Tomato leaf, paraffin, crayon wax, rye bread packed in sawdust, red hots, mildew, damp hay, wet sweater forgotten in the trunk of your car. Cinnamon and candied pineapple granola with nutmeg. With water, Elmer’s glue. Overall, strange, but so intriguing. I grew up in the country, and my brother and I used to play in the infrequently mowed strip between the fields and the forest. Sometimes, when really hunkered down in a damp tractor tire rut watching the potato bugs, all you can smell is damp soil and decaying grass and a hint of growing grass (which are very different smells) along with a note of compost and the slightest waft of smoke from the neighbor’s chimney. This smells like that – fecund, earthy, damp, alive.
An immediate blast of cinnamon, so strong that I would almost believe that this was flavored a la Fireball. You know when realtors boil cinnamon and cloves on the stove before an open house to make everything smell cozy? This is what I imagine that water tastes like after a long day on the back burner. It resolves in an chalky, almost powdery sensation. With water, the grain becomes more evident, like eating a handful of sunflower seeds and rye hulls. The finish continues with numbing clove and an odd hint of grape concentrate. The alcohol character is muted for a 90-proof spirit – the kick here comes from the spice, and not the ABV. In some sense, this is captivating. Lots of fascinating tastes and aromas, but there’s also something jarring about it. The flavors don’t quite strike a balance – perhaps it needed more than 0.7 years in a barrel? In any case, this one is odd but not unlovely. Tasting Notes – Coppersea Green Malt Barley Vital Stats: 96 proof, aged one year in used barrels, 100% floor-malted barley, 375ml bottle retails for around $90. Appearance: Light, greenish (perhaps just the power of suggestion?) gold Nose: I grew up in the country, and my brother and I used to play in the infrequently mowed strip between the fields and the forest. Sometimes, when really hunkered down in a damp tractor tire rut watching the potato bugs, all you can smell is damp soil and decaying grass and a hint of growing grass (which are very different smells) along with a note of compost and the slightest waft of smoke from the neighbor’s chimney. This smells like that – fecund, earthy, damp, alive. Palate: Super funky and vegetal: horse blanket, washed rind cheese, English shelling peas. This tastes something might grow from the bottle if you planted it. In some ways it tastes a bit like new-make bourbon: ashy, green, with notes of charred grain husk, bubblegum, and pool water. It’s uniquely grainy, but living grain, not the toasted stuff. Despite spending a year in a barrel it still has a short, hot finish. I am glad for the chance to taste this whiskey – it’s a fascinating glimpse into the amazing range of flavors the humble barley grain can create. But I’m not sure it’s a bottle I’ll be finishing right away. As Lew Bryson said in his Whiskey Advocate review of Coppersea Green Malt Rye, “a little goes a long way.” It’s good that these bottles are so beautiful, because I think they might be in the liquor cabinet for a while, brought out on occasion when only the strangest sip will do.
