The Next Great American Whiskey

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Todd Leopold is seen as one of the forefathers of modern American craft distillation. Because of that reputation, a large number of spirits enthusiasts pay close attention to what he does.

“He makes gin, right? And that Maryland rye stuff? Oh, and fruit liqueurs. And absinthe.”

Yes, the co-owner and distiller of Leopold Bros distillery in Denver is a very capable person. He makes a small batch gin from individually-distilled botanicals that are eventually blended together like a fine whiskey; a litany of incredibly pure fruit liqueurs, made with local Colorado produce and fussed over like few cordials have ever been; and of course a few whiskies, too.

As a family, the Leopolds’ achievements actually reach far beyond the incredible portfolio of spirits they've produced over the last decade-plus. Todd’s father is a landscape architect who helped design one of the most pristine distillation campuses in the country. His mother is a textile expert who crafted the distillery's stunning interior piece by piece. Don’t forget his brother Scott—co-owner, of Leopold Bros—who was trained as an environmental engineer at Stanford and constructed one of the greenest, most eco-friendly distilleries in the country.

But for everything the Leopolds have accomplished over the last twenty years—including the brewery they opened back in Michigan—one thing is abundantly clear: few whiskey drinkers have yet to experience what Todd Leopold and his immensely talented family are truly capable of. The products that will ultimately come to define the Leopolds and their distillery, those what will put their stamp on America’s distillation history, have never been released. They're sitting in wood, racked in a dunnage style warehouse immediately next to the production facility.

They are magnificent spirits, steeped in flavor, tradition, and an incredible amount of historical accuracy, painstakingly researched with a level of sophistication usually reserved only for savants. Yet, thus far, the only people who have tasted them are friends, family members, and people like myself who have worked closely with Todd for years, texting at 10 PM on a Tuesday night, discussing old Cocteau Twins records while we gossip about the booze biz.

If you haven’t yet seen the above video, then stop reading right now and watch it. You’re about to find out about the next great American whiskey.

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Todd Leopold’s chamber still rye whiskey is without a doubt the most concentrated American rye whiskey I’ve ever tasted, but the still itself is the big secret that everyone's dying to know more about, from whiskey historians like David Wondrich and Mike Veach, to whiskey super nerds who obsess over production details and spec sheets. A girthy piece of equipment, it was once used in a number of American distilleries around the turn of the 20th century and into the mid-1900s. Few people, however, seem to understand exactly how or why it was used. 

Fortunately for whiskey fans, Todd is a dedicated researcher and reader of old documents. He spends his free time digging out the recorded minutes from forgotten community farmer meetings, or various malting essays written by brewers in the 1920s. Even Vendome, the heralded American still company that made the equipment for him, doesn't really understand how the chamber still works—and that's exactly how Todd likes it. It’s his baby, his reenactment, and he thinks it’s going to set Leopold Bros apart from the general market in a major way.

Working from a design he located in an old diagram of Hiram Walker's former plant in Peoria, Illinois back in 1910, Todd helped to create this three column monster that—despite its look—distills in batches rather than continuously. I don't want to give away too many of Todd's secrets, but let’s just say that there is mash loaded into each level and as the liquid vaporizes it passes through the mash as it moves up through the chamber. Think of gin vapor moving through a botanical basket, but instead its actual whiskey vapor moving the same flavorful whiskey mash from which it was originally boiled. 

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As amazing as Todd’s chamber still rye is, it’s not going to be cheap, clocking in around $250 per bottle for a 5+ year old bottled in bond whiskey. However, the amount of risk, time, money, energy, and care that went into making this whiskey, recreating a style not seen in America since before Prohibition, was not minuscule, and the initial production is limited to just 5,000+ bottles for the entire world.

Having tasted it at numerous stages over the last four years, I’ve watched its evolution and grown downright giddy about its release as we’ve inched closer to this date. First off, you’ve never smelled a whiskey like this before. As I’m typing this now, I’m sticking my nose into a half empty bottle and getting completely bowled over by potent waves of graham cracker, root beer, toasted oak, and cookie dough. Secondly, you’ve never tasted an American whiskey like this before: sweet cereal grains, an oily texture, booming flavors of sarsaparilla, ginger, baking spices, and plenty of vanilla.

