Bourbon Empire by Reid Mitenbuler

Wisconsin a century before whites first started moving into Kentucky, was told by Indians that Kentucky’s cornstalks were bigger than trees, the ears were two feet long, and the kernels were bigger than grapes.
    That, of course, was just the kind of exaggerated storytelling that seems to be part of Kentucky’s DNA. Nevertheless, the corn did grow well there, and was a practical choice for planting in the state’s newly settled rough acreage because it didn’t need as much plowing as smaller grains and could grow faster than the weeds. It exploded out of Kentucky’s legendary soil like fireworks. Whereas Maryland farmland typically produced ten bushels of corn per acre, Kentucky land yielded forty. This was more corn than any single family could consume, leaving surpluses to be distilled into whiskey that wouldn’t spoil and could be used for barter or the inevitable drinking. It must have seemed impossible that the land could ever be exhausted.
    The layer of limestone underneath Kentucky’s rich topsoil was also important to the whiskey. Water bubbled through it to springs, which native Shawnees believed were entrances to the underworld. Shawneewarriors sprinkled tobacco around the springs and asked the spirits for a safe return from hunting missions. Farmer-distillers like Craig found the water a valuable medium to a different variety of spirits. The limestone filtered iron salts from the water and added calcium, which helped yeast thrive during fermentation.
    The land and its economics dictated a whiskey that increasingly resembled modern bourbon: primarily corn, with some rye and a little malted barley. The grain combination was perfect from both a technical standpoint and a flavor perspective. Corn was inexpensive and yielded a relatively high amount of alcohol per bushel, an asset that also made it smart from a business perspective. Rye added flavor and presented a way to use a grain that sometimes struggled to find another purpose (wheat is better for making bread and barley is better for beer). Potential grains outside this trio presented other difficulties. Wheat was relatively expensive, buckwheat becomes gummy and easily scorches, and oats are difficult to work with due to their high bran content—if not fermented fully before beginning distillation, they can boil up into the worm and blow up the still.
    Recipes from the era are rare, but the ones that do exist often indicate mash bills reflecting bourbon. * One distillation manual from the early nineteenth century explained that “if the proportion of one fourth part of rye can be obtained, it is enough.” * The account also indicates that distillers used whatever was at hand and that proportions were rarely standardized, meaning that any modern claims by companies that they are adhering to a strict and ancient “family recipe” from the era are highly questionable. Whiskey still was sold primarily as a bulk commodity and brand names didn’t exist, meaning that consistent flavor as part of a brand’s identity wasn’t an issue. In 1819, Anthony Boucherie published a distilling manual confirming that recipes werebasically free-for-alls, writing that “whiskey is made either with rye, barley, or Indian corn. One, or all those kinds of grains is used, as they are more or less abundant in the country.”
    Regardless of the recipe, quality probably varied. The clear, unaged spirit emerging from most stills was quickly nicknamed “paleface.” It served its practical purpose, but likely didn’t serve the taste buds or the soul. Flavor was improved with fruit, herbs, or oils from clove, anise, or juniper, just as it was with Washington’s rye whiskey. Cherry bounce was one popular recipe made by adding syrup and cherries or bark from the root of a cherry tree steeped in hot water.
    A more sophisticated way to improve the taste involved filtering the spirits through charcoal. This removed the unpleasant flavor of excessive fusel oils and helped give the