Distilled in Vermont: A History & Guide with Cocktail Recipes

me.

INTRODUCTION

Distillation is a story of agriculture and industry, of art and science, of man and machine. An incredibly old practice—some sources trace the origins of distillation to 500 BC India and Pakistan¹ —it is the essence of dichotomy and exotic mysticism. Indeed, the very process of distillation, the concept of heating and cooling to separate alcohol from a water-alcohol mixture, delves into themes of rebirth, yin and yang and the sum of parts.

Vermont’s spirits industry is small but mighty. Its ever-expanding cast of characters represents everything from secluded farm distilleries to brands well known throughout the United States and beyond. A microcosm of the country’s craft distilling movement, Vermont’s distilling industry reflects the diverse techniques, motivations and products that can be found throughout the industry at large. Distillers open to discussing their craft freely comment on their businesses, their passions and their trials and tribulations.

I’ll say it: by and large, there is a problem with the United States spirits industry and consumer education. Alcohol consumers simply don’t understand the processes that bring their beloved products to their glasses. The craft beer movement did wonders for the world of beer, enlightening individuals on the finer points of brewing, hops and grain. The upfront, tactile experience of visiting a craft brewery, now found in nearly every small town, encourages consumers to explore: from the simplest of questions—Hey, what’s in this beer?—to deep-seated desires resulting in volunteer hours, internships and even entrepreneurship.

In comparison, the spirits industry still rests within a veil of secrecy, behind the glass and beyond the red line. Craft distilleries work tirelessly to demystify spirits through tours, events and the inclusion of cocktail culture, but the deck is stacked against them. Unlike beer and wine, the idea of spirits—the hard stuff—remains closely associated with notions of alcoholism and crime, the same historic pattern that heralded the so-called Noble Experiment of national Prohibition.

We use bombs to make drugs, one distiller said to me in an interview. And it’s true. What we do can be dangerous, both while we do it and in its consumption. However, with the help of organizations dedicated to spirits legislation and consumption, and the perceived benefits of alcohol-related tourism, state governments are coming to understand the value generated by local and regional manufacturing. Still, many of the industry’s finer points fly under the radar.

Riding the coattails of the American wine and craft beer industries, it is slowly becoming acceptable for beverage consumers to regularly enjoy a dram of whiskey, a Martini (shaken or stirred) or a simple gin and tonic. An upwelling of craft cocktail culture encourages the responsible consumption of spirits alongside meals. The resurgence of cocktails in the last decade is arguably the distilled spirits industry’s greatest boon, an artful study of flavor and creative expression that is both routinely sought after and widely accepted.

When I tell people that I studied alcohol in college, they almost always laugh. So did I! is the most common response. Well, it’s true. Raised in part by my French grandmother, I was always fascinated by wine, pastis² and, well…mostly wine. In college, I participated in archaeological digs and the study of the economic history of rum in the Caribbean. My first job after college was with the Williamsburg Winery, after which I moved to Boston to further study the anthropology of craft beer and spirits at Boston University.

My first real foray into craft distilling occurred in 2013 while traveling the country in the back of a twenty-year-old baby blue van. While conducting research for a capstone project, I became enamored of the art, science and intentionality of the fledgling spirits industry.³ I returned home after three months and fifteen thousand miles on the road and immediately searched for an apprenticeship at a distillery. GrandTen Distilling in South Boston provided me an opportunity for hands-on experience, and I never looked back.

Taking a job as head distiller and production manager for SILO Distillery, I moved to Windsor, Vermont, in 2015. At SILO, I learned firsthand of Vermont’s unique position at the forefront of artisan food and beverage production. To this day, I am shocked at just how small of a state Vermont is.⁴ The farmers who help feed SILO quickly became friends, introducing me to other grain producers, herb cultivators, sugaring operations and so much more. Even our legislators are but a phone call away—and they frequently answer their own phones!

