Barrel Selections In The COVID Era

As you might imagine, there aren’t many retailers heading out to Kentucky right now to select single barrels. As you also might imagine, that doesn’t mean Kentucky distillers have stopped trying to sell them.

How does one select a barrel in today’s COVID era? Pretty easily. They send you samples in the mail and you pick the one you like (to be honest, that’s how most retailers were doing it before COVID, as well).

But what about something like the Maker’s 46 single barrel program, an intensely-personalized process that involves hours of blending in order to replicate what a custom-designed ten stave expression might ultimately taste like?

That’s a little more difficult to pull off. But because I wholeheartedly believe the Maker’s 46 single cask program is the best thing going in Kentucky right now, I wanted to make it happen for Mission. That’s why, this past Friday, Phil and the gang from Beam came over to my backyard for an appropriately-distanced and socially-safe blending session.

Maker’s 46 might be one of the most misunderstood Bourbons on the market today, so before going any further let me catch anyone up who may be out of the loop. What Maker’s did with the 46 expression is insert ten additional French oak staves into a specially-designed barrel and finish the traditional Maker’s Mark for an extended period, adding extra oak contact to intensify the flavor of the whiskey. The flavors of French oak are decidedly different than American oak, so the whiskey gained a complexity of spice and richness from that process.

What Maker’s has done with its customized 46 barrel program allows retailers like myself to select from four additional staves—in addition to the 46 French oak stave—and use those staves in any combination we want. You can select two of each type for a total of ten, or even ten of a single type (which I’ve done in the past). You have complete control over the type and combination you want to use.

In order to replicate what your barrel might ultimately taste like, Beam brings along barrel samples from casks that have been finished with one single stave type. By blending those whiskies together with the approximate proportions (10ml for each stave), you can build to a 100ml sample depending on the combination of staves you select. If you look in the background on my patio table, you’ll see there are poker chips and slotted staves, which is how we keep track of each sample—you put ten chips on to each stave that represent which ones you’ve selected.

Not only is it SUPER fun to do, it’s quite educational as a blending exercise and Maker’s is always updating the stave selection. This past Friday, we were actually the first to use the new Mendiant chocolate stave, which has replaced the roasted mocha stave. I ended up using three of those Mendiant staves to add deep, dark bass notes to what ultimately should be a rich and spicy cask strength barrel pick. I’m very excited to see how our first Mission barrel turns out.

Before leaving, my friend Jaime from Beam gave me a bottle of Maker’s cask strength to try with the new Fever Tree Spiced Orange Ginger Ale. I dusted that bottle in 48 hours (with help). I am utterly OBSESSED with the new Fever Tree Orange Spiced Ginger Ale and the way that it plays with Bourbon.

As a guy who likes ginger beer as a cocktail ingredient in general—Moscow Mule, Dark & Stormy, etc—this was an unexpected development that is going to drastically increase my consumption this month. It’s all I can think about.

That and the fact that Maker’s Cask Strength is still one the best whiskies on the market at any price.

-David Driscoll

Modern Obsession

Where would I be without the internet? I suppose we roam on the internet because we aren't able to find in our physical lives the human connection we need for survival. So we search endlessly online alone.

-From Elisa Lam’s Tumblr account

I could not wait to watch Netflix’s new season of Crime Scene last night, having followed the Elisa Lam case at the Hotel Cecil. I won’t spoil any of the major details if you’re unfamiliar with the tragedy, but having lost several friends to severe bi-polar disorder I was affected in a personal way by the story.

Yet, while I was engrossed in the case and wanted to know more, my interest was nothing compared to the army of amateur web sleuths who internalized the Lam disappearance and made it their life’s focus to find out what “really” happened. Finishing the series, I ended up even more affected by how frighteningly easy it was for hundreds of people all over the world to claim authority over the details, devolve into conspiracy theories, and attack those who disagreed with them—from thousands of miles away, with absolutely no professional detective experience and no direct involvement in the case.

