A Distillery Grows In Manhattan
There hasn’t been a distillery in Manhattan since before Prohibition, and really, why would there be? There’s not a whole lot of space on the island, the rents are exorbitant, and there’s plenty to do besides go watch whiskey being made. True, there’s the Our Vodka distillery, a tiny little thing whose output is said to barely constitute the contents of Our New York. And hey, it’s vodka. So as far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t really count.
The opening of the Great Jones Distilling Company, as it’s known, has set out to make a big splash as a destination spot of sorts, the NYC equivalent of the stylish, state-of-the-art distilleries/visitor centers like Michter’s gorgeous Fort Nelson spot in Louisville, or Bardstown’s stylish digs in the middle of a field somewhere in Kentucky. They’re state-of-the-art distilleries that are also nice places to go have a drink, eat some light bites, buy some branded merch, etc. To have a place like that on Broadway, just steps from the former Tower Records site on East 4th, feels a little… out of place, to be honest. We New Yorkers just don’t DO things like that. Do we?
Juan Domingo Beckmann, of Jose Cuervo/Proximo Spirits fame, is betting that we will. He spent I-can’t-imagine-how-much money to create a 28,000 square foot playground for the boozy crowd. In addition to an impressive Vendome copper still, there’s a bar, a restaurant, a basement speakeasy, performance spaces, even an art installation… you name it. It’s all surprisingly tasteful and not over-the-top, and much as I wanted to be cynical about it, I’ve got to say that when I checked out the place a couple of days ago, it looked pretty cool.
As for the whiskey, they’ve been making it for five years now, upstate at fellow Proximo/New York distillery Black Dirt, although that’s obviously going to change now that the Manhattan stills are ready to roll. I got to try the three expressions they’re currently featuring — an 86-proof bourbon, a 90-proof four grain bourbon (the fourth grain being wheat), and a 90-proof, 100% rye. Distilled by two alumni of Owney’s New York rum and Black Dirt, they’re… OK. My favorite was the rye, which had a nice toasted marshmallow flavor and was mellower and less spicy than what you’d expect from a 100% rye. I think they could all stand to be aged a little longer and be bottled at a higher proof, but I’d also like to check them out again before I pass judgement. It’s also worth noting that the first made-in-New York whiskey of this century, Hudson, was pretty roundly slagged by whiskey buffs when it launched, but it’s improved a lot in recent years. So there’s hope yet for Great Jones.
And I hope it succeeds. Manhattan didn’t really need Great Jones, but now that it’s here, I want it to be a destination for booze nerds as well as a high-profile tourist go-to. With any luck (and a lot of skill, of course) it’ll be both.