s important that they survive,” Mr. Mooney said. “If your community values your existence, your community will rally around not just making sure you survive, but thrive afterward.”

Amen, brother. 

—Jesse

The Albany Ale Project!

Patrick:

As a craft brewery connoisseur of the first order—which is to say “one of those insufferable hops elitists”—I thought you’d get a kick out of this titillating little factoid: “[I]t could be argued Albany significantly influenced American beer and where it is today.”  

So declares a well-researched article on Albany.com, which recounts Albany’s “pivotal role in our country's beer industry” from as early as the mid-1600s, with the arrival of our County’s early Dutch settlers.  Check out Albany’s Sudsy Past: A History of Beer in the Capital City.

Did you know that New York City has the Capital Region to thank for keeping its mugs full for two decades in the first half of the 19th Century?  Apparently, during the 1830s and 40s, NYC’s rivers were so contaminated that beer production was compelled to a halt.  Guess who stepped in?  Those ancient Albanites, with a product known far and wise as “Albany Ale.”  Although towns up and down the Hudson River sprung up with some of their own ales, Albany Ale outshone its neighbors due to its high quality and local flavoring. 

Sound familiar?  

I can’t help but wonder if one day, in the distant future, an article detailing the history of Albany’s local whiskey concern will be sent to your great-grandkid’s embedded brain microchip.  “In 2017, New Scotland Spirits ushered in a new era of liquor excellence defined by locally sourced ingredients and hometown pride.  Blink twice to have the Government of Amazon Inc. deliver this delicious OG whiskey directly into your mouth.”

As the article goes on to emphasize, the era of mass-produced beer collided with the rise in popularity of the micro-brew.  As you well know, people want choice; they want the freedom to decide which drink suits their particular palate.  And, they want something they can drink with pride, be it a triple IPA or a locally sourced vodka.  Giving people the catharsis of saying “can I make you an old fashioned?  I just bought this whiskey made right here in town!” is the reason we got into this game in the first place.

Anyway, check this article out.  I found it pretty inspiring… we’re not the only ones to attempt to quench upstate New York’s thirst for native quality.  It reports on the efforts of local beer blogger Craig Gravina and his partner Alan McLeod, who have been working to recreate that historic “Albany Ale” as documented on their website:  Albany Ale Project. 

Bottom line:  Albany’s local beer scene is on-par with some of the best brewing regions in the country, and the Albany Ale Project website will give you hope for a frothy future in our hometown. Check out their Facebook group.

As I type this, I’m purchasing their book “Upper Hudson Valley Beer” (you should buy it, too, because I refuse to lend you anything else after the infamous ping-pong table incident #buyithereonAmazonbecauseyoucantbetrusted).

I’ll leave you with this:
read that article, buy that book, and let me know your thoughts. 

I f**king love Albany.

— Jesse

Industry Mobilizes to Craft Hand Sanitizer

Patrick:

This is too surreal. As I write from the outskirts of Kabul, I can’t help but feel powerless as, from afar, I watch America deal with this once-in-a-generation pandemic. COVID-19 has begun to infect Afghanistan; I’m sure U.S. Forces are soon to deal with that fallout.  Amazing that a microscopic parasite has so fully united our species…

I’m trying to keep track of it all, and as I’ve researched the manner in which the coronavirus and its fallout has affected our industry, a few articles made me swell with Whiskey Industry pride.

The mass mobilization to produce hand sanitizer in the face of shortages shows that, once again, distillers are stepping up to the plate in times of need… just as they did during the World Wars to supply “war alcohol”.

Our Pennsylvanian brethren at Eight Oaks Distillery were featured in this article  for temporary transformation into a hand sanitizer factory; then handing it out for free. Other distillers from our own state (Black Button Distilling out of Rochester) have taken up that mantle in addition to temporarily shutting down tours (as depressing as a statement that is) to keep the virus in-check. And get this: the Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau waived the need for distilled spirits permit holders to obtain authorization priors to producing hand sanitizer. THAT is good government in action. 

Even though I’m the one in a combat zone, you guys, the whiskey-makers, are the ones truly mobilizing to protect the homeland. Keep fighting the good fight. Understanding how close-knit the craft spirits community is, I see that the physical separation is most distressing. The tours, the festivals, those get-togethers are what binds us. Our time together will come back.

But here’s one thing I also know: Americans are resilient, particularly Albanites, and especially whiskey distillers!  So hang in there!  And goodbye, for now, from the other side of the world.

—Jesse

Will craft beer go the way of the baseball card?

Jesse,

Since you’re on the other end of the world defending my freedom (to drink), I want to update you on the current status of craft beverages in our country.  It’s time to give a State of Our Union of Craft Beverages.  

This time of year is a critical one because many parts of our union take part in something known as “Beer Week”—a week when cities (or regions) encourage breweries and craft beer bars to hold unique events, usually beginning with an “opening ceremony” festival and culminating in one last drunken hurrah, known as Sour Sunday (sour beers…get it?).  Some fortunate citizens have the following Presidents’ Day off to rest their liver and slip back into a more sober reality. 

These yearly “Beer Weeks” all began as a marketing response to the cyclical lull in business during the preceding month of January.  In addition to less than desirable weather and a lack of funds from the holidays, January has become the target of a phenomenon known as “Dry January”.  So, in addition to a lack of business from occasional drinkers, those that imbibe more often have begun to take the month off… perhaps to convince themselves that it’ll make up for their consumption the rest of the year.  No judgements here, but the craft beer market has successfully exploited these yearly avoidances.  And who can blame them?  It seems those abstaining can now hop back on the wagon in a blaze of glory.  “Drink craft beer for 10 straight days, you say?  Why yes, good sir, I think I shall; after all, I just took a whole month off!”

“Is it fanaticism, a social calling, FOMA, or just pathologically unbridled alcoholism disguised as connoisseurship? ”

In addition to unique events, breweries began producing special beers for this event that are made only once a year.  These brands gained fanatical attention, as craft beer fans seemed to seek out beer that was purposely produced on a limited scale.  One of the most famous examples of this is Russian River Brewing’s Pliny the Younger, a triple IPA that is brewed once a year and sold only on premises for the first two weeks of February.  Russian River’s yearly tradition has been ongoing for over 15 years and fans still line up for hours to have a taste.  Some people wait in line 8-12 hours (even overnight!) to try it.  And while I suppose there’s no right way to be an alcoholic, this strikes me as most definitely the wrong way. 