Now the time is nigh. The first release of the next great American whiskey is upon us . The question I have to answer for myself right now is: how many cases will be enough?

-David Driscoll

Midnight Run

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There was a point in my life when I thought I was one of the few people on earth who worshipped the film Midnight Run.

Then came the internet, message boards, social media, and the expansion of journalism. That’s when I realized that Midnight Run was beloved by countless thousands of people all around the world. At least once a year now someone writes a love letter to Martin Brest’s ageless masterpiece online, and I read every single one of them because it brings me extreme joy to know that other people out there feel the same way.

When the news hit that actor Charles Grodin had passed away from bone marrow cancer yesterday, I sat back in my chair and went through all his unforgettable lines from that film in my head. I can recount every single frame of Midnight Run because for most of my childhood I would fall asleep with the TV on, usually running a VHS of Midnight Run for comfort. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen it, but I can safely say that I’ve seen parts of Midnight Run well over 1,000 times.

If you judge a film by how many times you’ve seen it, then Midnight Run is without a doubt my favorite film of all time (with Van Damme’s Bloodsport a close second, and No Country For Old Men moving into third).

I used to own a home in Las Vegas and every single time we would fly out of McCarren airport, I would say to my wife: “Serrano’s got the disks.” When I first moved to LA and went to Grand Central Market, all I could think of was Joe Pantoliano running to grab the phone at the China Cafe. More than thirty years after its release, I’m still acting out the lines. Every time my wife and I go out for breakfast and I see chorizo and eggs on the menu, my mind goes right to Charles Grodin.

if you’ve never seen Midnight Run, it’s as good a time as any to give it a screening; if for no other reason than in tribute to the life of a fantastic actor. I hope it still resonates today. For me, there’s so much nostalgia involved that I can no longer tie my feelings to the film alone; hence, Charles Grodin’s passing feels like the death of a family member to me.

It’s proof of the power that mediums like film, music, and art have over our emotions. How something so temporary to one person can be so timeless to another.

-David Driscoll

VIP Access

As promised months ago here on this blog, you’re going to see a change in the way we handle allocated items here at Mission, in terms of both pricing and access.

If you’re interested in getting first dibs on all our most allocated whiskies, then you need to sign up for the Mission Insider Newsletter by putting your name and address into the form on the right side of this page.

Starting last week, all members of the Insider Email Newsletter with $500 or more in their order history have been tagged as VIPs and are given early access to new items, allocated whiskies, and other hot products as they become available.

Once that early access period ends, we put the items on the web—first come, first served.

As an example, we did the Elijah Craig Barrel Proof and the Little Book Chapter 4 this past. And as of right now, those bottles are live on the web for anyone to purchase.

-David Driscoll

Ron Swanson Strikes Again

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Just in time for Father’s Day, the most iconic Lagavulin-swilling TV character of all time is back with another edition from his favorite distillery—this time finished for four months in Guinness beer casks.

The Lagavulin 11 Year Old Guinness Cask Finish is in stock and ready to rock, combining the peaty, smoky, Islay character you love with the dark chocolate and rich notes of Ireland’s most iconic stout.

I haven’t had it yet, but I’m cracking my bottle this week. I was a HUGE fan of the last Offerman Edition, even though some others didn’t seem to love it as much as I did. I’m hoping this new offering is just as good.

-David Driscoll

Six Months In

I started work at Mission the first week of November last year, and having just passed the six month mark recently, I thought it was time for a review.

As I wrote a while back on this blog, as well as in an email to our customers: change does not happen overnight. You don’t just walk into a new company, start throwing your weight around, and demand that everything be done the way you want it. Especially when that company has been incredibly successful since the year you were born and you’ve done nothing to prove yourself within those walls.

You have to start small. You make a few suggestions, then you test the strategy for a few weeks to see what happens. You document everything, record important data, and ultimately present your findings to the board (or in this case the owner) in order to make your case. After six months of managing sales, customer service, departmental buying, and all marketing channels, yesterday I was able to make a clear case for what’s working and what isn’t.

