Revisiting Glenfiddich's Older Malts

glenfiddich.jpg

Given that most of us cut our teeth on Glenfiddich when we first started drinking single malts, I don’t know many drinkers who consider Glenfiddich when they want something mature or upscale. They tend to go for Macallan or Glenmorangie or a rare single cask selection when the stakes go up. I know this because I am also one of these people. When it comes to luxury, Glenfiddich never really enters my mind.

But, having tasted through the entire line this last week with my friend David Laird, I can tell you with certainty that Glenfiddich’s value for the dollar is pretty tough to beat when it comes to the higher-end of the spectrum. Across the board the whiskies are delicious, but there were three that caught my immediate attention.

Let’s start with the Glenfiddich 21 Year at $174.95.

There are a handful of less expensive 21 year old single malt whiskies out there, but not many. What makes the Glenfiddich 21 special is that fact that it’s matured in rum casks. Not only that, but the rum that goes into the casks to season the barrels is specifically-designed by Glenfiddich for that very purpose! These aren’t random rum barrels that Glenfiddich is purchasing, mind you; Glenfiddich is crafting something very specific and has a very specific rum blend made to season the oak with a tailored flavor profile. You wanna talk about lush on the palate. This baby is like liquid silk with toffee, crème brûlée, banana, and rich vanilla. 

For years I’ve been recommending the Balvenie 14 year for whisky drinkers who want something more round and tropical-tasting, but moving forward I’ll be upselling folks to this one. It’s more than worth it.

Next, let’s talk about the ultimate bargain: the 18 Year at $86.95.

I generally consider the Glenmorangie 18 year to be the great $100 bottle of booze, but I’m going to amend that opinion today having revisited the Glenfiddich 18. This is everything I love about Sherry-matured whisky in that it isn’t all that sweet. Rather, the spice of the European oak comes out and it turns more into cocoa and hazelnuts rather than rich raisins and dark fudge. David and Mattias from Glenfiddich were telling me the Glenfiddich 18 is also great for a float on top of a Glenfiddich 12 Highball cocktail.

Guess what I’ll be drinking tonight?

Finally, let’s talk about the best new (for me) whisky I’ve had in the last six months: the 26 Year for $499.99.

Wow, wow, wow, wow…..and THEY’RE DISCONTINUING THIS???!!!

Yes, they’re discontinuing this edition of the Glenfiddich 26 year old because—get this—it’s too light in color. Apparently, it doesn’t look old enough in the bottle for those consumers that use color to determine age.

For those of you who remember the 1979 Glenfarclas cask I brought in all those years ago, this is the same thing but better. It’s aged entirely in refill American oak casks and it’s as light most 12 year old whiskies in color. But having spent 26 years in those used barrels, this is just perfection defined. It is PERFECT whisky. It’s like taking a bite out of a fresh baked eclair, the buttery, biscuity, sweet fruit notes just bursting all over your tastebuds and sending you into pure ecstasy.

I went back for thirds, fourths, and fifths on this baby, and I immediately put one of these in my bunker. This is the kind of whisky you just don’t find anymore, a throwback to a golden era when everyone let their whiskies sit in refill casks for decades and we all got to revel in that splendor. 

-David Driscoll

Brunello's Time to Shine

montalcino.jpg

As is the case with many things in life, beauty often goes unrecognized for years until one can both appreciate its context and better understand its utility. 

In my particular case, there’s a number of films, books, and records that I never really took an interest in until I hit forty. Yet, almost like flipping a switch, suddenly I have this newfound gratitude for certain genres that seemed rather boring or uninteresting only a few years ago. I seem to have more patience, more of a desire to think outside myself, and a better awareness of what’s out there.

The same goes for my recent experiences with alcohol.

I remember my first few years at K&L when everyone was freaking out about Brunello and I was completely in the dark. 2006 had been a solid vintage and, as the wines were starting to arrive, my co-workers were telling me to put cases away in my cellar. Years later, it was the same with the “vintage-of-a-lifetime” 2010 offerings, but I wasn’t there yet. The idea of spending hundreds of dollars on wines with which I had no real connection didn’t seem like something I wanted to do. I was always much more interested in Bordeaux anyway.

