Turning toward the bar, the gentleman to my left instructed the bartender, “Make him that drink you made me last night.” A few minutes later, I was sipping on a clever concoction of coconut, rum, and a hint of Laphroig. This contemporary take on a tiki drink was the delicious brainchild of Giancarlo Aversa, a bartender at what has arguably become Ann Arbor’s best spot for cocktails, The Last Word.

Open since February 14, 2012 and named after the classic drink that originated at the Detroit Athletic Club in the 1920’s, the bar occupies the space previously inhabited by Goodnight Gracie’s lounge near the corner of Huron and 1st Street. Gone are Gracie’s plush lounge sofas and garish faux-tinis. Instead, The Last Word presents a simple but elegant, dimly lit room and libations inspired by the Prohibition era.

My drinking companion that night was co-owner Paul Drennan, a veteran of the bar and restaurant business for more than two decades. “I’ve always had a passion for booze,” he says, which explains in part how a Scottish-born chef finds himself overseeing a cocktail bar and the adjoining music club, Live!

After a culinary career that saw him working in Michelin-starred institutions and took him around the globe, Drennan discovered that the kitchen wasn’t necessarily the place for him.

“Working in those environments, I took a lot from it, but it made me recognize I’d rather be in the front of the house,” he discloses. He came to work for a large hotel and hospitality organization, a career which took him to Ypsilanti in 1999 where he grew fond of the region. After another stint in New York, he ended up working at the MGM casino in Detroit opening the first iteration of those restaurants.

He and his colleague Robbie Schulz left the hotel to bring their expertise to the Alley Bar. They took their shared love of craft cocktails to what is now Ann Arbor’s favorite dive, offering mixed drinks alongside plenty of PBR. But they still longed to do something grander.

With the success of the Alley Bar, Drennan and Schulz entered the fold as partners when the Alley Bar ownership later took over Live! and the old Gracie’s space. The latter became The Last Word and gave them a chance to exercise their creativity and put great drinks to the fore.

It’s not necessarily uncommon to hear a former chef speak frequently about drinking. But it might be a bit less common to sense a true passion for the subject of spirits. Drennan traces it back first to his father introducing him to Scotch and later to a drink he had at the Ritz in London, “It was 1984, 85, I think. A bartender who was old school made me this gin fizz.” Almost three decades later, his bartenders are putting together entirely new cocktails, unquestionably among the best in town.

Creativity – the kind that Drennan and Schulz are encouraging – is critical to The Last Word’s early success. Schulz has developed many of the recipes himself, but all the bartenders are part of the process. “We believe the bartenders need to buy into the place. So they came up with the original menu,” Drennan says.

The menus are cleverly presented in small binders made from the covers of old hardback books and organized from lightest to biggest and most complex. Drennan and Aversa note the popularity of drinks across the entire cocktail list. Among the most requested to this point are, a Lavender Sidecar ($8), the Sangre de Fresa ($9), a refreshing mix of cachaca, Cointreau, lime, strawberry, basil, and balsamic, and the vodka- and rum-based Barbary Flip ($9).

Eventually, they’re hoping to employ a seasonal approach to the menu, changing drinks more frequently and exposing people to more options and more ideas. For the time being, they’re taking their role as educators seriously. Between shaking drinks, Aversa chimes in, “We do a lot of talking with our guests, a lot of brainpicking. Asking people what they’ve had before.”

Beyond interactions at the bar, Drennan and company have begun to add promotional evenings – half off whiskey on Tuesdays and tiki nights on Wednesdays – to their offerings both in the hopes of adding business on off nights and allowing people to experiment more.

Drennan adds that the clientele is constantly surprising them, helping the bar evolve, “You get the most unassuming people with a wealth of knowledge walk through the door, and you’re saying ‘Holy shit, where did you come from?’”

That only supports a notion about which Drennan is adamant – that Ann Arbor now has a vibrant cocktail scene, one that he’s particularly excited about. “We talk up Raven’s Club. We talk up Mani’s. Because everyone improves, and it improves the landscape of Ann Arbor,” he says, “I just want people to recognize Ann Arbor and really the whole state of Michigan. There’s a whole scene here now.”

What he doesn’t say is that The Last Word is a critical piece of that scene. Only a few months into doing business, cocktail aficionados have recognized it as the best of the downtown area cocktail outlets. For anyone in Ann Arbor looking for a good drink, it’s worth a visit.

Finding the bar isn’t hard if you know where to look – it’s tucked under Live!, around the corner on Huron, west of Main Street – though The Last Word doesn’t have a sign or a website yet. Drennan insists this isn’t part of any guerilla marketing effort as some have speculated online. It’s merely a reality of trying to get the bar open as quickly as possible and focusing on the building and the drinks before the marketing: “We’re not aiming to be a speakeasy – just a bar that makes great fucking cocktails.”

Again, my favorite was an Old Forester product, their Birthday Bourbon.

