vinepair: Tequila Isn’t the Only Spirit to Use Additives. Why Aren’t We Talking About the Others?

WORDS:SUSANNAH SKIVER BARTON

Spirits additives have been in the news a lot lately, almost solely in relation to tequila. A clash between the independently run Additive Free Alliance and the Consejo Regulador del Tequila (CRT), tequila’s regulatory body, has chilled the growing movement for transparency in the category, and currently, per the CRT, no brands may legally discuss use or non-use of additives — which are legal — on their packaging or in their marketing. The stalemate seems likely to continue without a satisfying resolution unless and until the regulator and the industry can reach a compromise.

Meanwhile, many other spirits use additives, too, almost always without explicit disclosure: Cognac, rum, Scotch, and many more. Sometimes they employ caramel coloring to make a brand appear consistent from batch to batch, or to give the impression of greater cask influence. They may add sugar to sweeten a spirit or impart a rounder, more pleasing mouthfeel. Other additives can mimic the impact of prolonged oak aging, or layer on flavors to simulate more complexity.

The conflict in tequila has cast the issue of additives in black-and-white terms. For many spirits enthusiasts, additives are seen as deceptive, a way to cheat the natural processes at play in fermentation, distillation, and maturation. But that binary framework isn’t the only way of understanding the issue.

“Additives are not necessarily bad,” says Nicolas Palazzi, founder of PM Spirits, which imports tequila, rum, Cognac, and other spirits. “Yes, most of the time the product is subpar and therefore to make it more palatable … you need to put makeup on it.” But, he explains, there are other examples when using additives “makes a better product.” The key difference, Palazzi says, is “the way they’re used and why they’re used.”

Examining the legacy and tradition of additives across the spirits world can shed some light on the debate, even as it remains largely unsettled. The core issues at play — transparency and consumer choice — aren’t going away. And potential solutions could take a number of forms.

Whiskey’s History of Additives

Additive use in spirits was historically quite common. In the 19th-century United States, rectifiers added everything from prune juice to turpentine to their “whiskey” — often badly made or unaged spirit — to make it appear older or taste better. The practice directly led to the passage of the Bottled-in-Bond Act of 1897, which set the first standards for truth in labeling and made it clear to consumers that the whiskey in the bottle was unadulterated. Today, bourbon and other straight whiskeys are not allowed to contain any additives. Non-straight whiskeys and blends, including blends of straight whiskeys, may include up to 2.5 percent allowed coloring and flavoring materials without disclosure.

These are settled questions of law, and for the most part, whiskey drinkers aren’t clamoring for more information from brands — although there was a period, circa 2014–2015, when added flavoring in Templeton Rye became a flashpoint for what was then a new conversation about transparency in whiskey. A commentator named Steve Ury wrote a blog post at the time digging into whether ryes that did not include a “straight” designation might include added flavor. The exercise is still valid a decade, and many dozens of other brands, later, but doesn’t seem to stir up much conversation currently.

The additive that many drinkers do want to know about is caramel coloring, which is widely permitted outside straight American whiskey, including in heavily regulated categories like Scotch. It’s almost a guarantee that every blended Scotch, Irish, and Canadian whisky includes caramel for consistent color, as do many single malts and premium offerings, but there’s no requirement for disclosure. Still, some brands now tout “no added color” as part of their labeling and marketing — often alongside “non-chill filtered,” a Bat Signal for whiskey connoisseurs who believe the common practice has a negative impact on a whiskey’s flavor.

The Wide World of Rum Additives

Rum can contain caramel coloring, too, and often many other additives, though it is not a total free-for-all everywhere. Several rums are made under the rules of an established geographical indication (GI), including Jamaican, Cuban, and Demerara rums, as well as rhum agricole. GI-regulated rums typically eschew most additives, with the exceptions of caramel coloring — which is broadly permitted — and sugar, which several GIs allow. A major exception is the GI for Venezuelan rum, which allows “caramel, fresh or dry fruit macerations, bark, maceration of oak chips, and other approved substances.”

“If a brand puts that level of transparency and disclosure out there and the enthusiasts like it, they’re going to tell their friends. [They may be] half a percentage of your business, but they’re the ones talking to bartenders and bar managers.”

Beyond GI regulations, rum producers only have to work within the constraints of their permitting authority and those of the places they export to, which broadly means additives of all kinds may be used. Sugar is perhaps most common, not only because there’s historical precedent for it in many rum traditions, but because it’s widely favored by consumer palates.

“They’ve been [adding sugar] for hundreds of years,” says Matt Pietrek, rum expert and author of several books, including “Modern Caribbean Rum.” “Not in any attempt to deceive people; it’s more like, this tastes good and people like it.”

Palazzi agrees. “Most of the rums that people like are sweet, because they’re sweetened,” he says. “A lot of people feel that if the rum is dry there’s something wrong with it.”

