The World's Greatest Spirit

We all know what happened at this beach on June 6th, 1944.

And it’s exactly those events that my good friend Charles Neal turned to several decades ago when, as a last resort, he put a guilt trip on Mr. Camut (who wasn’t interested in selling) in what represented a Hail Mary attempt to purchase some of this incredible Calvados for export. It wasn’t one of Charles’ proudest moments as an importer, but it was effective. The Americans had stormed the beach in Normandy, eventually overthrowing the Nazi regime, and liberating France in the process. Shouldn’t that be reason for us to keep the good relations going? Shouldn’t our mutual history warrant at least a few cases of Calvados?

The rest is history. Charles became the American importer for Camut and he’s been generous enough to let me come along for the ride on many occasions. I’ve written so many times about my visits to Camut at this point that I’m running out of superlatives. I took this photo as part of a television show that I was filming in 2015. You can see the giant foudres on the left, the ancient casks that hold Calvados as old as a century, dating back multiple generations.

But there’s no point in reinventing the wheel here.

If you want to glean the excitement of my first trip, here’s that post from my old blog.

For a more editorial overview, here’s a post from the second blog I started back in the day.

I’m writing about Camut again today because I’m about to open up an entirely new customer base to what I think is, unequivocally, the best spirit in the world. As a result of dedicated spirits aficionados across the country who have venerated these brandies much like I have, the Camut Calvados expressions have become something of a rarity. Not that they were ever widely available, it’s just there is even less to go around these days. But when you write articles telling people that you’ve just tasted the best spirit of your life, it tends to generate interest. Which means fewer bottles each time someone else decides they want to join the party.

If you want to talk about loyalty, tradition, friendship, and karma; then let’s talk about the Camuts. Having worked with Jean-Gabriel and Emmanuel for over a decade now, I consider them the giant, six-foot-five, Nordic brothers I never had. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them, and they apparently feel the same way because a giant allocation of their Calvados just came to me at Mission, despite the fact that I’ve yet to establish my new company as a customer. But that’s not surprising if you know the Camuts. Part of what makes Camut Calvados the best spirit in the world for me is the fact that the people making it are some of the best people in the world.

There are indeed specific technical reasons as to why the Camut Calvados is so good. To start, the apple trees are all farmed haut-tige, meaning they’re older and taller so that livestock can live side-by-side without worrying about the cows eating all the apples. The healthy communion of natural fertilizer and a living, breathing weed killer (eater) makes for better fruit. It takes longer to raise an orchard this way, but the benefit of doing so is palpable in every sip.

The still at Camut was built by their grandfather in 1950 and it’s the same copper pot apparatus the brothers use today. Very little changes at Camut. The idea of increasing production to supply a greater demand has never been broached. This isn’t a year-round operation. The brothers make what they make, and that’s it. To me, there is no single malt whisky, Bourbon, Cognac, Tequila or rum as good as the Camut Calvados. For my money, there’s nothing this good in any category of spirit, hands down. The is the mountaintop for micro-distillation. If you’re looking for the holy grail of boutique, farm-to-glass production, it may never get as good as this.

I’ve put my personal bottles aside, and now I’m ready to offer some of these beauties to all of you. That being said, I’m not going to put these live on the site for now as I want to make sure I allocate these babies properly. So…..if you’re interested in getting a bottle for yourself, send me an email at davidd@missionliquor.com and I’ll give you the full rundown on pricing, details, tasting notes, and availability.

-David Driscoll

Four Out Of Five

Glen Oaks and Glendale are now live for pick-up orders and curbside off the web.

Sherman Oaks will be live tomorrow.

Delivery, real-time inventory, and more coming soon!

Hang with me, we’re getting it done—slowly, but surely!

-David Driscoll

G4: The Sancerre of Tequila

Why is G4 Tequila the “Sancerre of Tequila,” you ask?

Two reasons:

• Like Sancerre, G4 Tequila is crisp, clean, mineral-driven, and focused, while retaining ample fruit.

• Like Sancerre, G4 Tequila is an eye-opening respite when all you’ve ever tasted are manipulated, overly-sweet, and additive-laden alternatives.

