Travel Information and Rum Conference
Schedule:
Arrive Holiday Inn, located in Clarksville,
IN.
Wednesday, March 28th
Take the Louisville airport shuttle to the
Holiday Inn, located in Clarksville, IN.,
(Not the Louisville Holiday Inn). Clarksville
is just across the river from Louisville, KY.
--------------------------
Conference registration all
afternoon in the hotel lobby. Then from 7:00 –
9:00 pm, there will be an "early bird" rum
tasting. This is a very informal
gathering, a chance to get to know everyone
and an opportunity to share spirits with each
other, so bring some.
------------------------------------
NOTE:
Transportation to all conference events
(listed below) will be provided by the
American Distilling Institute.
-------------------------
Daily Events
Thursday. March 29th
Kentucky Distillery Tour
7:30, 7:45 & 8:00 Buses leaves Holiday Inn
for Vendome Copper.
8:00 – 9:00 Tour Vendome
9:15 Bus ride to Kelvin Cooperage (near
Louisville airport)
9:30 – 11:00 Tour Kelvin Cooperage
11:00 Bus to Woodford Reserve (Versailles,
KY) NOTE: the bus will take a short cut
(Route 62 and pass buy Stone Castle the Old
Taylor distillery that closed in the 1960s
12:00 – 2:00 Lunch and tour of Woodford
Reserve / Labrot & Graham
2:15 Buses leave for Buffalo Trace
(Frankfurt)
3:00 – 4:00 Tour Buffalo Trace
4:15 Buses leave for Bardstown to visit
Kentucky Bourbon Distillery
5:00 – 6:00 Tour Kentucky Bourbon
8:00 Tasting at the Holiday Inn
Friday, March 30th
Distilling Demonstrations at Huber Starlight
Distillery
7:30, 7:45 & 8:00 Buses to Huber Starlight
Distillery (Borden, IN)
9:00 Michale Delevante discussion of rum
distilling in the Caribbean
10:00 – 12:00 Rum distillation demonstration
12:00 – 1:00 Lunch at Huber Starlight
Distillery
1:00 Joan Carpenter of TTB discusses
licensing your distillery 2:00 Second rum
distilling demonstration
3:00 – 5:00 Vendor booths open
5:00 Rum Tasting and Banquet Dinner at Huber
Starlight Distillery
8:00 Buses leave for Holiday Inn
Saturday, March 30th
Conference at Huber Starlight Distillery
7:30, 7:74, & 8:00 pm Buses leave Holliday
Inn for Huber Starlight Distillery
8:15-9:15 Vendor booths open / Coffee
9:15 Pennfield Jensen, Vice President of the
American Distilling Institute welcomes you to
the 2007 Rum Distilling Conference
9:30 Phil Prichard, of Prichards’ Distillery,
pours and discusses distilling of light and
dark rums.
10:30Rum Panel: Kevin Settles of Bardenay
Distillery, Nahor Gustavo Lanza Luz de Faria
(Brazil) , Paul Case of Kolani Distillers,
(Hawaii)and Jay Harman of Triple Eight
Distillery (Nantucket)
11:15 Speaker
Wayne Curtis, author of And a
Bottle of Rum.
12:00 pm Lunch / Vendor Booths Open
1:30—2:30 pm Theo Lioutas discusses, What’s
Happening in the Barrel?10:30 Speaker Wayne
Curtis, author of And a
Bottle of Rum.
3:30—4:30 pm Wade Shanower Big Red Liquores
on “Marketing you spirits.”
4:00--4:30 pm Rum awards.
5:00 Rum tasting and banquet dinner
8:00 Return to Holliday / Free
evening
--------------------------------------------------
What Is a Craft Distiller?
by Charles K. Cowdery
The TV cooking show “Ming’s Quest” has an
episode called “Backcountry Cooking.” In this
show, the chef-host rides to his mountain
winter “backcountry” location in a heated
snow cat, does a little snowboarding, then
makes his “backcountry” dishes on the exact
same full-size kitchen set he uses in the
studio. It has been transported to the
“backcountry” and set up in the snow. The
whole episode is laughable. The “backcountry”
is reduced to a backdrop. All he has
demonstrated is that with enough money and
determination, you can go deep into the
wilderness without having any semblance of a
wilderness experience. What’s the point?
On another TV show, a craft distillery is
visited. It is in a bar-restaurant. We are
told the distiller is making rum. He shows us
his main ingredient, a sack of brown sugar.
Though not to my knowledge documented by
television, other craft distillers make
whiskey using wash (i.e., un-hopped beer)
they acquire from a local craft brewer.