As I fell asleep last night, I was more jarred by the obsessive behavior and self-importance of the amateur crime enthusiasts than the crime itself.

Where would I be without the internet? At complete peace.

-David Driscoll

The Last Hurdle

I’ve had to re-establish a number of old relationships in a relatively short period of time since joining Mission. “Hey, I’m back in retail. Let’s do some business!”

Which always begs the question: If you love retail so much, why did you decide to get out back in 2018?

They’re asking because they think it was industry-related, mind you; not because they’re interested in my own personal journey or motivations. Maybe I knew an important detail about where business is headed and made an economically strategic decision.

But I didn’t leave K&L back in 2018 because of any conflict, or job forecasting, or any downturn in my career. I left because I had lost my passion for this business.

Why did retail stop being fun, you ask? Because of automation.

It turns out you can make a lot more money by mining for Parker points than advocating for products you believe in. That’s where our industry is heading: algorithms that crunch 90+ point Wine Spectator scores for less than $30, and auto-generate marketing emails. In today’s web-based retail world, the business that can best automate the advertising of alcohol into an easily digestible and computable format is the one that wins. The proof is in the pudding.

But when an algorithm based on numerical scores starts to render your personal relationships obsolete, it takes the fun out of working with wine and spirits. I’m someone who has always believed in the human element of retail and the passion of people to sell a product, so the chance to come back and do it that way at Mission was too much to resist.

But there’s been one major hurdle to my relationship building since I took the reins as sales manager this past November—one that stands as a stark contrast to my customer service beliefs, and that represents the opposite end of the automation spectrum. Regardless of whether you have zero automation or full automation of your sales model, there are always bottles that fall into a grey area in terms of their distribution. You all know what I’m talking about: Pappy, Stagg, Blanton’s, etc. These bottles require extra work because of how sensitive they have become for today’s consumers.

Because of the extra work, the public distribution of these bottles is often done by retailers in one of two ways: automated release or marked-up prices.

If you automate a fair sales process for these bottles, people get pissed because they’re not as tech savvy as the faster customers and they miss out time and time again. Why would you give this type of retailer your money if they can’t look out for you now and then? Do they not care about your relationship as a consumer? There’s no loyalty. The fastest fingers win.

If you take the even lazier route and mark the prices up based on demand, you make more people even more angry! Why give someone your money who just takes advantage of the short market, rather than rewarding you for your business? If they’re gouging you on Blanton’s, what else might they be gouging you on? There’s no trust. The highest bidder wins.

As with most solutions in life, the answer lies in the middle: you interject a human element to the sales model that takes into consideration the customer and the situation.

The problem with my customer service sales model is that:

1. It takes extra work

2. It can’t be automated

In order to fairly distribute your best and rarest bottles of Bourbon, you need to know your customers. That means spending time looking at their sales histories, getting to know their interests via email, communicating with them personally when you can or can’t help them out, and then explaining the circumstances so that they understand they are still valued customers even if you can’t get them a bottle of Pappy this time around.

Like I said, this way of doing business takes a lot of extra effort, but you do it because you want to. You do it because you know it’s the right thing to do as a human looking out for other humans. At Mission, there’s never been a process for this type of customer outreach; hence historically we’ve sold these whiskies at prices that reflect the modern supply and demand. As a result, we’ve garnered a negative reputation among Bourbon consumers who don’t trust our prices or our policies (even when 99% of our other prices are more than competitive and fair). And we’ve deserved it.

No retailer will ever convince consumers they have their best interests at heart until they can prove it across the board. That’s why you’re going to see some drastic changes happening in the near future with how we price, sell, and allocate these rare whiskies. If you’re interested in knowing more about how we plan on doing that, I’d put your name and email into the box on the right side of this blog and sign up for my insider email list.

This is the last hurdle for us to clear. After this, it’s time to sprint.

