Saturday, October 6, 2012

WHISKEY SPECIAL...Is bourbon America’ s answer to Britain’s Scotch?



Is bourbon America’ s answer to Britain’s Scotch? 

No. It’s a whiskey with a history as remarkable and distinctive as its taste 

A good whiskey never comes on its own; it can only be invoked, cajoled or coerced to appear. The cereal, be it rye, corn or barley, on which the drink is built is pampered with yeast cells, in the right ambience, until it can no longer withhold its quintessence which trickles out from the meaty core, drop by drop.
    No wonder. Whiskey is slow life bottled. Sipping it has a lot in common with meditation.
    If you’re caught in the hyper-accelerated life of 21st Century where a drink means a knock-back at the counter, a nippy shake of legs at the pub to shed the kick then and there, a rush back to home, and then to office the morning after, listen…it doesn’t have anything to talk to you.
    A good whiskey is just like an old man in the family, very sensitive about his age and space, but if given time would lead you by the hand to that seat by the window, draw off the curtain, and sit opposite to look into your eyes and sigh. With every sip of the amber light, your life slowly unfurls from its long crumbled state right before your eyes.
The Time Factor
The question is: do you have the time?
There are whiskeys galore in the world — and each of them has a reason to be. Like hot greedy girls (leave the old man by the window. See, how quickly things heat up with every peg of whiskey) they may not appreciate one another but would demand from you undivided attention.
    Take bourbon. Only if your nose picks the corn from the liquid you can convince her that you are serious.
    Unlike Scotch which is made from barley, bourbon speaks almost corn; about 70% of the drink refers back to corn stacks (minimum 51% required to label it bourbon) The rest of the chatter is by rye, wheat, yeast cells, malted barley, water and indeed a spell of voodoo which can hardly be deciphered.
    Bourbon is the quintessential American whiskey which the country proudly wears on its sleeve along with jazz and football. In 1964, the Congress officially recognised the drink as “a distinctive product of the United States”. So like champagne, it is region locked; you can create the whiskey anywhere outside the States but you cannot call her bourbon.
    When immigrants from Scotland and Ireland came to Bourbon County, Kentucky, centuries ago they found the region a perfect terrain to grow corn. So repeating Scotch, which needed barley instead of corn, was out of question. They also had to make whiskey in a hurry as it was the only one thing which the native Indians understood and were ready to exchange their products with.
    Corn was pressed into service.
Discovering Potential
The immigrants looked out for water next. The hard water that came from the subterranean limestones in Kentucky was good but certainly not ideal for whiskey, so the ingenious distillers found a way around the issue by a process called sour mashing.
    They found that if the residue of a previous distillation was added to the corn mash they could balance the pH of the water. It checked the unwanted growth of bacteria as well. And more. The whiskey also gained a subtle character through the process giving it the signature taste. A windfall indeed!
    Now you know why the term, “sour mash”, is written boldly across the labels of many bourbon bottles.
Life of a Whiskey DJ
A distiller of whiskey is almost like a DJ. He knows his audience, he knows the mood, and he knows the music he has in the store. With the corn taking one-third of the stage in bourbon, he has rye and wheat to tweak with. The moment he turns up the volume of wheat in the stew there is wheated bourbon hanging at the tap. Soft and creamy on the palate, a wheated bourbon is soft music. But not everyone could be in the mood for that. Want to turn things spicy? He turns up rye, which is zesty and tight for stormy nights (major distilleries produce both sorts of whiskies — wheated as well as rye — to cater to both parts of your split personality).
    The party reaches its crescendo when the distiller lets loose those jealously guarded yeast cells to the brew. They not only help to ferment but the fungi do a funky job in giving a distinct flavour and character to the whiskey. Bourbon does not accept artificial colours or flavours other than what the oak barrel gives when the fermented liquid meditates in it for years (two years minimum).