Though Pietrek notes that he prefers dry, additive-free rums, he’s in favor of letting each producer make the rum they want. And he’d love to see producers across the rum world adopt some kind of transparency measure, like nutritional labeling, to give consumers more information about what’s in the spirit.

“Consumers can vote with their dollars,” he says, pointing out how Planteray includes a host of detailed information on the label, including how much dosage (added sugar) it includes. “Great! Literally any producer can do this.”

A Legacy in Cognac

For Cognac, in addition to caramel coloring, there’s a long tradition of adding both sugar and a substance called boisé, sometimes described as oak extract. All three additives may be aged before being blended with the spirit, though they aren’t necessarily. The use of boisé dates back to at least the 19th century and is rooted in what Amy Pasquet, one half of the husband-and-wife team at Cognac Pasquet, describes as a “waste-not, want-not” mentality. After distilling the spirit, wood chips left over from coopering were put into the still with water, their tannins serving to strip the interior of gunk. That liquid, rich with woody flavors, was then used to proof down the aged Cognac.

“Instead of saying we don’t add anything, we say everything is natural. Whiskey people really want that on the label.”

Nowadays, most boisé is produced commercially rather than in-house, and it’s likely widely employed in the leading houses. Many experts say boisé is not just an imitation of maturation. Ury, who shifted his attention from whiskey to brandy many years ago and now runs the Facebook group Serious Brandy, notes that it “may well be responsible for a lot of the rancio notes that people favor in Cognac.”

Although there are several independent, small Cognac houses — like Pasquet — that don’t use boisé or other additives, the substance’s longstanding legacy is respected by many connoisseurs like Ury. “It’s not as if [brands using boisé] are scam artists or something — it’s just a different way of doing things,” he says.

The rise in openly additive-free Cognac is relatively recent, spurred by whiskey enthusiasts migrating their attention to French brandy. Though it once made its own boisé, Pasquet stopped using additives in 2011; labels now state that the Cognac is hand-bottled, non-chill filtered, non-dosed, and natural color. “Instead of saying we don’t add anything, we say everything is natural,” Pasquet explains, noting that the brand’s German importer encouraged the labeling disclosure. “Whiskey people really want that on the label.”

Pasquet and its ilk represent a tiny fraction of overall Cognac volumes, but consumers’ desire for more information has penetrated even the big houses. A cohort of industry players that includes the likes of Hennessy, Rémy Martin, and Martell have agreed to voluntarily disclose ingredients, excluding boisé, on their labels or via QR code going forward. (VinePair reached out to the Bureau National Interprofessionnel du Cognac, the industry’s trade group, for clarification on why boisé is not included but has not received a response.)

How Many People Really Care, Though?

In spite of the furor of the additive debate among spirits enthusiasts, the issue isn’t even on the radar for the vast majority of consumers. “The people who really care are going to look for transparency and how the product is made and whether there are additives,” says Palazzi. “But there’s a lot of people who couldn’t care less.”

The average Hennessy VS drinker isn’t checking the label to see if there’s added sugar. Captain Morgan fans, if they stop to think about it, would likely accept without hesitation that the rum is full of flavoring. Only the hobbyists, those who self-identify as geeks, are concerned about whether their whiskey or brandy or rum has caramel coloring.

But although this group is a small minority, it’s often quite vocal — and usually willing to spend more on a bottle than the casual drinker. To a brand looking to cultivate that kind of engaged customer, playing up additive-free status can be a savvy marketing move.

“If a brand puts that level of transparency and disclosure out there and the enthusiasts like it, they’re going to tell their friends,” Pietrek says. “[They may be] half a percentage of your business, but they’re the ones talking to bartenders and bar managers. If you give them what they want, they will be your de facto brand ambassadors.”

And eventually, the movement that starts among the geeks can ripple outward. “Twenty-five years ago, no one cared about caramel in Scotch — that wasn’t a thing,” Ury says. Then enthusiasts started questioning the practice. “It was consumer-driven and you started seeing bottles saying ‘no coloring added,’” he says.

So even though the issue is moot for the majority of consumers, spirits brands still have to address it if they care about their most engaged fans. The conversation ultimately boils down to the broader issue of transparency, which has driven much of the consumer conversation in food and drink in the past few decades. People want to know what they’re putting in their bodies, and when brands don’t disclose that, mistrust can grow.

Piecemeal efforts from individual brands can be a workable approach, if they’re allowed to share information openly — something every category can currently do except for tequila. Potentially more effective are industry-wide moves like the one taking shape in Cognac. But the biggest game-changer would be mandated reporting from regulatory authorities like the Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau (TTB).

The agency is currently considering a proposal to add certain nutrition facts to alcoholic beverages, similar to those found on food, including major allergens and calories per serving. But it stops short of requiring an actual ingredients list, and any public rollout is likely years away, if it ever occurs at all. For now, consumers looking for full transparency about a given spirit are largely at the mercy of individual brands. Those that talk openly about ingredients like additives serve as an example to others.