-David Driscoll

Moutai Is Now A Half-Trillion Dollar Company

About three months ago, I posted an article about baijiu. My goal was to show western drinkers that the booze world in China was the next big thing; or rather already the big thing, because—bottle for bottle—baijiu is the most consumed spirit on the planet.

To pile on to my previous sentiment, I give you this article from the Wall Street Journal.

Kweichow Moutai Co. , the best-known distiller of the fiery Chinese spirit baijiu, has risen to a market value of more than half a trillion dollars, making it the most visible symbol of investor euphoria in China.

Moutai shares closed at a record high Wednesday, on the last trading day before a weeklong Lunar New Year holiday. They have more than doubled in the past 12 months, gaining more than 30% since the start of 2021.

The rally has turned the liquor company into one of the world’s most valuable consumer-goods companies, outstripping giants such as Procter & Gamble Co. , Nestlé SA and LVMH Moët Hennessy Louis Vuitton SE .

It is now roughly as important to the Chinese market as Apple Inc. is in the U.S., accounting for 7.3% of the Shanghai Composite Index while Apple makes up about 6.7% of the S&P 500.

And yet 99.9% of drinkers I know have never even heard of Moutai, let alone tried it.

Like I said before, if you’re looking for the next great spirits adventure, it’s happening in China.

-David Driscoll

Instagram Live Repost: Talking Cognac & Armagnac With Charles Neal

I’ve been traveling to France with Charles Neal for almost ten years, scouring the countryside for small producers that make some pretty incredible (and affordable!) brandies.

Now we’re finally bringing the old dog and pony show to Mission! Watch for a TON of new exclusive brandies to hit the web within the next week, including super old expressions from Goudoulin, Ognoas, and more.

And in the meantime, check out this introductory conversation. Thirty minutes isn’t really enough time to get deep into the subject matter, but it’s a great place to start.

-David Driscoll

California Terroir

A vineyard outside Howell Mountain in Napa

While visiting family in the Bay Area last year (pre-COVID), my wife and I decided to take 101 South on the way back to Los Angeles, stopping at some of our favorite towns along the Central Coast on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. We had lunch in Paso Robles and—being that I try my best to drink locally wherever I am—I decided to order a glass of white wine from one of the nearby producers. It wasn’t all that great, but then again my expectations weren’t all that high. No matter how much I want to support my winemaking neighbors here in California, my taste skews towards the Old World. I like acid. I like balance. And I’m still fascinated by terroir.

Not the idea of terroir, mind you; paraphrasing the ever-hilarious Stuff White People like by Christian Lander. Considering it’s become a measuring stick for people who think “complexity” is the pinnacle of craft, I don’t throw that word around lightly these days. I’m not trying to prove anything by talking about terroir. I just like tasting oyster shell in my Chablis. I like tasting crushed stones in my Sancerre. I’m fascinated by wine’s ability to soak up its environment, which is why I’ve always been drawn to terroir-driven expressions, particularly the whites. The viticultural aspect of wine—the actual farming—is what initially intrigued me away from teaching and into the booze business; it’s the most compelling part of alcohol for me.

When I first started in wine retail, back in 2007, California was going through why my old pal Jon Bonné refers to as the “Big Flavor Era,” a time when Napa wineries catered solely to critics like Robert Parker, extracting as much ripeness and richness as possible from their grapes in the search for higher alcohol levels and fuller bodies. When Jon first came to San Francisco in 2006 to write about wine for the San Francisco Chronicle, he too was skeptical about California’s winemaking scene, and—as he writes in his fantastic book The New California Wine—the “ubiquity of oaky, uninspired bottles and a presumption that bigger was indeed better.”

That’s not to say that California wines weren’t good in those days—because taste is relative—but rather that they all sort of tasted the same. They were full-bodied, sweet, silky, and smooth; everything the general consumer usually associates with quality hooch. They just didn’t express any real sense of place, which is the theme of Jon’s book: to showcase the wines of “newer” Californian producers, those who spend more time in the vineyard than the laboratory.