Others perform their own fermentation but use
brewer-prepared yeast.
Using brown sugar instead of molasses to make
rum? Having a brewer do your mashing and
fermentation? It makes me wonder, what
exactly is a craft distiller, anyway?
I use the term “craft distiller” because the
American Distilling Institute calls itself
“The Voice of Craft Distilling.” You also see
“micro-distiller” and “artisan distiller.”
Are these terms interchangeable? “Micro”
simply means you’re small, but the words
“craft” and “artisan” usually refer to a
traditional, manual way of producing some
product, the modern production of which has
become automated and industrialized. Yet how
many American craft distillers make their own
yeast, make their own malt, mill their own
grain or practice any other arts typical of
pre-industrial American spirits-making?
The impulse to keep ancient crafts alive
takes many forms, from hand-woven cloth and
hand-made furniture to foodstuffs such as
cheese and bread. There are many motivations
for doing it. For some, it’s about better
quality. For others, it’s about more variety.
Authenticity, nostalgia, tradition and
historic preservation are among the many
different itches being scratched.
Craft producers in any field are small scale
by nature but is their small size the only
way they differ from their industrial
counterparts? Most craft producers probably
would say no. But what does that mean for
artisan distillers? There are no set rules,
no universal definitions. My purpose in this
article is not to criticize anyone or put
anyone down. It is to stimulate serious
consideration of the question: What does it
mean to be a craft distiller?
One writer suggests that artisanship in food
preparation comes from a synthesis of four
“P’s”: the product itself, the personality of
its maker, the place of production and the
maker’s passion for the craft.
Now try to apply that definition to the
American craft distiller who imports
peat-smoked barley from 4,600 miles away to
make malt whiskey, rather than use local
ingredients or local traditions.
Americans in general resist the bonds of
tradition. Should we expect American craft
distillers to be any different? The main
reason anyone starts a business is so they
can run it however they please. If I want to
distill fermented sugar water and call it
rum, who says I can’t?
Bill Owens, founder and president of the
American Distilling Institute, is a big
champion of pot stills. As far as Bill is
concerned, reviving the pot still is what
this ADI enterprise is all about. That pot
stills produce a superior quality distillate
seems for him and many others to be an
article of faith.
What is it about pot stills that makes them
so attractive? They are traditional, ancient
in fact. They also continue to be the choice
for several important distilling traditions,
those of Scotland and Cognac most famously.
Yet the so-called pot stills many craft
distillers use today have no precedent in a
pre-industrial distilling tradition;
American, Scottish, French or otherwise. They
have a pot but no alembic. Instead the pot is
topped by a rectification column, like the
rectification section of a column still. To
call them “pot stills,” as if they hearken
back to some earlier, more authentic period,
is misleading. They are not pot stills in any
historic sense. They are a modern hybrid, as
much column as pot. They may be “craft” in
that they are mainly manual and usually not
tricked up with sensors and automatic process
controls like their industrial counterparts,
but they are not the stills of our ancestors.
If artisans of any kind have trouble with
their identity, the one thing they know they
are not is industrial. Whatever the reason
for an artisan producer’s existence, one is
defined as an artisan, at least in part, by
the ways one differs from an industrial
producer of the same product.
Maybe by examining which sorts of products
and services are still available from
artisans and which are not, it will be
possible to draw some conclusions. For
example, why are there many artisan bakeries
but no artisan laundries? Perhaps it’s
because hand-made artisan bread is superior
in at least some ways to factory-made bread,
while everyone concedes that modern washing
machines do a better job of cleaning clothes
than an artisan with a rock and a river.
In other words, not every tradition is worth
preserving, but if you’re using small scale,
manual processes rather than large scale,
industrial processes, but you aren’t doing it
within some sort of historical context, then
what is the point? The artisan baker is
keeping a tradition alive and making a
product that’s superior to what the
industrial guys can make and, possibly, also
making a style or type of product the
industrial guys can’t or generally won’t
make. If you aren’t doing at least one of
those three things as a craft distiller, then
why bother?
There is a name for people who do things on a
small pre-industrial scale without
necessarily claiming or attempting to
preserve heritage, or to make a superior or
unique product, who do it mainly for personal
satisfaction. Those people are called
hobbyists.
Nothing wrong with that, most
of us have a hobby or two, but I think most
craft distillers would be offended by the
“hobbyist” tag.
Which brings me to vodka.
Most American craft distillers insist on
making vodka even though there is no artisan
vodka tradition. Is the reason because their
vodka is better?