Anyway, I’ve had it several times, and it’s a phenomenal triple IPA.  Thousands of people flock there, and the same goes on year-round on the east coast at Treehouse Brewing.  Customers wait in line for hours just to take home their coveted cans.  Is it fanaticism, a social calling, FOMA, or just pathologically unbridled alcoholism disguised as connoisseurship?

Customers waiting in long lines at Treehouse Brewing

Customers waiting in long lines at Treehouse Brewing

I’ve been wondering how we all got here with craft beer.  It didn’t happen overnight, but the boom has skyrocketed over the past 10 years.  The first contributing factor is the exponential growth of craft breweries in this country.  In the last 10 years, the number of breweries has grown from 1,800 to 7,500.  The second major factor has been the resurgence of canned beer.  The can—once associated with cheap industrial beer—is a more environmentally friendly approach that also keeps beer fresher for longer.  

Treehouse Brewing cans

Treehouse Brewing cans

In recent times, the 16 ounce / 4 pack of cans has become the symbol of “high end” beers, often high proof stouts or hazy IPAs, and easily fetching $15-$25.  The larger surface area has become a canvas for attractive artwork and cheeky names.  Often, the 4 packs are made in “limited edition.”  This all contributes to a growing fanatical drive by customers to snatch up new releases.  Breweries will often announce on social media when a release is coming, and fans will line up and be ready to fork over their money.  This has proven to be a successful marketing ploy and most other breweries are following suit.  Many “collect” special releases and even sell or trade them to others doing the same from other parts of the country.  It’s gotten to a point where people are not even into drinking the beer, but just showing off their purchases on social media.  

humble sea socks and sandlas.jpg

So, everybody is making “specialty” beer on a “limited edition” basis and it seems to be enjoyed by customers.  But I can’t help to wonder:  when will people catch on that none of the beer is actually “limited” by any reality other than marketing?  And when will we all have reached our limit of enthusiasm surrounding these products?  At some point, it’ll become old hat—an oversaturated market with so many choices that there really isn’t any differentiation.  

All this analysis recalls my childhood.  As a child of the 80’s, I grew up with a fond fascination for baseball cards.  I enjoyed collecting them, trading them, selling them, and learning about the so-called market for them.  For most of the 80’s, there were only a handful of card companies.  Each made their yearly set of all the players and you did your best to find or buy the most valuable (or those of your favorite players).  Most cards were relatively cheap and needed to be—its target demographic was kids!  As a collector, you could really get a handle on everything available.  

The 1989 Ken Griffey Jr. rookie card - Upper Deck

The 1989 Ken Griffey Jr. rookie card - Upper Deck

This all changed in 1989 with the release of one particular card:  the Upper Deck Ken Griffey, Jr. rookie card.  The history behind this tipping point in time had many similarities to that of craft beer.  At the time, baseball cards were fairly mundane until a new company, Upper Deck, entered the market with a higher quality / glossy card, with a price tag that was 4 times the standard.  The quality was one of the drivers behind the cost, but when the rookie featured on the first card in their 1989 set (i.e., Ken Griffey Jr.) turned out to be a major all-star, the prices soared.

With these factors combined, the market went wild; the card quickly became one of the most sought after, driving prices to well over $100.  Suddenly, the worst in human nature and greed quickly took over, because these cards were supposed to be in “limited supply.”  You either purchased an entire set, including the card, or randomly received one in small, sealed packs (thought to be very rare to find a Ken Griffey Jr.).  That would have been a “fair” market if that idea of supply were true, but collectors from all corners of the country were finding these single cards for purchase. However, just like printing sheets of money, rumors spread that the reason for the increase in Ken Griffey Jr. cards was that Upper Deck was actually printing them in mass quantity, for their own sale to card shops.  To this day, Upper Deck has neither confirmed nor denied the rumors.

card shop line.png

The sudden change in interest of an item originally collected by kids morphed into an adult driven quasi stock market.  Multiple card shops popped up in every town and people (kids AND adults) showed up for new releases and “special” events where sought-after cards were sold.  The market turned into a fanatical craze of collecting with the purpose of re-selling in the aftermarket to make a buck, rather than simply partake in the original enjoyment that only kids could understand.  Card companies quickly caught on to the craze, and like everything else in American culture, they saturated the market to collect as much money as possible from customers.  Soon, the card companies began making several variations of their cards and also created “high-end” sets, thought to be super rare.  Some were even gold plated, fetching hundreds of dollars, based on an imaginary market of supply and demand.  

cards in fire.png

The market eventually collapsed. Why? Because that ego-fueled boom left the average customer (kids) behind in the dust, only to be overrun by greedy adults looking to make a quick buck.  Kids didn’t have hundreds of dollars on hand to buy cards, nor did they have the sense to follow such a wide variety of availability.  The market had priced out (and emotionally edged out) the demographic that was the backbone of its demand.  Without the interest of kids, the market was left with a bunch of adults wondering what to do with their inventory.  By the late 90’s, card shops had gone bankrupt, and people were throwing out their cards or literally burning them.

“If everything is a “special limited release,” is it really all that special?”
beers.jpg

My concern with the current market of craft beer stems from what I saw with the baseball card market 30 years ago.  We’ve already seen in 2019 the first year of decline in the number of new breweries (still increasing in total numbers but slowing).  More importantly, the craze of “special releases” and “limited production” beers are turning customers in a direction that almost always works out negatively for the entire market.  If everything is a “special limited release,” is it really all that special? After all, beer ingredients aren’t limited, and there isn’t any shortage of grains or hops.  So how the hell is it special?

In my view, the only type of beer that can still hold value are those that are defined by time, like aged stouts or sours.  Those could be considered limited because of the time and cost associated with holding inventory.  And like aged beers, customers will continue to see value in aged spirits because their availability is truly based on a limitation—it costs a tremendous amount of money to make and age spirits!  That’s much different than a beer brewed in two weeks, in limitation because the brewer decided not to make any more…

Will we see a reduction in breweries and overall fanaticism for craft beer?  History would say:  undoubtedly so.  But the breweries that stood out originally and didn’t exploit their customers will survive, true to their original market.  After all, beer is supposed to be enjoyed with a stress-free mindset.  No one should stand in line overnight just to drink a beer.  

