"How to eat grass in your liquor"
Written: Nov 06 '00
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Product Rating:
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Pros: Good, cheap, and you can win bets with the label.
Cons: Not as good as the 90 proof version
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| beerfly's Full Review: Virginia Gentleman Bourbon |
Kentuckians hate this bourbon.
But why? It is born in the Bluegrass country. It is mashed, stilled, barreled, and bottled in exacting compliance with the regulations of bourbon-making. It is amber fire in crystal, it is sweet heavy air in the nose, and it is heady delicious nectar on the tongue. What is it about this particular bourbon that grits Kentucky teeth, or brings out a forced nonchalance as they dismiss it with a wave of the hand as heresy?
Why, it's the name. Virginia Gentleman. It's the label that proudly (and correctly!) says "Virginia Bourbon." It may remind Kentuckians that they were once simply a county of the Old Dominion. It may even remind them that their noble, symbolic, and man-killingly delicious drink, the mint julep, came over the mountains from Virginia. It's enough to grizzle a proud son of the Bluegrass, and a few daughters, too.
Too bad. Because this is real, genuine bourbon, and it really is from Virginia. Mostly. More to the point, it's quite drinkable whiskey, if not the biggest or most complex, while its 90 proof big brother (not yet available for review here, let's get on the stick, people!) is damn fine drinking spirit.
What's here? Well, as I said, it is amber in the glass, a relatively pale amber as might be expected from a whiskey that is about 4 years old. The aroma is light, brittle, and sweet, with a spicy rye briskness to it that belies the high rye mashbill. It makes me think of the old Ogden Nash bit about breaking the ice at parties: candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker. Virginia Gentleman covers both bases.
A sip rewards you with a whiskey that may not be big or complex, but it is absolutely flawless. There is no harshness or that flinty rye wall you'll find in whiskies like Old Grand-dad. This is refined stuff, smooth and deliciously light. A small sip spreads out on the tongue with a slight hint of bitter rye oil, hot honey, caramel, a pleasant touch of cocoa, and the wholesome, homey, bourbon-heart taste of sweet corn.
Where does this stuff come from? Why, it comes from Fredericksburg, Virginia. The spirit is rough-distilled in Kentucky at an unnamed distillery (rumor is that it's Heaven Hill), then shipped to Virginia for a final distillation in a hand-hammered pot still in an old cellophane factory in Fredericksburg, the A. Smith Bowman Distillery. More to the point, it is aged (in new, charred white oak barrels) in Virginia, which is its birthright as bourbon. Contrary to popular myth, bourbon most certainly does not have to be made in Kentucky.
Now... about that julep. I've developed quite a taste for juleps and a thirst for their history, for a Yankee. I have in my possession a wonderful little pamphlet entitled "The Mint Julep," by Richard Barksdale Harwell. All evidence points to the mint julep, or "julap," having come from Virginia; indeed, the first published reference to a julep with mint refers to it as "A dram of spiritous liquor that has mint in it, taken by Virginians of a morning." I submit that Virginia Gentleman might be just one of the most authentic julep whiskies around.
I cannot leave this review without adding one of my favorite stories about juleps, also from Harwell's pamphlet, which concerns a certain "gentleman from Virginia" who stops at a Kentucky inn. He spies a bed of mint and, having ascertained (to his horror) that the innkeeper is not aware of what use can be made of it, calls for sugar, ice, and whiskey to correct his host's errant ways.
The host takes to the julep firmly (of course), and extracts a promise from the traveler to stop in on his return. When the traveler does return, he finds the innkeeper dead three months earlier, and his "retainer" tells the Virginian the cause: "one of dem Virginny genman come long here last year, and show'd him how to eat grass in his liquor; he liked it so well he done stuck to it till it kill him." I know the danger well.
He might have been better off with Louisville legend "Marse Henry" Watterson's julep recipe: "Pluck the mint gently from its bed, just as the dew of the evening is about to form on it. Select the choicer sprigs only, but do not rinse them. Prepare the simple syrup and measure out a half-tumbler of whiskey. Pour the whiskey into a well-frosted silver cup, throw the other ingredients away, and drink the whiskey."
With bourbon this good, you can't go wrong with advice like that.
Recommended:
Yes
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Epinions.com ID:
beerfly
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Member: Lew Bryson
Location: Philadelphia, PA
Reviews written: 88
Trusted by: 79 members
About Me:
One bourbon, one Scotch, one beer, eh? I'll take Kentucky Spirit, Scapa, and HopDevil.
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