But, like with a 401K or IRA account, it’s always later in life that we wish we would have been more aggressive in our youth.

Flash forward to the beginning of 2020 when I went to work for Skurnik in New York and took over as the California Spirits Portfolio Manager. I had only been with the company for two months when COVID-19 shut everything down, which left me working from home for most of the year. It was during those initial months that I began stepping up my Italian cooking skills, mostly due to the tutelage of my good friend Marco Galatro from Tuscany. I was obsessed with Marco’s ragu sauce and, surprisingly, so was my normally meat-averse wife. 

Before I ramble on any further, the point is this: my diet began to change in 2020 as a result of my new-found passion for Italian cooking, and I began buying new wines as a result. Skurnik has one of the deepest Italian import portfolios in the country, so I started diving deep into the wines of Lisini, Ciacci, and Collosorbo. The more I drank, the more I realized I had completely missed the boat with Brunello.

Before I start to lose you, let me give you three quick reasons why I finally saw the light with Montalcino last year:

  • Price: The best wines from Montalcino aren’t cheap, but they cost a fraction of what the best Burgundies and Bordeaux will run you. A top-notch Brunello is not yet out of reach in the way Bordeaux’s first and second growth labels have become, as you can still drink incredibly well for $50.

  • Flavor: I still think Bordeaux is king when it comes to earth-shattering complexity, but that’s because I was raised in a Bordeaux-heavy retail environment. Lately, I have to admit, I’m turning into a serious Sangiovese fiend. Something about that soft cherry core, bolstered with that meaty, minerally note has found a home on my palate. If I’m eating pizza or pasta, I’m probably drinking Rosso di Montalcino these days. If it’s meat, I’m definitely drinking Brunello.

  • Cuisine: Let’s be honest: are you drinking old world Cabernet with anything other than steak? Because I’m not. And I’m not eating enough steak to drink all the old world Cabernet in my cellar. Sangiovese pairs beautifully with many different foods and, as I expand into different Italian dishes at home, I find that the wines from Montalcino hit the spot more often than not.

lisini.jpg

So why bring up Brunello now? Because we’re in the midst of another magical moment for the region and I don’t want any of you to miss out on these wines the way that I missed out on them back in the day.

2015 was a fantastic year for a number of producers in Montalcino, and 2016 is being hailed as the next great vintage with the hype so big at this point I’m considering putting less money into my stock market account this year, and more of it into my cellar. With a number of stellar 2015 wines in stock now, and the 2016 wines coming soon, this is the perfect time to get into the category if you’ve been on the sidelines thus far.

I grabbed a number of cases for the store this week that I think are worth your time, and I’ve preordered a bunch of 2016s in the meantime. I’m going to list a few here for the moment and I’m going to use scores from the two critics I turn to the most for Italian feedback: Eric Guido from Vinous and Monica Larner from the Wine Advocate.

Here’s what Guido wrote about Montalcino recently: “I’ve never seen this region as alive as it is today, fueled by a younger generation and the open-mindedness of an older generation which is slowly turning over responsibilities to them. Dare I say, a modern-day renaissance? What’s more, there is still remarkable value to be found in Brunello; and with a vintage like 2016 in front of us, consumers are in for a real treat.”

And Larner: “2016 Brunello di Montalcino and 2015 Brunello di Montalcino Riserva, will officially hit the market in January 2021. These wines deliver a twofold win, with classy 2016s and flashy 2015s, that speak to the best of Brunello. Brunello from 2016 and Brunello Riserva from 2015 are poised for long-term success, they will undoubtedly be remembered as important highlights on a long timeline of vintages. These are career-defining wines for many estates and for the appellation as a whole.”

Here’s my advice to you: 

  • Buy some 2015s to drink now. The wines are pretty and have a lot to offer immediately.

  • If you like them, think about investing in some of the 2016s for your cellar. These wines are going to last a decade or more and you’ll be happy you have them down the road—trust me.

2020 was the year I finally connected with Brunello. And I think 2021 is going to be the year many, many wine drinkers around the world do the same. The wines have a charm, complexity, and an ability to age that we don’t see for $40-$60 these days. They’re not over-extracted like many California Cabernets and they’re not overpriced like much of Bordeaux.