No.
Even though I have not tasted every artisan
vodka, I feel confident in that statement
because it is technically impossible for a
craft distiller to make better vodka than
what an industrial distiller can make. How
can I say that? Look, if “quality” equals
“purity” and “purity” equals the removal of
as many congeneric compounds from the
distillate as possible, which is what
“quality” means in vodka, then you want all
the modern technology you can get. There is
no benefit to hand-making vodka, factories
have it all over artisans when it comes to
producing flavorless, colorless, odorless
grain neutral spirit.
That is why there are about a thousand
different vodka brands on the market, but
only a handful of producers.
Ultimately, then, artisan vodka makes about
as much sense as artisan-cleaned shirts. The
fact that few consumers understand this means
that a craft distillery can make and sell
vodka successfully, but at what cost to their
integrity since it is, essentially, a scam?
If craft distilling interests you because you
crave historic authenticity, you first have
to decide what tradition you want to emulate.
A recent New York Times article conflated
craft distillers with moonshiners. Many
people make the same mistake in reference to
all pre-industrial distilling, when
admittedly there was less difference in terms
of methods between legal and illegal
distillers. Modern moonshiners tend to use
low tech, hence traditional, methods simply
due to the tenuous nature of their
operations, but they have evolved unique
practices of their own that are more a
function of their craft’s illegality than of
any romanticized adherence to tradition for
its own sake.
Despite what the New York Times may think,
most moonshiners care not at all about
historic authenticity or product quality.
Their highest ambition is to make alcohol
fast and cheap (usually from table sugar),
sell it for a profit, not get caught, and not
poison anybody.
The moonshiner may be a good model for a
modern craft distiller under some
circumstances, but it is hardly the only
possibility.
As for the licit pre-industrial American
distilling tradition, early colonial
distilling was very rudimentary. It was a way
of concentrating the alcohol in a fermented
beverage primarily to preserve the product,
secondarily to make it easier to transport.
One of the first distilled beverages to be
widely commercialized was apple brandy, known
as applejack. Later it was rum, made from
molasses imported from the Caribbean. Still
later came whiskey, first made primarily from
rye, then primarily from corn.
The first American distillers were farmers
who made spirit from their own produce (be it
fruit or grain), primarily for their own
family’s consumption. The first commercial
applejack distillers started out as cider
producers. The first rum-makers ran the
dockside bars that catered to sailors and
dockworkers. The first commercial whiskey
distillers were originally millers.
It seems reasonable to argue that if
industrial producers are more historically
authentic than the artisans, that’s not a
good position for the artisans, but that is
exactly the situation in which many modern
American craft distillers find themselves
with regard to American industrial
whiskey-making.
For example, the first commercial
whiskey-makers in America were millers and,
today, American industrial-scale
whiskey-makers still do all of their own
milling. They are very particular about it.
No American industrial-scale whiskey-maker
buys grain already milled. All of them have
their own milling facilities in-house. How
many American craft distillers mill their own
grain?
Although all American whiskey distillers
still mill, there are many other practices
traditional to American whiskey-making that
are not generally followed by today’s
industrial producers. Those practices
represent potential ways for craft distillers
to distinguish themselves as more
historically authentic than the large,
industrialized producers, rather than less.
Is it wrong to suggest that craft distillers
ought to be more historically authentic than
large industrial producers, rather than less?
Here are some suggestions of practices craft
distillers could follow that would give them
an authenticity edge.
Since all American whiskey distilleries, even
the ones that try to look quaint and
old-fashioned, are actually big, modern and
industrial, many American craft distillers
look to Scotland as their model for authentic
whiskey-making. One thing they find is that,
in scotch production by law, the enzymes that
convert grain starch into fermentable sugar
must come from “endogenous enzyme systems”
only, which means they must be produced by
malted grain used as all or part of the mash.
American law has no such requirement, so
synthesized enzymes may be added to the mash,
which means the percentage of malt can be
reduced. This is done primarily to save
money.
A few American whiskey producers do not use
enzymes, but most do. Today both the American
and Scottish whiskey industries employ a mix
of modern industrial technology and
time-honored tradition. Although Scotland
forbids the use of enzymes it permits the
addition of spirit caramel for coloring,
which American law prohibits for straight
whiskey such as bourbon.
If nothing else, forgoing both enzymes and
coloring will give you something to talk
about, a real story that has something to do
with actual product authenticity.
Another example of a pre-industrial practice
that is still adhered to by all of the large,
industrial American whiskey distilleries is
the sour mash process, whereby spent mash is
used to condition new mash. This primarily
keeps pH consistent from batch to batch.