More importantly, I was able to show data that proves making certain changes would not only be more popular with our customers, but also more beneficial to our business model.

Granted, I had my own preconceived notions.

Do I think price gouging is a good idea? No.

Do I think bundling is the best way to deal with allocated items? No.

Can I prove that there’s a better way to handle all of this crazy demand for limited whiskies that will make customers feel like they’re being taken care of, rather than taken advantage of?

Yes. Gimme six months and I’ll prove it to you.

We just passed the six month mark.

:)

-David Driscoll

Our Best Single Barrel Of The Year

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Sometimes you pick out a single barrel of whiskey as part of a sales trip or a large sample tasting and—when the whiskey finally arrives—it doesn’t taste quite as good as it did in that initial moment.

There are also times when the whiskey shows up and it tastes far better than you remember, completely exceeding your expectations, and leading to joyful exaltations and happy dances.

I’m happy to report that the latter experience is what happened to me yesterday, as I finally popped a bottle of our new Angel’s Envy 55% ABV single Port cask and tasted what is, by far, the best single barrel of Bourbon we’ve chosen this year at Mission Wine & Spirits.

Of course, as we all know (and as I’ve spent countless hours lamenting), flavor isn’t what sells whiskey anymore. Specs are what sells whiskey today: high ABV numbers, older age statements, specific rickhouse details, etc. Hence, I’m expecting some Bourbon fans to be enticed by the 55% ABV, but perhaps less excited by the lack of an age statement.

But if you actually drink your whiskey, rather than flip it on social media, this is all good news for you because we still have plenty of inventory as a result. And, let me tell you, you’re going to want multiples. I popped this bottle with my friends (and customers) Alan and Brian last night, and Alan said flat out: “If you lift the two bottle per customer limit I’ll buy ten more right now.”

So I did. And now it’s open season (and Alan did indeed buy 12 total bottles).

What’s so special about this barrel? The fact that the higher than normal ABV mellows out some of the sweetness from the Port influence, rendering it more like a light layer of frosting on a Bourbon cake, rather than a fruit filling. It’s so ridiculously supple, like a liquid Christmas cookie in your mouth, moving between cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla, but that candied red fruit influence remains firmly around the edges. It’s never overly sweet and it doesn’t taste like a dessert whiskey.

As Alan noted: “Some single barrel whiskies need to be proofed down in order to find the sweet spot. This one is absolutely perfect at 55% ABV.”

“Would you even think this was 110 proof if you didn’t know?” I asked in response.

“Not a chance,” he replied; “It goes down too easy.”

As soon as I’m back at work, I’m buying three more for myself. And I never buy multiples. It’s not in my nature.

But some whiskies are so delicious, so pleasing, and so satisfying, they require additional inventory. This is one of those whiskies.

-David Driscoll

Generational Divides

Having grown up on 80s hair bands, worshipping the gunslinging guitarists of that era, it’s taken me decades to truly understand what those musicians must have felt like when Nirvana hit.

Almost overnight, the countless hours those rockers had spent honing their skills, perfecting their look, and waiting for their time in the spotlight were rendered meaningless, replaced by guys in thrift store clothes playing three-chord punk riffs, many of whom had learned to play just enough guitar in a matter of weeks.

Not that I dislike the 90s grunge era, mind you; it’s the music of my teenage years and I absolutely love it. Nor do I believe the decadence of the hair band era had anything left to say. It was time for a change.

I’m simply relating to the relative speed at which that divide occurred. There’s been a similar transition in the booze business that seems like it came out of nowhere, and it’s left a number of us scratching our heads, wondering what in the world is happening.

Example? Natural wine. It’s become a real force in the industry over the last two years and no one over the age of forty can understand why.

I don’t know one traditional wine retailer or sommelier that likes natural wine, or can even pretend to like natural wine—and I’ve spoken to at least fifty people about the subject over the last six months! Nevertheless, these colorful new bottles sell like hotcakes to young drinkers who truly believe this is their generation’s calling.

Bordeaux? Burgundy? Napa? That’s for geezers, bro.

They want wine without any intervention. Zero additives, no sulfur. If it tastes like a mouthful of dirt, that’s a good thing!

