Equal parts stout patriot and mad genius, my dear friend John thus organized a small group of folks — he and I were joined by Karla and Noah — to gather at his apartment in Northville to taste through a half dozen rye whiskeys.

Unfortunately, Sazerac brand rye, which is generally one of the commonly available ryes in Michigan, is in short supply at the moment, or so we were told by several store clerks in western Wayne County. But we had the other notable state-sanctioned products — Jim Beam, Wild Turkey, Russell’s, and Bulleit — as well as two ryes that are among the most popular across the counry in the form of Old Overholt and Rittenhouse 100.

None of these are terribly expensive, and we intentionally ignored products like the $200 aged Rittenhouse product or the “Ri” whiskey from Jim Beam, which at $40+ on the retail shelf isn’t something with which most people would be interested in mixing.

Setting aside our observations and opinions for a couple of paragraphs, it’s worth mentioning a few basic facts about rye, especially considering that it has a pretty limited following in the metro Detroit area.

Whiskey of all sorts is essentially just a distillation of a rudimentary beer. Most whiskey we drink has been aged in barrels for some length of time. Bourbon, arguably the more familiar whiskey to most Americans and certainly to most Detroiters, contains at least 51% corn in that grain mixture. Rye, by contrast and by law, must contain at least 51% rye. The remainder of the grain bill can be just about anything, though in the case of rye whiskey, those grains are generally corn, wheat, and/or malted rye.

Maryland, Pennsylvania, New York, and Virginia were all states noted for their rye traditions, with unique characteristics ascribed to each. After WWII, many of the notable bottlers were bought up and shut down or sold again, and those that stayed open were gobbled up by larger companies. Indeed, Pikesville, a perfectly pleasant drink with a nice fruity nose and smooth flavor, is a whiskey long associated with Maryland. But it’s now manufactured in Kentucky, “rescued” by Heaven Hill distilleries. The same applies to Rittenhouse, a brand in our tasting that represents Pennsylvania rye.

Indeed, as with most spirits, the landscape changed considerably after Prohibition. Bourbon gained favor with whiskey drinkers, and vodka seemed to catch on with everyone else.

Fortunately, we’re in the midst of something of a rye renaissance. In addition to the large-scale products that are enjoyable – like Rittenhouse or Overholt – producers like Tuthilltown, Anchor, and Whistlepig are creating new, smaller batch products that seem to be catching on for drinking straight or use in particularly high end cocktails.

In that spirit of renewal, here are our notes from the tasting. We drank the whiskeys blind, and the notes below are presented in the order in which the ryes were consumed.

Jim Beam Rye
The initial reaction from the entire crowd was that the whiskey didn’t taste like much of anything. There’s a slight sweetness with just a bit of vanilla barrel flavor and a mild spiciness. Very mild body. But beyond that, the Beam was inoffensive enough to be passable for cocktails but rather uninspiring otherwise.

Russell’s Reserve 6
As Noah immediately mentioned, this was lighter in color than our first blind entry: Russell’s 6-year was more of a yellow-ish color than most whiskey. Aromatically, this was simply weak – not much there. On the palate, it was so bland as to be insipid. Karla didn’t get past two sips before passing hers off. There was barely a spiciness to it, something that one commonly expects in a rye, and it ended with a strange bitterness that, while mild, was off-putting. I’ve mixed Russell’s in plenty of drinks and not been too upset about it, but in this naked setting, it was clearly outmatched.

Bulleit Rye
Standing in stark contrast to the first two, this screamed with unique flavors and smelled of honey and herbs. I was somewhat alone in thinking that it had a thyme-ish quality in the nose. The spiciness was prickly but only accompanied by the most mild alcohol burn, and a light honey sweetness with a bit of toffee bitterness in the finish continued throughout the drink. It lasts a long while with that herbal, woody, toffee flavor making for a fairly savory rye. Of course, rye is the grain responsible for those flavors and for spice, so it should come as no surprise to newcomers to this product that it contains 95% rye, an unusually high percentage.