Today, that goal can be achieved more
efficiently in other ways, and in fact
producers of neutral spirits do not use sour
mash, but every American whiskey-maker does.
Do America’s craft distillers use sour mash
when they make whiskey? Not if they’re buying
wash from a brewer.
As for still type, the continuous still has
been universally used in America (both Canada
and the United States) since the mid-19th
century. The characteristic type is a single
column consisting of a large stripping
section topped by a smaller rectification
section. All American whiskey is at least
double-distilled. The first distillation is
in a continuous still, the second is in a pot
still. Multiple distillation is another
pre-industrial practice that neutral
spirits-makers have abandoned but all
whiskey-makers still follow. The practice of
using a column for the first distillation and
a pot for the second is unique to the United
States.
Do American craft distillers double distill?
The modern hybrid still favored by many craft
distillers is popular in part because it
seemingly eliminates the need for a second
distillation. Okay, but then who is more
authentic, the industrial producer who
double-distills or the craft distiller who
doesn’t?
Then there’s yeast. An article written just
after Prohibition about the revival of
whiskey-making in Kentucky referred to most
of the distillers it profiled as “distiller
and yeast-maker.” Yeast, of course, is not
really “made” so much as it is captured and
propagated. Today, most yeast is made by
specialized yeast manufacturers using modern
industrial methods. It comes in bags. The
skill those old Kentuckians possessed was
knowing how to make a liquid medium that
would attract and nurture the ideal yeast
strains for making whiskey. Due to the way it
was captured, that yeast would be unique and
only that distillery would have it. They call
it “jug yeast” because it exists only in its
liquid and active form, and has to be
constantly propagated to survive.
Several major American whiskey-makers use jug
yeast captured in this way decades ago and
propagated ever since. Asked if anyone could
still make a jug yeast from scratch, the best
a hereditary distiller at a major American
whiskey-maker could offer was “maybe.”
Reviving that lost art is a pursuit worthy of
a true artisan.
Making their own malt is something American
whiskey-makers abandoned pretty early,
probably as soon as commercially-produced
malt became available. No industrial American
whiskey-maker does its own malting today, but
a few in Scotland do. You don’t have to make
your own malt to be authentic, depending on
what tradition you want to emulate, but it
certainly is an artisan-type activity.
For example, peat is a historically important
fuel source in Scotland and is traditionally
used as fuel for the heating stage of malt
production. Peat-smoked malt gives the
whiskey a distinctive flavor. Because peat is
not part of any American tradition, one craft
distiller here has experimented with using
wood from native fruit trees instead of peat.
This isn’t traditional per se but is an
innovative way of giving an American spin to
the Scottish practice. It’s something that
gives the final spirit a distinctive flavor
and you won’t get it from a commercial
maltster.
Traditionally, by which I mean up to
Prohibition and for a short time after it,
typical distillation proof for American
whiskey was slightly more than 100°, as was
barrel entry proof, proof at withdrawal and
bottling proof. They were all at right around
100° proof. The modern industrial practice is
to distill out at between 130° and 160°,
enter at the legal maximum of 125°, and
reduce to 80° for bottling. The traditional
practice produces a spirit with a lot of
congeneric flavor, a taste usually described
as “heavy.” Making a low proof spirit that is
palatable requires a very skillful distiller.
If you want to be able to say you are making
whiskey “the old-fashioned way,” unlike the
industrial guys, this is one way to do it.
Part of the disconnect here may be with the
term “distiller” itself. On its face, a
“distiller” runs a still. Fermentate goes in,
distillate comes out. What happens in between
is the distiller’s sole concern. Somebody
else can do the other stuff.
But that’s not true if you look at both the
tradition and the modern industrial practice.
Then and now, the whiskey distiller starts
with whole grains from local farmers and must
verify that the kernels have the right
moisture content, and are unbroken and free
of mold or mildew. The grain is stored whole
and milled only as needed, immediately prior
to mashing.
Sweet, iron-free water is another critical
ingredient. Ideally it will come from an
on-site spring and remain at a consistent
cool temperature all year.
The distiller mashes the freshly milled grain
by mixing it with heated water. As the
distiller prefers, spent mash may be added
during mashing or just prior to fermentation.
The distiller then makes the volume of yeast
mixture needed for the fermentation. The
distiller combines the new mash, spent mash
and yeast in the fermentation vessels, and
oversees the fermentation, which typically
takes three or four days.
