I won’t say that I love all bourbon, but I can truthfully tell you that I do appreciate anything that can legally be called “bourbon”. I am sort of a bourbon snob because I prefer to drink “sipping bourbon” (as my friends at the Heaven Hill distillery like to refer to it) but I can still appreciate the hard work and careful attention to detail that must go into any bourbon. The way I see it, I wouldn’t be a true American If I had no appreciation for something that was exclusively made right here in the good old USA! All that being said, you can view and read about my favorites in our Bourbon Reviews section.
I am happy that you have decided to stop by our blog. If you ever have any questions, please feel free to shoot me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org. I look forward to hearing from you and I hope you enjoy your time here with us at bourbonjournal.com!
Co-editor, The Bourbon Journal
You could say I was destined to become a bourbon drinker. I grew up on a 110 acre farm in Nicholas County KY. While both of my parents are teetotalers, my father’s parents were bourbon drinkers. My grandfather “Pappy Bill” drank bourbon and soda, and my grandmother “Grand Zoe” drank bourbon and water. Their bourbon of choice. . . Yellowstone. Then there is my grandfather on my mother’s side “Popa” who was the Sheriff of Bourbon County for a number of years. With that in mind it was only a matter of time before I found bourbon for myself.
When I graduated college I found a decent job and was living in my own place for the first time. As a graduation/housewarming gift my grandmother had given me a bottle of Yellowstone and a few times a week after a long day at work I would get together with my neighbor and we’d drink some Yellowstone on the rocks. We both quite liked it and it wasn’t long before we were in need of another bottle. At the time I was living in VT and had every intention of going down to the liquor store and picking up another bottle of Yellowstone, little did I know that; 1) Yellowstone is not what one might consider a “top shelf” bottle of bourbon, and 2) you would be hard pressed to find a bottle of the stuff outside of Kentucky. So I found myself in a liquor store in Montpelier, VT staring at the bourbon selection not having a clue what to get. To the best of my recollection I think I grabbed a bottle of Basil Hayden. Needless to say, after trying some quality bourbon I was even more enthralled than I had been previously. My friend and I would alternate buying the next bottle, sampling different bourbons each time. While working in Raleigh I met my co-contributor, Blake Shiver, who has also become a dear friend of mine. On a fairly regular basis Blake and I get together to smoke some cigars, drink some bourbon and shoot the shit. At some point along the way I suggested in passing that we go to Kentucky and tour the Bourbon Trail. He agreed and we planned the trip. I can honestly say that I learned more about bourbon on that trip than I ever thought I would, and along with Blake, developed a passion not only for bourbon itself, but the history, heritage, and industry surrounding it.
Co-editor, The Bourbon Journal