Sancerre was the wine that got me into wine. If you don’t know what Sancerre is, it’s a village in France’s Loire Valley that makes some of the best Sauvignon Blanc in the world. Why is it so distinct? Because the vines grow on rocky slopes along the river that contain very distinct soil types, ranging from flinty Silex to chalky Kimmeridgian clay to limestone.

As a result, the grapes translate some of that very special terroir into the wine, and you can actually taste flavors of wet stone and crushed rocks in each sip. Drinking my first bottle of real Sancerre was the moment I realized wine tasting wasn’t complete bullshit. Terroir is a real thing and the best winemakers simply get out of the way and let their wines say what they have to say.

The same holds true for Tequila.

If you think Tequila is supposed to taste sweet and smooth with flavors of butterscotch and caramel on the finish, you’re not alone. There are millions of wine drinkers all over the world who think Chardonnay is supposed to taste buttery, oaky, and smooth as well.

But none of those flavors are inherent to blue agave, nor to Chardonnay. They are the result of induced secondary fermentation, oak maturation, artificial sweeteners, and sometimes artificial flavorings.

If you’re curious as to what unmanipulated Chardonnay tastes like when it’s grown under conditions similar to Sancerre, get yourself a bottle of Chablis. Grown in some of the chalkiest soils in all of France, the wines are the complete opposite of creamy and sweet; in contrast, they are tightly-wound, mineral-driven, piercingly-acidic wines that light up your taste buds with an unbridled electricity.

The same goes for real Tequila like G4.

As I was sipping on my bottle of G4 Blanco last night, I kept rolling the Tequila over my tongue, letting the spicy black pepper and saline minerality permeate my senses, the hints of mint and desert brush tickling my curiosity.

Felipe and Carlos Camarena (photo from Tequilamatchmaker.com)

It’s no coincidence that G4 is made by Felipe Camarena, brother to Carlos. Like his hermano, Felipe doesn’t believe in diffusers, manipulation, or additives when it comes to Tequila distillation. His distillery El Pandillo in Jesus-Maria has become a mecca for true Tequila fanatics and 3rd-party labels that pride themselves on selling the best juice.

What does real Tequila production entail? Much like real winemaking, it means not cutting corners and simply getting out of the way.

• Use only healthy, ripe blue agave piñas

• Cook in stone ovens (El Pandillo’s oven heats from the top and bottom for consistency in all the piñas)

• Crush in a way that doesn’t oxidize the agave before fermentation

• Do a long, healthy fermentation with good yeast

• Distill in copper pot stills

Terroir isn’t a word I often use with Tequila anymore because so much of what’s being sold is diffused and made from unripe, flavorless agave that has nothing to express. The G4 Blanco, on the otherhand, is a classic example of the Los Altos Highland style: spicy, herbaceous, mineral-driven, and fresh on the palate, but with ample fruit and weight. It’s textbook regionality, from an era when people still understood the differences between Highland and Lowland Tequilas.

If you’re looking for an easy lesson on terroir in wine, get yourself a bottle of Sancerre. Chill it, pour yourself a glass, and let the stony, mineral-rich flavors roll around on your palate.

By the same token, if you’re looking for an easy lesson on real, unadulterated Tequila that expresses the essence of Highland agave, grab yourself a bottle of the G4 Blanco.

-David Driscoll

Expanded Pick-Up Options

Please excuse the pause in the rollout of our new web features, but this holiday season was quite busy and it took all of our efforts to safely and effectively manage our in-store business.

That being said, we are now in the much slower month of January, so it’s time to continue what I came here to do: build out Mission’s website for increased shipping and pick-up options.

This past November we added Pasadena pick-up and curbside to the website and it’s taken off like gangbusters. As of this morning, we’ve added Woodland Hills to the list and soon we’ll have our other three locations up and running. This will allow you to purchase and reserve bottles for pick-up, then call for curbside delivery to your car if you want to remain outside.

In addition to that, we’ll be adding local delivery options that will drastically cut down on shipping rates while increasing expediency for those of you living locally here in LA. With COVID as widespread as it is in SoCal, we want to give you as many safe and socially-distant options as you need to feel comfortable.

I’m headed over to the Woodland Hills store this morning to start activating all the necessary steps, then I’ll be on my way to the Glendale and Glen Oaks locations to prepare for the next phases.