Now before we go any further, I want to make a few things clear. First, there were plenty of California producers making amazing wines with restraint and character back in 2007; it’s just that they were overshadowed by the 100 point scores being doled out to the heavy hitters. They were outliers of the culture, rather than part of the culture itself. Second, a wine doesn’t necessarily need to express terroir in order to be good. I explain it to consumers this way: if I’m on vacation in Europe and I’m looking for a place to eat, I’m going to go out of my way to find a restaurant that serves dishes I either can’t get back at home, or are a specialty of the region. If I’m in France, I’m going to eat a shit ton of black truffles and duck confit. If I’m in Italy, I’m going to eat local pasta until I can no longer button my pants.

Pinot Noir vineyards in Sonoma

When I’m buying a wine from France, Italy, or even California, I’m in search of a similar experience. Naturally, it should be pleasing to the taste, but I’m also interested in what it can express, maybe a flavor or an aroma that is distinct and can be replicated nowhere else. It’s not that California wine is incapable of terroir, but rather that California winemakers often see it as an afterthought, if an even attribute whatsoever.

I want be careful here because I feel like this is the exact point where we lose everyday consumers in the wine business. We start talking about these grand ideas—land, climate, and terrain—when most people just want to drink something that tastes good so they can get their buzz on. The longer we lecture, the larger that soapbox tends to loom. Ultimately, what we’re talking about is the difference between practicality and art, between a commodity and something stylistic. Some people see music as a commodity they listen to in order to pass the time while driving. Others see it as an art form worthy of the highest veneration. There are those that just want to dance and have a good time, and others who strive to push the medium to its furthest limits. That’s the divide we’re talking about here. It’s not snobbery. It’s just a matter of what inspires you as a human being.

I want to use a quote from Robert Mondavi here that I found in Jon’s New California book to drive this point home. In 1962, having just returned from his first ever trip to Europe, the Napa godfather summarized the divide between California and the Old World as such:

“To my mind, the contrast was stark: we were treating wine as a business, the great European chateaus were treating wine as high art.”

Bingo.

In Bordeaux, Burgundy, the Loire Valley, and throughout France, the perception of wine isn’t all that different from that of literature or painting. People obsess over it. They catalog it, critique it, discuss it, and argue over its merit until the wee hours of the morning. Whereas my friends from college might wax philosophically about Radiohead’s importance in the prog lexicon of Genesis and Pink Floyd, citizens of Paris are doing the same about the potential of a piece of earth to express greatness using grapes as its vessel. I’ve spent plenty of evenings in the French countryside listening to farmers bicker about a ten dollar bottle of table red, almost resorting to fisticuffs over what seems like the most meaningless disagreement. It’s serious business over there. Or rather, it’s beyond business. To some, it’s almost a religion.

The mysticism behind biodynamic farming, and how the lunar cycles impact a vineyard’s potential, leave plenty of room for cultish associations when it comes to agriculture, but that’s part of what makes wine more than just a simple beverage. The intangibles of nature and the heavens cannot always be explained with science, or fixed after the fact like airbrushing a photoshoot. That sense of awe has long been missing from California’s wine culture. The science of production, manipulation in the cellar, from micro-oxidation to reverse osmosis, was always more important in order to make the wines more palatable to the masses. Driving down 101 on that Sunday afternoon, looking at the vineyards along the way, got me thinking about California again and my longstanding desire to be more supportive of local winemakers. I needed to go back and reacquaint myself with some of the more old world-minded producers, which is why I pulled out Jon’s book in the first place. That led me to a bottle of Matthiasson Napa Chardonnay from Linda Vista Vineyard, and that first glass led me straight to Steve Matthiasson.

