Ask anyone what my liquor of choice is and they’re likely to mention rye (and if they really know me Rittenhouse Bottled in Bond 100 proof aged rye whiskey). Rye was one of the original whiskey types to be distilled in the United States. For more on the history of American rye whiskey (and for an explanation of why all rye is not Canadian whiskey), check out Wikipedia. For as long as I can remember, I had been drinking bourbon (primarily Marker’s Mark) and more recently added some blended scotch (in the form of Johnnie Walker Red Label).
About 6 months ago I was having after-work drinks at the Pegu Club (my first time there), sipping on a Whiskey Smash. While it tasted agreeable enough – as most of the drinks at Pegu do (to date, the only problem I’ve seen anyone have was with the Kill Devil, which even the waitress warned tasted like thick, strong cough medicine prior to a friend ordering it) – I found myself commenting to the waitress that it was a bit too sweet for what I was in the mood for. We got to talking and I told her what I just told you about my drink preferences (bourbon and blended scotch for those who can’t remember beyond 20 seconds). She looked at me with somewhat of a mischievous smile and asked if I’d ever tasted an old fashioned. I hadn’t, but I was aware that the drink existed. Knowing that it was the drink of choice of one Don Draper (something I’m not ashamed to admit) and having a good feeling about the waitress, I confidently ordered one. She asked if I wanted it with bourbon or rye. Having never tasted rye but feeling open to the hands of fate, I trusted her to bring back whatever she thought would taste best. Away she went, leaving me unaware that her return would trigger a cosmic alignment of life altering proportions.
While we wait for the waitress to return, let me take a moment to tell you about her. Though I cannot recall her name (I promise that I will ask next time I see her and report back), I can tell you that she is, by far, the best waitress at Pegu. If you’ve ever frequented any of the New York bars that recall the speakeasies of the yesteryear, with their unmarked doors and secret passwords (or simply possess a pseudo-speakeasy aesthetic with an obsessive focus on cocktails), you know that the best waitresses are the ones able to engage in intelligent conversation about liquor and drink choices (Milk and Honey excels at this). While you would think this would be a prerequisite for employment at these fine establishments, it is simply not so. Though few and far between, I have experienced waitresses who throw a pompous glance your way if your order deviates from the menu and doesn’t encompass the dozen standard cocktails they have memorized. This annoys me to no end, especially at these modern speakeasies. Luckily, as I mentioned, I don’t encounter this often.
Anyway, while we may not know her name, this waitress knows her liquor (among other things). I have had the fortune of being waited-on by her many times since and she has always been able to answer any question posed (and actually seems to enjoy partaking in these libation deliberations). She also has the uncanny, but always desirable, ability to return to the table only when needed, never needlessly wandering over and disrupting a passionate conversation between friends (lovers on a good night) with full glasses. Look, here she comes now.
She returned with a drink that threw my palette for a loop. I am no connoisseur of the cocktail, something I freely admit. I do, however, enjoy a timely libation and as man who knows what he likes I proudly exclaimed, “Ma’am, this I like.” Slightly aggressive (dare I say robust) at first sip, the drink gave way to a spicy complexity that had previously eluded me in the ultra-sweet drinks I was used to and finished with a citrus aftertaste. The waitress explained that she had chosen Pegu’s house rye (you guessed it, Rittenhouse 100 proof) and thus the love affair began.
an old fashioned
Since that encounter, the rye old fashioned (with Rittenhouse when available) has become my cocktail of choice. It is not, however, something I order everywhere I go. When done correctly it is a thing of beauty, but when poorly crafted, it becomes a muddled glass of booze and the promise of what could have been. I implore you to make sure when ordering an old fashioned you do so in a place with the capacity to produce one of quality. How will you know when in the presence of such an establishment? The best advice I can offer is that if you are unsure, you’re likely ordering at your peril.
My guess as to why such a disparity exists lies in part because of the myriad of recipes of varying quality that fill the annals of cocktail history. For what its worth, in my opinion the bartenders of the world would be best served saving the soda for rum and coke (sadly enough, Esquire disagrees).
Upon a later visit to Pegu, I was devastated to hear that they had run out of Rittenhouse, as per a shortage on the east coast. The next day I tracked some bottles down on-line and ordered 2. The vendor called to say they only had 1 remaining and apologized for not having updated their stock availability on the website. Feeling the pinch, I found another on-line shop and ordered 3 more. The 100 proof, 750ml bottles usually cost between $15-$20 but you can currently find them on sale for $14 at The Liquor Factory.
So that brings us back to rye. We’re actually in the midst of a comeback that began in earnest almost 3 years ago, but signs of this rye revival can be found as early as 1996. Rye’s current popularity is in no doubt linked to a renewed interest in cocktail culture, as many classic whiskey cocktails were historically made with rye prior to prohibition. Having sampled my fair share (including standards like Old Overholt, Wild Turkey and Jim Beam Rye), I still prefer Rittenhouse, 2006 San Francisco World Spirits Competition’s North American Whiskey of the Year. I know, I know, it’s almost 2009. Will this comeback fade as quickly as the mid-nineties ska craze? Perhaps, but I doubt it. The recent release of (ri)1 (something I’ll post on later tonight), may prove me wrong though. To continue an odd metaphor, will Beam’s (ri)1 be the equivalent of Save Ferris playing the prom in 1998’s ‘Ten Things I Hate About You,’ simultaneously bringing the ska resuscitation to the masses while signifying its end?
The truth is, if you’re just hearing about the rye trend now then you’re a bit late to the party. I admittedly jumped on an already crowded bandwagon a few months ago when I took up arms with the rye-revivalists. There’s nothing wrong with it as long as we’re honest with ourselves about not being the early trend-spotters on this one. Still, I think the best days of this comeback are still ahead of us. But this post is long enough already and I don’t feel like delving into my thoughts on the life cycle of treads (at least not right now). Besides, the most pressing concern on my mind is whether or not the old fashioned (often mocked as an old man’s drink) make a comeback too. We can only hope.
