Almost 20 years into the bourbon boom, liquor store shelves — both physical and virtual — are more packed than ever with producers and labels fighting for eyeballs. But in the past decade, tucked among the various bourbons and ryes, more bottles carrying the indeterminate “American whiskey” label have appeared.
Frequently sporting remarkably high age statements (and often similarly eye-popping ABVs), most of these bottles come from non-distilling producers (NDPs) or craft distillers that don’t have in-house stock old enough to match the ages on the label. And notably, they’re usually listed for a fraction of the price of similarly aged bourbon. Many feature novel cask finishes, including fortified wines, delicate whites, Armagnac, agave spirits, and even beer barrels. It’s a tempting prospect for whiskey nerds looking for novelty and affordable spirits in the decade-plus age range.
Most of the time, that “American whiskey” is actually light whiskey, a federally designated spirits category with a history as esoteric as the various cask finishes that dot shelves today.
“Any of our whiskeys with the ‘American’ designation are light whiskey,” says Lee Medoff, founder and head distiller of Bull Run Spirits in Portland, Ore. In addition to distilling its own spirits, like some other craft upstarts and NDPs, Bull Run has built a reputation on finishing and bottling light whiskey sourced from Lawrenceburg, Ind.’s MGP Ingredients (MGP).
In the past century of American distilling, no spirit has been as misunderstood as light whiskey. By a similar token, perhaps no other spirit has been as hyped, marketed, rejected, forgotten, rediscovered, renamed, and — more recently — vaunted, all in the span of a half-century.
Light whiskey was conceived in the 1960s as American distilling’s answer to imported clear spirits like vodka and blended whiskeys. If bourbon is truly America’s real native spirit (arguable, at best), light whiskey is its patriotic yet eccentric cousin, a homegrown response to the influx of foreign booze — similar in composition to Canadian corn or blended Scotch whisky, but with a government-approved definition all its own.
“I often hear people laugh when they hear about light whiskey because they don’t know what it is and assume it’s diet whiskey,” says Jacob Kiper, a spirits history buff who runs the prolific Instagram account Coming Whiskey. “The idea that it is a diet or low-calorie product is still very common.”
Low calorie, it is not. And while light whiskey’s history has as many twists and turns as the average political thriller, its uncertain future is what has some whiskey fanatics more curious than ever.
Before we take a trip down memory lane, let’s get clear on what exactly constitutes a light whiskey. Contrary to what its “light” moniker might imply, light whiskey is distilled and aged at far higher proofs than bourbon and rye.
According to the TTB Class and Type Designation list, light whiskey is “Whisky produced in the U.S. at more than 80 percent alcohol by volume (160 proof) [but less than 95 percent alcohol by volume (190 proof)] and stored in used or un-charred new oak containers.”
Bourbon and rye, by contrast, can be distilled to no higher than 160 proof.
Conspicuously absent from light whiskey’s definition are specifics regarding mash bill or grain type, barrel entry proof, and aging durations. As such, producers are allowed to put light whiskey in a barrel at entry proofs above 125, which is the legal limit for bourbon, rye, and wheat whiskey.
Producers can distill light whiskey from any single grain or combination of grains. America’s largest producer of light whiskey has for decades been MGP, which makes light whiskey from a mash of 99 percent corn and 1 percent malted barley.
However, some newer producers of light whiskey have been experimenting with different mash bills. Wisconsin’s La Crosse Distilling Company currently makes a “high rye” light whiskey from “organic rye and a pinch of wheat.”
There is no minimum aging requirement for light whiskey. The spirit’s recent popularity has been in part due to the availability of highly aged stock sourced from MGP, with expressions hitting the market from a few years up to 27 years old.
In contrast, La Crosse’s high-rye light whiskey is “aged no more than a couple of weeks in charred and toasted oak barrels.” Other producers now making light whiskey have been experimenting with various aging times, as well as additional finishing periods in barrels that once held other spirits, beer, or wine.
Legally, light whiskey can be aged in used or uncharred new oak containers. The majority of light whiskey on the market today is aged in used barrels. “As far as I know, we have never aged light whiskey distillate in anything but used charred barrels,” says Ian Stirsman, MGP and Ross & Squibb’s (the modern name for MGP’s main distillery) master distiller.
It’s more cost-effective for light whiskey distillers to age the spirit in used containers, which they’ll often have a surplus of on hand. Adding light whiskey to their distilling program provides “a means to repurpose our ex-bourbon and used finishing casks,” says Christian Huber, distiller at Indiana’s Starlight Distillery. Huber also runs adjacent Huber Winery, which gives his distilling team an ample supply of wine casks to impart additional flavors to their in-house light whiskey stocks.
