On Maker's Mark

By now, you may have heard that the creators of Maker's Mark have decided to increase the amount of water in their bourbon, in order to stretch supplies in the face of a recent surge in demand for the whiskey.  I caught wind of this development this past weekend, in an e-mail I received because I was a Maker's Mark Ambassador, which is a glorified listserv, but also guaranteed me certain privileges, including my own barrel of Maker's Mark when it came of age.

To say I'm not happy with Maker's Mark's decision is a bit of an understatement.  Here is the letter I sent in response.

Messrs. Samuels:

I once read that every time you make a purchase, you are casting a ballot for the kind of world you wish to live in.  If this is the case, then not buying something has a similar impact.

This decision regarding your up-until-now excellent product deeply saddens me.  While I wish you every success on increasingly the economic viability of your company at the expense of your product, your customers, and your integrity, as for me, I will not associate myself or my money with people who voluntarily seek to profit in this manner.

Please consider this my resignation as a Maker's Mark Ambassador.  I do not want future e-mail or postal updates, and I request that you remove my name from the barrel of bourbon in your possession you have reserved for me.

I will neither be purchasing, nor encouraging others to purchase, Marker's Mark in the future.  I am casting my ballot for the kind of world I want to live in, and that world does not have watered down Maker's Mark in it.

Thank you.

I'm really sad to have had to do this.  In 2009, we traveled the Bourbon Trail, and it was by far my favorite distillery in the cycle.  Maker's Mark, I've heard it described quite accurately, is the Samuel Adams of bourbon.  It's "wheated" -- its wheat content is much higher than other bourbons -- meaning that it lacks the rye spiciness of some others.  But more importantly, it's accessible.  It's competitively priced in the market, and, as bourbons go, it's relatively mild in character on its own, with enough oomph to stand up well in a cocktail.  It's been the gateway for many of us into the world of excellent American whiskey.  As such, it's been my go-to bourbon for several years now, and I was always proud to be able to introduce even non-bourbon drinkers to it.

Not anymore.

Bourbon whiskey is enjoying a huge rise in popularity both in the United States and worldwide.  My guess is that they've chosen an expedient solution to capitalize on this surge in demand, striking while the iron is hot, so to speak.  In part, I think that they've decided that "putting more product on the market" is more important than "increasing the price of the product that's already on the market" because they are planning to charge the same price for the lower quality product.  That expedient decision to increase supply of a lower quality product labeled "Maker's Mark", rather than raising the price of their good product in the face of higher demand, does make a certain amount of sense, financially.

But it's a colossally bad decision from a historical, marketing perspective.  The problem is that Maker's Mark, and craft bourbon, and bourbon generally, and whiskey generally, are not products that respond well to expedience.  Bourbon takes years to make.  It takes quality water, quality grains, quality barrels, and quality weather.  A quality bourbon is the result of craftsmanship, quality ingredients, and, above all, time.   Expedience is anathema to bourbon.  Expedience violates the entire spirit of what bourbon is.  I know these things because of how bourbon is marketed.  Bourbon is made carefully, and enjoyed carefully.  Therefore, expedience contradicts the very marketing that bourbon manufacturers have produced to tell us about it.  And, from that point-of-view, expedience is a slap in the face of the consumer who has, in part, had his ego stroked by references to his sense of style and taste and his attention to detail, matched by the goods he has purchased.

What Maker's Mark tells me by doing this is that all that marketing really was just marketing; that their "incidental" changes are not substantive enough to be noticed by the customers they have courted in the past due to their discriminating nature.  It is a marketing decision, of course.  But what that marketing says is "We aren't going to provide a product that matches our consumers' style, taste, or attention to detail because we don't think you have any.  You have bought whatever we put in a bottle and sealed up with red wax now for years, and we think you'll keep doing it."

Maybe they're right.  Maybe the market won't even notice.