If you’re ready for the next great wine adventure, here are a few suggestions:

2015 Lisini Brunello di Montalcino $49.95 

  • 94 POINTS - VINOUS: The 2015 Brunello di Montalcino dark and rich, showing ripe black cherries and plum, with layers of haunting florals, exotic brown spice and smoky mineral tones. On the palate, a wave of polished textures wash across the senses, ushering in juicy black cherry with sweet herbal and floral undertones, with zesty spices and vibrant acidity adding a refreshing quality. The finish is long and remarkably fresh, an example of how the warmth of Sant’Angelo in Colle can be tempered by a deft hand, as fine tannins come forward, balanced by mouthwatering acidity and punctuated by residual pure red berry fruit. It’s a wine that’s very easy to love, with near term appeal and potential for the cellar. -Eric Guido

  • 94 POINTS - WINE ADVOCATE: The Lisini 2015 Brunello di Montalcino shows muscle and brawn, filling out its full-bodied frame with plenty of dark fruit, spice, tar and smoke. If you like a more concentrated style of Sangiovese, this is your wine. It offers seamless harmony and sun-drenched intensity that all work very nicely in this classic and warm vintage. You can wait, or drink it in the near-term with a rack of lamb. - Monica Larner

  • DAVID’S NOTES: Lisini is one of the reference points for Montalcino winemaking. If it were a Bordeaux estate, maybe it would be Lynch-Bages. Classic, no-frills winemaking with a cult following that has lasted for decades. There’s nothing new world or modern about these wines, but at the same time they’re incredibly pretty and well-balanced. I’ve had plenty of  “old school” Montalcino (and Bordeaux) that tasted like a wet barn after a cow took a shit. This isn’t that. I’m nosing the Lisini now as I type this and it’s glorious. There’s no mistaking the dark cherry note, but it’s layered with all sorts of other delicate aromas. There’s a nice tannic grip on the palate, but there’s still plenty of grace here. I love this.

2015 Podere Scopetine Brunello di Montalcino $49.95

  • 93 POINTS - WINE ADVOCATE: The 2015 Brunello di Montalcino unfolds slowly, showing a quiet and tempered aromatic display. Aromas of dark fruit, plum and dried cherry build in intensity. As they come into clearer view, you also catch contours of smoke, tar and balsam herb. The wine shows a soft approach in terms of mouthfeel, but that too grows with time. The wine picks up considerably more volume and width with aeration. Serve it with some aged pecorino. Only 6,800 bottles were produced. -Monica Larner

  • DAVID’S NOTES: Do you have a romantic ideal about the tiny farm in Tuscany that makes incredible wines, from a handful of hectares, in minuscule quantities, for just a handful of devoted fans? Good, so do I. That’s why I love this wine from Scopetone. Made in some of the oldest terroir in Montalcino, only 375 cases are made annually on average!! There’s almost nothing of this wine available anywhere. You wanna talk about a perfumed and savory complexity; this wine is like a trip down the terroir rabbit hole, while maintaining its soft-fruited character. 

2015 Collosorbo Brunello di Montalcino $49.95

  • 93 POINTS - VINOUS: Dusty black cherries, cinnamon, sage, dried florals and savory spice lift effortlessly from the glass, forming a bouquet that keeps me coming back again and again. The palate is laced with silky textures, along with pure ripe cherry and plum, mineral underpinnings and subtle spice. Brisk acids and fine tannins mingle, presenting a wonderfully balanced experience. The finish is long and savory, with dried cherries and minerals resonating over a coating of refined tannins punctuated by lingering spice. -Eric Guido

  • DAVID’S NOTES: If the idea of old school Brunello still sounds a bit too rustic for you, and you’re generally more of a California Cab person, then check out this riper and rounder offering from Collosorbo. It still has all the stuffing that you want from a proper Brunello, but with softer edges and more weight. Collosorbo’s estate has some of the best soils in Montalcino and an all-south-facing slope. It’s an all-female team as well—a mother and two daughters—and all the fruit is hand-harvested. Plus, you can pop this bottle tonight and really get going with this whole Brunello thing!