But if that’s what you’re into, fine.  And while you wait, can I interest you in buying some baseball cards?

— Patrick Carey

Which Is Which Whisk(e)y?

Pat:

Before we began this endeavor four years ago, I had only a surface-level understanding of the wide world of whiskey.  American whiskey, Irish whiskey, Scotch whisky; single malt vs. single grain vs. blended malt; rye vs. wheat vs. corn… I couldn’t have told you one iota of what any of these distinctions meant.

But over the past half-decade, I’ve gotten a much better handle on processes, grains, and regional distinctions.  And as a cheat sheet, this article breaks down in one easy-to-read location what took me a good percentage of my 30s to learn… it details the subtle and not-so-subtle differences across the whiskey spectrum.

For instance, when people think of “American-style whiskey”, they typically gravitate to Tennessee whiskey or bourbon.  But, as long as the spirit is made from grain distilled at less than 80% ABV (160 proof), stored in new oak barrels, then bottled at 40% ABV (80 proof) or stronger, it may be classified as “American whiskey.”  As we get into the more diverse sub-categories, other “rules” begin to factor in.  

I’ll let you check out the descriptors of other alcohol, but I wanted to specifically highlight the classifications that pertain to AMERICAN WHISKEY:

  • Rye, Wheat, Malt and Rye Malt Whiskey: These are American whiskeys where 51% of the mash bill recipe is composed of the namesake ingredient. No amount of aging time is required by law.

    • Corn whiskey is subjected to the same rules, except that it does not have to be stored in wood. And if it is put in wood, it must be stored in uncharred or used oak barrels. These exceptions are designed to separate general corn whiskies from bourbon.

  • American Straight Whiskey: Straight whiskey adds a minimum aging requirement of two years to the same rules above. Whiskies made that follow this additional regulation can add “straight” on the label, i.e. straight rye whiskey.

  • Bourbon: Bourbon must be made in the United States from a recipe with a minimum of 51% corn, making it technically a corn whiskey. However, unlike generic corn whiskey, it must be stored in charred new oak barrels at no more than 62.5% ABV (125 proof). No amount of minimum aging is required by law. It also doesn’t have to be made in Kentucky.

  • Tennessee Whiskey: This offshoot of American whiskey isn’t defined federally in a strict legal sense like other American whiskey styles. It is, however, one of the biggest forces in the industry thanks to the global brand of Jack Daniel’s. Most Tennessee whiskey is made in exactly the same manner as bourbon except for a final step known as the Lincoln County Process. The method is named after the original county where Jack Daniel’s first distillery was located and involves pouring the distilled whiskey through a charcoal filter to remove impurities before barreling.

So there you have it!  A comprehensive yet simple explanation of what’s what in whiskey.  And when the inevitable time comes that we need a quick refresher, it’s all right here.

A Guide to the World’s Whisk(e)y Making Traditions by Ben Bowers—https://gearpatrol.com/2015/03/06/whiskey-basics-explained/

—Jesse

Our Baby Bourbon Celebrates Its 1st Birthday

Jesse:

Happy New Year, brother!  If you’re reading this post, I presume you’ve finally found a WiFi hub.  Good:  you’re gonna get a kick out of this dispatch.

[NOTE:  To all our fellow New Scots following along at home, Jesse has just deployed to Afghanistan; he’ll be there for the next 7 months.  He decided that defending our freedom abroad is a good way to pass the time when you’ve got bourbon aging back home…]

I spent most of the day with John and Rick at the Albany Distilling Company, and together we sampled New Scotland Spirits’s one-year-old bourbon.  It seems like just yesterday we were pouring that clear divine nectar into charred oak barrels… yet somehow that was over twelve months ago, as proven by the crisp golden color seeping into our bourbon. 

I mean, just LOOK at this!  After only a year, our bourbon has taken on the honey-colored hue of the oak it’s kissing. 

But the sight of the bourbon isn’t what’s newsworthy here; that distinction belongs to the taste.  And in a word: it’s mother f**king great. 

So that’s three words—one was insufficient.


Jesse, I’m telling you… this is going to be BIG.  Our bourbon is already so quality that we could probably just bottle it now.  But true to convention, I agree that we should age it for the minimum two years necessary to secure the “straight” bourbon whiskey distinction, and then an additional two years after that in line with the traditional significance of the bottled in bond legislation.

Anyway, I had a blast with the ADCo boys.  They were gracious enough to make some time to pull samples from our casks, and then we talked business over bourbon at the bottle shop.  They were clearly surprised that we’re achieving such promising notes in our whiskey so early on in the aging process.  This business is one gigantic and excruciating exercise in delayed gratification, because enjoying the phenomenon in these pictures is 36 months away.  But if this past year is any indication, 2023 will be here before we know it.

12 months down, 36 to go!

Keep your head down out there, bro.  You’re not gonna want to miss this… so get home safe and sound.  

—Patrick

The Beer Jesus Hath Risen!

Jesse,

I’m on the patio with my laptop, sipping on the latest samples of our 2.5 year old single malt, and feeling incredibly proud of what we willed into existence. 

Over the past few years, we’ve created a functioning spirits company together—and it was anything but easy to do.  Yet despite so many people telling us “no” or saying the vision we were describing couldn’t be done, we always found a way to move forward.  We’ve built a robust supply chain comprised of great people and partners, and can now boast a legion of loyal supporters.  As the decade draws to a close, it’s really rewarding to see what our friendship continues to produce.

But to be honest, there’ve been many moments when I considered throwing in the towel.  I’m sure the thought crossed your mind, too.  That’s why I’m posting this message… because I really want you to check out the fascinating documentary I watched last night.  I took ease in our troubles, as it made me realize that even the most successful and experienced companies face the same issues confronting us.

