Preparing for the Rye Revolution
Photo by dan4th/Flickr CC
On a side table in my grandmother's dining room sat three cut-glass decanters, each with a brass label around its neck: Scotch, Bourbon, and Rye. Long ago, this was the standard trio of the American bar; tequila and vodka were bare gleams in a sot's eye.
Whiskey is no longer the beginning and end of the American liquor experience. Of the three, Scotch has more or less kept its ground, especially after the late-'90s fad for "anything Glen." Bourbon has faded, though Jim Beam and Jack Daniels (not actually a Bourbon, but let's set that aside) remain old standbys. But what happened to Rye?
Rarely has a liquor fallen so quickly and completely from the public's favor. Why? For one, rye lost out in the great wave of distillery consolidations during the middle of the 20th century. That's because, second, Bourbon, being sweeter and more palatable, was easier to market to a public increasingly averse to straight hard alcohol.
Jeff and I sampled all of these neat, or with a little ice or water. We didn't sample them in cocktails or with mixers. That's how we roll.
Rye, which has to be made from a mash bill of at least 51 percent rye (though the rye content is usually much higher), is not for the faint of heart. It is full of spice and kick. Spice is fine in wine, but when we're talking about 100-proof quaffs, it's a bit much. Rye, in other words, got caught in a reinforcing spiral: A growing aversion to strong alcohol led conglomerates to cut rye production; less rye on the shelf meant less familiarity and thus even less demand.
Nevertheless, rye abides, and even flourishes. Several of the stalwart old labels have survived--Old Overholt, Sazerac--and a bevy of new brands hint that a Rye renaissance may be afoot (aided, I suppose, by the sudden popularity of pseudo-speakeasies and Prohibition Era chic). To prepare readers for the rye revolution, I sat down with my friend and fellow rye partisan Jeff Lewandowski to come up with a cheat sheet for twelve ryes, in rough order of preference*.
1. Van Winkle Family Reserve (13 years old; 95.6 proof; $75): Easily my favorite rye, this drink couldn't differ more from the brash four year olds like Rittenhouse. Though it's on the heavy side at 95.6 proof, it's almost as sweet as Bourbon. It pours a pleasant scarlet, like a deep blush, and has a thick, full mouth feel. Maple candy and toffee dominate the nose, while the taste is a delicate balance of vanilla and light spices. It has a long, sweet finish, leaving an echoing flavor of caramel chews. Perfect.
2. Hirsch (22 years old; 93 proof; $135): This was Jeff's pick of the litter. Hard to find, but worth the hunt, this rye proves that the guys behind Hirsch 16-year Bourbon--a legendary expression which they found in a warehouse and bottled under a new label--weren't just lucky. It is one of the fullest-bodied ryes we tried; despite mellowing for 22 years, the grain spiciness hits you right away. But it is accompanied by a raft of complex vanilla, toffee, honey, and vanilla notes in both the aroma and the taste.
3. Jim Beam Rye (4 years old; 80 proof; $14): For all the flashy, pricey American whiskies out there, it's a testament to the industry's populist roots that one of its cheapest products is also one of its best. Both Jeff and I are big fans of virtually all the Beam products, but Jeff is a missionary for the rye: "My favorite value in the entire alcohol universe," he said. It pours a deep, rich amber, with a pleasant floral aroma and a medium-bodied mouth feel. The rye is very much present in both the taste and the finish, but not too much that it overpowers the complex sub-flavors of oak and cinnamon.
4. Templeton Rye (5 years old; 80 proof; $45): The folks at Iowa's Templeton Distillery are clearly trying to ride the speakeasy train; just check out their website. But marketing kitsch doesn't guarantee a bad drink, and Templeton's rye is a solid entry. It pours a pretty amber color--Jeff called it "museum shop"--and it has a nice, full mouth feel. Jeff found creamy vanilla, gingerbread, and cinnamon notes in the aroma, partnered with a taste of "buttery sweetness upfront followed by spice, rye, and oak." Like most ryes, it has a long, complex finish; Jeff said it was "like a fireball candy near the white center but with some red still remaining; that is, sugary spicy." (N.B.: While most of the ryes under review are available in large swaths of the country, if not nationally, Templeton can only be found in Iowa and Illinois.)
5. Russell's Small Batch Reserve Rye (6 years old; 90 proof; $35): The sister whiskey to Wild Turkey's popular Russell's Bourbon, this rye is surprisingly smooth drinking. It has a rich golden amber color and a candy-sweet aroma with a kick that goes straight up the center of your nose. The mouth feel is nicely balanced, and the taste is, Jeff discovered, a curious but pleasant balance of sweet and acidic notes, building toward more spice as it finishes.
6. Rathskeller Rye (15 years old; 138 proof): Almost impossible to find, this product of the cult-inspiring Kentucky Bourbon Distillers weighs in at an overwhelming 138 proof. There's no price for it because, as far as I can tell, it is only available by the glass through a few bars around the country (Jeff and I tried it at Bourbon, in Washington, though it was bottled for Louisville's Seelbach Hilton). It has a deep red color and a delicate nose, dominated by pine and light caramel. It tastes of spice and more pine, but at first I spent too much time choking it down to really inspect the flavor. Cut with water, though, it opens up considerably, with the pine coming forward, accompanied by floral and hop notes.
* Note: Prices are approximate; as with most off-the-beaten-path liquor, they will vary widely among regions, cities, and even stores.