-David Driscoll

The Keys To Success

sleazy.jpg

What I hope I can show people is that you don’t necessarily need three chords to start a band, and it doesn’t matter what training you’ve had as long as you have inspiration, a willingness to work, and a willingness to make editorial judgements. The main difficulty with people who want to make music is that they don’t make enough editorial judgements about what’s good, how it could be better, and how to make it better.

-Peter “Sleazy” Christopherson

When I’m tasting, writing, thinking, and drinking, I tend to listen to ambient and instrumental music that helps me go deeper into my emotions. It’s a habit I started back in 2010 when I was taking long flights to Scotland and France, and was doing a lot writing on the plane. I would sit there for hours, pounding away at the keyboard, soaking up albums from Boards of Canada, College, Gold Panda, and dark wave synth stuff that taps into a strange combination of nostalgia and fear. If you want to write honestly and empathetically, your innermost joys and insecurities both need to be at the forefront.

I’ve been trying to tap back into some of that magic(k) lately, and as a result I’ve been going deep, deep, deep into Coil. If you’re unfamiliar with Peter Christopherson of Throbbing Gristle and Psychic TV, there are few musicians more capable of evoking sheer ecstasy and utter panic within the same composition. Coil, Christopherson’s third project with his life partner John Balance, was founded back in 1983 and has influenced everyone from Trent Reznor to Bjork to Nick Cave. I’ve been aware of Coil since my teenage years when I devoured industrial music like a junkie. But it has never really hit home until now.

Over the last two weeks, I’ve had two albums on repeat non-stop, having snagged them on vinyl recently: Musick To Play In The Dark and The Ape Of Naples. There is something slightly sinister at play with both works, and it bears noting Christopherson is no stranger to the occult. Not that I’m into that stuff, but it’s a powerful force for creativity here and—I’m not gonna lie—it keeps me slightly on edge. In any case, I got stuck in a wormhole of Coil interviews last night on YouTube and I listened to Peter talk about what it takes to be successful as a musician:

  • Inspiration

  • A willingness to work

  • Editorial taste

If I were teaching a course on what it takes to succeed in the wine and spirits industry, I couldn’t have said it any better.

First off, you need to love drinking in order to last in this business, otherwise why are you here? Booze must inspire you. Second, you need to work your fucking ass off in order to make an impact because there are thousands of people in this industry who think having an opinion is enough. Third, you need to be painfully aware of what constitutes quality, never avoiding the necessary editorial judgement when it comes to taste. If you simply parrot what other people think and say, what good are you?

Lastly, you need to be continually thinking about how to make things better. It should be like an itch you can never fully scratch.

-David Driscoll

Good For A Laugh

This piece about wine influencers on Wine Searcher made me chuckle this morning.

Some highlights…

True statement: if every important sommelier and critic in the world has already exalted the merits of riesling to the highest possible level and it still hasn’t made one bit of difference, do we really think self-important narcissists can do any better?

Best line: At best, the role of the influencer is to provide wafer-thin icing on an already baked cake.

It reminds me of the time a “professional” influencer told me he could get me thousands of followers and make my Instagram account “go viral” using funny videos and memes.

“How does that help me?” I asked; “I don’t get paid unless bottles go into carts and those carts move all the way through checkout.”

The best way that I can “go viral” as a retailer is to have a really good product for a really good price. Period.

And I don’t need an influencer for that. I need a product manager to work with me on pricing.

A great deal is indeed like an already baked cake. The hard part has been done. The marketing is just letting people know it’s out there.

-David Driscoll

The State of Tequila: Catching Up With Jake Lustig

jake.jpg

When I first started out in the wine and spirits industry, I thought I knew a good amount about tequila. Then I met importer and brand owner Jake Lustig and realized how little I actually knew. Whereas most aficionados at that time talked about the “burn” of a tequila, how smooth it was on the palate, and whether it did or didn’t give you a hangover, Jake talked about tequila like a winemaker. He was and continues to be my tequila mentor.

Jake told me about soil types, brix levels (of sugar), cooking techniques, and distillation practices. He broke down the differences in flavor between mountain agave and valley floor agave as if we were talking about Napa Cabernet. And he completely blew my mind with his line of ArteNOM tequilas, sourced from the best distilleries in Mexico and made with the same standards and commitment to quality that Jake himself espouses on a daily basis. I can safely say at this point that everything I know today about what constitutes good tequila, I know because of Jake Lustig.

