Whether you call them barrel-aged cocktails, casked cocktails or something else, they’re a tasty reward for drinkers looking for a bit of adventure.
In my case, I created what I call Smoked Manhattans, a blend of rye whiskey, sweet vermouth and bitters. What surprised me was not that my end product was tasty -- it is -- but that its three ingredients took new directions inside a charred cask. Granted I’m a novice at barrel aging liquor, so expectations at the start of this process were cloudy to say the least. But even if my next batch is a mess, I’m loving the adventure.
A little background
I got into this experiment thanks to my lovely wife, Sandi, who bought me a 5-liter oak cask as an anniversary gift (yeah, I know, she is perfect). The instructions with the cask were minimal, and without recipes. And what I found online was limited. The most straightforward resource I found was this post from well-known mixologist Jeffrey Morgenthaler (be sure to read the comments for other tips). Being a fan of Manhattans, I cribbed his recipe.
Before I detail my experience, I think it’s important to know my go-to Manhattan recipe, courtesy of Maker’s Mark master distiller Bill Samuels:
Shake the liquid ingredients for 30 seconds, then strain into a tumbler. Add the cherry, and voila, you have a gorgeous, tasty drink., with the liquor-soaked cherry serving as dessert.
The casking process
My cask is 5 liters, and sold by Oak Barrels Ltd. The barrel is fresh oak, charred on the inside. After you rinse the inside of the cask to remove stray wood and charcoal, you’re ready to go.
Warning: Be gentle with the tap. I pushed mine in too hard and when I tried to remove it, broke the piping and had to order replacements.
Because Morgenthaler’s recipe is for 3 gallons, I had to do some simple math for a 5-liter recipe:
Note that I didn’t add the cherry juice. That’s because sugars don’t age well.
I didn’t have one huge bowl to mix everything at once, so I piecemeal the mixing and poured the mix into the cask — via a funnel — in three different batches.
After putting in the stopper, I found a semi-shady spot atop a cabinet in our house for the cask. Some online sources recommend cool places but that wasn’t an option for me. We keep our house between 78-82 degrees during summer days so it wasn’t blistering like Kentusky distilleries can sometime get but it wasn’t chilly either.
I tried to physically rotate the cask about “5 minutes” a day to ensure liquid was touching all areas of the cash, but I missed a few days here and there.
Morganthaler recommends aging of five to seven weeks, so I didn’t take my first taste until the two-week mark.
After two weeks: Here are my tasting notes at two weeks: I poured a half-finger. The deep copper coloring was sexy, with only a tiny amount of debris from the cask. The aroma and taste was that of an unfinished Manhattan. Because I didn’t add cherry juice to the cask (sugars and aging don’t mix), it didn’t taste like the Manhattan I make — but it could hold its own. Still, two weeks was clearly early.
After four weeks: I pulled a finger after four weeks. The coloring remained terrific. The aroma was full, with hints of wood (but not much smokiness, as I would have expected after a month inside a charred cask). The smokiness came through with the taste, particularly on the back end. I’m liking where we’re heading.
After five weeks: The coloring appeared to be an even deeper copper. The aroma at this point contained obvious wood and smokiness, and the smokiness remained in the taste. I tasted a full finger over a half hour to confirm that it was consistently enjoyable. Jeffrey Morgenthaler recommends five to seven weeks of seasoning for a batch twice the volume, so I’m feeling comfortable giving it another week.
After six weeks: Much darker color week over week, almost the color of maple syrup. Smoother taste, with the alcohol muted. This time, I added some maraschino to see what change that triggered — but I didn’t like it. I actually preferred the natural sweetness from the core ingredients, presumably the vermouth. At six weeks, we’re ready to tap and bottle.
Bottling: I’m not a fancy guy, so I just reused the same source bottles. I tried to soak that labels off the Bulleit bottles but was left with a sticky mess so I just left them on. After draining the keg, I ended up losing about 750 milliliters to evaporation and tasting. I know I tend to pour deep, but I kept my four tastings conservative, so I lost quite a bit to evaporation. I don’t know whether that’s normal or extreme, but just a head’s up.
Circling back to my go-to Manhattan recipe: I still love that simple recipe, but at this point I'm not missing it. The Smoked Manhattan has its own sweetness, but it's muted. But as I noted before, the smoked version doesn't need maraschino, although I'm going to tinker with alternative additives.
Two weeks after bottling, I have already drained a 750-milliliter decanter. This is a smooth concoction that can go quickly.
I drink most of my whiskey and bourbon neat, and this one is no exception. I've tried it with two ice cubes but the taste quickly broke down.
Bottom’s up! And let me know what recipe I should try for my next casked cocktail.
I casked a second batch in mid-March, using a slightly different recipe.
Instead of Bulleit, this time I used Wild Turkey rye whiskey. That turned out to be a wrong turn. Unlike my debut batch, this second round failed to develop a core. I tasted at two, three, four, five and six weeks, and the mixture seemed to degrade with time. The vermouth, which was muted in the first three weeks in the cask, moved to the forefront, and not in a good way. The smokiness I loved in the first batch never arrived.
I bottled after six weeks and have been sampling here and there since. The coloring is gorgeous, but that's about all I like about Batch #2.
Things I'll tinker with in Batch #3:
Results were much better with my third batch, which rivaled the first batch.
A key was keeping the barrel clean between batches, which I did with a mixture of water, citric acid and potassium metabisultphite. That kept the barrel interior fresh and free of contaminants, although it did soften the oakiness.
For Batch 3, I used George Dickel rye whiskey, a few more ounces of Martini vermouth and the same amount of Angostura bitters, and aged for six weeks. The result was a much smoother, more Manhattan-like taste that has held together over the three months since I tapped.
Having said that, for Batch 4, I think I'm going to scale back on the vermouth, as it was slightly too pronounced on the front. I'll also try a fourth different rye, and a different bitter.
As always, please share your recipes, ideas and suggestions.