When the opportunity struck to write this book, I jumped. I’ve always loved giving tours and tastings, loved the educational aspects of what we do. There’s an amazing moment when talking about spirits—and boy, can I talk about spirits—when a process or flavor is described and a consumer’s eyes widen. It sinks in, the dam springs a leak and questions pour forth. It’s easy enough describing the first moments of grain-to-glass distilling. After all, it’s much like brewing, and people are fairly familiar with beer. Take 1,600 gallons of beer and distill it down to 40 to 50 gallons of 80 proof spirit, and you’ve got a different story.

Distilled in Vermont is a field guide of sorts, a snapshot of distillery life in the Green Mountain State and an overview of what it takes to bring a raw product from concept to cocktail. No one chapter is exhaustive by any means—entire books can be, and indeed have been, written about each subject individually—but the contents should give readers a better understanding of the various labors of love that make up a distilled spirits product.

This book is divided into three parts. The first section outlines the distilling process: ingredients, distillation, maturation, marketing and Vermont’s status as a control state. Ingredients highlights the products used to make spirits and features the work of Andrew Peterson and Peterson Quality Malt. Maturation introduces the veteran-owned-and-operated Green Mountain Grain & Barrel and the intricacies of barrel-aging. Navigating the Control State features a fascinating interview with Patrick Delaney, commissioner of Vermont’s Department of Liquor and Lottery.

Section two is a dramatis personae, a directory of the main characters of our spirited story. Well over twenty distilled spirits plants (DSPs) exist in Vermont, with roughly twenty producing and selling product. As part of this project, I’ve had the distinct pleasure of interviewing seventeen of these producers, the distillery owners and operators responsible for Vermont’s prospering distilling industry. The profiles highlighted in section two feature quotes from these interviews, preserving as much as possible the voices of those on the ground in the industry. Each profile illuminates both the featured distillery and core themes of the distilling industry, common to craft distillers everywhere.

Finally, Vermont distilleries and bartenders come together to offer a carefully curated selection of craft cocktail recipes. From simple mixed cocktails to artfully constructed creations, I hope that something sparks your interest!

Vermont’s distilling industry is incredibly intricate—socially, technically and procedurally. It is my sincere hope that Distilled in Vermont helps shed light on the complex structure of spirits production while simultaneously generating excitement for the amazing community that calls Vermont home.

Chapter 1

INGREDIENTS

The Taste of Vermont

Whiskey is liquid sunshine.

—George Bernard Shaw

Just like a home-cooked meal, the distillation of quality spirits begins with choosing the best ingredients for the job. In fact, most spirits are categorized directly by the types of ingredients used to produce or flavor them. Gin, for example, must incorporate juniper berries, which in turn produce the characteristic pine tree flavors and aromas for which it is known. Whiskeys are categorized by their predominant grain—corn, rye, wheat or barley. Rum isn’t rum without its sugary base, and brandy is derived from fruit. Vermont’s unique agricultural landscape favors small diversified farms and thus the cultivation of a wide variety of fruits, herbs, vegetables and other products suitable for distillation.

The history of grain production in Vermont is turbulent at best. Settled in 1724 by Massachusetts colonists, Fort Drummer—located in southern Vermont near modern Brattleboro—was the state’s first permanent European settlement.⁵ From there, colonists continued to push north into the Champlain Basin, where fertile soils and an ideal climate cultivated conditions perfect for growing wheat. Grain farming boomed. The production of wheat became so important that when Ira Allen, brother of Ethan Allen, designed the state seal in 1778, he included two shocks of wheat in the design.⁶

Coupled with soil depletion from heavy cropping and crop loss due to pests, the completion of the Erie Canal in 1825 sounded the death knell for Vermont wheat production. Vermont quickly lost its status as breadbasket of New England as farms moved to the Genesee Valley of western New York, closer to the canal and new shipping hub. While wheat production in Vermont peaked at 644,000 bushels in 1840, by the turn of the century, only 35.65 bushels were harvested statewide.⁷

The state seal of Vermont, designed by Ira Allen, features natural and agricultural symbols.