In 2014, Jake took me to Oaxaca and Jalisco for a first-hand look at each of his producers. Back then, tequila wasn’t quite the juggernaut it’s become today, so there was still plenty of “real” stuff on the market. When I say “real” tequila, I mean tequila made without diffusers—the machine that has either completely ruined or saved the industry, depending on how you look at it. In the past seven years, however; everything has changed and it’s getting harder to determine which tequilas are made without manipulation. As a result, almost every bartender I know uses Jake’s Cimarron tequila for cocktails because it’s one of the last value options on the market that is still made without additives.

Seven years after our first trip to Mexico, I thought I would sit down with Jake for an update on where the industry is at. We caught up via phone over the weekend and a transcript of our conversation is below:

David: So where are we? As an industry, what is the state of tequila?

Jake: The industry has largely run dry of mature agave; that’s where we are.

David: What does that mean for the average consumer?

Jake: It means more tequila is being made without mature agave, i.e. diffusers.

David: Can you give me an example of what’s happening agriculturally?

Jake: Yes, I’ve made some videos about the different states of mature agave. Once an agave is an adult there are five stages, so I went around to my cultivator/producers including Enrique Fonseca to take some footage and document the evolution. Can you believe it took us hours to find one single overripe agave? Typically an artisan producer will have anywhere from five to fifteen percent overripe agave in the mix, but they’re just gone already this season, being used up as quickly as they’re deemed overripe.

David: So this means everyone is harvesting at the minimum possible maturity?

Jake: Yes. At the end of this last rainy season they took everything out of the ground that they could. There’s no overripe agave anywhere. It’s slim pickings even for mature agave at 24-26 brix. Patron is still not using additives, nor are they diffusing, but they have been expanding their operation and sucking up much of the available mature agave in the process. Don Julio is now cutting with diffuser spirits and the rumor is that other historically-traditional producers have now moved over to diffusers.

David: It sounds like there are going to be some difficult choices ahead, as even the industry’s top tequilas are being forced to change their quality standards due to a lack of available produce.

Jake: It’s not even an economic choice anymore. The tail is wagging the dog. People didn’t plant enough agave—pure and simple. Everywhere you look there’s two year old, three year old, and three and a half year old agave. And coincidentally, diffusers use two year old, three year old, and three and a half year old agave, so go figure.

David: What’s the old line you used to say about not needing agave to make tequila in the future? 

Jake: It’s from a Cuervo agave buyer, told to Enrique Fonseca’s father in the early 1980’s: We just need to figure out how to make tequila without agave. That’s what he used to tell my partner. Not one of their tequilas is made with mature agave at this point, and for that reason Cuervo is closing the La Laja plant; known as Los Camichines, where they’ve been making Reserva de la Familia. It’s the last Cuervo distillery to not use a diffuser. That’s where they used the best and most mature agave for the last products that weren’t diffuser-based.

David: It sounds like the industry is being swallowed up by diffusers.

Jake: Right, so back to the question: where is the industry? An extremely small subset of cultivator/producers are cornered. Everything is either big brand or celebrity-driven tequila. There are three legs on that stool: the money leg, the route-to-market leg, and the marketing leg. If the marketing leg does its job, why would anyone make tequila without a diffuser when it’s so much cheaper? The route-to-market leg, however, says we need the quality and the flavor in order to sell it. Then the money leg says: well then why not get a celebrity like George Clooney or Dwayne Johnson to help? Clearly, we can use the diffuser Tequila that’s 80% cheaper and use the celebrity endorsement as our way to market.

David: Clearly, that’s exactly what’s happening. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a celebrity-endorsed tequila that wasn’t diffused.

Jake: That’s a big piece of the industry now with Casamigos doing so well. Especially during the COVID era with everything being pushed to off-premise now that bars and restaurants are closed. We’re all just speaking to our own audiences now. The top brands are exploding. I’m getting contacted once every few weeks about doing a celebrity tequila with some of my producers, but you can’t go to a distillery now like you could a few years ago and find a mature agave tequila to buy. They’ll make it for you, but they’ll ask if you have your own agave to do it with because they don’t have access anymore.