“The Beer Jesus from America” is a documentary (trailer HERE) available on Amazon Prime about the international beer culture and a San Diego-based brewing company known as “Stone”. It’s an exposé on the trials and tribulations of Stone Brewing’s Founder, Greg Koch, who went on to open a brewery in Berlin, Germany.  The documentary follows Greg’s five year journey from finding a property, to obtaining the licenses, to managing construction, and to convincing the public of his mission—perhaps the hardest feat. 

Knowing you, you’re already asking why it’d be difficult to convince Germans about the merits of beer.  After all, Stone makes great beer, and it’s beloved by Americans. What’s the problem? 

Well, you have to understand that while Germany is known for its beer culture and overall open-mindedness (to say nothing of their “anything goes” drug culture), Germans’ perceptions about the fundamentals of what beer actually is is very restricted.  You see, Germany’s beer is governed under the 503-year-old Beer Purity Law, known as Reinheitsgebot.  The law’s original intention was to protect people from poor quality or unsafe ingredients, so it limited brewers to using only four ingredients (water, malt, hops, yeast) to make “beer.”  The law is still in effect today!  So, if you want to make a “beer” using fruits, cacao, or even chili peppers, go ahead… but it won’t be considered beer.  Instead, you’ll need to call it a “fruit alcohol beverage” or something like that.

As a brief aside, we could draw the same parallels to what the spirits industry is going through today.  Like, did you know that there’s no such category in the TTB (Alcohol, Tobacco, Tax, Trade Bureau) as a single malt whiskey?!  More about that issue and how I want to resolve that at a later date…

Stone’s entire mission is to make beer that they like and include creative flavor profiles that are anything but those found in Germany (think salt and lime lager or chipotle pepper porter). 

The challenge of building a successful brewery, restaurant, and social setting—all in one—was going to be onerous and multifaceted.

Stone experiment with bold approaches to flavor, e.g. chipotle peppers.

  • Would people go to Stone’s remote location on the outskirts of Berlin?

  • Could they build the facility on budget, on time, and receive the proper licensing (from government officials who protect the German Beer Purity Law)?

  • Would the general public take a liking to Stone’s styles of beer with higher quality ingredients and bold flavors?

  • Could a beer culture that’s hundreds of years frozen in time be able to evolve…and for a company from America?

As you know, I lived in San Diego (the original home of Stone) from 2007-2012, right in the beginning of the exponential increase of craft breweries in the USA.  This explosive growth occurred on a smaller scale nationwide, but was most prominent here.  Throughout my time in San Diego, craft beer became very easy to find and the general public was very knowledgeable on the subject.  Fast forward to today:  one of the city’s main tourist draws (aside from the incredible scenery and weather) is craft beer, as evidence by its claim to being host to the country’s highest number of breweries (161!), to its 50 tasting rooms, to its growing arrival of “beer drinker comfort food”. 

And, um, let’s just say that you don’t have to look too hard for confirmation.  15 years ago, you were much more likely to see that obnoxious fit surfer than the so-called “brewer’s body.” 

Today, though, there’s a pretty equal mix. Sexy!

Within San Diego, Stone was always the gold standard for craft beer.  Having started in 1996, a time when there were only 15 craft breweries in the county, it quickly became associated with high quality and flavorful beer.  It’s branding was bold; the gargoyle printing stood out from the rest.  Plus, the label descriptions were borderline obnoxious, and literally arrogant. Case in point: Arrogant Bastard Ale.

And, although the price of their beer was always higher than typical beer, people chose to drink it…. even if that meant drinking less overall.  It was a change in the way people thought of beer, as they were willing to spend $10 on a six pack of Stone, versus the same on a 12 pack of “Big Beer” (Miller, Coors, Bud)… or what Stone refers to as “tasteless fizzy yellow beer.”  I mean, it was obvious that you were buying something truly worth the price.  I declare from firsthand experience: the quality was unparalleled. 

Stone’s mission and branding to the public is always about being daring, outspoken, and of high quality.  This certainly goes for their beer, but it also goes for their restaurants and tap rooms.  Their Escondido Brewery and restaurant (known as the “World Bistro and Gardens”) is a property like none other for craft beer lovers.  The massive facility is one for the visual senses, with tons of boulders, indoor/outdoor seating, and tropical gardens. 

While working in San Diego, I would routinely convince my management to have team lunches at Stone, all in an effort to enjoy the over-the-top scenery (and sneak in a couple of Stone brews on the company dime, duh).  Having been to several Stone locations, I know that this is what they do everywhere they open.  The Napa location, for example, appears like it was always meant to be there, except that it’s a beer monolith… in a wine metropolis.  But its picturesque setting, akin to famous Napa wineries, fits right in. 

The bulk of the documentary covers the stresses of bringing the founder’s vision of the facility to the dreary outskirts of Berlin in a building that was all but a shell.  Trying to bring Greg Koch’s vision to fruition was frustratingly close to impossible.  German industriousness?  Not that I saw.  The laborers’ painstakingly slow pace of work delayed the project continuously.  Part of the problem was their well-established “slow” mentality, but the other problem revolved around how to get the workers to be motivated by the project.  The documentary suggests that because they didn’t believe in the mission of Stone brewing, they worked even slower.

Having worked on projects where the cost to turn back is greater than the added cost to move forward, I know how high tensions can run.  Here, the German construction workers knew they had Stone over a barrel—so to speak—and therefore took their time, under-produced, and missed key deadlines.  Can you blame them?  Here there’s this successful American company making beer far from anything seen in Germany (technically not even considered beer in Germany) and it wants to build this novel facility to host what it believes will be the legions of Germans it intends to convert to its cause. And they were daring to offer seating other than a boring array of picnic tables?  The contractors probably figured they should bilk the Stone crew out of as much funding as possible before the venue opened to inevitable failure.

““You’re either incompetent, or you’re lying.””

The problems posed by lackadaisical workers is further illustrated when Stone brings in an American project manager to whip the Germans into shape, revealing major cultural differences.  In Europe, time apparently doesn’t equal money.  And this only furthers the divide between Stone and the local workers.  Frustrations come to a head when Greg finally states the obvious: “You’re either incompetent, or you’re lying.”

In the end, Stone finally opens the brewery and restaurant, adorned with massive boulders in place of the German beer hall tables.  It’s a beautiful work of modern art, encompassing a fully operational brewery, meant to support the German and European market. 

