Okay, Eddie, today’s selections were seriously curve balls in the trail…the trail, very apt description! Our first stop was way off the beaten path of the Frankfort and Lexington civilized distilleries. Our lady of the car (she had to phone a friend -Google Maps) was even confused, particularly when the paved road ended and the gravel roads and corn fields began. There-high on the hill the tell tale rick house in all of it black fungi glory, alerting us that we were close to The Whiskey Thief Distillery previously known as Three Bros. Distillery…yeah, it takes lots of front money and time for bourbon, the little guys don’t always make it. We rounded the corner field and there it was. A couple of buildings, a gravel parking lot and a 4 hole outhouse…so, no sewers or septic tanks and they are making bourbon. Glad I am the designated driver. Eddie explained that this was a unique concept. You (the designated drinker) gets 5 barrel pulls from five selected barrels. If you want to purchase a bottle, you pull and fill you bottle, they take it with which barrel it came from. There is no retail or wholesale market. Just a bunch of college aged kids over serving visitors. The pull is a long copper tube that is inserted into the barrel through the bung hole (such language). That tool is actually called a Whiskey Thief…betcha Eddie does not (yet) have one of those in his shop. Three Bros. went bankrupt, Whiskey Thief rebranded and reimagined how they could market their small craft bourbon in a crowded field (no pun intended). There are no tours, no discussion of the mash bill and corn to rye ratio, no staves that have been charred. Five whiskey barrels lined up on the concrete floor, each with an open bung hole and a whiskey thief sticking out. You are handed a glencairn tasting glass. These fancy little glasses are an upgrade to the glasses/Shot glasses or medicine cups used just two years ago. They are all the rage…some let you keep the glasses, some make you buy it in the gift shop. Whiskey Thief had no such gift shop (if they did not have bathrooms, a gift shop was out of the question), and had not gone to the trouble to have etched or printed logos on the glasses. Like I said, concrete floors, five barrels and a long line at 10:00 AM in the middle of no where anxious to get their taste of barrel strength (110 proof…probably). College students are eager to please so the pulls were more than the thimbles full, this was a hefty pour…Eddie had not had breakfast, George grabbed a bagel at the breakfast bar. One, two, three, four, five….you bought a bottle, let’s celebrate…six…don’t want to waste any…yikes!
Needless to say, I drove the party wagon to our next stop. Woohoo! Remember my DSP numbers thing. Since I am Eddie this trip, I made up the meaning is a previous post. It is Distilled Spirits Permit not Still. Right now a low number of DSP-KY gives you a bragging rights and that air of authenticity and history. Funny what people look for while on the trail. This about an actual named descendant of J.Mattingly that had the DSP-KY-2 (along with another fellow Bernheim who also had DSP-KY-1 by himself). Well, Jeff Mattingly decided to grab his roots and re-enter the all ready crowded market. Did he get the number back from Heaven Hill-what do you think? He is number DSP-KY-20031, nope…figure HH had something to do with the inability to grab your old number rule. We were suppose to have a tour and tasting, Eddie wanted to cut to the chase and just taste…heck he had not had a drink in a good 20 minutes, so needed to keep the party rolling. They bellied up to the bar (while I sat in the bar area seating) and did what they do best, 5 tastes and Master Card moment. Almost always the single barrel bottle…limited to 185 (plus or minus based on the Angel’s share (read Evaporation during aging) bottles. For those of you keeping score, we are the eleventh stop, two boys, 11x2+random liquor store purchases=upwards of 28 bottles…where is Amazon when you need a another carrier. Good grief. Hope Eddie lives long enough to consume all of these purchases.
Did I happen to mention that this Distillery was right across the street from Buffalo Trace Distillery (BTD is the local shorthand) -the Trail’s Mecca? George has already determined earlier in the day the bourbon of the day at the distillery is the horse topped Blanton’s, for a mere $69.99, one to the customer every 90 days. Of course we are going to get our one per customer, don’t be silly…along with about 200 other bourbon people. Looks like a Black Friday Sale at Macy’s before the internet…wild! Since they continually restocking the bourbon of the day, no standing in line, just pass through the security stop. They put a tracking chip bracelets in you in case you get lost or are too curious…oh yeah, you don’t have to pay for a tasting…read, more bourbon before food. Even Eddie passed.
Post hardy lunch-lots of bread, protein and water, the boys were ready to roll to our final stop of the day, Glenn Creek Distillery. Here again, we were off the main road, down by the banks of the Kentucky River. At the end of the road was probably the oldest and black bunch of Rick house (original 1800 brick construction) along with a blackened distillery operation. The Rick house belong to Jim Beam these days, but this serene setting was were the Old Crow distillery stood…Old Crow was the #1 whiskey in the world…Mark Twain and William Faulkner were big fans…a late change to the recipe (a la Coca Coke) in the latter part of the 20th century signal the downfall of the brand. Jim Beam purchased the operation. Old Crow is still produced by Beam, but is a bottom shelf affair as it is only aged 3 years. The distillery portion was purchased by Glenn Creek in 2013 to the be a small batch craft distillery. I don’t think anyone has cleanup since James Crow was here. The port-a-potty was a signal that I would wait in the car for this stop. The owner, Dave, was out of town on vaca….hmmm, and we paid for a tour and tasting in April…how does that work? No refund, no exchanges. Disappointed because the tour was a history lesson on the rise and fall of Old Crow along with the usual stuff. Dave and company left a kid, maybe not even drinking age, in charge of the shop. Nice kid, could repeat most of the history kinda of sorta, but lacked experience….5 more moderate medicine cups of bourbon..and the now expected purchase of the single barrel offering.
It is 2:30, our party boys have quieted down considerably. Between the Lady of the Car and I, we made it to the hotel. Eddie rallied momentary to check us in to the two room (yay) while George and I played car Jenga. Guess what happened next? Lots of water, then 3 hour naps for the boys. Looking across the table at dinner, I could see blood shot eyes, and a little throbbing temples. The party was fun while it lasted…Eddie stated that he was planning on just doing the tours on Wednesday, and not tasting….I am taking odds on that one.
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