With Every Sip, the World is Inescapably Diminished...
Written: Jun 05 '00 (Updated Jun 05 '00)
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Product Rating:
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Pros: The finest sipping whiskey I've found to date
Cons: Only so much left in the world
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| beerfly's Full Review: A.H. Hirsch 16 Year Old Reserve Pot Stilled Sour M... |
I'm looking at my favorite bourbon. It's quite atypical. It comes in a very plain bottle; no "old-time" shapes, no gaudy label, no wax-dip top. It's 16 years old; not the oldest whiskey on the market, but over the mean by quite a bit. It's pot-stilled, the old-fashioned way, the truly small-batch way. But what's truly unique about this bourbon -- and make no mistake: this is a bourbon -- is that it was wholly distilled in Pennsylvania, and thereby hangs a tale.
Back in 1984 I had just finished grad school and was looking for a job. I had a '74 Volvo sedan and a good friend that would accompany me on trips through the Pennsylvania hinterlands, looking for little hole in the wall bars... when I wasn't actively job-hunting. That's how I first found Yuengling, first stood on the hill and touched the time-worn bricks of America's oldest brewery. On one of those trips, we found Michter's, in Shaefferstown.
Michter's was Pennsylvania's last whiskey distillery. Back in the hills on the border of Lancaster and Lebanon counties, by a quiet stream, this small distillery was struggling to stay alive. We took the tour and tried the "quarter-whiskey," nearly clear 90-day old spirit that was probably close to the whiskey drunk in Revolutionary War times. For the distillery was around then, it dates from 1753. We laughed about the moonshine aspect of it, got back in the Volvo and roared off.
I've been back to Michter's since, but only to mourn. After the distillery experienced a brief renaissance in the years between 1956 and 1980, it went belly-up in the late 1980s, and sits mouldering in the rain, warehouses caving in, stillhouse deserted, giftshop empty and bare.
Now I know what I missed. Michter's was the only post-Prohibition pot-stilled whiskey in America, a whiskey made the best way that master distiller Charles Everett Beam (direct descendant of Jakob Beam, Jim Beam's grandfather) knew how. Unfortunately the market wasn't ready for such excellence.
Now it is, and that's a lucky happenstance. Back when the distillery closed, Adolf Hirsch, may his name be praised, bought a large stock of the aged whiskey. It wound up in stainless steel tanks (to suspend the aging process) in Kentucky. It has been released as Hirsch Reserve 16 year old and 20 year old. We have only the 16 to review here, but that's just as well; I prefer the 16.
Some have argued that this cannot be a bourbon. "Straight bourbon whiskey," they say, "must be made in Kentucky." That's not actually so. Straight bourbon whiskey need only comply with these rules:
It must be brewed from a grain bill of no less than 51% corn.
It must come off the final still at no more than 160 proof/80% alcohol.
It must be aged at no more than 125 proof in new, charred oak barrels for a minimum of two years (if it is aged less than four years, the age must appear on the label).
It must be bottled at no less than 80 proof, and without the addition of any coloring or flavoring.
That's federal law, and there is no mention of where said whiskey must be distilled. Note also that Jack Daniel and Dickel make Tennessee whiskey, not bourbon. They must meet all these requirements and use the "Lincoln County Process; the unaged whiskey is "leached" through 10 feet of sugar maple charcoal prior to going in the barrels.
So Hirsch is definitely bourbon, and a damned fine one that edges out all other bourbons, to my tastes. I will admit to a small amount of subjectivity; I am positively enraptured at the thought of a bourbon, my favorite spirit, from Pennsylvania, my ancestral and chosen land. But enough people agree with me that I feel justified in my prejudice.
I wouldn't drink this whiskey with food, mixers, or even ice. I'm generally not a snob about things like that, but this is just so perfect that you should at least try it as is. Pour it in a snifter or a thin-walled wine-glass and hand-warm it. Breathe it deeply and enjoy every molecule.
Let's look at this spirit. It looks 16 years old; it is dark, cherry-wood dark, from 16 hot and humid summers pushing the whiskey into the charred oak's "red layer," from 16 cold Appalachian winters drawing out the red layer's sweet vanilla glory. Shaefferstown is a much different climate from Bardstown, I've lived within 30 minutes drive of both. Sixteen years might have killed a Kentucky bourbon; here in Pennsylvania it was just getting warmed up.
Snuff it up. Oh, rich aromas of vanilla, leather, caramel, and that queer hint of mint/pepper that I love so. You know you've got your nose near to heaven when this comes off the whiskey. It's a cloud of glory, and the longer you hold it and warm it, the bigger it gets. This is a whiskey that will stand up to long inspection with nary a harsh, hot tone; this is whiskey that deserves a snifter.
I've waited long enough. 91 proof never tasted so smooth. The fire spreads on a wavefront of oak-tinged caramel and vanilla, a full running wash of almost oily thickness. This is a flood of flavor, without the thinness of younger, less rich whiskies. Is it the age, or is it the pot still... or is it the care and costs-be-damned attitude with which this whiskey was made? It's impossible to say, so have another sip.
There are brighter, sweeter notes of candy and oranges here. The finish lays on the tongue like a drop of unmeltable syrup, spreading but never dissipating. If only that were true of this finite treasure. It is something of every good bourbon you've ever had, except perhaps the raw power of Old Grand-Dad's rye character. Younger whiskies hint of this glory, older ones promise it, but Hirsch delivers. Van Winkle 15 Year Old comes close, Very Special Old Fitz is a leaner contender, and I'd love to have some Wild Turkey 12 year old nearby to match.
But for now... I have found my favorite, and I will relax with its charms. I know that with every sip I take the world is diminished; there is no more Hirsch when the current supply is gone. But I too am diminished, with every breath, with every heartbeat, with every thought I draw down the store of my life. With company like this, I will stoke the flame a little higher and enjoy the light.
And maybe, sometime, somehow... Michter's will rise again.
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: 82 members
About Me:
One bourbon, one Scotch, one beer, eh? I'll take Kentucky Spirit, Scapa, and HopDevil.
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