The film shows they are able to begin deliveries to local bars and show the enthusiasm of the local patrons.  But there still are those (older) curmudgeons that just don’t get it.  Thank goodness for a younger generation demanding higher quality and more flavorful beverages.

And yet… the Millennials and Gen Zers aren’t enough.

SPOILER ALERT:  The film concludes with a note that the Stone project was unsuccessful.  After months of mounting losses, “the Beer Jesus” decided to sell the facility to Brew Dog, a company from Scotland (and Ohio).  Part of the deal was that Brew Dog had to continue to produce Stone beer for the European market. 

It’s a sad end to the saga, but it’s one that offers lots of lessons. I was so inspired by the film that I reached out to Greg directly.  And to my genuine shock, he was incredibly accessible. 

Stone Co-Founder and Chairman, Greg Koch, and New Scotland Spirits Co-Founder, Patrick Carey – enjoying a pint of Stone Beer.

I was able to confirm with Greg that the troubles he experienced with the Berlin location were more extreme than that of his other enterprises in the USA and worldwide.  Stone recently announced its second location in China (Beijing) opening in early 2020.  From the sounds of it, it went off without a hitch. 

The disparity in those experiences suggests that Germany, once revered as the beer king of the world, has become isolated and stagnant… allowing a country like China, that basically has had no beer culture, to openly embrace a bold company like Stone.  

This leads me to suspect a paradox:  that the more a geographical culture is keyed into a given aspect of life—whether it be coffee, food, or beer—the less open it is to new ideas.  If you don’t believe it, try telling an Italian about Seattle Coffee, a New Yorker about Chicago pizza, or a German about American craft beer… and you will know exactly what I mean.  Perhaps San Diego will be that way one day with beer?  Only time will tell.

I’m rambling.  What I’m trying to say, Jesse, is that if this film proves anything, it’s that perseverance always wins in the end when you have a quality product that doesn’t cut corners. 

Our dedication to bringing to life high quality spirits derived from the fields of our hometown, using expensive new charred barrels, and aging for extended lengths of time in line with our country’s most solemn distilling traditions, will pay off.   Sure, we could use cheap fillers in our spirits, we could source grains from outside of New York State, we could quickly age the spirit in small barrels, or we could buy someone else’s product from the depths of a grungy warehouse… but that wouldn’t be consistent with our mission.  We refuse that route, because that would make us all too similar to those trying to make a quick buck, to muscle into an emerging market of copycats and poseurs. 

To borrow a quote from hero:  “Stay the course, steady as she goes.”  Honoring the Town of New Scotland requires learning from its legacy, and recognizing that the best things in life are never rushed. 

Here’s to those who enjoy quality over crap, authenticity over imposters.  Here’s to the Town of New Scotland, the home we bring with us in each bottle of New Scotland Spirits.  Here’s to the American spirit with a New Scottish soul. 

Anyway, bud, signing off for now….
It’s been a great ride so far.

— Patrick

Vodka, White Whiskey, and Whatever-The-F**k "Moonshine" Is

Patrick:

I spent so much time researching “moonshine” after our call last night that I figured I’d share what I discovered on this blog.  So here’s my attempt at answering a few basic questions as we prepare to devise a new line of spirits:

  1. How is vodka distinct from “white” whiskey?  They’re both clear and unaged, so what’s the actual difference?

  2. How are vodka and white whiskey different from “moonshine”? And what is “moonshine” really?  Is it a vodka, a whiskey, or something else entirely?

As pertains to the first question, it seems the difference between vodka and white whiskey boils down to three things: ingredients, oak, and proof. Categorization is basically a function of slight deviations in the production process.

Put simply, vodka—unlike whiskey—can be made from a wider range of ingredients, and it doesn’t need to be aged (in oak barrels or otherwise), and it’s distilled at a higher proof. Simple enough. But why keep it simple? Let’s needlessly delve WAY into this.

* * * * * * * * * * *

INGREDIENTS
The vast majority of well-known vodkas are made from grain.  But vodka is also popularly distilled from potatoes and fruits. 

Unlike whiskey—the production process and ingredients of which are tightly regulated by law—there are no similar rules dictating or limiting what ingredients vodka distillers have to use.  (In the United States, the Code of Federal Regulations merely defines vodka as “neutral spirits so distilled, or so treated after distillation with charcoal or other materials, as to be without distinctive character, aroma, taste, or color”.  Sounds… um… tasty.)

By contrast, whiskey distillers’ choices are limited, as whiskey must be distilled from a grain.  Sure, you can find off-the-beaten path grains with which to craft your spirits—like quinoa, spelt, oats, etc.—but by legal definition, you can’t distill whiskey from such vodka staples as watermelons, cookies, potatoes, grapes, running shoes, etc.

OAK
There’s another critical restriction on whiskies.  In addition to being distilled only from grains, a grain spirit MUST “kiss” the inside of an oak barrel if it’s to be qualified as a whiskey.  If it doesn’t, the spirit cannot legally be considered whiskey. Instead, it would likely just be classified as a grain-based vodka!

  • A quick aside, Patrick… it’s worth noting that the “oak barrel” requirement is a phenomenon unique to American and Scottish law.  Other countries use the term whiskey to reference spirits aged in barrels made of other types of wood, such as maple or hickory.  According to this website, “Canadian whiskey, Irish whiskey, and Japanese whiskey only require that wood barrels are used but don’t specify that oak is the only permissible type.”

  • But I digress.

Notably, there’s no requirement for how long whiskey must age in an oak barrel to be considered a whiskey.  White (clear) whiskies are merely the result of pouring the distilled alcohol from the still into a barrel… taking a deep breath… and then immediately pouring it right the fuck back out, to be bottled and sent out into the world.

PROOF
There’s one final attribute that distinguishes a spirit as a vodka vs. a whiskey:  proof. 

As long as the spirit coming off the still is at or above 95% alcohol by volume (ABV), and as long as it is then cut with water to no less than 40% ABV when bottled, you’ve got a vodka.  That two-part determination is what classifies a spirit as a vodka. 

With whiskey, on the other hand, the spirit must be distilled at less than 95% ABV.  But just as with vodka, as long as the spirit is then cut with water during the bottling process such that it’s still above 40% ABV when bottled, it’s a whiskey. 

