The Journey of New York Whiskey

Over a recent autumn feast in the mountains of New York’s Hudson Valley, a dear friend professed that there are mountain people and there are beach people, and the sooner you figure out which you are, the sooner you’ll find a life of contentment.

The mountain life is measured in the drams we call seasons, and to say there are just four is a beachcomber’s simplification. Stretching its limbs from autumn’s bucket-splash vibrancy to winter’s naked edge, November is a season unto itself, with crisp nights made for ambling conversations that move from dinner table to hearth, with the crackling fire glowing through its perfect companion – a tumbler of fine bourbon.

The bourbon our host has poured is a treat to all the senses, and to anyone with warm socks, a thirst for the untried and an appetite for a good story. It’s a small batch artisanal triumph made not in Kentucky, but a stone’s throw away in these same New York mountains – Hudson Baby Bourbon, by Tuthilltown Spirits.

Named Baby Bourbon in tribute to its birth in tiny barrels that big distillers deem impractical, and for the shorter aging times these petit barrels require to bring their cargo to glory, its journey across the palate is a compelling invitation to set out the next day for the Tuthilltown Distillery in Gardiner, NY, ninety minutes north of Manhattan.

The story of Tuthilltown Spirits and its remarkable collection of Hudson Whiskies –the Baby Bourbon and its siblings: Four Grain Bourbon, New York Rye, Single Malt and Corn Whiskey – is a compellingly tangled tale of American farming, prohibition, the rebirth of local artisanal food & drink, irreverent rule-breaking and top notes of pure serendipity.

One of Tuthilltown’s infectious proprietors, a devout seasoned rock climber named Ralph Erenzo, bought a sprawling streamside farm surrounding the historic Tuthiltown Gristmill with the dream of opening a mountain climber’s retreat. The local town board was less enthusiastic, leaving him in search of a new venture. A serendipitous meeting with his eventual partner Brian Lee led to an intriguing ambition – to make the first whiskey distilled in New York since prohibition.

As far back as the Revolution, distilling was a routine farming practice throughout New York State. There were over 200 registered distilleries statewide in the early 20th century. Prohibition turned off the tap, and while its repeal opened the door for large-scale distilleries to resume their trade, the ban on farm distilling remained on the books some seven decades hence.

With some friendly badgering of the state legislature, Ralph won a restoration of farmers’ right to distill, set up a stunning copper still in his barn, and started making whiskey with 100% locally harvested grains.

The rest is not so much history as an intriguing future for whiskey. Brian, Ralph and his son Gable embarked on a journey that married a great respect for whiskey’s history with a desire to push boundaries in a way that the old guard in Kentucky and Scotland would likely consider heresy.

Their bravery is now our bounty.

Instead of locking in on a single type of whiskey and recipe, they embraced the explorer’s spirit. They reached out to neighboring farmers for their freshly harvested barley, sweet corn, rye and other grains, and experimented with new cooperage methods, unlocking extraordinary alchemy of whiskey and charred wood that gives Hudson’s bourbons distinctively seductive notes of vanilla and caramel, and invitingly rich color.

Presented in distinctive, sturdy little apothecary-inspired bottles, sealed in wax and numbered by batch and bottle, Hudson has not only brought a new glow to a night by the fire, but thoroughly simplified the season’s daunting search for inspired gifts. And, I would venture, next year’s as well. I left the distillery in no doubt that the restless spirit of Tuhilltown’s founders will make good use of the year between, with new inspirations to come.