“I would love to see more transparency in Cognac,” Pasquet says. “We work for that day and night.”

bon appétit: How One Man’s Obsession with Fruit Created the UK’s Most Exquisite Spirits

Barney Wilczak and his tiny distillery are bottling the wildness of the orchard.

BY OSAYI ENDOLYN

May 12, 2025

“The fruit is coming.”

The urgent phone call that Barney Wilczak anticipates typically comes in the middle of the night. The caller is one of his local farmer partners who has just walked their orchards to touch, smell, and taste the fruit. The brief exchange notifies Wilczak that the quince, perry pears, blood oranges, raspberries, or damson plums destined for distillation are ready to harvest. A distiller of groundbreaking eaux de vie, Wilczak describes his work as being “in service to the fruit.” Part of that service is to represent the fruit at its highest level of flavor, to harness its essence. So the processing must begin right away. Wilczak takes the farmer’s call as his cue, rises in the early darkness, and prepares to receive by the truckload literal tons of fruit.

Wilczak built Capreolus Distillery in 2016, on the same property as his childhood home in Cotswold, southwest England. His eaux de vie have an almost unnerving ability to transport the drinker to those abundant fields. The region is known for its endemic fruits, many of which don’t appear in other parts of the world. The name Capreolus refers to the deer that frequent Wilczak’s garden. “They’re the most beautiful native deer we have and they’re so ephemeral,” he says. “You see them and then they disappear. It felt apt, as we try to capture things that only last for moments.”

That late night/early morning phone call from Wilczak’s farmer collaborator wouldn’t have been a surprise. Wilczak firmly believes that production revolves entirely around the wisdom of the trees and the people who cultivate them, not marketing drives or quarterly sales targets. Every piece of fruit that arrives at the distillery is hand-sorted to check for outliers of “too much softness or spring,” before it is hand-pressed and guided through distillation and bottling.

Hand-sorting gooseberries at Capreolus. Photograph By Barney Wilczak

You might say that Wilczak practices a type of conservation: His farming supports much-needed biodiversity, and drinkers around the world can experience hyperlocal plants they wouldn’t otherwise have access to. The quince evokes notes of cinnamon, fig, and dark cherry. It tastes of earth yet bright twig and leaf—to drink these eaux de vie is to be situated in terrain.

“Last year we spent 7.5 hours sorting 700,000 individual raspberries. That’s 3.6 tons,” Wilczak says, with a look of bewilderment. All that fruit, time, and effort across a team of four people, yielded roughly three hundred 375-ml bottles. With a sense of pride and maybe surrender, he adds, “It’s ridiculous.”

Wilczak has fans, if not acolytes, of his so-called ridiculousness. Among them, famed cocktail bartender Ryan Chetiyawardana, professionally known as Mr. Lyan, who features Capreolus eaux de vie at Seed Library in London’s Shoreditch, Washington D.C. bar Silver Lyan, and Super Lyan in Amsterdam. He credits Dawn Davies of The Whisky Exchange for introducing him to the spirit. “It was revolutionary to try an eau de vie that represents my favorite fruits as a UK native,” Chetiyawardana says. “Barney sees the whole essence of the plant as not just a biological creature, but what it stands for. I was flabbergasted.”

A view of the orchard

Preserving nature in the bottle

Wilczak found distilling through his love of nature. As a student he thrived in botany and biology, but couldn’t make sense of working nonstop in a lab. He pivoted to study photography and specialized in conservation. In brief, he became a plant photojournalist. “I was photographing habitat restoration on six continents, building media libraries for botanic gardens in 118 countries.” Alongside his studies, he developed a hobby for making ciders, exploring the technicalities of distillation and méthode traditionnelle, a style of winemaking that involves a secondary fermentation in the bottle. The leap to distilling was not a huge jump. “It all comes down to a love for plants.”

As he approached age 30, Wilczak experienced “a bit of a life crisis.” He didn’t want to only document plants for visual archives. He wanted to promote the growth and appreciation of those plants for others. “I realized that people are obsessed with varietal differences in wine, but it’s also true of every single fruit.”

When Wilczak launched Capreolus, his bank account was overdraft by eight pounds, but supported by his partner Hannah Morrison, whose taste became imperative to Wilczak’s process. Everything was once done by hand and muscle, though he’s since acquiesced to buying a mill. He committed to work with farmers within a fifty-mile radius of his home-distillery, and just recently purchased meadowland to plant quince trees, which will soon bring that particular eau de vie production within range (it was previously the lone outlier).

His focus on local farmers came down to pay equity. “Early on I was talking to someone in Finland about wild-picked cranberries and they said, ‘We’ll get them to you for 2 euros per kilo.’ I knew that was really really cheap for wild-picked fruit,” he explains. The fruit would be picked in Russia. “What are the labor laws there? What are people getting paid?” Wilczak wanted to work with people he could meet, with operations he could see. “We wanted to pay people a proper wage, focused on farming well,” he says, a nod to the price point of his lineup, which can range from about $90 to $185.