After distillation, the new whiskey is
entered into barrels, which go into
warehouses for aging. Like malt, barrels are
an “ingredient” distillers could make
themselves but usually don’t, however a craft
cooperage would be an ideal neighbor for a
craft distillery. The American whiskey
tradition is to use only new, charred barrels
for the top styles such as straight bourbon
and straight rye. Proper barrel aging of
whiskey takes a minimum of four years, but it
is not an entirely passive process. The
distiller periodically checks the progress of
representative barrels and may change their
warehouse location or take other steps if the
whiskey is not aging satisfactorily.
American whiskey-makers ferment their mash
and send it to the still grain solids and
all. There is no wort or wash. Consequently,
distillation yields a slurry-consistency
byproduct known formally as spent mash but
more colloquially as slop.
Since only a fraction of spent mash is used
as backset in the sour mash process, many
distilleries in the past operated feed lots
for cattle or hogs. Slop is protein-rich and
makes a great livestock feed. Today it is
easy enough to truck slop to nearby farmers
so no contemporary distilleries keep
livestock on the premises, but if you did (at
a discrete distance) you could sell artisan
ham and sausage along with your artisan
whiskey.
Finally, one of the distiller’s most
important jobs is deciding when a whiskey is
ready to drink and either bottling it as is,
or combining it with other barrels to create
a whole that is greater than the sum of its
parts. This is another way the personality
and passion of the distiller can make a
tangible difference in the final product.
Although it is rare today for a commercial
distillery to make more than one type of
distillate, e.g., both whiskey and rum,
modern craft distillers seem to want to do
this and it is not entirely unprecedented.
George Washington owned a distillery that
made whiskey, brandy and rum. Historians
believe his operation was typical of American
commercial distilleries in the late 18th –
early 19th century. In his best year,
Washington produced 11,000 gallons of
finished spirit.
The distillery at Mount Vernon has recently
been faithfully restored. If you want to
emulate 18th century distilling practices,
you couldn’t ask for a better model.
Some craft distillers stay away from whiskey
because of the long aging cycle, which is
expensive, and scary because you never know
quite what you’re going to get. Virtually all
American straight whiskey is at least four
years old, most is five or six, and the
better ones are eight years old and up. In
Scotland it’s even worse. Most people don’t
consider a scotch worth drinking unless it’s
at least twelve years old.
Does that mean you’re stuck? If you want to
make whiskey, it’s going to be four or more
years before you will have anything to sell?
Not necessarily. Here is where the whole
“historic authenticity” thing works in your
favor. Despite what many people would have
you believe, the routine aging of whiskey is
not an ancient practice. In George
Washington’s day, and until about the middle
of the 19th century, American whiskey was
rarely aged. The practice of aging it was
adopted slowly and only in the late 19th
century did aged whiskey became more popular
than “common whiskey,” the un-aged variety.
Vodka as we know it today is a product that
didn’t even exist here prior to the mid-20th
century. The historic equivalent was this
“common whiskey,” which was colorless and
sold straight from the still. Unlike vodka,
common whiskey had a pungent flavor and
aroma, which drinkers often masked through
the addition of juices, herbs, spices or
other liquors.
It might take some education to get your
customers to accept a modern “common
whiskey,” but it would be a lot more
authentic than any so-called “artisan vodka.”
What does all this mean for the American
craft distiller of today and tomorrow? It
depends on why you want to distill. If any
part of your reason has to do with affection
for historic authenticity, then you owe it to
yourself to look past the romantic nostrums
that pass for history and learn the real
heritage. If you believe in terrior, then you
may want to limit yourself to American
traditions, ideally those of your region if
it has them.
If historic authenticity is not your thing,
maybe you should think about using a
different tag, such as “experimental
distiller” rather than “craft distiller.”
Maybe you can be both. Just be clear with
yourself and your customers about what you
are doing and why you’re doing it.
Send
your thoughts on this subject
to:
cowdery@rcn.com
====================
This is Rianon Walsh response to Brenden
(From the
last newsletter)
"I think before you print things, you may want
to check out their accuracy. In addition to
the points made below, I should tell you that
in the past Brendan actually took a booth at
the WoW Expo for Sweetwater and was given a
half price booth because I wanted to support
his work.
Im vey sorry that he is unable to see what so
many people who are becoming successful in
the Craft and Independent areas have
discovered--and that is that sampling and
sampling programs are in fact the most
assured way to bring your products to a
maximum number of consumers and to establish
brand loyalty and success. It is also
important that all of us support one another
and this sort of public slamming does no one
any good whatsoever."
Rianon can be reached
at
riannon@celticmalts.com
====================