Like Starlight, many producers today re-barrel or “finish” light whiskey in a variety of other cask types to develop unique flavor profiles.
While it’s common to compare and contrast light whiskey with bourbon, it might make more sense to liken it to the spirit categories it was designed to replace.
“It shares more history with Scotch single grain and Canadian corn whiskies,” says Eugene Nassif, an attorney who co-owns Iowa-based Cats Eye Distillery. Nassif also sources and bottles light whiskey under the Obtainium brand.
And much like Scotch and Canadian single grain, for most of its 50-plus-year history, light whiskey served as a base for a variety of blended whiskey products.
“Canadian corn whiskey and American light whiskey are virtually indistinguishable. I wouldn’t be able to tell them apart enough in a lineup, other than typical cask variation,” Nassif says. “[Both have] strong toffee/caramel notes, vanilla, powdered sugar and good oak.”
While no two casks will taste exactly the same, those lighter oak and toffee notes form an adaptable flavor base that takes well to a variety of cask finishes. (In reviews, I’ve likened some high-proof light whiskey to saccharine sweetness with underpinnings of nutmeg.)
“Light whiskey always did well with finishing,” Nassif continues. “Rye, wine, beer, double oak, Armagnac, maple, honey, you name it. Unlike a bourbon, light whiskey picks up more of the finishing cask and almost never fights the cask like a bourbon or rye could do.”
Medoff of Bull Run has a similar experience.
“Its lack of aggressive barrel notes meant it wouldn’t compete with the finishing barrel,” he says. “We haven’t yet found a pairing that doesn’t work.”
It’s a common belief that light whiskey was developed to compete against clear and “lighter” blended spirits in the 1960s. While light whiskey was born out of changing consumer preferences, initially, American producers were actually seeking to loosen the rules for bourbon and rye.
“In the 1960s, the young baby boomer generation began rejecting the spirits of their parents and grandparents, such as bourbon,” says Kiper. “At this point in American history, lighter spirits such as vodka, blended Scotch, and Canadian whisky were gaining favor with young people. Darker and more bold spirits such as bourbon were quickly losing ground in American culture.”
American whiskey producers needed a card to play, and fast. In the book “Bourbon, Straight: The Uncut and Unfiltered Story of American Whiskey,” author Chuck Cowdery examines how American distillers proposed rules changes allowing spirits distilled to higher proofs and/or aged in used cooperage to still carry “straight bourbon” or “straight rye” on their labels. In 1968, the TTB’s predecessor summarily rejected those wishes, arguing laxer labeling rules would not be “in the interests of the consumer.”
In hindsight, that rejection might have saved bourbon as we know it. The rules for bourbon itself had only been codified in 1964, just a handful of years prior. As long time spirits writer Jim Vorel writes, the proposed changes could have further hobbled an American whiskey industry already facing a decades-long climb back to the top shelf.
But the rejection came with an offering: the creation of a new category called “light whiskey.” Domestic producers could now distill to higher proofs — resulting in a “lighter-” bodied spirit closer to the character of imports — and age the whiskey without investing in new barrels.
The industry leaned into light whiskey; Cowdery cites a 1971 Time Magazine article suggesting industry giants Schenley, Seagram’s, National Distillers, American Distilling, and Publicker would soon have a combined 200 million gallons aging on hand. Shortly thereafter, light whiskey began hitting the market under brand names like Crow Light and Four Roses Premium, bottles often marketed as having dialed-back, “lighter” taste.
(I have an early, unopened bottle of Crow Light in my personal collection. The color is closer to dull lemonade than the typical amber hues of bourbon.)
First released to the public in 1972, light whiskey was a huge flop. Anticipated hoards of consumers enjoying it neat and in cocktails never materialized. Less than a decade after its introduction, producers were already moving beyond the spirit.
But production didn’t halt entirely. Producers like Seagram’s kept distilling it at its Indiana plant, which today is owned by MGP. Most of the spirit was blended into products like Seagram’s 7, with truckloads shipped to Canada for inclusion in a variety of other blended releases.
For decades after its market introduction and subsequent bust, light whiskey was relegated to blends (and the annals of American whiskey history). But a single phone call set light whiskey on its resurrection path from forgotten relic to niche spirits darling.
In the late 2000s, High West co-founder David Perkins began sourcing well-aged rye whiskey from MGP. During his initial visits to MGP (then Seagram’s Distillery), Perkins also sampled some of its aging light whiskey — but since his focus at the time was rye, he passed on acquiring the “other” spirit.