With his local focus, he learned that there was not “a single piece of overlap in flavor or aroma.” The realization inspired him to learn how these individual expressions manifested. He spent about seven years studying fruit distillation practices in epicenters of Austria, Germany, Italy, and France, and translating non-English books on the subject.

After distilling perry pears from 200-year-old 45-foot trees, Wilczak was shocked. The distillation didn’t smell like fruit. “It smelled like sun-warmed bark, ripe and unripe wood, autumnal leaves, and almost like the grass around the trees,” he says. “My self-guided education had a huge focus on a technological, yield-driven way of working, but that robbed the eau de vie of complexity and organic structure,” he continues. “I became interested in making eaux de vie that are truly organic and expressive of where they come from.” That meant becoming dogmatic about respecting the inherent knowledge of the trees and the ecosystems that allowed them to produce such varied fruit. “Suddenly, the eaux de vie started to smell like the orchards.”

Black currant eau de vie in progress. Photograph By Barney Wilczak

Around the world with eaux de vie

In New York City, Jorge Riera, wine director at Frenchette, Le Roc, and the newly revamped Le Veau d’Or, features Capreolus eaux de vie as the finishing touch on leisurely, decadent meals. “It’s mind-blowing,” Riera says. “The delicacy, the finesse, the floral notes that Barney gets out of it. I was blown away.”

Riera first tasted the lineup in 2018 in Vienna, Austria, at Karakterre, a 14-year-old natural wine conference celebrating producers primarily from central and eastern Europe (the festival now has a NYC iteration going into its fourth year). Riera immediately called his importer, PM Spirits, to see about getting Capreolus to the States. “With the raspberry eau de vie, you feel the fuzz of the fruit in the nose,” he goes on. “They work with nature and it’s beautiful. But for me, I see the result at the dining table. I see the emotions from people immediately.”

One of the more evocative eaux de vie is the damson plum, a quintessential British fruit. “Old recipes of distilling damson take on this slightly jammy, tart note,” Chetiyawardana says. “Barney manages to capture the smell of the blossoms as you walk past the bush. It has that white flower elegance. The purple fruit notes encapsulate the tartness of the skin and the yield of the flesh. It pulls through to this wonderful fresh almond note from the kernel.”

For this writer, Capreolus eaux de vie feels like falling into a safe, warm memory you didn’t know you had. The damson plum is an example of Wilczak’s conservation ideology: “No one knows what to do with a cooking plum; it’s something we’ve lost from our vocabulary. We can let these things slip away. But if we want those genetics as a resource given changing climate, we have to give a justification for them to be grown.” His exquisite bottles make for a compelling reason. The only experience better than sipping Capreolus is to share it with someone as willing to be moved as you.

Wine Enthusiast: The Most Memorable Bottles We Drank in 2023

Any seasoned imbiber knows that the quality of a drinking experience is far more than the sum of its parts. After all, a great wine is not merely great because it drinks finely. It’s great because of the atmosphere in which it’s enjoyed—in an exquisite locale, perhaps, or alongside cherished friends. Key, too, is the story behind the bottle: who made it and how, why and when. Knowing these things in no way chemically alters what’s in the glass, but it certainly has the power to alter one’s perception of it. The mind, after all, is a taster’s most important tool.

These were the things we asked Wine Enthusiast’s team of editors and contributors to consider when we asked them to name the bottles they found most notable in 2023. In this list are exquisite wines drunk in unlikely places (including, for example, alongside a highway in France) and made through unusual means (say, aged at the bottom of the sea). There are also limited-release spirits, including one that matured in the constantly-rocking hull of a schooner and an eau de vie whose maker’s attention to detail borders on obsessiveness.

Do these bottles have the power to inspire you? Perhaps, once reading these stories, they will.

Navazos Palazzi Vermut Rojo

“One of my favorite sips this year was Navazos Palazzi Vermut Rojo, a Spanish red vermouth. It’s a collab between Sherry negociant Equipo Navazos and Nicolas Palazzi of importer PM spirits. It’s made with a base of oloroso Sherry, so it’s deeper and richer than most red vermouths, but enlivened with touches of bitter orange and savory spice. I enjoyed it in Manhattans (it plays nicely with rye whiskey) as well as poured over ice. I see why Spain is a fan of ‘la hora del vermut’ (the vermouth hour).” —Kara Newman, Writer at Large

Capreolus Raspberry Eau de Vie 2019

“Barney Wilczak, the proprietor of the U.K.–based Capreolus Distillery, uses 30 kilograms of perfectly ripe and healthy raspberries to produce only one liter of the Raspberry Eau de Vie. His quest for the highest–quality product can be described as obsessive. However, it allows him to capture and preserve the essence of each fruit so precisely. The raspberry stands out, with its complexity, length and incredible purity.” —Aleks Zecevic, Writer at Large

SPIRITS: THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG

BY ANTONIO GALLONI | DECEMBER 08, 2022

It all started innocently enough. Over the last few years, I have seen a marked increase in spirits made by winemakers. I thought it would be fun to taste them and write them all up. That was the genesis for this report. But then more and more samples arrived, and before I knew it, the article had morphed into a broad survey of spirits of all kinds. This article is clearly not comprehensive to any one category, but rather intended as a collection of spirits I think Vinous readers will enjoy.

