Whenever I have to describe American “indie” distillers to people, I usually start off by explaining that because they can't compete on the basis of value or quality, they have to compete on the basis of being weird and taking risks to bring something entirely new to the market.
If you've ever seen the size of a Scotch distillery in Scotland or a rickhouse for one of the big American companies (Heaven Hill, Jim Beam, or Maker's Mark), you'd understand why. Having been around for more than 100 years, these businesses have gotten to the immense size where they're not going to face financial hardship by having millions of gallons just sit there for several years.
That's a harder proposition for an indie company. Who can afford to buy all of the machinery necessary to distill and bottle whiskey, then spend additional money while nothing comes through the door as the spirits age? The biggest of the big companies—and only them—that's who.
“The Balcones Pot Still Bourbon is a big spirit with huge presence and character.”
This explains why distillers like Westland, Stranahan's or Wyoming Whiskey have had to develop an entirely different model: age the stuff quickly (typically about two years), charge a slightly higher price, and give consumers a very different taste experience. They keep the lights on by targeting those who are willing to pay to take the ride, not necessarily purists or value-seekers.
Incidentally, this holds true for most of Balcones' lineup. Their “Brimstone,” for example, is a weirdo corn whiskey with smoked scrub oak providing flavor. It has been described as having tastes including black bean chili and Texas BBQ meats. A story for another day, but let’s just say that they’re not going to run Jim Beam out of business.
It was therefore odd, I thought, that Balcones also makes just a regular 'ol bourbon. Initially, I had no interest in it: I thought the thing would really fall apart stacked up next to any other bourbon we can get here in the United States, especially those that taste spectacular and require very little money, like my standby of Old Grand Dad Bonded.
Surprise: I was dead wrong!
The first thing to know about the Balcones Bourbon is that it is an absolute powerhouse of flavor, and it's all the more impressive that it doesn't need to lean on a crazy-high ABV to provide it. This is a big bourbon with huge presence and character. There's dark chocolate and smoke for days, both of which I love. It's also not really skunky or corn-funky, instead offering up some sweet, bitter, and savory flavors. At times I could swear I was tasting the grill marks on a big 'ol piece of BBQ beef brisket. For people who like to taste oak in their spirits, this also has some very manly woodiness and tobacco leaf to keep things intriguing.
This is the biggest praise I can give Balcones’ bourbon: you have not had one like this before. It doesn’t taste like a traditional bourbon, and it’s all the more wonderful because of it.
The biggest criticism that can be leveled at the bourbon is that it's pretty aggressive. No getting around that part: this is where that paltry two years of aging begins to get in the way. Even your $20 bottle of Maker's Mark is aged for roughly three times that length of time. For that reason, the Balcones bourbon does best over a generous amount of ice and left for a few minutes to dilute. It still comes in hot with big flavor to kick ass, but seems to shout at you a little less this way.
Equally surprising: $25 is not a lot of money for such a new look at bourbon. Very often, I find the spirit category a little compressed in terms of flavor as a result of what's often a very stringent production formula, so it was a treat to find something surprising that lived up to the intriguing tasting notes I'd read on other blogs.
As such, to me the Balcones Texas Pot Still Bourbon is a must-buy, especially if your enthusiasm for bourbon has been waning as a result of the number of “meh” brands in the category. This stuff is anything but “meh.” And thank god for that.