Rittenhouse 100
Arguably the most powerful of the ryes, this was obviously a 100 proof whiskey from the get go. In terms of complexity, it suffered coming immediately after the Bulleit. But as the most potent beverage in the tasting, spiciness and booze shone through with a mild, grassy finish. This is a clean, edgy whiskey that manages to be quite dry and full at the same time.

Old Overholt
Sort of a middling option from the first whiff, this had a bit of spice, a bit of sweetness, a bit of vanilla, and a bit of maple on the nose and honey on the palate. Lower in alcohol, it was immediately characterized as being rounder and while not widely rejected by our group, it wasn’t beloved either. Of course, this is still a value: It’s less than 15 bucks just about anywhere you can find it (not in Detroit), and in a pinch, it gets the job done. In the price range, it’s clearly a better option than Beam.

Wild Turkey
This is the most well-rounded whiskey. It had some body and some mild spice, but despite its higher proof, it’s not at all hot. And however it’s aged, it results in a pleasant, mild vanilla flavor. This whiskey also ranked highly with everyone, and considering the price and the fact it’s readily available in Michigan, it would arguably be our “go to” rye in the state.

* * * * * *

The Manhattan Project

Drinking straight whiskey is fun. No one would deny that. But in the interest of scientific exploration, we elected to make some Manhattans with the top three ryes from the tasting. If it wasn’t obvious from the notes, we chose to use Bulleit, Rittenhouse, and Wild Turkey.

John and Noah preferred the Bulleit best, whereas Karla preferred the Wild Turkey, and I preferred the Rittenhouse. The Bulleit certainly had a lot of flavors going on, though in my mind, it clashed a bit, adding a spicy smoke flavor to a drink that might not best carry those particular sensations. What one man considers complex might be another man’s confused, and vice versa. Wild Turkey carried its round, pleasant qualities through to the Manhattan and blended seamlessly. Rittenhouse created, for me, the most interesting drink: pleasant but not simple, complex but not awkward, spicy but not hot.

A certain someone hosting the tasting disagreed with my assessment and offered this unkind gesture:

It’s hard to lose with any of these three whiskeys — either for drinking straight or for drinking in a cocktail — but for Michiganders not looking to ship from out of state, Wild Turkey is the clear winner.

Drink 1 – Blood Orange Whiskey Sour

I tried this drink twice, the first time using bourbon, blood orange, simple syrup, cointreau, and egg white.  But in tweaking it a bit, I found I preferred this recipe:

• 2 oz bourbon
• .75 oz blood orange juice
• .5 oz simple syrup
• .25 oz lemon juice
• Egg white
• Shake with ice, double strain into chilled cocktail glass

My whiskey sours are not generally all that sour, but the first take was just way too sweet. The second blood orange take has a nice flowery balance, and while the lemon doesn’t make it sour, it dries it out nicely. Cointreau and bourbon just don’t work.  Never have, never will.

Drink 2 – The Bloody Scotsman

• 2 oz rye whiskey
• .5 oz Aperol
• .5 oz lemon juice
• .5 oz blood orange juice
• Islay scotch
• Rinse a chilled cocktail glass with the scotch, shake the remaining ingredients with ice, and double strain.

Oddly, the ingredients really cancelled each other out.  It didn’t taste like there was any whiskey in there at all, and the blood orange thinned the drink so much that there was no bitterness and just a hint of smoke from the scotch.  It was good and quite drinkable — poundable, really — but not anything electric.  I’d like to tinker with this some more and see what happens.

Drink 3 – The Bronx River Runs Red

Inspired by the original (and often kind of weak) Bronx Cocktail:

• 1.5 oz gin
• .5 oz Aperol
• .5 oz Lillet Blanc
• 1 oz blood orange juice
• .25 oz lemon juice
• Shake with ice, double strain into a chilled cocktail glass

This is a really light, really subtle, really aromatic take on a Bronx cocktail.  If you like a Bronx or any lighter drinks, you’d probably like this.  That’s not to say that it’s perfect by any stretch – Campari might be an improvement over Aperol here – but this is another pretty quaffable cocktail.

