Whiskey of the Week: Blue Run elbowed its way into the high-end bourbon world. Is it worth $100+?
Does bourbon need a SNKRS-type hype cycle of artificial scarcity and big prices?
The high-end whiskey market is, frankly, a little bit stupid right now.
It has been for a while. Blanton’s, for example, used to be a pretty good bourbon you could find many places for around $48 a bottle a decade ago. Now it’s mostly relegated to resale markets at prices that in no way reflect the good, not incredible spirit within.
Needless to say, this demand for high quality whiskey that doesn’t necessarily have to be elite has spurred a rash of new contenders to a crowded field. On one hand, they’re pushing the average bottle price higher and higher and creating a swelling tide of prices that don’t always equate to the booze you’re getting. On the other, if they’re filling that void while, say Four Roses or Rare Breed, can stay affordable and folks are content dropping $100-plus on a bottle, well, godspeed.
This is where Blue Run comes in.
Its inaugural offering was a 13-year bourbon that clocks in at $175. What’s the history behind that price point? What’s the story that goes into each cask? What’s the tale bourbon nerds can tell when they break at the bottle at a party? Well, uh, there isn’t really anything truly unique other than the fact it looks expensive, and is.
An old, esteemed whiskey head (Jim Rutledge) joined forces with a new, rising whiskey head (Shaylyn Gammon) and together they blend bourbons distilled elsewhere. The founders behind the spirit are exactly the types you’d expect to bring SNKRS-type drops and limited releases to the world of high-end whiskey; bourbon-loving executives who saw an opportunity.
Blue Run wants to create an exclusive world unto itself despite lacking the history of other exclusive spirits. Or, barring that, they just want you to drop three figures on a fifth of booze.
That’s a frustrating place to start, but none of it matters if the bourbon itself is good. Today’s review is a bottle of the high rye whiskey, second batch. Let’s see if it’s worth the $100 price tag.
Blue Run high rye whiskey: B+
In fairness, Blue Run — a product name merely one letter away from being “the wine so bad it made the news” — looks like a premium drink. The bottle is lovely, with a pearlescent butterfly front and center. At 111 proof it promises cask strength goodness and a rich, mahogany color that suggests it had plenty of time to sit and think about what it did in oak barrels.
The smell off the top is unmistakably boozy but complex. There’s a lot of fruit hiding under the grain, along with a little spice. Maybe nutmeg? Cinnamon? Something comforting.
There’s some definite heat involved which, at 55.5 percent alcohol, duh. But it’s not overpowering and there are plenty of intricate flavors underneath. Some of those sweet stone fruits, a little spice and some dry sugar to close things out. There’s a little bit of cinnamon toast to the whole proceeding, which you have to search for but I swear it’s there.
It’s good bourbon. Maybe not $100 bourbon, but that’s the world we live in. I’m gonna add an ice cube because that’s a thing I enjoy. Feel free to mock me.
Blue Run high rye whiskey on ice: B+
The ice softens the profile without taking away those deeply ingrained flavors. That makes a heavy spirit easier to sip, though you don’t get quite the same profile and intensity of the unadjusted pour. I like it roughly as much as the straight pour; you lose some of the stuff that makes it interesting, but it’s an easier, smoother sip with solid replay value. As long as you have at least $85 (depending on your local package store) for the next bottle.
The question isn’t whether Blue Run is good. A bunch of rich executives got together and ensured it would be, at the very least, above average. The question is whether it’s worth premium sneaker prices and the hype of bourbon’s next big thing.
After drinking a similar new(ish), high-priced bottle in Kentucky Owl, I’m not sure it is. It’s a proper sip that fits alongside ryes at half the price. If you’re asking me whether I’d buy this at $100 or Limousin Rye for $35 to $45, I’m gonna roll with Limousin every time.
Would I drink it instead of a Hamm’s?
This a pass/fail mechanism where I compare whatever I’m drinking to my baseline cheap beer. That’s the standby from the land of sky-blue waters, Hamm’s. So the question to answer is: on a typical day, would I drink Blue Run High Rye over a cold can of Hamm’s?
Oh, absolutely. But I could get 200 cans of Hamm’s for the starting price of a Blue Run bottle, so this feels… unfair.