Minting a New San Francisco Spirit on Treasure Island
Shortly after California became a state in 1850, prospectors in fog–laden saloons of San Francisco were often compelled to set down flakes of gold dust for just a dram of whiskey, good or bad. The place has come a long way since then, and now accepts AmEx — but in at least one Bay Area distillery, the stuff is still reckoned in gold. Situated on Treasure Island in the San Francisco Bay, Gold Bar Whiskey produces its whiskey beneath the same balmy sun and foggy nights that welcomed prospectors during the gold rush — but there's far more gold than they likely ever saw. Their flagship product is bottled in gleaming bottles which neatly resemble ingots and are stackable like Fort Knox surplus, and on each one you'll find an equally eye-catching "Lady of Fortune" medallion. This custom heroine holds stalks of corn, barley, and rye in her right hand — and with her left leans on a pickax.
If you were thinking that this spirit ought to be the official whiskey of the San Francisco 49ers, you'll be happy to know that it is.
But humdrum halftime hooch, this isn't. Gold Bar Whiskey achieves accessibility alongside subtlety, with flavor profiles that nod frequently to fruity notes drawn from the wine casks the company uses for aging — barrels typically far less charred than those made expressly for whiskey. The results are soft-spoken whiskeys with a lot to say.
This barrel-forward mentality draws on the resume of master blender Monty Paulsen, who brings 25 years of professional winemaking to the company. An affable, native San Franciscan and bon vivant, Paulsen has the vocabulary and inclinations you'd expect of a second-generation winemaker, and his imprint on the product is clear. Indeed, for a company named after one of the heavier elements, its flagship whiskeys are on the lighter side.
Gold Bar currently offers three bottles, each pulling widely different personalities from their times in distinct barrel aging regimens.
Original
40% ABV, $49.99
Appearance: a pleasant, burnished brass tone, indicative of the light char its former Napa Valley barrels received.
Nose: bananas, fruit salad, clover honey.
Palate: reminiscent of white port that's not too sweet, with some surprising notes of buttermint that dissolve into banana Laffy Taffy (almost distinctly so) with hints of vanilla.
Finish: subtle and light-handed, fading into vanilla as it dissipates easily off your tongue.
"Effortlessly drinkable" and "approachable" are compliments this whiskey will get frequently in the press, and that's not a bad thing. Its well-balanced ratio of 88% corn, 9% rye and 3% barley are a good, sweet intro into whiskey for those who don't know if they like it, with easy-going white wine overtones mixing effortless into a soft, sweet grain background.
Black Double Cask Straight Bourbon
46% ABV, $52.99
Appearance: a heavy, dark amber in color, thanks to the 3-6 years spent in new oak barrels plus the finishing period in wine barrels.
Nose: heavier, wet smoke from a campfire of green wood, smoldering cherry pipe tobacco.
Palate: caramel treats, salted taffy, root beer reduction, dark amber honey and molasses; smooth like warm caramel rather than butter. A nice ice cube mellows out the smoke, leaving you to explore those flavors from the wine barrels: tart frozen cherries and that familiar all-spice flavor of rye.
Finish: sarsaparilla root, licorice treats, light tobacco.
At 20% rye, with only corn for the remainder of the mash bill, this black bottle would have been spicy even if it hadn't spent quality time in New American Oak barrels, where it got the full brunt of the tannins before a moderate rounding out in old wine barrels. Rye enthusiasts might say the wine mellows out the spice too much, but really what this pour needs is a nice ice sphere to draw out all that aging and finishing detail.
Rickhouse Cask Strength Bourbon
51.5% ABV, $34.99
Appearance: noticeably ruddier in color than the others, almost a claret-like mahogany.
Nose: rye makes itself known right away with strong tones of baking spices. Surprisingly, no smoke to my nose: more burnt sugar, créme brûlée and marshmallows.
Palate: more of the notes from the nose, and being cask-strength, almost overwhelmingly so. Ice makes this whiskey come alive, dulling the alcohol and letting the char unfold. Toasted nuts, molasses crunch and peanut brittle meet more simple notes of brown sugar, tobacco and coffee grounds.
Finish: a hint of a sweet minerality, like baking soda and ground salt in homemade cookies.
The same mash bill as the Double Cask Straight Bourbon, this bottle compounds rye's innate spiciness with a wallop of char. Perhaps the least reminiscent of wine in Gold Bar's lineup, since the extra char featured here would dominate even the strongest reds.
Still, the vineyard focus on the barrel remains: this bottle was made with an eye to really getting at the taste of barrel char rather than making another over-aged rye. After we finished the glass, Paulsen went to his office and brought out a jar of char dregs, the remnants from barrels that had previously held Rickhouse. These wispy shavings of embers nearly fall apart in our mouths and tasted strongly of pipe tobacco and coffee, and Paulsen filled our heads with ideas when he suggested them as a topping for ice cream.
Paulsen is an advocate for the barrel, and that's refreshing in an age where most whiskey is aged in exactly the same sort of barrel as its neighbor in the liquor store aisle. Though Gold Bar Whiskey will likely be known for its flagship gold bars, their success and commercial partnerships have given them a platform for some interesting barrel-forward experimentation, of which the Rickhouse is the latest.
No matter your preference, you can find Gold Bar Whiskey in most liquor stores and airports across the globe.