In 2009, I entered the recording studio with my band (Desolation Angels) to record our second full length album. We had chosen a famous Detroit studio, and were lucky enough to work with a great engineer in John Smerek. For the first two days, we worked at a prodigious rate, laying down drums, bass and guitars for a dozen songs. As we capped off the second day, a bottle of whiskey was passed around. John, from behind his control board asked me “Are you a fan of bourbon?”
“Then I’ve got one for you to try!” he said, and began to tell me about a bourbon I could find at a store local to me, so wonderful it would make me a full-on bourbon aficionado. That it tasted of caramel and vanilla, and was so smooth it could almost be an after-dinner drink. The conversation ended soon thereafter, and I forgot about the recommendation. I was relatively broke at the time, and if I wanted something that smooth, Gentleman Jack would have to suffice.
That bourbon was Pappy Van Winkle.
Two years later, after we had two recording studios close beneath us, John and I met again to mix the neverending album, now in year two. As we drank Jack Daniels, he asked me if I ever went to the store and bought the Pappy he recommended. I told him I had not, but that it would most assuredly make my list now. And it did.
This began my search for the ever-elusive, now legendarily hard-to-find Pappy Van Winkle. In the three and a half-years since, the hunt for “Pappy” has led me to meet wonderful people, sample amazing bourbons and truly become an educated bourbon fan. It also has brought me anger, sadness, frustration and driven me to the brink of madness.
When John first suggested I try it, PVW was another respected, higher-end bourbon readily available at finer stores, even here in Metro Detroit. By the time I actually went looking, it’s popularity was on the rise. Stores were out of it, but thought they’d get more in that spring or fall. The Rip Van Winkle website listed stores that carried it…and none of them were mad if you called! Sure, Anthony Bourdain and the tv show Justified had talked about it, but there was still…a hope.
Since then I’ve learned there are other bourbons just as good, sometimes better. That, while Pappy and the Van Winkle line are guaranteed to be great, the difference between a bottle of Pappy 15 and Weller or Blantons or Elmer T Lee is hardly worth the days spent searching or the obscene amounts of money the bottle costs – if you find it. Yet, I continue to look, because I can’t seem to help myself.
So over the next few posts, I’m gonna talk a bit about the hunt for Pappy. Not the actual product itself, but the hunt, because at this point, Pappy is more of a myth than reality for most people.
Now, there are all kinds of ‘experts’ on the web and posting boards, letting you know the “best” way to get some of the magic known as Pappy Van Winkle. And for some people, these methods may have actually worked. But the truth is usually much different. For example:
Prescribed Method: Make friends with your local liquor store proprietor, so that you are the first one he/she calls when the Pappy comes in.
This makes logical sense – you find a store that has the selection you like with an owner and workers you enjoy chatting with, and give them your business. When that time rolls around, of course they tip you off to come by and purchase a bottle of this rarest of rewards.
How it actually works: You go to as many stores as possible, eliminating the ones that you know will never get Pappy Van Winkle. This isn’t easy – a store can have an excellent supply of hooch, but never get the PVW because they didn’t buy a single barrel of Buffalo Trace this year, or didn’t purchase the 500 bottles of Mr. Pickles Magic Elixir Vodka, made from dry-rot potatoes that caused blindness in focus group participants, that the distributor was trying to unload.
You find a few that you know get the good stuff, and then realize half of them are staffed by miserable hipster douchebags who ride to work on unicycles so they can carefully groom their handlebar moustaches in the open. DON’T try to befriend them – you may think you have a connection, but the truth is that they will view Pappy as “mainstream,” and the first time you let them know you covet it, you will lose their shallow, fickle ‘cred,’ and they will feel no remorse in handing the bottles they get over to a bottle flipper just to spite you.
Narrowed down, you might find a great store or two. This is where hearts really get broken. The truth is, unless you are buying multiple bottles a week, you probably aren’t one of their most valuable customers. I once stood at the counter of a local store I frequent talking with the owner and his brother for an hour about new ryes coming out, and it wasn’t until I got back to my car that I realized that I had watched almost $7,000 in business go on while I stood there. People buying thousand dollar scotches…one gentleman picking up 4 kegs for an event…my $75 bottle was insignificant. Not surprisingly, after a year of frequenting that store, when the Pappy came in, I ‘just happened’ to miss it.
A different store got in 3 bottles of Pappy 23 year and did offer them to me…for $1,500 a bottle. This, while I was checking out with $400 of bourbon in my hand.
One local store I love and frequent explained it to me like this: “If someone came in and offered you a ton of money for your car – more than it possibly warranted – wouldn’t you have to sell it to them?” He explained this as an analogy for why he was quietly moving his Pappy 23 for $1,000 to someone who inquired.
In four years, I have been able to purchase exactly one bottle from a store, and it was due to a raffle system in which hundreds entered for a chance to buy one of three bottles. I’m not saying befriending your local shopkeeper isn’t a good idea – it’s a good idea regardless of Pappy. They can order special products, tell you when new stuff is coming out, and be a wealth of knowledge. But to those spouting platitudes about how Pappy is easy to get if you make friends with the store, I laugh.
Next time, I’ll talk about the secondary market. Brace yourself…