Exciting stuff!

-David Driscoll

The Best Wheated Bourbon You’ve Never Tried

When the whiskey revolution began, it was all about more.

And not just about more Pappy and more Weller.

It was about learning more, tasting more, finding more, and exploring more. We were thirsty. We wanted to know what else was out there. We spent hours on the internet searching through blogs and message boards to see if anyone had a new secret. We were buying more whiskey than we could drink, simply because we wanted to try as much new stuff as possible.

Today, however, the motivations have changed. The whiskey expansion of the last ten years has overloaded consumers with too many choices, overwhelmed their wallets, and sent them back to the familiar comfort of the classics. Rather than take a chance on something new, many are sticking to what’s tried and true.

Not that you can blame them. The odds of being burnt by a bad bottle are higher than ever because there’s more whiskey out there than ever; the countless one-offs and misguided efforts to capitalize on craft’s big moment have made exploring more perilous.

Ten years ago, we were looking for hidden gems from the past, hoping to find something old and overlooked. Today, we’re sifting through hundreds of young spirits, trying to figure out which new distillers actually know what they’re doing.

Having cut my teeth between 2005-2009, I’m still motivated by a desire for new blood. I still believe that numerous skilled entrepreneurs are making what will ultimately become new classics; the new whiskies that we’ll be seeking out years from now once the rest of the world catches on to their brilliance. If you’re sick of drinking the same Bourbons over and over and you’re looking to branch out from the standard Kentucky fare, let me tell you about the best wheated Bourbon you’ve probably never tried.

Some of the McKenzie Bottled in Bond Wheated Bourbon batches I’ve had from Finger Lakes Distilling in upstate New York would fool just about any Weller fan in a blind tasting. At four and a half years of age and 100 proof, I decided to taste last year’s batch against an open bottle of Weller 107 I had sitting on my counter. Mind you, I’m not one that breaks Bourbon down into commodities, looking to compare apples to apples. I just like having a nice comparison for people when I talk about new products. Tasting it side by side with the industry’s most popular bargain brand, I was mightily impressed.

“It’s taken off like gangbusters for us,” Brian McKenzie told me as we caught up over the phone recently. “We loved the whiskey and we knew it was going to be well-received, but it’s taken off more than we ever could have imagined.” It’s not hard to understand why. At around $55 a bottle, the McKenzie Wheated Bourbon is everything the craft distillation renaissance promised us, but rarely delivered. Using local grains from the New York countryside, the team at Finger Lakes Distilling has put together a mash bill of 70% corn, 20% wheat, and 10% malted barley that absolutely sings with new charred oak, baking spices, and toasted vanilla. “We’ve been making wheated Bourbon for a while,” Brian continued, “but most of it was allocated to single barrel releases. We figured it was time to make it a standard release.”

So why BIB? Why use the Bottled in Bond Act of 1897, a definition meant to protect consumers at that time from adulteration and fraud, to make a craft whiskey in the modern age? “We think Bottled in Bond is a way to help differentiate serious craft producers from others. There aren’t many craft producers out there who have 4 year old Bourbon,” Brian added, noting that a number of small producers release their whiskies while still in their infancy. The BIB requires that a whiskey be the product of a single distillation season, of a single distillery, at 100 proof, and at least 4 years of age, which certainly gives the McKenzie a boost in its authenticity. What’s interesting is that the 100 proof bottling strength is the same potency McKenzie fills its barrels at.

“Our whiskey comes off the column still with the thumper at 130 proof, but we fill our casks at 100,” Brian continued. “We tasted a number of whiskies made in the fifties and sixties from our dusty hunting collection—old Jim Beam and Wild Turkey bottles from that era. From what I understand, they were filling at lower proofs back then.”

Why fill at a lower proof? Brian explained:

“Two things: a higher water content acts as a solvent so far as pulling flavor out of the oak. I don’t think we can scientifically explain exactly what that does, but it pulls out different flavors for sure. The second thing is we use less water to cut when it’s time to proof down for bottling, which means we add hardly any water when it’s time to bottle.” 

And what about the New York maturation conditions? Is there a hot and cold contrast between seasons, similar to Kentucky?