It’s definitely bad to drink because you “need” to. It’s bad to drink too much too often. It’s bad to drink and pass out on your couch at 8pm. But it’s bad to do any of those things if you’re with people too, right? Last night, I had the good fortune of eating and drinking with friends. Most of the night centered on wine, but for a brief while, we chatted about Fever Tree tonic water, which got a ringing endorsement from Putnam Weekley. Tonight, I’m flying solo. But really, it’s kind of fortuitous since solo drinking nights mean the freedom to explore.

A few hours ago, I literally ran into a ginger beer/root beer/tonic shelf at Holiday Market that was full of Fever Tree products. Having decided that it was kismet given the previous night’s discussion, I picked up some Fever Tree tonic and ginger beer (I’m guessing this recent addition is courtesy of GU Detroit member Jefferey Mar, though I can’t say for certain). It was then that I decided tonight would become a study in cocktails. So for the zero people who will be reading our blog on this particular Saturday night, I will be live blogging these drinks as I go.

Drink #1: Using Fever Tree Tonic (7:45pm)

Gin and tonic is great, but I wanted to try something a little different. Fever Tree’s tonic has great citrus fruit flavors and a bright acidity in addition to all the bitterness in the finish, so I thought there might be some potential to try something in a Caribbean-inspired vein. Here’s what I ended up with:

• 1 oz white rum (I used Mt. Gay)
• 1 oz aged rum (I used Angostura 1919, 8 year)
• .5 oz fresh lime juice
• .25 oz Cherry Heering
• .25 oz simple syrup
• Fever Tree tonic

I shook this briefly, without tonic, poured it into a tall glass with ice, and topped it with probably 4-5 oz of tonic. This starts with a pretty big fruit flavor and then has a wash of tonic bitterness through the finish. Somehow it tastes like vanilla in the mid-palate. Kind of awesome, though I might use a little less tonic next time.

Drink 2: Bittered Rye Sling w/ Fever Tree (8:30)

I’m a big fan of this rye-based drink that I had at The Gibson in Washington, DC. I’ve been making it with Fentiman’s, but I wanted to give the Fever Tree a shot.

• 2 oz rye whiskey (I used Russel’s because I’m out of Rittenhouse)
• 1 oz sweet vermouth (Dolin)
• .5 oz lime juice
• Assload of Angostura bitters
• Fever Tree ginger beer

I shook everything except the Fever Tree with a couple ice cubes just briefly to mix and slightly chill the ingredients then poured it over ice in a tall glass and topped with the ginger beer. Good drink, but I prefer this one with Fentiman’s, which I think has a much stronger spice quotient.

Drink 2 Redux (8:42)

This is getting better. As it’s melting and warming, there seems to be more ginger spice. Fever Tree could totally work its way into my ginger beer rotation — and since I still have 3 little bottles left, I’d say there’s a good chance of that happening.

Drink 3: Keanu Reeves Says “Woah” (9:30)

Last night, a good friend texted me from my favorite cocktail bar, Vessel, located in Seattle. He and his wife were enjoying a few drinks, and he sent a list of ingredients with no commentary other than “Awesome.” The text read, “creme de violette lillet blanc egg white club soda citrus.”

I didn’t have any club soda, so I did the following:

• 1 oz creme de violette
• 1 oz lillet blanc
• Half an egg white
• 2/3 oz lemon juice

Dry shake, shake with ice, strain into a chilled cocktail glass. And I have to agree with my buddy. Awesome.

If you’re a creme de violette fan, this is a great drink. The egg white gives it body, the lillet kills a bit of the intensity, and the lemon just makes for a nice, bright, balanced drink. Low alcohol brilliance inspired by the finest cocktail bar I’ve been to.

Drink 4: Mystery! (10:24)

I made a fourth drink. I had an idea the other night while drinking a Ramos Gin Fizz. If it went well, I would have posted more. But it only went OK, so further tinkering is in the cards for the next couple day/weeks. But in the meantime, I’m done experimenting (both with alcohol and how many calories I can ingest before bed) for the evening. I’d encourage Detroiters to stop by Western Market in Ferndale or Holiday Market in Royal Oak and pick up some Fever Tree products.