To be perfectly honest, it wasn’t until I went back to Jon’s book that I learned about Steve Matthiasson and his passion for farming. Like I mentioned, my early days in retail were spent draining bottles of Pauillac and Sancerre, not so much Napa Chardonnay, so I somehow completely missed that the San Francisco Chronicle named Steve winemaker of the year in 2014, and the string of accolades that followed from there. There is no shortage of press concerning his wines, and the fact that I’m so late to the game is evidence of the tremendous California-sized gap in my wine knowledge. After initially freaking out over Steve’s wine, I reached out to him in an attempt to learn more about his vineyard and why his Chardonnay tasted so vibrant and fresh in comparison to other Napa producers. I wanted to know more. Now that I’m back in retail at Mission, I want our staff members and customers to know about Steve’s wines.

“One of the things I love about the Linda Vista vineyard is the acidity it provides. People think of Napa as a warm region, but there’s a big difference between the bottom and the top of the valley,” Steve told me over the phone recently; “Calistoga gets quite warm, but we get fog that doesn’t burn off until late morning, and in the afternoon the breeze comes off of San Pablo Bay. I wouldn’t call it a cool climate site, but it’s definitely a mild climate, so the wines tend to have a lot of acidity.”

Steve Matthiasson at home in Napa

To say that the Matthiasson Linda Vista Chardonnay has acidity is like saying Las Vegas gets warm in the summer; it’s factually correct, but it’s a bit of an understatement. I can say with complete certainty that Steve’s wine is the most taste bud-tingling, zippy, zesty California Chardonnay that I’ve ever tasted. It’s an explosion of citrus. It’s like a party on your tongue, or—as my wife described it—like a wine disguised as a Margarita. It has acidity up the wazoo, to the extent that never in a million years would I have picked it out as California Chardonnay. I wanted to know more about why that was the case.

“Oak Knoll, where we’re located, was never renowned as a Cabernet district because it was considered too cool, so it became the Chardonnay region,” Steve explained; “The soil is composed of marine-based sediment. The south part of Mt. Veeder is marine uplift, so it’s 20 million year old ocean soil, whereas the rest of Napa is volcanic and about 5 million years old. It’s high in magnesium, which works like calcium in limestone. Limestone soils are also low in potassium. It’s not very romantic, but low potassium is a big part of terroir. Grapes hold more acidity when they grow in low potassium soils.”

This explanation made my entire year. For over a decade, I had been taught that limestone soils produced wines with higher acidity levels, but nothing more beyond that. The explanations from winemakers and sommeliers always seemed to stop there, as if the answer was obvious, and I was never scientifically-motivated enough to learn about the chemistry on my own. There is indeed a terroir-driven reason for why the Matthiasson Chardonnay has such incredible pep: it’s the magnesium in the ancient ocean soil, reminiscent of another famous marine-driven terroir, also known for wines with blistering acidity.

The most famous stretch of Kimmeridgian limestone soil runs directly underneath France’s Champagne region all the way down to Chablis. The calcareous soil is a big part of why Champagne and Chablis both produce crisp and vibrant whites, often with minerality to boot. That limestone chalk, once part of the ocean floor, is what makes those vines so special, and why they’re able to produce wines of a distinct character, unable to be replicated elsewhere no matter how many have tried in the past. It’s what makes Champagne so famous. It’s why, as Steve stated, “Chablis was considered the gold standard for Chardonnay” during California’s early winemaking days. That limestone is ultimately what you’re paying for when you buy yourself a bottle. I asked Steve if there were any other factors besides the low potassium levels: “There’s the climate, the marine soil, and the fact that the vines are more vigorous in the marine clay. Vigorously growing vines also tend to produce more acidity,” he added.

Linda Vista Vineyard in the West Oak Knoll region of Napa

It wasn’t just the acidity that blew me away, however; it was also the distinct flavor of Meyer lemon the exploded from the glass. I typically associate California Chardonnay with stone fruit flavors, so the Linda Vista expression really caught me off guard. “We pick it really early over a three week period,” Steve explained; “We start at Champagne levels of ripeness and we end right as it hits modern style ripeness, where it has stone fruit and texture. It’s basically screeching crazy acid, mixed with riper grapes from the end of the pick. It’s a single vineyard, but it’s picked over a three week process. Back in Chablis, the small families can’t necessarily pick all their grapes in one day, so they do the same thing. We also don’t stir the lees because that can introduce oxygen, which can make that lemon flavor go away. Then we use neutral barrels to hold the aromatics.”