(From my research, it seems that if you cut a spirit to anything less than 40%, then pursuant to the legal classification, you’re just a lil’ bitch.)

TO RECAP: when it comes to proof, the spirit must exceed the 95% ABV threshold during distillation to be a vodka, whereas it cannot exceed the 95% ABV threshold during distillation to be a whiskey. (In fact, the same exact corn “vodka” could be called whiskey if it came out at the 95% ABV and was then placed in oak barrels.)

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Bet. If we know the difference between vodka and white whiskey, then what the fuck is “moonshine”?

This was the question that first drove our initial discussion, and it turns out that the confusion stems from the fact that lots of distillers and liquor companies nowadays have elected to use the term “moonshine” incorrectly as a commercial gimmick.

Here’s the bottom line:  “Moonshine” is liquor (usually whiskey or rum) made in secret (a) without getting the proper state and federal licenses to do so, (b) without paying the requisite taxes, and (c) without adhering to any of the legal (and safety!) standards governing the production of spirits.

 Or, as this site more succinctly puts it: 
Moonshine is any alcohol that’s made illegally.  If you can buy it in the store then it’s not moonshine… it’s basically just really bad Vodka. 

  • Another aside… here’s an article that conflates the actual definition of moonshine with the more gimmicky modern commercial interpretation of a clear and unaged whiskey.

  • “There are lots of products sold today that call themselves moonshine for the sake of nostalgia, tradition, and mystique. But the same product could just as easily be called white whiskey.” Preach to these liars.

Moonshine purists define the spirit as a homemade, unaged whiskey, marked by its clear color, corn base, and high alcohol content—sometimes peaking as high as 190 proof. Traditionally, it was produced in a homemade still and bottled in a mason jar. 

And there isn’t much of a difference at all between unaged whiskey and moonshine; they largely have the same production process.  But “moonshine” is distinguished from whiskey by virtue of its illegal nature, rather than being a different type of alcohol.  Under this conception, “moonshine” is just a whiskey that hasn’t been taxed… and the saga of colonial America’s refusal to pay taxes on its distilling operations is a critical part of our nation’s history that we’ll detail in future posts. 

But does moonshine have to be a whiskey? 
Nope!

Actual moonshine—the stuff you’d buy on the black market if you didn’t want to pay a tax—can be made from any fermentable substrate, from sugar to grain to stone fruit. Whatever clandestine distillers can get their hands on and want to work with (under cover of darkness, by the light of the moon—thus the term) is fair game.

Commercial liquor labeled as moonshine is typically one of two things: neutral grain spirits (of which vodka is a subcategory) or unaged whiskey. And as described above, the difference between the two options is really just the production process (primarily the proof at distillation).  

  • Recall:  Neutral spirits must be at least 95% alcohol coming off the still, whereas whiskey must be distilled to less than 95% ABV.  

  • By the way, note that the lower the proof at distillation, the more flavorful congeners carry over from the grain to the final spirit.

When it comes to commercial sellers, examine whether the “moonshine” label is proclaiming a whiskey or a vodka. If the label says “neutral spirits,” it’s not whiskey.

Is the dead horse sufficiently beaten? Let’s decapitate it for good measure.

How does one make moonshine? 
Answer: illegally.

The recipe is simple—

· Corn meal

· Sugar

· Yeast

· Water

Sometimes, other ingredients are included to add flavor or kick. (And technically, as I’ve said, though alcohol can be distilled from almost any kind of grain, virtually all moonshine made in the United States for the last 150 years has been made with corn.)

The primary aesthetic difference between “moonshine” and the whiskey you buy at the liquor store boils down to aging.  When whiskey comes out of the still, it's so clear it looks like water—and moonshiners bottle it just like that. There’s no aging process, and that’s what gives whiskey its color and mellows the harsh taste. Moonshine undergoes no such mellowing, which is why it has such a “kick”.

So why is distilling alcohol at home illegal in the first place?

“The government cites several reasons for keeping distilling illegal. First, it can be dangerous. Distilleries bring two materials into close proximity – alcohol vapor and heat sources – that can cause disastrous explosions when not managed correctly. There are also lots of impurities that can lead to all sorts of health problems… even death!

And cynically, there’s another reason: Federal excise taxes. Distilled spirits are taxed at the highest rate of any alcohol, far more than beer or wine. (A tax on spirits is the very first tax ever levied in the United States!) Naturally, the government is none too keen on surrendering its share of the revenue raised by a Nation filled with alcoholics…. And so it criminalizes any liquor production into the revenue of which it can’t sink its grubby little fingernails. (Please admire the grammatically impeccable placement of prepositions in that last sentence.)

* * * * * * * * * * * *
In summation, New Scotch Spirits will never legally sell any brand of spirit under the “moonshine” moniker. But catch us back in the woods under cover of a new moon and we might have some New Scotch “Select” to offer you. Shhhhh…….

I hope this post answers any and all questions we could ever again possibly have on such a stupid subject. I need a drink, and I don’t care whether it’s a vodka, a whiskey, or a moonshine masquerading as both.

—Jesse

U.S. to Impose A 25% Tariff on European Spirits

Patrick. Dude. Just read the articles you emailed me last night, and while I’m not saying your penchant for Old World whiskies makes you a bad person, it sure as @#$*& makes you financially reckless. The new 25% tariff that the 45th Administration is imposing on European cheese, wine, and spirits is about to make your Glenlivet habit about a quarter more expensive than it already is. And when those tariffs go into effect two weeks from now, you’ll be paying for only four bottles of Jameson what you previously paid for five.

So I have to ask: is your palette so snobbishly sensitive that you physiologically NEED imports? Like, is your wallet good luck like, bro? Didn’t realize you were so f***ing fancy. Bet.

For everyone else, the choice before you is clear: Buy American.

Wait… even better: Buy New Scottish.

Think about it: when our six brands of craft spirits hit the market beginning in 2021, we won’t just have as our competitive advantage the fact that each handcrafted production is unique; we’ll also have the benefit of better quality at a lower shelf price when contrasted against Scotches, Irish Whiskies, Russian Vodkas, Dutch Rums, and whatever it is they make in Sweden. (It’s fish, right? Don’t they make fish?)

