Playing Catch Up

When you work in distribution and importation, you get to try a lot of booze. Unfortunately, 99.9% of it is the booze in your portfolio and little else. It’s a stark contrast to retail where you get to try everything, from every producer, in every portfolio sold in the state you do business in.

When I first worked in retail between 2007 - 2018, I was tasting upwards of sixty new products a day. But for the last two and half years I’ve been siloed, without access to the broader market. Knowing that I was heading back to retail in the interim, I began reaching out last month to friends and suppliers in California to start playing catch up.

While blowing through countless bottles of single malt, there were two whiskies (new to me) that absolutely knocked my socks off. One more than the other, but both are simply divine. Let’s start with the GlenAllachie 12 year:

• WHY: GlenAllachie 12 is the richest, fruitiest, most mouth-coating sherry-aged 12 year old single malt on the market right now. It’s like liquid milk chocolate on the palate and the price is absolutely right.

• HOW: Using a combination of PX Sherry, Oloroso Sherry, and Virgin Oak casks, Billy Walker (of GlenDronach and Benriach fame) has found the literal sweet spot with this fantastic release. It meanders from cakebread to ginger snaps, but it’s the unmistakable note of chocolate on the finish that seals the deal.

• WHAT: GlenAllachie Distillery, formerly part of the Chivas Blended empire, was purchased in 2017 by an independent group who immediately brought in veteran Billy Walker to put his mark on the malts. The entire line-up was revamped in 2018 and an exciting array of new releases has been coming since. The 12 year is bottled at 46% ABV.

Simply put: if you like Macallan 12, then you’re really going to like GlenAllachie 12.

If you like GlenDronach 12, then you’re really going to like GlenAllachie 12.

I’ve been drinking it non-stop since I first got the bottle and, no matter what mood I’m in, this whisky delivers the goods every single time. My wife bought a bag of Italian chocolate cookies from Eataly last week and I about died after that pairing. I couldn’t stop eating more cookies and drinking more GlenAllachie because it was so damn delicious. The sherry flavors are never bitter, or tannic, or over the top in any way. Ultimately, it’s the balance of this whisky that’s so utterly impressive. There are no rough edges and nothing is out of place.

Case in point: you need this in your life. Get a bottle now. Maybe even get two. Your mouth will thank you.

Now let’s talk about the new Kilchoman “Am Bùrach,” which means “a mess” in Gaelic. We’ll get to the story in a minute, but let me tell you first: this whisky is far from a mess. It’s my new go-to Islay malt and it’s the one whisky in my collection that continues to wow my socially-distanced guests when I pour it for them during our backyard tasting sessions. Here’s the scoop:

• WHY: Because the combination of sweet and peat, when done well, is one of the most enticing and intoxicating flavors in the world of whisky, and the Kilchoman “Am Bùrach” is a masterful marriage of soft, supple fruit flavors and potent Islay peat smoke.

• HOW: A batch of Kilchoman “Machir Bay,” matured in Bourbon and Sherry, was accidentally vatted together with the Port-matured Kilchoman, so it took additional maturation of six years in Bourbon barrels and a six month finishing in ruby Port casks to round out the mistake.

  WHAT: The resulting “mess” is roughly 10,500 bottles of 9 year old Kilchoman, bottled at 46% ABV, matured three different types of casks, multiple times!

There was a time when I would tell customers to splurge on a bottle of Lagavulin 16 or Talisker 18 to get a real idea of the pleasure that peated island whisky could deliver. Today, however, given the price hikes, the tariffs, and the general decline in the price-to-flavor ratio, I’m switching my allegiance to the Am Bùrach. It’s not cheap at $129.95, but for the extra dough you’re getting a true crowd pleaser that will have you going back for seconds and thirds.

Kilchoman’s small scale of production and even smaller heart cuts (the portion of the whisky that is kept during distillation) have proven time and time again to work. When I say “work,” I mean that Kilchoman is able to create whiskies of impeccable quality at an age much younger than its Islay competitors. That process costs more for the consumer, but as I’ve personally experienced many times, Kilchoman’s whiskies are often more potent, more concentrated, and more delicious than many of the genre’s older expressions.

If you’re a fan of sweet peat, this is a home run. If you’re a fan of Islay whiskies, this is the best tasting new Islay whisky I’ve had this year. The nose is a hedonistic splendor of butterscotch melting over a peat fire. The sweetness from the Port on the palate rounds out the entry, softening the journey for the rest of the elements: salt, smoke, fresh peat, caramel, and cherries.

YUM……

-David Driscoll

The Indiana Jones of Mezcal Has Come to California

If you haven’t figured it out already, agave products are booming at retail. Whether it’s because of pop culture trends, health reasons (some people think agave spirits process through the body more cleanly), a growing interest in Mexican food and culture, or all of the above, there’s no getting around the fact that more retailers are pulling the trigger on Tequila and mezcal these days. The sales numbers are truly staggering.