What really got me excited about that bottle of Matthiasson was that it was Chardonnay. I’ve spent plenty of time in my career visiting the great red wine sites of California—Monte Bello, Eisele, Howell Mountain—so I’ve always known where to look when in need of great Cabernet Sauvignon. Yet, I can’t remember the last time a bottle of California white wine got me so fired up. Since speaking with Steve, I’ve been thinking non-stop about the amount of vineyard land that must exist in California, capable of producing white wines of distinction if farmed specifically for that purpose.

I’ve always been one eager to go deeper down the rabbit hole, so now that I’m back in retail I’ve been going through more of Steve’s wines. Make sure to check out Steve’s value label Tendu for some of the most delicious, unique, and affordable CA wines I’ve ever tasted—especially the Mataro. It also has me taking a harder look at Jon’s book now that I’m buying wine for Mission, and simultaneously it has be thinking about another road trip, back up 101 through Santa Maria and the Central Coast, and into Sonoma and Napa once COVID settles down.

What else have I been missing?

-David Driscoll

Instagram Live Tomorrow With Charles Neal

Tomorrow at 5 PM at the @missionliquor Instagram account, I’ll be live with my good friend Charles Neal (pictured above on the right along with Emmanuel Camut).

We’ll be talking about Cognac, Armagnac, Calvados, wine, you name it.

See you there!

-David Driscoll

Dave's Faves - Feb 8th, 2021

I was never a huge Grateful Dead fan, but I remember the old Dick’s Picks cassettes that would make their way around the tape-trading circles, originally started by Grateful Dead tape vault archivist Dick Latvala. They were live recordings selected by him and released with permission from the band, based on his favorite performances.

I’m gonna take a queue from Dick and start doing Dave’s Faves, based on my favorite bottles in the store right now. I’ll update this from time to time, as new things come in; it’s 100% based on what I’m drinking at home, not so much what’s new and shiny.

Favorite White Wine Sub-$20: Tendu Clarksburg Cortese $15.95 - 100% Cortese, more often found in the inexpensive and cheerful whites of Piedmont, particularly Gavi! This white originates from the Lost Slough vineyard, located on the Sacramento River Delta - a site that benefits from cool breezes and good diurnal temperature variation, meaning the grapes retain excellent freshness. Fresh and fruity, but with a pleasant, deceptive oomph to the palate - orange peel, soft spice and stone fruits - fuzzy apricots and peaches with a hint of texture. Like all of Steve Matthiasson’s wines, it over-delivers, and is a delightful expression of this Italian grape.

Favorite Red Wine Sub-$20: Tendu Dunnigan Hills Mataro $15.95 - This isn’t just my favorite wine in the store right now, but many of the Mission staff members as well. Super light (lighter than German Pinot Noir), super juicy, fresh, snappy, and just absolutely delicious. Made entirely from organic Mourvedre (Mataro) from Yolo County, where Steve Matthiasson helped grow and source the fruit. The Tendu wines in general are a fun CA project and this one in particular really sings.

Favorite White Wine Sub-$50: 2019 Matthiasson Linda Vista Napa Chardonnay $26.95 - The Linda Vista Vineyard is just across the creek behind Steve’s house. The West Oak Knoll area where he lives is one of the classic Chardonnay spots in Napa—the Chardonnay from just behind them won the famous Paris tasting in 1976. The cool winds off the San Pablo Bay bring acidity and freshness, while the Napa sun gives flesh and ripeness. The 25-year old vines were originally planted by Beringer, certified organic. The wine is very Chablis-like. To me, it’s one of the best Chardonnays made in the state, if not THE VERY BEST.