As I started tasting through these spirits, I wondered if my approach to tasting wine and Champagne would be applicable, or if instead, I needed an entirely new methodology for looking at quality. I asked myself if there are really marked differences between several raspberry eaux de vie, for example. It turns out spirits can absolutely be assessed for aromatics, fruit, texture, finish and a number of criteria used in evaluating wine. If anything, the alcohol in most categories acts as an amplifier of those qualities and also accentuates both strengths and flaws. And yes, raspberry eaux de vie can be very different.

Where possible I have indicated lot numbers, although these aren’t always available in the world of spirits. I would like to see that change so consumers can know they are buying the same product I tasted and reviewed. In this regard, parts of the spirits world share some basic principles with other beverages such as NV Champagne, but also soft drinks and beer, where the goal is to create a ‘consistent’ product from year to year. There are virtues in that, and it is a skill, but I believe small batch bottlings that are differentiated are far more interesting, certainly far more interesting for the inquisitive reader looking for something that is truly distinctive. For now, I have relaxed the rule I have for NV Champagne where I only review bottlings that have a base vintage or disgorgement date listed.

But that does make me wonder what the future is for craft spirits. About a decade ago, I sat in the Krug tasting room with then-CEO Margareth Henriquez and Olivier Krug and explained that I would not review their Grande Cuvée because there was no way to ensure the batch I tasted was the same wine in the market. I suggested adding a base vintage or disgorgement date, which would differentiate releases, make each release special, and then, in time create opportunities for thematic tastings and/or special packaging, like mixed cases. “Our customers have no interest in this information,” was the reply.

Readers might find this hard to believe, but at the time, the Grand Cuvée struggled mightily in the market. It did not sell. And this was not that long ago. For a time, the half bottles were dumped in elite New York City restaurants (likely elsewhere too), where they were sold for next to nothing. Then, Krug began experimenting with thematic names for each release, before settling on the Edition system. A stroke of genius. Guess what happened? For the first time ever, Grande Cuvée became an allocated wine. All sorts of comparative tastings emerged, as did boxed sets that offer a combination of releases.

To be sure, spirits are different. Many are made in tiny quantities and on a far smaller scale than wine or Champagne. Unlike wine, bottles are opened and often enjoyed over a period of time, so comparative tastings are less the norm. Even so, I would like to see better and more consumer-friendly labeling. There is a possible parallel with the world of grower Champagne, where an increasing number of producers detail varietal breakdown and the exact source of their fruit. Why would that not be applicable to a fine source of pears or raspberries for eau de vie, or a specific breakdown of lots in a Cognac? All information like that does is create greater consumer interest.

I tasted the spirits in this report in November and December 2022.

The Eau de Vie Damson Plum from Capreolus is laced with hints of dried fruit, crushed flowers, herbs, mint and red stone fruit. Exotic and nuanced the Plum Brandy is exquisite. It is an especially floral, savory plum spirit. This fruit was sourced in Vale of Evesham, This is bottle 118 of 336.

The Eau de Vie Raspberry melds together plenty of fruit character, but in a serious, almost imposing style. This is not an easygoing spirit at all. Then again, approximately 75 pounds of fruit yield one liter of eau de vie. Sweet floral and herbal accents add lift. There is a bit of angularity and that leaves the Raspberry feeling a bit tense next to the other eaux de vie in the range. This is bottle 257 of 301.

The Eau de Vie Quince is floral, lifted and also very refined on the palate. A spirit of understatement and class, the Quince is soft-spoken, with impeccable balance, fine length and tons of sheer appeal. Dried floral and herbal notes resonate on the finish, but it is the overall balance I am most drawn to here. This is bottle 48 of 116.

The Eau de Vie Poire Williams (100% Bartlett Pear) from Cazottes is fabulous. Creamy and textured, the Poire Williams soars out of the glass with stunning aromatic complexity. Soft contours add raciness to this decidedly polished, exuberant eau di vie. The style is one of sublime refinement and class - perhaps too much for some palates - but all the elements are so well balanced. This release is a total knockout.