So in lieu of that particular custom, I shall instead confess to the public some of the things for which I am thankful in the most privately publicm, egomaniacal fashion of them all — a blog post.

This year, my wife and I set sail — or more accurately, boarded a flight — bound for Baltimore in order to visit family. The day before Thanksgiving, we were to meet up with our good friends who live near DC, my brother, and his fiancée for dinner and drinks. After doing some research and consulting the natives, we elected to dine at Masa 14, an inexpensive Latin+Japanese fusion place that serves small plates, and to drink at The Gibson, a speakeasy-style joint down the block which nearly always requires reservations to get past the doorman.

Dinner was wonderful — I particularly enjoyed the yucca fries, the pork belly “tacos,” some mussels, and some of their flatbreads — but this is a drinks blog, and we’re more than mere casual drinkers, so let’s focus our attention on The Gibson, shall we?

During Prohibition, I’m sure it would have taken quite a bit to gain entrance to The Gibson. Knowing the proprietor, perhaps. Knowing a codeword, probably. But today, we have Google. Following the recent trend of modeling sophisticated watering holes after the speakeasys of yesteryear, this establishment is virtually invisible from 14th Street NW. Only a single light bulb, a single doorknob, and a single door buzzer sandwiched between two other businesses alert you that there might be life inside the otherwise decrepit-looking building. But after perusing reviews on Yelp, we were on the phone to The Gibson, making reservations.

Once we were done with dinner and wandered up the street to that barely lit entrance, we headed in, initially greeted by a young potbellied man dressed in all black, his face adorned with mutton chops that threatened to engulf his face. He led us through a second door to a dimly lit, beautifully decorated room. Standing isn’t allowed — the bar has 48 chairs, and if you’re not in one of them, you’re not in the bar — and half the tables are set aside for those who call in advance to make reservations.

We took our seats, looked over the menus, and ordered some damn fine drinks.

Among our more memorable drinks were a Blue Blood (Laphroaig 10-Year Single Malt, Leopold Bros Tart Cherry Liqueur, Grand Marnier, and Dolin Dry Vermouth), a Bittered Rye Sling (Old Overholt Rye, bitters, lime, Dolin sweet vermouth, and Fever Tree ginger ale), and a Brunswick Sour (Appleton white rum and lime juice with merlot floated on top).

My brother’s fiancee described the Blue Blood as “feet wrapped in bacon.” Sounds ideal to me, and indeed it is: The smoky flavor from the scotch certainly dominates the drink, but it’s made balanced by the tart cherry and orange. My personal favorite, though, was the Bittered Rye Sling I ordered. Tart, drinkable, and surprisingly aromatic, it was served in a Collins glass and garnished with a cherry and a lemon twist.

The waitstaff was pleasant and felt comfortable questioning odd orders, hoping to save both him and us from having to deal with a drink that didn’t match up to our party’s tastes. The Brunswick Sour and a few others were recommendations of his throughout the evening, and he did well. And of course, the drinks were absolutely delicious.

Atmosphere is a focal point for The Gibson: Beautifully stained wood is accented with regal reds and golds on cieling inlays, and red velvet covers the back of the bench seating. Orange peel garnishes were brought to the table and, when squeezed, lit on fire for every drink. Showmanship is fun, but on more than one occasion, we sat waiting awkwardly for a minute while our waiter tried to flame the peel. And truth be told, our second round came a bit late in the evening because of the slow pace of service.

Nonetheless, The Gibson was a great drink experience. It would be easy to over-consume there: The bartenders are the real asset at this establishment as the drinks were universally well-made. Even the strongest, booziest cocktails were eminantly drinkable. And prices were fair and reasonable. If driving 50 minutes back to Baltimore hadn’t been a concern, I would have been joyfully slurring and stumbling my way out of The Gibson as my mutton-chopped doorman friend booted my ass to the curb at closing time. If you’re in DC, you owe yourself a trip.