The line up this time was, in order, Four Roses Single Barrel, Angel’s Envy, Jefferson’s, Woodford Reserve, the B-day Bourbon, and Elijah Craig 18 Year.

Elijah Craig seemed to win the tasters’ hearts overall, with a sort of supple, billowy mouthfeel and fat, rich, mildly oaky flavor. It was definitely in my top three, but I found the Old Forester superior in that its smoothness felt a bit less forced, its oak less obvious. On my very first sip, I thought it had a nice woody, almost mineral note, but the more I drank it, the more fruity and full it became.

The Four Roses felt a bit manipulated and obvious, but I have to say, I liked it. Despite any vanilla, which I presume to come from the barrel, there was a clear malty fruit quality that I rather enjoyed. The Jefferson’s I liked more as I diluted it over the tasting. Initially kind of lean and intense compared to the others, it softened with water. Woodford was spicier than I would have thought undiluted, but when I added water, an odd sort of bitter off-flavor emerged. Angel’s Envy was, regardless of dilution, my least favorite. Keeping in mind that I would very much drink the shit out of any of these six bourbons and that I am now, to some extent, just nit-picking, I found the Angel’s Envy to be far too soft, far too fruity, and far too artificial tasting. Layers of artificial, bubble gum-ish flavors, very soft. Not my cup of tea. Or bourbon.

All of these were great bourbons, and I’m pleased to have been there. But for the second tasting in a row, Old Forester is bringing the pain to its competitors at an assortment of prices.

Barkeep, I’ll have another Birthday Bourbon.

1. Stay home and assemble a jigsaw puzzle while drinking whiskey.
2. Stay home and cook a nice meal while drinking whiskey. Try to find a way to use whiskey in at least one of the dishes you are preparing. It looks better that way.
3. Stay home and read a book about whiskey while drinking whiskey.
4. Stay home and download hilarious and disturbing videos of people stepping on each other in order to buy things while you drink whiskey from the comfort of your sofa.
5. Stay home and knit whiskey bottle cozies for holiday gifts while drinking whiskey. Careful, those needles can be pokey.
6. Stay home and invite your friends over to drink whiskey. Make sure you tell them to bring some whiskey. (Pro tip: call this a “whiskey tasting”. It gives it an air of legitimacy.)
7. Stay home and assemble a small distillation apparatus, preferably constructed with copper. Ferment a bit of corn, wheat, barley, or a combination of the three. Run this fermented wash through your shiny new distillation apparatus. Age resulting spirit in wood barrels. (We recommend that you drink whiskey during this process. But please avoid open flames while drinking whiskey.)
8. Set your alarm for 3:30 a.m. Layer your clothing in case of frigid temperatures. Get in your car. Get out of your car. Stay home and drink whiskey.

Happy Thanksgiving!

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.

I came up with this drink for my brother over Christmas. He likes whiskey sours, but as far as brown stuff I was down to Knappogue Castle, so I just whipped something up and it turned out pretty friggin’ rad. I actually served it at the Hostel Detroit party, and it’s a contender for the opening menu.

Corktown Sour
1.5 oz. Irish Whiskey
.5 oz. Italian Vermouth
.25 oz. Demerara (2:1)
.5 oz. Lemon

Shake, double strain into a sour glass, and garnish with a super long ass lemon peel, if you’ve got the stones for it.

I didn’t stay out too late last night, trying instead to get some rest. But some weird combination of factors – noise outside, people in the halls, some sort of weird allergy thing, the time difference – has been waking me up early every morning since I got here, and last night was no exception.

So tonight, I’m determined to get some damn sleep.

As such, it’s been a pretty low key night. More drinks at Haddington’s, this time with dinner. The food there’s pretty damn good, and I just ate a pork chop almost three inches thick that was impressively moist throughout. I also drank a brand of bourbon of which I was not previously aware.

Balcones is a distillery based in Waco, Texas, which I didn’t know when I ordered their True Blue whiskey, but I do now thanks to some fine reporting.

(Interestingly enough, about an hour before I ordered it, I saw an incredibly large man out of the corner of my eye. He looked familiar. With good reason, I think. I’m about 90% sure it was fellow Michigan alumnus and NFL football player and TV star and all-around good dude, Dhani Jones. True Blue, indeed.)

Compared to my friend’s whiskey – another small batch booze, this one from Colorado – the True Blue was markedly lighter. As it turns out, that’s because it has very little age on it. You’d never know it, though, from the nose, which is initially full of cocoa to me. Unlike other young whiskeys I’ve had, this manages to imply sweetness in the form of caramel and tiny bits of vanilla flavor. I wonder if part of that is the blue corn? Either way, there’s a lot going on here for a young spirit, yet it remains dry (and drinkable, despite the 122 proof).

It’s hard to say much of anything after one glass, but these Texans at Balcones are making some solid whiskey. I have to imagine it’s impossible to get, even in a less-than-legal way, in Michigan, but if you’re a boozehound, search this one out.