The Eau de Vie Reine Claude Doreé (100% Greengage Plum) is a wild, exotic eau de vie. The aromatics alone are crazy. A whole range of floral and savory top notes give the Reine Claude Dorée its distinctive personality. Fruit is more in the background in this captivating spirit from Laurent Cazottes. The bright, clean finish is a thing of beauty.

The Haut-Armagnac La Réserve is very pretty, aromatic and lifted. What this young Haut-Armagnac lacks in age it more than makes up for with its exquisite balance and finesse. There are no hard edges whatsoever. Sweet spice, leather and floral notes give the Réserve notable aromatic presence to match its mid-weight personality. La Réserve is a blend of young Ugni Blanc and Colombard, usually about six years old, aged in 100% new French oak and bottled at 45% abv.

The 2011 Haut-Armagnac La Flamme (Ugni Blanc, Colombard) is a blend of single barrels bottled at full proof. Rich and explosive, La Flamme is a heady, exotic Haut-Armagnac that delivers the goods big time. Here, too, the balance is exquisite, especially for a spirit that is a little more than a decade old. Light caramel, spice, herb, maraschino cherry and toast notes build into the pure, persistent finish. This is a terrific showing. Abv is 50.5%.

The 1994 Brut de Fût is a single cask blend of 65% Ugni Blanc and 35% Colombard bottled at cask strength, unfiltered and with no additives. Gently mellowed by time, the 1994 is a wonderfully expressive Armagnac. Soft contours wrap around a gentle core of macerated cherry, spice, leather, dried herbs and light caramel notes. This is all understatement and elegance. I very much admire the precision here. Spring frost and a dry summer yielded a small crop of ripe grapes. The 1994 spent a total of 27 years in wood.

The Cognac Grand Champagne Chai Paradis Très Vieille Réserve is a single cask bottling from Frapin's Paradis cellar. Hints of smoke, caramel, dried flowers, leather and orange peel lend notable aromatic presence. A Cognac of understatement and finesse, the Très Vieille Réserve is wonderfully expressive right out of the gate. Abv is 42.8%.

The Eau de Vie de Cidre Double Zero is gorgeous. It was made from more than thirty varieties of apples, blending bitter, bittersweet, sweet and sweet varieties. Fruit is harvested, then cellared for a few months to concentrate the flavors, before fermentation and distillation begin. Laser-like in its focus, with gorgeous aromatics, this eau de vie is seriously impressive. A glass will provide pleasure to both the hedonistic and intellectual senses. This is L.20.

The Rhum Agricole Organic is a powerful spirit that makes its full-proof felt. Flavors and textures are dialed up to eleven. Hints of lime, ginger and spice add complexity to this intense, wonderfully complex rum. Although a bit of a splurge, I would be thrilled to have it on my bar for cocktails. The Organic is made from hand-harvested sugar cane, distilled in copper creole stills and bottled at 71.2% abv

The Rhum Agricole Les Mangles is a single parcel, single cane rum. Rich and explosive in feel, the Mangles possesses tremendous depth right out of the gate. Dried flowers, leather, earthiness, herbs and a touch of mint add striking complexity, but more than anything, the Mangles is a rum of textural density. Pretty floral and spice accents round out the finish. It's another intense, full-bodied rum from Père Labat, bottled at 70.7% abv.

The 2009 Single Barrel Fut is a tiny bottling of 12-year-old Rhum Agricole aged in a bourbon barrel. Soft and delicate, with striking complexity, the 2009 is lights out. Maraschino cherry, spice, dried flowers, orange peel, leather, cedar, chocolate and sweet toasted oak lend tons of aromatic and flavor complexity. The 2009 is outstanding, but readers have to expect a rum with a pretty strong oak imprint. Time in wood does seem to attenuate the power found in Père Labat's young Rhum Agricole. The 2009 Single Barrel was bottled at 61% abv. I loved it.

The Armagnac Les Carré des Fantômes is a single parcel field-blend bottling of Plant de Graisse, Mauzac Blanc, Meslier St François, Jurançon Blanc, Mauzac Rosé and Clairette de Gascogne, six nearly extinct varieties. It is an especially airy, floral and savory style of Armagnac, maybe a bit classically austere in profile, but also incredibly intriguing. Light in color, with slightly nutty, oxidative overtones, the Carré des Fantômes is an absolutely gorgeous spirit. It is a beautiful, eccentric Armagnac that requires an inquisitive palate to fully appreciate. Batch 08.

The 1990 Single Cask Armagnac is a fabulous choice for readers looking for an Armagnac with the gentle, burnished character that only comes from long maturation in cask. Soft and engaging, the 1990 is an absolute delight. Scents of dried figs, spice, caramel, crushed herbs, leather, barrel toastiness and dried flowers are all woven together. No topping during aging results in a spirit with gorgeous complexity that develops in a very gradual oxidation that has taken place over more than thirty years. Lovely.