Soon, buying American won’t just be a patriotic statement; it’ll be the savvy economic choice for sophisticated consumers in search of a nightcap.

Look, I’m not saying I support agricultural tariffs, generally… but I am saying that I’m pretty sick of Danes acting like Americans need their shitty pastries at every pointless corporate breakfast. Well guess what, Danes? Your stale and uninspired cheese danish is about to be out of my price range, so we’re gonna stick with New York bagels, Vermont cream cheese, and whiskey sourced from the Hudson Valley. That’s how you start a Monday morning at the office off right.

….What we’re we talking about?

—Jesse

Harvest Time in Old New Scotland

One of the most exciting phases of the craft spirits production process occurs at the beginning, when the farmers responsible for growing our New Scottish grain finally reap what they’ve sewn. Fall has finally arrived; it’s harvest time at Lime Kiln Farm!

Below, we’ve included a gallery of photos to give you a peak behind the curtain, so you can see how New Scotch Spirits sources the grain which gives our liquor that signature New Scotch taste!

View from combine window.

Combine seed bin.

Randy checks the flail.

First up: RYE! To harvest their rye, Randy and Rebecca Miller use a machine called a “combine”, which then deposits the grain in the combine seed bin. (For those of you striving for linguistic authenticity, in an agricultural context the word is pronounced with the emphasis on the first syllable.) Above, Randy checks the “flail” to make sure the combine isn’t leaving any rye behind; it’s a task he’s performed annually since he was a child on those very same fields, like his father and grandfather before him.

Row upon row of our bourbon’s ingredients…

Randy harvesting New Scottish corn.

Rebecca is proud of her family’s line of work, and of Lime Kiln Farm’s contributions to New Scotch Spirits. “As true ‘stewards of the land’, we utilize every part of the harvest,” she said in a recent email to me. “What we don’t give to you and Patrick ends up feeding our cattle. That’s why even the leaves of the corn are valuable to us.”

Corn from the wagon.

Cleaned and husked ears.

Shelled corn in grain auger.

Grain elevator takes the rye or corn from the wagon to the sheller.

It takes a LOT of blood, sweat, tears, and machinery to harvest our spirits’ ingredients.

Antique belt drive corn sheller

A 1953 Farmall H tractor… it’s the pride and joy of Lime Kiln Farm, and one of its hardest workers!

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. That’s the mentality underpinning the Millers’ ongoing reliance on the same machinery they’ve used to harvest grain for generations. For example, they still utilize the pulley on their 1953 Farmall H tractor to power the belt on the antique belt drive corn sheller. “It’s the only tractor on the farm that we ever purchased new,” Rebecca says. “And that was back in 1953!”

Axel scale used to weigh corn.

Subtract weight of the tractor.

Then send to the distillery!

Finally, it’s time to weigh the grain—bagged rye is depicted in these photos—so that Patrick can arrange for shipment from Lime Kiln Farm and onto the distillery, where the next phase of production (distilling!) begins. In that process, the grain you see in these pictures will be mashed and distilled, bringing the Millers’ handiwork one step closer to the taste New Scots have come to know and love!

THANKS FOR ALL YOUR HARD WORK, NEIGHBORS! When next you find yourself sipping a New Scotch bourbon, whiskey, vodka, gin, or rum, take a second to think of the Millers’ tireless labor… then toast to America’s family farmers.

How I miss old New Scotland this time of year….

—Jesse

A Blaze of Beam...

Well Patrick, this is pretty horrifying . . . .

By now I’m sure you’ve heard the news coming out of Versailles, KY, where one of the Jim Beam warehouses was reduced to a smoldering pile of rubble by a massive inferno.  And you know who started it?  God.  God started it.  With a lightning strike.  Evidently, the Heavenly Father has a slightly more refined flavor palette.      

Cynically speaking, a blaze like this might seem like cause for competitive capitalistic celebration; a major bourbon distiller’s loss of inventory can only serve to help the sales of our forthcoming Big Box Bourbon, right? 

No.  Not so in this case…. 

Even the destruction of 45,000 barrels of aging bourbon—the equivalent of nearly 2.4 million gallons and what otherwise would have been over 6 million bottles of bourbon ($150 million in lost revenue!!!)—will barely affect the bourbon market; losing an entire warehouse’s worth of spirit amounts to a rounding error for that company’s overall supply. After all, it operates another 125 warehouses in Kentucky alone. 

Yet there’s a more direct reason this incident will have no effect on our sales. 

As a craft distiller, New Scotch Spirits doesn’t compete with Beam Suntory, the Chicago-based spirits company that owns Jim Beam.  With all due respect for such a historic brand (one that is technically no longer a genuine Kentucky outfit), Jim Beam is the bourbon you cut with cola en route to getting shitty.  It’s an industrial grade bourbon, mass produced to make it to market in bulk for the legions of people who rely on it to power their nights out.  This isn’t the spirit you’d find the snob sniffing, sipping, or celebrating. 

Simply stated, those who seek out our Big Box Bourbon are looking for a more unique product with a regionally-aligned terroir.  They’re seeking the taste of standalone craftsmanship, as opposed to an ingredient with which to “activate” whatever carbonated drink they prefer. 

Ergo, I don’t see the loss of a million bottles of Beam as having any impact on our sales.  We’re practically in a different industry, selling to a different consumer.        

But that’s not why I’m writing you.  Rather, I want to make sure you’re tracking the staggering environmental damage this catastrophe has caused. 

Check this shit out…. That’s a toxic plume of whiskey chilling on the river surface like it don’t give a fuck.

dead fish.jpg

That 24-mile long alcohol plume in the Kentucky River—caused by runoff from massive firefighting efforts—has resulted in low levels of oxygen in the water and thus thousands of dead fish. It doesn’t get more apocalyptic than a giant school of drunken fishes going belly up. The Louisville Water Company even had to mobilize to secure the drinking water supply.

So let this be a lesson, Patrick. I’m not sure what that lesson is… but I feel like there’s something we should be taking away from this sordid ordeal.

Maybe it’s that Jim Beam should reconsider it’s latest brand release? Awkwardddddddd…..

— Jesse

'New Scots' come together to taste a hometown whiskey!

