Austin Hope is a wine person. He grew up with wine and had always worked on his family's winery in Paso Robles, California. But that has changed. Nowadays, he is focusing much of his attention to his own personal love: whiskey.
His whiskey company, Highspire, is based in Kentucky. And if there's one thing whiskey distillers and winemakers will tell you, it is that the two drinks are worlds apart. “They're polar opposites,” Hope confirms.
“It's a different mindset—and the only similarity is supposed to be that they use barrels and fermentation, but for me it's more fun [than that].” The Week reported that Hope traveled for five years asking why whiskey production does not use any new technology and methods. One exasperated distiller finally answered him, “Because we don't!”
Hope was unfazed. He found a distillery and decided to play around with the process using his background in making wine. His farmer was tasked to produce a heirloom rye that would be turned into a “single varietal.”
Though the rye only produced half-proof gallons per barrel, compared to the four or more gallons from corn, Hope persevered. To address the proof issue, he used another winemaking trick: enzymes. The use of enzymes and yeasts yielded four-proof per bushel which is “pretty unheard of.”
He used lightly charred barrels as per whiskey requirements. He mentions that wine critics who taste too much oak in the wine would mark it poorly. For his whiskey, however, it is all about the barrel. Hope's whiskey was going to take the wine route and “make it all about the grain.”
Hope's process differs wildly from traditional wine and whiskey production in aging time. A good bottle of wine, Hope explains, usually takes 12 to 16 months of aging. Traditional whiskey practices also abide by the same rules. In fact, “time equals quality” is the way to go with whiskey. Hope's whiskey, on the other hand, only takes 130 days of aging.
The result is a 100% rye whiskey that has fruity notes from the wine barrels. It also has a woody finish from the rye. Many may scoff at this experimental spirit that cannot be safely called whiskey or even wine. But for its creator, “It makes a really neat wine,” then quickly corrects himself, “I mean cocktail.”