Favorite Red Wine Sub-$50: 2018 Laurent Combier Crozes-Hermitage Cuvée LC $21.99 - I’ve bought this wine from Charles in previous vintages but it’s never tasted this good, and—considering the current 25% tariffs—the price is incredible. This is 100% Syrah made from some of the best fruit in the Northern Rhône for a price that KILLS!! Aged in cement eggs rather than new oak, it’s meant as a bistro wine with a juicier, more fruit-forward profile. BUT...this isn’t anything close to California Syrah. This is spicy with notes of cracked black peppercorns and hints of roasted meats. I’m buying a case for myself today as this is my new house red for February.

Favorite White Wine Sub-$100: 2019 Arnot Roberts Sanford & Benedict Vineyard Chardonnay $49.95 - Sanford & Benedict Vineyard creates some of CA’s best Chardonnays (Sandhi also comes to mind) and this expression from Arnot Roberts is up there with the best of them. There’s a reason this wine has huge scores from critics. You get a lot of white flowers and minerality, which is the vineyard’s calling card.

Favorite Red Wine Sub-$100: 2017 Pursued By Bear “Twin Bear” Cabernet Sauvignon $69.95 - Having had the chance to work with Kyle MacLachlan at my previous gig, it’s exciting to see how his portfolio has expanded since I last tasted these wines. The Twin Bear is a new expression that really blurs the line between polished and authentic. The wine is textbook Cab with all the classic dark fruit and herbaceous notes you want from a purist standpoint, but the wine is also as smooth as silk, which will appeal to new world fans. Great stuff.

Favorite Champagne: Paul Laurent Brut $29.95 - When you find a better deal than the Paul Laurent for a hair under thirty bucks, let me know. I’ll be waiting. Probably for a while.

Favorite Bourbon: Old Tub Bottled in Bond $18.95 - I haven’t been sipping much Bourbon at home lately, and I’ve been working through a huge case of Bundaberg ginger beer I got from Costco. Hence, I’ve been crushing Old Tub like it’s under $20 a bottle. Which it is.

Favorite Single Malt: Balcones “Mission Exclusive” Single European Oak Barrel Single Malt Whiskey $74.95 - See my blog from last week. This stuff is just stunning. We brought it over to a friend’s backyard dinner party this past Saturday and even my wife was drinking it straight at 64% ABV.

Favorite Tequila: G4 Blanco Tequila $39.95 - Not only am I drinking this Tequila in copious quantities, I’m gifting it all the time. A bottle to my father-in-law, a bottle to my parents, a bottle to my landlord, etc. I want everyone to have this at home.

Favorite Mezcal: NETA Madrecuixe + Espadín Ranulfo $134.99 - One of the most delicious bottles of agave spirit in the store at any price, this ensemble of Madrecuixe and Espadín agave produced only 246 bottles, distilled in June of 2019 by Ranulfo García Pacheco in Miahuatlán. The flavors are bright and sweetly spiced with citrus and an exotic savoriness that lingers on the palate for minutes after every sip.

Favorite Brandy: Camut 6 Year Old Calvados $99.99 - Not only my favorite brandy in the world, but also just my favorite spirit of any kind.

Favorite Rum: Hampden Great House 2020 $109.95 - Granted, I didn’t actually buy this bottle. I have a small sampler I’ve been draining very slowly, but man oh man is this delicious.

Favorite Liqueur: Bordiga Chiot Mont Amaro $27.95 - No matter how many new amari I taste these days, I still come back to the Chiot for two very simple reasons. 1) It’s low in alcohol and by the time I get to the amaro I’m usually a cocktail and a bottle of wine deep. I don’t need that much more. 2) It tastes so damn good.

Favorite Gin: Four Pillars Olive Branch Gin $36.95 - So good just straight out of the bottle. So good that I’m drinking it straight out of the bottle.

Favorite Vodka: Double Cross Vodka $13.95 - We got a pretty sizable drop of Double Cross at an absolutely ridiculous price, so this is gonna be my house vodka for most of 2021. 100% winter wheat, clean, and creamy.

-David Driscoll