Adventures In Bourbon

An Unanswerable Question

It never cease to amaze me that during all the years spent helping to build and then support the craft spirits industry, almost no one ever asked me which craft spirit was my favorite. Ninety times out of hundred, it was "What's your favorite bourbon?" Still the same deal today. I have to ask myself 'Why so, Joe?"
I can't chalk all of it up the fact that I live on the northern cusp of Appalachia in Bloomington, Indiana. Albeit a majority of the corn used to make bourbon is grown in Indiana, and one of the largest distilleries, the largest when Sam Bronfman and Seagram's ruled the spirits world, works its magic down the road in Lawrenceburg as the less-than-lyrically named Midwest Grain Products (MGP). Nope, none of the above, although all certainly play a role.
Personally, I think bourbon fascinates because of its mystery (Why is it called bourbon? Where did it get started?) and its seductive culture (Master Distillers, Thoroughbred Horses), and it's unique way of flirting with every sensory pore in your body while never exhausting its ability to surprise and confound your expectations. All that, and it is irrefutably America's indigenous spirit.
Indian corn, American white oak, and (if from Kentucky) spring-fed water filtered through limestone laid down by the Tethys Sea 100 million years ago. A legacy that encourages an almost infinite variety of iterations while steadfastly defying even the worst travesties visited upon it. (Fireball? Are you crazy?)
So, to answer the question: What's my favorite bourbon? Easy Peezy: the one in my hand.
Here's to you, and yours.
Cheers!

And if I hadn't taken the photograph myself, I would think the Target endcap was a fake, but it's not! "Good morning, kiddos, how about some Baileys on your Cheerios?"