As any spirits category begins to grow and a wider selection becomes available, customers begin asking questions like: “What’s the best?” or “What should I be looking for when I’m in the mood for something special?”

In the case of mezcal, higher prices don’t necessarily mean better flavor. But in many instances, when a bottle of mezcal costs $100 or more, it’s usually because the spirit itself is distilled from a type of wild agave. Whereas Tequila is always made from cultivated blue agave, and the large majority of standard-labeled mezcals are made from cultivated Espadín, wild mezcal distillates are made from rare types of agave that must be foraged for and searched out. Almost like truffles.

Then they have to be transported from the various locations where they’ve been discovered back to the palenque, often down mountain slopes and through treacherous terrain. And agave piñas are HEAVY! Hence, the work is difficult. That’s what you’re paying for.

But do they taste better? Sometimes. Sometimes not. It all depends on the distiller, the harvest of agave, and the process. Even then, there’s often huge variation from batch to batch, so you really have to do your research and taste as much as possible in order to develop your taste preferences.

However, if you don’t have time for all that fun and you’re looking for something truly special—an expression of agave that explodes with flavor on the palate and keeps you coming back again and again—then I have the bottle for you.

We just received a few cases of the new Pal’Alma Aguardiente de Agave “Salmiana” uncertified mezcal last week. It’s not labeled as mezcal because it was doesn’t adhere to the official DO requirements (think of Champagne made outside of the region of Champagne or from different grapes).

So why the fuss?

Pal’Alma is the export brand for Almamezcalera, the bottling label from Mexico City’s notorious “Indiana Jones of Agave” Erick Rodriguez. Equal parts historian and adventurer, Erick travels to remote production sites all over Mexico and is deeply committed to local traditions that are rooted in rustic ingenuity. His collaborators are all bonafide local legends in their own right, and—to make things even cooler—Erick only works with a single mezcalero in each state! Several of them, such as Nuevo León and Sonora, are not currently acknowledged under the “Mezcal” Denomination of Origin, so Erick bottles tiny batches of truly thrilling, uncertified agave distillates. Let’s take the current release as an example: the Salmiana from San Luis Potosi, a state in central Mexico, just northeast of Jalisco.

The first batch of Pal’Alma’s uncertified mezcal (or Aguardiente de Agave) is distilled from Salmiana agave, which grows around 6,000 feet above sea level. Known for its thick dark leaves, which curve and twist as they mature, it can grow to more than seven feet wide and tall, taking anywhere from 12 to 25 years to reach maturity. Erick works with Maestro Patricio Hernandez, who cooks the piñas in a stone oven, then mills the cooked agave using a traditional tahona.

But here’s the kicker.

During fermentation, roughly 30% fresh pulque is added to the crushed agave in a pine vat, almost like adding sour mash into your Bourbon mash bill. After eight days, the resulting fermented ‘tepache’ is distilled twice in a copper pot, using a condenser to further rectify the spirit. It bursts with bell peppers and fresh leather on the nose, bolstered on the palate by the creamy lactic notes for which Salmiana is famous, and a racy edge the that reminds us it was distilled using sharp, light pulque. On the finish you’ve got cracked peppercorns and a hint of pine with loads of citrus and spice. It is spectacular stuff, by far the most impressive agave spirit in my home bar.

And get this: Erick’s selections were previously presented only at his small, appointment-only tasting room in DF, and as exclusive batches with iconic venues like Omar Hernandez Gallery in Oaxaca and Pujol in Mexico City. They are coveted by mezcal aficionados around the world, especially because you had to meet with him directly to buy a bottle. You literally had to make an appointment and fly to Mexico CIty in order to get one!

We’re very lucky to now have access to Pal’Alma here in California and, for you lucky customers, we’ve got them on the shelf at Mission. If Erick is the Indiana Jones of mezcal, then this Salmiana edition is very much the holy grail of agave spirits.

-David Driscoll

Drinking to Drink: A Mission Booze Blog Primer

If you woke up tomorrow and all of your followers were gone, could you go back to being you?

That’s what a recent Netflix documentary about social media asked its viewers. It’s a line that’s been stuck in my head since I first watched it because it’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do for the last two years: go back to being a guy who just likes to drink and have a good time. In the Spring of 2018, after more than a decade of working wine and spirits retail, writing daily a blog about alcohol, researching new brands, and making the study of booze my end-all be-all, I decided to quit. In the wake of one difficult decision, all of my social media followers were effectively gone overnight. Yet, as the question above alludes to, it’s not always easy to transition from having thousands of people asking you for your advice one day, to having absolutely no one care about your opinion the next.

For those of us who obsess over booze, why it tastes the way it does and where we can find our next exciting fix, the curation of alcohol impacts our daily life. Everything in my world revolved around what I was going to drink that day, and the diversity of what was in my liquor cabinet was like a global passport. There was something new and interesting on the menu every night because my generation had completely eschewed brand loyalty in the name of drinking better stuff, searching out the most exciting new drinks from the world at large. Yet, in a twist of irony, our endeavors made us even more label conscious than our predecessors—without any of the loyalty. 