“Our aging conditions are similar to Kentucky, but we do heat the rick house in the winter to make sure it gets ample cold and hot fluctuation, as our winters tend to last a bit longer. We’re right on Seneca Lake where there’s a microclimate that gets a little hotter compared to towns further north. It’s the same reason the vineyards around here do well, because they can survive the cold winter with the water helping to keep it temperate. The lake holds the heat from the summer time and the surrounding hills help to trap it.”

With all the care that Brian and his family put into the careful production practices, it’s clear that the wheated Bourbon mash is only one of many factors that contribute to the whiskey’s ultimate flavor. But I eventually asked Brian the same summative question that I knew most consumers would ask me: why does it taste so good? “We pay very close attention to the fermentation process,” he answered, alluding to the sweet and round flavors in the whiskey; “We make sure the conditions are ideal to prevent any negative flavors. That’s a big part of it since we don’t have much temperature control around here.” 

Given that we’re still in the midst of the Van Winkle era, the fact that McKenzie is selling a wheated Bourbon recipe certainly helps with marketing and sales, but it’s not the sole reason for the whiskey’s success. There’s simply no substitute for attention to detail, time in the barrel, and a little TLC. Good Bourbon comes from good producers. It tastes good because these guys know what they’re doing. The singularity of a secret recipe is always a sure fire marketing bullet, but the proof is in the pudding.

-David Driscoll

Winter Is The Time

Glenfarclas Distillery on a freezing Winter’s morn

Two separate events have had me thinking about Scotland in the winter lately. The first was looking at the snowy Pasadena peaks last week while driving in to work. It reminded me of my first trip to the Highlands: it was a cold morning in late February, my old co-worker David OG and I were fast asleep, and we heard a banging on our hotel room doors. It was the inn owner, letting us know that we had better get on the road north fast as there was a storm coming to the Cairngorms. We heeded his advice and no sooner were we on the road, headed over the mountain pass, when we heard on BBC radio that a truck had jackknifed due to the snow, closing off the entire road north. We had just made it.

The other event was a recent conversation with a friend about post-COVID dreams. She wanted to go to Paris in the summer of 2021 and I told her: 1) that’s probably not going to happen, and 2) she should think about going in the winter, when she could have the city to herself. Having been many times, my wife and I have come to appreciate the solitude, the access and the ease of January in Europe (not to mention the price). All you need is a down jacket and you’re fine. You wear the same black jeans every day, throw on that North Face coat with real feathers inside it, and you get to see the Mona Lisa whenever you want—no one standing in your way. The same goes for Scotland. The northern United Kingdom is beautiful in the spring, glorious in the summer, bucolic in the fall, and absolutely underrated in the winter.

A hiking path beside the Dornach Firth along Scotland’s North Sea coast

Scotland is breathtaking on a beautiful spring morning. That being said, I’ve never enjoyed drinking Scotch whisky more than on a cold, rugged, grey-skied day along the Scottish seaside; the wind whipping off the waves and the smell of sea salt strong in my nostrils. Scotland’s whisky tourism is not what it was ten years ago, when you could waltz into a distillery on a whim and get a personalized tour from the master distiller. Today, single malt tourism is big business and—during the spring/summer months—you’re often lucky if you can squeeze your way into the general group exhibitions (but who can say what it’s going to be like now). I was talking with friends who had gone to Islay in the fall of 2019, and they were complaining about the lack of customer service. I read between the lines. What they really meant was: the entire island was packed, there was nowhere to stay, and having come all the way from California we didn’t get any special treatment whatsoever.

Go to Islay in winter, however, and you’ll get treated like royalty. Make your appointments in advance, book your lodging from wherever you want, and you can expect every distillery to roll out the red carpet because you’ll likely be the only visitor they get that day. The same goes for just about everywhere else in the country. I remember visiting Glenmorangie in the dead of winter, a parka hood sealed tightly around my ears, as we took a morning stroll along the North Sea coast. It was freezing, but it was also utterly beautiful. It felt like we were the only people on Earth, allowed private access to an iconic distillery and its sweeping guesthouse grounds. Ditto for our trip that year to Glenfarclas. There was snow everywhere, the wind was howling through the dunnage warehouses, and we were pulling cask samples with our fingers half frozen. But that was half the fun! Looking back, it was one of the best days of my career.