Most of the folks I know in the wine business have been gritting their teeth and forcing a smile each time they sell a bottle. Yet, as one of my retailer friends told me over the phone yesterday: “I don’t think I can roll with the punches for much longer.”

The issue isn’t a matter of taste, but rather a matter of quality. It’s similar to how traditional whiskey fans complained about the early days of craft whiskey: why would I pay more for something that’s not nearly as good? In those days, consumers were literally subsidizing the dreams of would-be whiskey makers who had quit their day jobs to distill rye in their basements. Today, that dream is largely subsidized by large corporations who are clearly regretting their investments.

But youthful trends are often that way. They’re idealistic and fancy-free, only coming into focus years after they’ve fizzled out. We look back and say: “What were we thinking?” That’s the perspective that time offers us. The difference today, however, is that everything moves more quickly due to the speed of the internet. There’s no time for reflection; only reaction. By the time you decide to jump aboard the next train, another one has already left the station.

Example? Hard seltzer. It’s everywhere right now, but it won’t be in a year or two. If you’re just getting into the genre today, you’re already too late (don’t tell that to Beam, Diageo, Pernod, and the other giants, however). Something else will pop up in 2022 that will start a new marketing cycle and create a new divide.

In the meantime, those of us who learned about wine and spirits from a traditional background are wondering if we’ve become obsolete. For us, the end goal of exploration was always context: we were trying to bring the regional traditions of the world to our stores, hoping that our curation of different philosophies and practices would breed a similar passion with our customers. Today, however, consumers want (and often expect) the world to meet their standards, rather than the other way around.

Every generation has its embarrassments though. When it came to food and wine, my generation would pretend something was good simply because it was authentic. Importers and retailers would use words like “terroir” or “traditional” to cover for flaws in a product’s taste profile. If you didn’t eat and drink exactly like they did in France or Italy, you were seen as ignorant or aloof.

With today’s generation, appreciation seems more like scientific investigation rather than enjoyment. The goal isn’t to discover what you like, but rather to present one’s authority over a subject matter. It’s as if the acquiring and tasting of numerous spirits itself is what’s considered admirable, rather than the distillation of actual knowledge and understanding from those experiences.

With the death of understanding and experience, curation and expertise are no longer needed. It will all be outsourced to the web soon enough. As my old co-worker said to me yesterday: “The moment Amazon gets a grip on alcohol sales, and every bottle has thousands of star-based reviews for customers to sort through, our careers are over.”

-David Driscoll

Elijah Craig Rye Arrives

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Someone asked me the other day why I called my old podcast and interview series Drinking to Drink.

It’s because working in retail these days gives one the distinct impression that very few of the people seriously buying whiskey are drinking it.

What am I basing that on? Many, many things. But perhaps none more illuminating than the lack of general enthusiasm upon the launch of a new value-priced whiskey that delivers the goods for a bargain price. This week we’ve got one of the best new values of the year, so let’s go down the checklist:

Is it cask strength? No.

Is it collectable? No.

If I post a photo of it on Instagram, will anyone care? No.

Well….then what do you expect me to do with it? Drink it.

I remember ten years ago when most whiskey customers would throw gigantic fits if a new Bourbon or rye whiskey hit the market for more than $50 MSRP. Now it’s almost impossible to sell a bottle that’s under $50 MSRP. As we joke in the retail business: “it’s too cheap to sell.”

The difference is consumption. When you don’t actually drink, a $50 bottle can last you years. Hence, why people who don’t really drink are willing to spend $100 on whiskey without batting an eyelid.

But I fucking drink. So a $50 bottle might only last me three days depending on who’s coming over. So I’d rather spend $29.99 if possible.

So let’s talk about the Whiskey Advocate’s #7 Whiskey of the Year: the new Elijah Craig Rye Whiskey, brimming with character, bottled at 47% ABV, utterly drinkable, and priced right where it should be at $29.99. It’s so tasty, I’m expecting it to be near the top of my list for the best values of 2021, from any spirits category across the board.

But none of that matters unless you actually enjoy the act of drinking. Which, ironically, many of the folks buying whiskey today do not.

For those of you who actually like to drink whiskey, you’ll want a bottle of this.

-David Driscoll