The 2006 Calvados Single Cask was distilled from a mix of more than 40 varieties of apples and spent 15 years in French oak prior to being bottled at cask strength. It offers a gorgeous combination of bright fruit and the more complex notes conferred by aging in barrel, all with the softness achieved with time. Gentle smoke, spice, leather, orange peel and dried flowers all grace this exquisite, wonderfully complex, delicate Calvados.

The Armagnac XO from L'Encantada is a blend of eight barrels spanning vintages 2006 to 1986 from five different domaines. It marries the power of Armagnac with notable elegance and tons of finesse. A spirit with no hard edges and fabulous balance, the XO is magnificent. Fruit, floral, spice, dried fruit, caramel and subtle oak notes are all beautifully woven together. The XO is a fabulous introduction to a range mostly composed of single barrel offerings. The purity here is just superb. This is bottled at cask strength, so there is plenty of intensity, yet this lies on the more refined side of Armagnac.

The Corn Whisky Bota NO 2021 is a single barrel bottling made from 100% Spanish corn from the joint venture between Equipo Navazos and importer Nicolas Palazzi. It was aged for 15 years in an Oloroso Sherry cask, with no topping (hence the designation 'NO') and bottled at full proof. A powerful, explosive spirit, the Corn Whisky is packed with scents of scorched earth, game, leather and earthiness. There's not a lot of subtlety here, but I doubt that is the point. Bottled in 2021.

The Cognac Hommage a Yves & Jean-Noel Pelletan is a tiny blend comprised of one barrel of 1965 and a few demijohns going back to 1925. It is the last bottling from Palazzi's days of buying and blending Cognacs under his own label. Quite potent in the glass, the Hommage is a bit rustic, but also incredibly authentic in feel. The explosive power is palpable. It's a Cognac for readers who appreciate structure and body more than restraint. The Hommage was bottled at cask strength and dedicated to master coopers Yves and Jean-Noel Pelletan.

The Eau de Vie Gravenstein Apple is packed with fruit flavor, spice and strong dried white notes. There's wonderful savoriness and tartness to balance some of that fruity character, along with tons of depth and what comes across as strong skin character. This is one of four eau de vies in Rochelt's gift box set.

The Eau de Vie Morello Cherry is one of my favorite eau de vies in this collection. Creamy and expansive, the Morello is all finesse. Crushed red-fleshed fruit, spice, sweet floral accents and a kick of warmth all come together in a spirit that is impeccably balanced from start to finish. The depth and explosive complexity here are off the charts. This is one of four eau de vies in Rochelt's gift box set.

Rochelt's Eau de Vie Wachau Apricot is ridiculously great. Intensely aromatic, Wachau with almost tropical overtones, the Apricot is so expressive from the very first taste. Yellow orchard fruit, ginger and soaring aromatics stain the palate. It's an eau de vie that deeply satisfies both the hedonistic and intellectual senses. I will remember tasting it for a very, very long time. What a knockout. This is one of four eau de vies in Rochelt's gift box set.

The Eau de Vie Quince starts off quite subtle and then explodes through the mid-palate and into the finish. Strong mineral and earthy undertones give the Quince uncommon complexity to play off fruit flavors. Deep and expansive, with tons of character, the Quince is wonderfully complete, but also quite imposing. There's a ton of power and substance here, with an almost phenolic quality that lingers on the finish. This is one of four eau de vies in Rochelt's gift box set.

The Eau de Vie Mirabelle Plum was distilled in 2009, and then aged in glass balloons, in the classic Rochelt style. It is wild, penetrating and full of character. The feeling here is one of focus and length, more than the body found in some of the other eau de vies in this collection. Sweet floral and savory notes continually open in a spirit of uncommon finesse and nuance. The Mirabelle hovers on the palate with wonderful elegance. What a knockout.

Navazos Palazzi Malt Whiskey Cask Strength [Palo Cortado Single Cask] Review

The Whiskey Tribe review of Navazos Palazzi Malt Whiskey (Palo Cortado). Spanish malt finished in a unique and rare style of Sherry cask.

‘We Stand for Non-Bullsh*t Products’: Why Blended Whiskey Makers Are Openly Discussing Their Spirits

From Barrell Craft Spirits to Mic Drop, a new wave of NDP's talk eschewing "tradition" to make unique bourbons.

Joe Beatrice spends his day tasting whiskey, assessing the character of the contents of barrel after barrel throughout his multiple maturation warehouses. It’s one of his jobs, along with his two full-time blenders, to know the flavor profiles of the over 10,000 casks of bourbon and rye they own. But while this is standard work at a distillery, what’s different about Barrell Craft Spirits, the company Beatrice founded in 2013, is that it’s never distilled a drop.

Barrell is one of the most celebrated of the new wave of non-distilling producers, or NDPs. In and of themselves, NDPs are nothing new; if you drink American whiskey, you’ve probably enjoyed many of them over the years, perhaps without even knowing it. Bulleit, for example. Or Redemption Rye, Templeton or Angel’s Envy. The list goes on.