Outside of Campbeltown

A drive to Campbeltown from Glasgow is majestic on a crisp spring morning, but it’s just as romantic on a dreary winter’s day. The contrast of grey and green along the maritime setting and the low lighting from the cloud bank can make for something out of an old Gothic novel. Get yourself in the right mindset and you can pretend you’re in your own swashbuckling adventure, taking the long and winding road through the elements before warming up with a wee dram at the local seaside pub. Try and do that in the spring and you’ll find yourself smashed in alongside a dozen Swedes, ten Germans, and a couples retreat from Denmark. But make the trip in January, and you’ll be telling jokes with the locals, getting the lowdown from the pub owner himself.

Digging through some old photos this morning, I’m feeling very nostalgic; but I’m not longing for a cold beer in a packed inn on a sunny Scottish day. I’m longing for a dram of Bowmore on a freezing Islay evening with the warm glow of the Lochside Hotel around me. I’m thinking of a foggy hike in the morning through the nearest peat bog, or a rainy drive through Glasgow as we dive into a spot in Finnieston for haggis and mashed potatoes. Traveling in the winter months isn’t for everyone, but it’s becoming more of an ideal for me personally. Like I told my friend, I’d rather be cold in an empty Paris than be hot, humid, and stuck with a miserable tour group at every turn.

-David Driscoll

News & Notes - 1/4/21

Good morning everyone and welcome to 2021: the year that every thing gets better, right?

Not so fast.

Let’s get to it:

• If you’ve been living under a rock, the wine and spirits industry is being used as foil for the Boeing/Airbus trade war between the U.S. and the EU. As a result, Scotch whisky and a number of European wines have been subject to a monster 25% tariff for most of 2020. It’s completely gutted the sales for a number of producers and we all hoped this would all go away come January of 2021. Instead, the USTR doubled down this week and added Cognac, and a number of German wines to the list. So get ready to pay 25% more for your Hennessy at some point if this all doesn’t go away soon.

• Last year, I wrote an independent article about how the real “whiskey of the year” for 2019 should have been Crown Royal Peach in a complete sweep. No whiskey had the impact that Crown Royal Peach had on sales, demand, and pop culture for that year, and in what constitutes an incredible staying power, I think the same is true for 2020. Looking at the industry growth numbers year over year, the top performing whiskey AGAIN was Crown Royal, thanks AGAIN to the incredible performance of Crown Royal Peach (and Apple). In a year decimated by COVID, the Crown still grew by 7.7% year over year, more than Jack Daniels and more than Jim Beam. To give you some context, when I go through the Mission sales queue every morning, I would estimate that one out of every three orders has Crown Royal Peach attached to it.

• In what seems like a continuation of 2020, no good deed goes unpunished. It turns out that the FDA now wants distillers who stepped up and began producing hand sanitizer for the good of the nation to now pay fees normally designated for “monograph drug facilities.” Because hand sanitizer is on the list of “over-the-counter” drugs, the FDA is dinging struggling craft distillers with a $14K fee for having operated as such. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

• That being said, apparently the Department of Health and Human Services has asked the FDA to cancel the surprise fee, so we’ll see what happens.

Given all the news right now, wait and see seems like the best approach across the board. As for me, I’ll be waiting with a stiff drink in my hand.

-David Driscoll

The Complete Singani 63 Happy Hour: Featuring Steven Soderbergh and Kevin Nash

Just before Christmas, I invited some of our Mission VIP insiders to join me, Oscar-winning director Steven Soderbergh, and WWE Hall of Famer Kevin Nash for a private Zoom happy hour to drink Singani 63 and talk about movies and wrestling.

Sound crazy? We’re just getting started, so you should definitely put your name and email into the box on the right-hand margin of this blog and become an insider. That way you won’t miss out of the next surreal Zoom happy hour.

Steven and Kevin worked together on the Magic Mike films, so they rehashed some of the stories from the shoot, talked about drinking Singani for the first time, then took an open Q&A from those on the Zoom call.

Of course, we recorded the entire thing for future use, so here’s what you do: grab a bottle of Singani 63, pour yourself a cocktail, and sit back for one of the most entertaining conversations I’ve ever had the pleasure to be part of.

-David Driscoll