At best, I think this is a ham-handed, ill-thought-through decision to try to capitalize on rapidly changing market trends.  I'm absolutely certain Maker's Mark meant nothing personal by this.  And maybe they really do believe that their testers can't tell the difference between a 90 proof whiskey and an 84 proof one.  And really, that's beside the point.  I can tell the difference between a 90 proof whiskey and an 84 proof whiskey.  I enjoy both.  I can and do enjoy both.  So that's not why I'm upset.  If Maker's Mark was 84 proof from the start, I wouldn't be upset that it wasn't 90.  So I'm not upset that Maker's Mark has decided to sell an 84-proof version of Maker's Mark and call it Maker's Mark, because they may well have done it from the start.  If I just wanted more booze, I would buy Wild Turkey 101.  (Well, I often do, and because I like it, not just that it contains 5.5% more alcohol by volume.)

And this isn't really a question of "who moved my cheese?", either.  I'm not afraid of change.   I'm not necessarily resentful when people decide to alter something that I like because it happens to help them out in some way.  I am a logical person and can think things through.


What I resent is when I get pandered to and patronized and treated like a mindless drone who does whatever I get told to do. And that's exactly what's happened here.  I'm being treated like a fool and a walking wallet, and I won't have it.  There's simply too much product on the market for me to waste my time with people who obviously don't care enough about who I am to want my business.  Accordingly, I will assist with the global supply problem Maker's Mark is experiencing by reducing my demand and consumption of Maker's Mark to zero.

A BLtB Take on the Greyhound

Last night, while I was watching the Hounds Group during the Westminster Kennel Club dog show, I had a sudden hankering for a Greyhound.  Of course, we already have an actual greyhound -- "Xtrem Palazzo", better known around these parts as Nike.  No, this time I wanted a Greyhound, but in typical fashion, I took a traditional recipe, added a bunch of stuff to it, and made it my own.

One will notice similarities between this drink and the Harvey Wallbanger. The Harvey Wallbanger was the first alcoholic drink that I can honestly say I knew anything about.  My extended family has this tradition of going out to eat on a Friday or Saturday around Christmastime, and my uncle always used to get my mom a couple of these.  (Mom is an exceptionally happy drunk!)  Fast forward about fifteen years, and the Harvey Wallbanger became a bit of a staple during our "we're sophisticamacated drinkers! lol!" stage.  So I have had a bottle of Galliano in the house for a while now.

Galliano is a sweet, slightly spicy, and syrupy liqueur.  I never really was creative enough to come up with any other use for it except for Harvey Wallbangers, until this past November.  We were visiting some friends in Boston, and they had a number of advertisements for "absolute greyhounds" all over the "T" stops.  Thinking that a grapefruit juice/vodka drink was analogous to a screwdriver, it didn't take a huge leap to think what was the similar analogue to the Harvey Wallbanger.  Voilà!  Some tinkering back at the house, and this drink was born.  All I think it needs now is an actual name.  (What we came up with at the time, "The Harvey Gangbanger" seems uncouth to me now.)
 

Better Living Through Bitters' Take on the Greyhound

• 2 oz. vodka. I used Smirnoff Black Batch No. 55.  I know next to nothing about vodka, and this is what Kelly had in the bar.
• 3 oz. grapefruit juice.  I suppose this would be better with freshly-squeezed juice.  For expediency's sake, I used some generic "100% juice" from the local grocery store.
• 3 dashes grapefruit bitters.  I use Fee Brothers Grapefruit Bitters.  They are awesome, and really make this drink come together.
• Shake vigorously, with ice, and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.
• Float a healthy amount of Galliano on top.  Probably about an ounce; enough to make a good circle around the outside of the glass.  I suppose this could be shaken in with the rest of the ingredients, too, but I like the change in density and temperature as you work through the Galliano.

A short note on the point of this 'blog

 I intend to use this weblog to discuss any number of my hobbies -- cocktail recipes, home brewing, locavorianism, wet shaving -- that in my mind have all started to become interrelated.  The name, "Better Living through Bitters", relates to my belief that the ancient, ubiquitous and yet oddly forgotten and ignored cocktail spice is as important to our understanding, appreciation and enjoyment of alcoholic beverages, as are any number of the, shall we say, more traditional mores, that harken back to an earlier, less automated, less consumeristic, and possibly more meaningful era.  My point-of-view on this has changed radically over time, and has been influenced by many of you.  I hope to share and create some new, "more traditional mores", with you in the future.