    And mind it; bourbon is not Scotch to be stored in a used barrel. The Federal Standards of Identity for Distilled Spirits states that bourbon must be aged in new, charred-oak barrels which help the whiskey gain colour, character and a tinge of vanilla. Inside the barrel bourbon breathes expanding into the wood during summer and contracting (drawing with it all that all that is elemental in oak) during the winter season, until they become mature.
Birth of the Variant
But not everyone would be satisfied with the kind of amber that flows out from the barrel after maturation. Distillers in Tennessee grumble about the inconsistency of taste in bourbon. They ran the fermented liquid through charcoal (before it was barrelled) and found a solution, with the charcoal acting as filtering agent.
    Tennessee whiskey was thus born, with its characteristic sootiness and distinct smoothness, and many fell for the new taste. You know Tennessee by its brand ambassador — Jack Daniels, the most popular among the charcoal-leached bourbons.
    Bourbon also goes through some cosmetic filtering to remove its impurities (which are actually harmless fatty acids and proteins). But many bourbon aficionados wail that along with the impurities go subtle tastes as well.
    Take heart, fellas. Jim Beam distillery rolls out a special product for the tough guys among you, Booker’s Bourbon — the pure, unadulterated, unfiltered bourbon.
Years of Competition
Those long years of competition with Scotch has given only painful memories to bourbon. The temperance movement in America left it a stranger in its own land. People preferred the milder Scotch to their national drink. After Prohibition, when American whiskey was about to start from zero, the World War II hit. Out of thousands of bourbon distilleries which flourished in Kentucky only 11 now survived.
    To stem the tide, some distillers fell back to old parchments and traditional methods, a few others assimilated
    new technology with the old. Master distillers were given free hand to experiment. And they rose courageously to meet the challenge.
Bourbon distillers began to fight off the elite single malts in their own game by rolling out premium products like single barrel straight bourbon (product of one barrel of whiskey, carefully selected, with the barrel number noted on the label) and small batch bourbons. The latter was made by blending several exceptional barrels to create a delicious harmony. Blended Scotch was obviously the target. The stamp of distiller’s personality is more pronounced in bourbon than in Scotch.
    So when you take a sip of bourbon, don’t forget to tip your hat to the distiller who has carefully picked the grains, watched over the fermentation, selected the right barrels which are properly charred, monitored the temperature inside the warehouse and finally pronounced the potion to have matured enough to become the one in his mind.
    Dave Broom in his wonderful book, The World Atlas of Whisky, says there is more in it than meets the eye in the face-off between bourbon and Scotch. He compares Lagavulin (single malt) and Hirsch (bourbon):
    “It probably depends on whether you are sitting in Frankfurt, Kentucky, or Islay, Scotland. Lagavulin begs for violent stormy nights on Scottish Isles, whereas Hirsch could be perfect during a summer sunset in the American South. Hirsch is for weddings and Lagavulin for divorces. Hirsch is as upbeat and happy as Lagavulin is dark and brooding.”
    The cultural terroir of bourbon is never complete without the whiskey-making dynasties of Kentucky — the Beams, the Samuels, the Russells, etc.
    Hold a bottle of Maker’s Mark which rolls out from Taylor William Samuel’s distillery. Nothing has changed in it since 1780. Or get a red bottle of Woodford Reserve from Louisville, famous for creating another legend, Muhammed Ali. Jimmy Russell’s Wild Turkey Reserve Bourbon aged 10 years may sweep you off floor with its rich and oaky flavour. Beam’s Booker’s is for the tough guy in you with its whopping 63% ABV, which comes unfiltered. Other major brands include Buffalo Trace, Four Roses and Heaven Hill.
    In the cocktail world bourbon is indispensable with the mint julep and also with the iconic Manhattan.
How to Do It
But what is there in it for us who takes a sip of bourbon far away from Kentucky? Bring your nose into a glass of whiskey and see. Every time you inhale, a picture appears — an olfactory image which offers you clues about the character of the drink — with strange stories of people and a place called Bourbon melded into it.
    But until you find the friend in her when you are alone, and the solitude she gives when you are in the midst of an annoying crowd, you are still nosing outside Bourbon County, Kentucky
Manu Remakanth SET120923

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