Andrew Peterson, founder of the rapidly growing Peterson Quality Malt malthouse, works hard to help revitalize regional grain-growing. Until now, most of the malted grain Andrew produces has come from within a ten-mile radius of his house and its attached malthouse, converted from an old dairy barn.⁸

Most of the grain currently comes from about ten miles of here. So we’ve got a little we do right here and we have fields we rent in the area. There’s one family that we’ve started working with–two brothers who bought their grandparents’ old dairy farm. They wanted to do grains. So it’s really the perfect sort of partnership. They know what they’re doing. They’re great farmers. We have the same core values–putting up good rotations which are good for the soils, not avoiding the idea of contemplating runoff, so forth. They’re really good guys.

With the help of Hotel Vermont, Peterson has recently acquired Nordic Farm in Charlotte, Vermont. His malting operation is poised to increase dramatically.

At Nordic we’ve got more acres than we had total around here. The total acreage at Nordic is 583. There’s about 350 tillable. Last year we planted about 225. This year we’ll get all the rest of it ready. And then we’re leasing a bunch of land around there. Last year in the state we did about 720 acres total. Two years ago right around here we did 150. This year we’re trying to get to 1,500 acres, and by 2023 we’re trying for 7,000 acres.

Andrew Peterson, owner of Peterson Quality Malts. Courtesy of Peterson Quality Malts.

Andrew’s malting process is time consuming. Starting on the second floor at a moisture level of 12 to 13 percent, grain is soaked on and off for several hours at a time until it reaches about 45 percent moisture content. At this point, the grain believes it has been planted and will start to grow. The sprouted grain is moved to germination tanks on the first floor, where it spends four days under carefully monitored humidity and temperature levels.

Andrew explains, When it’s done four days from now, it will be close to the top since the rootlets expand. Right now we mix with a canoe paddle. If you don’t, it’ll mat up into a giant brick. In the new place, it’ll be done automatically with an augur that will go through it. At this size, we can do it with a paddle. At the new size, everyone would quit.

From the germination tanks, the sprouted malt is moved to the basement to be kiln dried. The temperature is raised to 150 to 160 degrees Fahrenheit as high volumes of air are blown through the grain. In a mere twenty–four hours, the moisture content will drop from 45 percent to 5 to 6 percent. It is now ready to be polished, separated and bagged.

So we’re looking at expanding this infrastructure which the state hasn’t had in 120 years. Some of that goes past grains for brewing—grains for distilling, food-grade grains, we’re putting in a flaker for flaked grains and we’re putting in a flour mill to produce wheat flour, rye flour, cornmeal and stuff like that. I wish someone else had come on and done this, but it’s not there. So it’s sort of on us to create potential. You can’t have a farmer bring us grain, have us evaluate it and say, Yeah, it’s not good for us, so take it away. In the long run, farmers will say, Yeah, this is too complicated. We need another outlet. So if someone comes in and their barley is terrible that year, we can always turn around and send it to the feed-grade division or something.

Barley and wheat aren’t the only grains being grown in Vermont. At SILO Distillery, I worked closely with Jeff Grembowicz and Grembowicz Farm, a fourth-generation farm in North Clarendon, Vermont. Jeff and his father steward six hundred acres of crops, mostly corn. Originally a dairy farm, the Grembowicz family transitioned to diversified grain farming in 2005. The farm is the sole producer of the non-GMO corn and rye used by SILO in its farm-to-glass spirits.⁹

If there’s anything Jeff and Andrew have taught me, it’s that farming in Vermont is never a guaranteed endeavor. Sometimes, says Andrew, it’s the climate:

Yes, you can go out west. Kansas, you pick the rain line that’s perfect. You plan right along there, and you know exactly what you’re going to get