Mad River Distillers - a review

       At long last it was a perfect spring day. The hubby and I decided to do something Vermontish. A great researcher, he found a Vermont distillery in the Waitsfield area. As a child, I spent many happy times in Waitsfield. Our relatives owned the General Wait home. Back then, the history was lost on me, so to take a drive in that direction seemed a wonderful way to spend the afternoon.

       Getting to the distillery is fairly easy. It is, however, my 5 month old car’s first time on a dirt road – in mud season. Fortunately, we emerge on the other side unscathed.

       When we arrive at the Mad River Distillers, a yeasty, bready scent welcomes us. The distillery has a cleanness and newness about it. The building is small, perhaps “bigger on the inside.”

       Our guide Will welcomes us and gives us “the tour.” The tour itself would normally take mere minutes, but he cheerfully answers my hubby’s questions. Will clearly enjoys both his work and discussing it.

       Several giant vats hold mash in various stages. The first one seems to boil with its yeasty production of gases. The second vat percolates more gently and the third shows no motion on the surface.

       The still is a coppery, bulbous, tubular wonder. It seems part pressure cooker and part time machine. As hubby and Will talk filtration systems, I hear, “Blah, blah, blah.” This isn’t because I don’t understand; I get distracted trying to figure out how I know this fellow.

       Ding ding ding! I figure it out. He resembles “Tom” from The Blacklist. Okay, now I can listen better to them talk about barrels and charcoal and maple water. I just hope I don’t slip and call him “Tom.”

       When our “tour” is finished, Will offers to let us sample their spirits. He produces tiny plastic shot glasses reminiscent of communion cups. Into these he pours perhaps a quarter ounce of the first sample, their Malvados apple brandy.

       How can a liquid can crash like fire into your oral mucosa and yet flood your olfactory nerves with joy at the same time? I don’t know, but I think I’m in love. I manage to make the brandy last for three sips. It tastes like an apple, it tastes like cinnamon, it lingers like spice with a fire that isn’t cinnamon at all. If I were to count the humming tingling in my mouth after the last sip, I’d say there were four distinct layers. It’s not a “girly” drink, not unless you are the girl in Cake’s “Short Skirt, Long Jacket” song, which I sometimes pretend I am. The next time I have a bad cold, I’d seriously think about reaching for Malvados.

       Next, we sampled their corn whiskey. I’ve never before had corn whiskey. If yellow had a flavor, it would taste exactly like that. I didn’t sort the flavors this time. It wanted me to taste it all at once. I tasted banjos and corn, something wild, innocent and even a touch of don’t-let-mom-catch-you. Instantly I was at the end of summer before school resumed, barefoot and chewing on a piece of timothy grass. It was nearly overwhelming to me, both with its strange flavor and emotional impact. It’s not a beverage I could drink often, but one I definitely would try again.

       To me, the First Run Rum doesn’t taste much like rum. It’s labeled as 48% alcohol, so that must be why. It’s quite potent, more like Bacardi’s 151. The distillers offer recipes on their webpage. I wouldn’t mix the First Run into a drink. Although it doesn’t strike me as very rummy, it is very sippable, providing a cheerful midthoracic warming.

       The Maple Rum again provided a hearty burn within the mouth and warming in the chest. But what? Unmistakable maple bloomed in my mouth. That flavor is why pear thrips and Asian longhorns are such horrid concepts to us in Vermont. This delicate taste called maple simply must be preserved for the ages. Will recommends that this one may taste better chilled.

       We move on to Vanilla Rum. This is the most “girly” of their rums and will lend itself best to mixed drinks. Its flavor of alcohol is a little lighter. It might go well in a vanilla milkshake. It’s drinkable by itself and also might be more flavorful if served chilled.

       By this time, we are joking that we may need to sit for a while before heading home. We chat and exchange ideas about sugaring, dairy, mud season and Vermont wineries. Will shares the challenges and complexities inherent in the liquor sales business. The Mad River Distillers are clearly artisans who understand practicality.

       At this point, my taste buds are almost overloaded. I know I won’t be able to sift through the flavors as carefully as with the first taste tests. We just have their versions of rye and bourbon left. Will had saved them for last due to their strong taste. They definitely tasted like rye and bourbon. I lost my taste for Manhattans a couple years ago, but these both would hold their own with sweet Vermouth and bitters.

       We visited a bit more and thanked Will for his time. He invited us to come back again. I know he meant it.

       Since we were out this far and the weather promised to hold, we took a wonderfully winding and steep (or treacherous, if you prefer) road back. We’d never been to or through Buels Gore. Now we have!

       So, for your next day trip, I recommend checking out the Mad River Distillers. I want to go back for some more of the Malvados. Or did you already guess that?