Patrick, dude, I wish you could’ve been there.  Just got back from my whirlwind Memorial Day tour about our hometown, and I’m pleased to report that after only 24 months, our single malt whiskey is f*%#&ing FIRE!!!

Which is to say “delicious”.  Don’t interpret “fire” as indicative of a burn, because nothing could be further from the truth; this New Scottish delicacy goes down SMOOTH. 

I mean, sure, if you thought “fire” represented the smoky aura which entices the nostrils and cuddles the taste buds, then you were spot on.  The charred interior of our oak barrels has—in just two years—packed a phenomenal aroma and flavor to our inaugural forays into this venture (as you well know).  Yet as this was the first time I’d ever tasted the product, I was overjoyed (and relieved!) to discover that we’re not just on the right track, but rather conducting this crazy train at lightspeed.

And beyond the whiskey, bro, the entire experience was just an absolutely wonderful testament to community…….

Albany Distilling Company founder John Curtin uncorks a barrel containing Auld Lang Syne Whiskey, the flagship brand of New Scotch Spirits, which has been aging in charred oak barrels since May 2017.

uncorking!.jpg

The first stop was the Albany Distilling Company (ADCo), were founders John Curtin and Rick Sicari have been warehousing our whiskey for the past two years.  Armed with hammer and chisel, he uncorked one of the barrels and then used one of this little plastic bulb syringes to extract a few pinches of whiskey.  The Altamont Enterprise & Albany County Post was even there to witness the uncorking!

Then, we conducted the “2-Year Tasting” on the second floor of the Albany Bar & Bottle Shop, ADCo’s companion retail outlet.  The corporate offices are warm, relaxed, and historic; John and Rick have cultivated a distinctly creative atmosphere.  On the long conference table, we set out a SPREAD of some of New Scotland’s best cuisine.  This was deliberate; to celebrate the achievement of our own local business, I invited a broad collective of New Scottish entrepreneurs to share in the experience and jointly enjoy the fruits of local labor. 

cheers!.jpg

Our toast to New Scotch Spirits was the perfect way to ring
in the first sips of our Auld Lang Syne single malt whiskey.

First I turned to JayCees Pizza, because it’s been my favorite food for going on 30 years.  But I also made sure to incorporate a slightly healthier component to the meal by relying on Gracie’s Kitchen—the brand new restaurant which rose from the ashes of the old Voorheesville Diner—to supply the salads and lemonade. 

Of course I turned to Indian Ladder Farms to provide the “dessert” flair to the extravaganza with their renowned and award-winning cider doughnuts.  But the real thrill was the newest addition to the Village of Voorheesville’s culinary experience: Rollin’ Smoke Handcrafted BBQ!  Proprietors Rob and Amy Carmel cook the finest handcrafted BBQ in the Capital Region from the food truck they began operating out of New Scotland in November 2018, and Rob joined us alongside 100 of his wings.

The tasting was the perfect mix of people.  Dietrich Gehring—the proprietor of Indian Ladder Farms and the farmer who provided the barley for our whiskey—brought the whole crew down from the cidery to taste the outcome of his agricultural expertise. 

Rebecca Miller of Lime Kiln Farms (our other grain supplier) stopped by for a taste, too, such that we had nearly all components of the New Scotch Spirits supply chain on-hand to celebrate our collective feat. 

Lastly, we even were joined at the last minute by Cassie Hudson of News Channel 10, who stopped by to cover our success on local television! Check out her spot on WTEN.

****************************

All in all, Patrick, it was a spectacular introduction of Auld Lang Syne, our signature single malt whiskey.  I can only imagine what this feat of community is going to taste like when we bottle and release it in 2021, after four long years of aging and effort.

So with that, I sign off… on this Memorial Day, remember that our ability to freely embark on our venture to distill spirits from the land we love is made possible by the sacrifices of those who defend our way of life.

— Jesse

Our Humble Gratitude

Just after the New Year in January 2016, I reconnected with my childhood compatriot after nearly a decade on opposite coasts. Without skipping a beat, we fell right back into plotting new projects with the same creative zeal that had united us in countless ventures throughout adolescence. Dusting off an ambition we’d discussed twenty years earlier, Patrick and I began exploring the viability of producing craft spirits distilled from grains grown right in our upstate New York hometown. It was a childhood dream we were now old enough to legally contemplate.

5.jpg

Fast forward three years and YOU have become a part of that legacy! Your support of our Kickstarter campaign has already been hugely helpful as we work to grow our production and sustain the high quality of our single malt, rye whiskey, bourbon, corn whiskey, vodka, and gin.

We don’t take your enthusiasm for granted; it sincerely means a lot to us.

Granted, we don’t view your financial support as charity, or even as a mere donation. In exchange for your contribution, you’ll receive a signed “Certificate of Authenticity” entitling you to redeem a free bottle of our inaugural flagship single malt whiskey! Though we’d intended to distribute these in 2020, we’ve decided against cutting even the slightest corner. As such, this premium whiskey will complete four full years in our oak charred barrels before it makes its way to the bottle. So expect your claimed bottle to be personally delivered to you (by either Patrick or me) in the latter half of 2021. (Or, if you’re just a bit too far away, we’ll ship them to you through one of our retailers. All we’ll ask is that you pay for shipping.)

4.jpg

Rather than mess around with merchandise, we’ve decided to grant you what you really want: our spirits! For those who contributed $50, you’ll redeem one bottle. Those who paid $100 will be entitled to two. And those who sent us $175 will be treated not just to three bottles of whiskey from our scarce first production run, but also to samples of our gin and signature vodka (handcrafted with real lemon peels!)

When Patrick and I set out to join New York’s blossoming craft distilling community, our intention was merely to create a product that celebrated our native New Scotland, the little farming town that still tears at our heartstrings. Yet the deeper we delved into this effort, the clearer it became that we had stumbled into a business—and a critical mission. It’s an honor to have you on board, and we’re so excited to treat you to the sacred taste of the special little place we still call home.

We are “the American spirit with a ‘New Scottish’ soul”—and we invite you to embrace that experience.

As always, New Scotch Spirits is:
“Nostalgia in a bottle, a good time in a glass.”

A toast to auld friendships,
Jesse