Historically, NDPs haven’t been eager to highlight the fact that they don’t make their own whiskey. Bourbon, it was believed, was all about tradition, so there was an incentive to invent a fanciful yarn to suggest authenticity. But Barrell tells you as much as it can about what’s in the bottle, which might include where the whiskey was purchased and how old it is. “There’s no fake backstory,” Beatrice says. “I didn’t come across the blending recipe in my grandfather’s trunk. I didn’t get it from a Conestoga wagon.” The company simply buys barrels of liquid distilled by others, then employs in-house expertise to blend them into something exciting and new. “The notion that it can only be good if you make it yourself is crazy,” Beatrice says.

Since 2007, a distillery called High West in Park City, Utah, has been quietly leading the way on the concept of honest sourcing. Master distiller Brendan Coyle ranks transparency at “the top of the values list of the company.” High West, along with other pioneers such as Smooth Ambler, distills its own whiskey but also sources it from others (largely from the massive MGP plant in Indiana), using blending and imagination to concoct something unique, such as A Midwinter Night’s Dram, a blend of two types of rye finished in French-oak port barrels and released every fall to eager drinkers and collectors. Coyle likens blending to art; this hybrid approach, he says, is akin to having more colors with which to paint.

From left to right: Barrell Bourbon, A Midwinter Nights Dram whiskey, Mic Drop. Barrell Craft Spirits/High West Distillery/Mic Drop

Wherever you look in the NDP market these days, you’ll see a new transparency that feels radical, whether it’s the hyper-limited Mic Drop—its website diligently recounts every minute decision that went into the bottle—or the enormous Bardstown Bourbon Company, which literally prints the pedigree of its purchased and blended Discovery series right on the label. Bardstown is sitting on thousands of its own distilled barrels, still too young to use, but Dan Callaway, the company’s VP of product development, says that even when its barrels come of age, Bardstown will continue to purchase whiskey for blending. “Discovery series is an opportunity to create something new and special,” he says. “Our story is our team. We want to show people the whole process.”

Nicolas Palazzi, creator of Mic Drop, puts it more plainly still: “We stand for non-bullshit products,” he says. “To be honest, it doesn’t sound very radical to me.”

Give Your Cocktail a Little Je Ne Sais Quoi

An unequivocal translator of time and place, eaux de vie—or unaged fruit brandies—have added a missing I don’t know what to the modern drink.

For the average person, nosing a glass of, say, whiskey, might conjure tasting notes along the lines of “oaky,” “fruity,” or at the most basic, “This is whiskey.” But hand them a glass of eau de vie, or unaged fruit brandy, and even the most novice drinker might say, “Ooh, this smells just like raspberry.” Indeed, the beauty of eau de vie is its clarity of flavor. And thanks to a growing number of top-rate producers who understand the spirit’s potential, and an equally enthusiastic cohort of bartenders who appreciate its strong sense of place, eau de vie has finally found a welcome home on the modern backbar. 

Eau de vie—French for “water of life”—is by no means novel. Born and bred in Europe, particularly France, Southern Germany, Austria and Northern Italy, this category of delicate fruit-driven spirit has existed for centuries. Historically, it was considered a peasant spirit, made from the scraps of fruits. Now, eau de vie’s focused flavor has made it a standout option for bartenders seeking unequivocally terroir-driven ingredients to add complexity to any number of cocktails. 

Even before craft whiskey brands began exploring the potential for grain to embody flavor characteristics from a specific plot of land or soil type, eau de vie had already put its stake in the ground as a spirit that is first and foremost an agricultural product. “When enthusiasts go to a whisky distillery, there is a lot of emphasis put on fermentation, the still distillation process, the temperature, the number of plates the still has and so on,” explains Nicolas Palazzi, founder of the Brooklyn-based importing company PM Spirits, which brings stateside such renowned eau de vie producers as Rochelt and Cazottes, and starting in early 2022, Capreolus Distillery. “Eau de vie producers don’t care as much about distillation as other categories do; they care about the field, the vines, the orchard, the fruits,” Palazzi adds. “There is a relation to the land that is not necessarily present with producers who either distill grains or fruits for the purpose of aging the distillate.”

In this way, eau de vie producers share much in common with contemporary winemakers. No matter the raw material—be it apple (pomme), quince (coing), raspberry (framboise) or plum (mirabelle)—distillers are looking for fruits of the highest quality, which are grown in ideal conditions and harvested at the peak of their flavor. Like wine, variations in flavor can be tasted in each vintage, or even between parcels of land within the same vintage. 

“At one time, I would have said that terroir in spirits is impossible because the distillation process would strip anything from the initial source,” says Ben Robinson, sommelier at Moor Hall, a restaurant with two Michelin stars in Lancashire, England. “However, over the last few years, I would have to say that there could be a sense of terroir in eaux de vie.”