What does that mean exactly? It means that rather than stick to our favorite brands like our parents did, we became devotees of the data—and there’s a lot of data to mine in the booze world. Instead of asking the bartender for a pour of our favorite label, we asked if there were any whiskies on the menu above 52% ABV, ten years or older? We thought the specs would help us weed out the good stuff from the mediocre because understanding the data points of alcohol helps create a simplified formula for quality assessment. And it did. At first. 

As time went by, however, I had more customers asking me about the numbers on the label than the actual liquid in the bottle, as if they could crunch those numbers into a qualitative calculation from just the specs alone. Pretty soon, finding a new whiskey seemed to be more about winning than drinking. Winning a debate. Winning a contest. Winning the internet. With data.

To me, however, turning alcohol into hard statistics always made me feel like I was losing. Losing my passion. Losing my career. Losing myself. 

For the last two and a half years, I’ve been working behind the scenes with bartenders, restaurants, and various retailers, trying to figure out if anyone still cares about flavor. It used to be that we tasted something, decided whether we liked it, then worked backward to figure out why. Our exploration started with enjoyment and ended with intellectual fulfillment. Today, however, many of us have flipped that approach, impacting our ability to simply enjoy our beverages. I’ve met and known many a drinker who, before even tasting a spirit, has already made up his or her mind as to whether it’s worth drinking.

What’s the ABV? 43%? Too low.

What’s the age? 7 years? Too young.

What’s the percentage of rye in the mash bill? 13%? Too bland.

How many bottles did they make? 10,000? Too many.

We tell ourselves we’re simply investigating a potential new purchase, using data to drive our decision making, but instead I feel we’re boxing ourselves into a prejudice. In deciding whether a product has merit before we’ve yet raised it our lips, we’re making judgement calls about quality based on numbers rather than our own taste buds. It’s no different than buying a wine based solely on a 90+ point score.

That’s not to say that one can’t determine a number of characteristics about wine or whiskey based on hard data, like the level of alcohol or the age and vintage. It’s true that these numbers give us an early idea towards the likelihood of our eventual appreciation; hence, their importance to the modern consumer. But I think flavor itself is getting lost in all the math. Higher numbers, like age statements and ABVs, equate to higher prices, regardless of whether they actually taste better. Because consumers have now been conditioned to seek out these specifics, booze companies know they can charge more for something based on stats rather than flavor. That’s why there are so many mediocre whiskies out there from a single barrel at cask strength that would have tasted much better as part of a larger blend.

Flavor is becoming less relevant to wine and spirits marketing because it’s hard to quantify (that’s why the 100 point Parker system exists). Personal taste is subjective, so it’s increasingly tossed aside for numbers that are easier to sell. Flavor also can’t be captured in a photo and plastered all over Instagram as a bragging point for the validation of others; we need something more concrete that can generate likes and retweets. As the aforementioned documentary points out: the dark path to despair on social media begins when you start to believe your happiness depends on the approval of strangers. I would argue that the same dangers have become prevalent in the world of wine and spirits, where drinkers are increasingly anxious about how their beverage rates online.

I think a large number of consumers are ready for a reboot, or a back-to-basics approach that puts drinking at the center and flavor at the forefront. That’s why returning to retail with Mission Wine & Spirits and working with real consumers once again has me so excited. Our team is driven by a genuine passion for great tasting products and we love sharing that enthusiasm with our customers. We’ll have all the data too, but it will always point back to flavor and why exactly you might want to try something new and delicious. Mission carries just about everything, which means I have a lot of catching up to do (and a lot of product descriptions to start writing), but there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here, with this company, doing what we do best. 

To answer the initial question posed about social media: yes, you can go back to being you once you lose all your followers. You can also go back to a time when alcohol was something you looked forward to, rather than something you agonized about after spending two hours on Reddit arguing with a bunch of geeks. You can drink alcohol just to drink it, without the perfect food pairing or a three course meal. You can add ice if you want. You can drink from a plastic cup. You can do whatever you want because ultimately this is life, not a competition. Data does not equate to happiness. If you’re not enjoying yourself, you don’t win. 

Alcohol should taste good and make you happy—pure and simple. To paraphrase Marie Kondo, the act of drinking should spark joy. If it doesn’t, you need to get rid of the clutter. That’s what this blog is here to help you do.

If reading this initial entry has you thinking to yourself: who in the hell cares this much about alcohol?! That’s fantastic. Don’t change. We’ll keep you up to speed with some fun stuff here at our new site. But if you’re looking to get the most out of each bottle you purchase, I’m here to help make drinking a bit more fun. It starts right now.

Welcome to the new booze blog.

-David Driscoll