David: What are the ArteNOM producers saying about all this?

Jake: Someone like Enrique Fonseca or Felipe Camarena believes that there will always be a need for mature agave, and they’ll just maintain their role outside the new focus of the industry. 

David: Don’t you find it ridiculous that traditional tequila made with mature agave is now considered outside the norm? I guess it’s like being a corn farmer that doesn’t use Monsanto these days.

Jake: Yes, but—man—they are the belles of the ball now! Felipe Camarena of G4 now has a line out the door of people who want to do projects with him. There are so few additive-free distillers out there and they have so little ripe agave available that their tequilas are at a premium right now. But there’s so little work being done to explain these points of differentiation. No one is up to date on this message. 

David: Well that’s what we’re here to do! It’s sort of like single barrels right now. Everything has been picked over and there’s not much to get excited about.

Jake: Right, there’s not much new to be excited about. Are you getting the fruit flavors when you taste a new tequila? Are you getting the notes of cinnamon that come from the inclusion of overripe agave in the recipe? You’re not.

David: I’m sad. What else is going on?

Jake: Everyone was hoping for the price of agave to get so high that the bubble would burst and the prices would come down. But that hasn’t happened, so as a result fewer tequilas are going into barrel because they’re rushing fresh distillate to market. Reposados now are like the red-headed stepchildren of producers. The barrel maturation isn’t fast enough to market to make money, and the tequila itself isn’t old enough to charge more. You’re going to see reposado dry up as a category on the market very soon. There are very few good ones out there at the moment.

David: How are you feeling about all of this? Are you feeling secure in your relationships with producers?

Jake: Everyone is handling it differently, but they’re definitely sweating it. Who can you go to anymore? Who is doing anything interesting?

David: That’s my question for you!

Jake: I like to research the history of tequila for new ideas, so what I wanted to do was dump some of my Don Amado mezcal barrels, rush them to Jalisco while the barrels were still wet, and fill them with valley-floor Cascahuín blanco at a higher proof. We’re conditioning the tequila for 25-28 days, so it’s like flash aging. It’s not 60 days like what’s required for reposado, so it’s still considered blanco. The Don Amado barrels are American white oak, first used for Mexican brandy, then used for mezcal, then used for tequila. That’s my version of blanco histórico.  

David: What made you want to do that?

Jake: If you made a Venn diagram of agave flavors, you would have minerality and citrus on one side and sweetness with baking spices on the other. When you look at the historical records, you can see that the Camarena family was one of the first to bring agave to the highlands. For the entire 19th century, almost all tequila came from the lowland valley. But were they barrel aging it? Not really. They were storing the tequila in large wooden vats called tonéles in Spanish or pipones. You wouldn’t get too much wood contact, but what you would get was oxidation and settling. There wasn’t much color, but it would still be rested, or reposado.

David: That sounds like a fun project!

Jake: I have an old friend who told me the future of our industry isn’t about brands, but rather interesting projects and one-offs.

David: Who could that have been?

Jake: Some asshole.

David: HA! I’m honored. Is that it? Is that the state of the tequila industry?

Jake: So you’ve got the end of mature agave, the rise of new celebrity brands, the dominance of diffusers, and the growing irrelevance of Regulatory Council certified products. You’ve got more products like Cinco Sentidos and Caballito Cererro that are making what is in essence mezcal and tequila, but they’re distilling in areas not certified or using types of agave that are not allowed, so they have to call it simply destilado de agave. It’s all uncertified, but people love it.

David: That takes a lot of education though because you can’t put the names mezcal or tequila on the label, so a number of consumers get confused. Not that we can’t help educate, but it’s an uphill battle. Have you found anyone or tasted anything in that realm that you might partner with?

Jake: No, but that doesn’t mean they’re not out there. I haven’t been traveling or keeping up with what’s happening in Mexico over the last year, but hopefully I can get back out there soon and keep my ear to the ground.

-David Driscoll

The World's Greatest Spirit

dday.jpg

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?

camut1.jpg

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.

camut2.jpg

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.

camut3.jpg

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.

camut4.jpg

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.

camut6.jpg

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

G4: The Sancerre of Tequila

g4image.jpg

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)

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