Fast-forward a couple years, and Perkins got a second bite at the light whiskey apple. Contacts at MGP called Perkins, said they were likely discontinuing light whiskey production, and wanted to see if he was interested in several hundred barrels of aged stock they had available.
(Any halt in MGP’s production was short-lived, and Ian Stirsman has confirmed the distillery actively produces light whiskey today.)
“I said, ‘Send me a sample.’ They did, I tasted it, and I said ‘YES!’,” Perkins recalls. “It was that simple. There was no ‘barrel selection.’ I took what I could get.”
Of course, acquiring hundreds of barrels of light whiskey was one thing; figuring out what to do with it was another. While Perkins and his team sat on the stock for several years, one of their occasional collaborators was actually the first to release a light whiskey back on the market.
In 2014, Single Cask Nation bottled and sold a 13-year-old light whiskey. As far as anyone can tell, it was the first new bottle to bear the name “light whiskey” on its label in decades. Sources have confirmed that the whiskey was sourced from the High West stocks.
In April 2016, High West released its own light whiskey, this time bottled at 14 years old and 92 proof. Perkins used his labels to poke fun at the oft-misinterpreted name.
“I thought an Edison light bulb on the label was appropriate to continue the misunderstanding of this whiskey,” he says.
At first, reception was timid at best. Light whiskey still had a ways to go from resurrected oddity to in-demand product.
“It certainly didn’t light up the cash registers!” Perkins says. “It was a new unknown product for the newly emerging market segment ‘whiskey geek.’”
A near-legendary — but tougher to conclusively verify — aspect of the High West story is that these barrels were intended for trucking to Canada for use in blended whiskey. They were accidentally left behind at MGP and nearly forgotten as they continued to age.
Whatever the case, there was certainly more aged light whiskey to be had beyond what Perkins bottled, whether through barrel brokers or purchased directly from MGP. (Nassif, for example, has gone both routes to source light whiskey for Obtainium bottlings.)
The Single Cask Nation and High West bottlings created early interest among newer generations of whiskey drinkers. But a dearth of highly aged bourbon and rye was the essential fuel needed to spark real buzz.
“When NDPs went looking for well-aged MGP whiskey, bourbon and rye were in short supply, but there was light whiskey with high age statements and high proof,” says Kiper. “Consumers clamoring for high proof and high age got something new.”
The years since have seen a wave of new light whiskey bottlings from dozens of brands, including both NDPs and craft distillers that also source. Some lean into spine-tingling cask strength of certain barrels, bottling the whiskey at “hazmat” proofs. (Since light whiskey often goes into the barrel well above 125 proof, it commonly rises above 140 over the course of aging.) Tinkering with cask finishes is another popular method to build new flavors on top of light whiskey’s reliably sweet — but not overly tannic — flavor base. Virtually all the sourced liquid still comes from MGP.
Companies like Ry3, Dancing Goat, Hooten Young, Jacob’s Pardon, and Copper Sky have released various light whiskey expressions, some carrying the “American whiskey” title to appeal to broader audiences. Though spirits labeled “American whiskey” are most often light whiskey, occasionally, some bottlings feature distillate made to normal bourbon specifications, but aged in used cooperage. These spirits would not meet the minimum distillation proof of 160 that light whiskey requires.
Some contemporary light whiskey age statements have crept past the quarter-century mark; Proof and Wood, Old Carter, and Whiskey Town have all released light or “American whiskey” bottlings at or over 25 years old.
Penelope — which MGP acquired in 2023 — has also released several bottlings, marking the first time MGP has sold a product marketed as light whiskey under one of its own labels. (The Penelope bottlings are labeled “American light whiskey.”)
Other companies — like Starlight in Indiana, La Crosse in Wisconsin, and Austin 101 in Texas — have begun distilling their own versions with unique mash bills and aging techniques.
Since its inception, light whiskey has faced a fierce battle for adoption among consumers. That’s resulted in a number of myths and misconceptions surrounding the spirit.
“Light whiskey is not aged vodka or diet whiskey. That has to be number one,” says Nassif.
“Another misconception is that light whiskey is harsh. While the proof of some casks can be high, it really is a nuanced, delicate spirit that opens up well with a few drops of water. It almost always drinks well, well below its proof.”
And while it’s a moderate success among today’s bourbon nerdom, light whiskey is still fighting its long-held impression as a second-class spirit.
“The perception that light whiskey cannot be approached with seriousness was a challenge for our team at Starlight,” says Huber, citing the “remarkable depth of flavor” his team has been able to impart to light whiskey via a variety of first- and second-use finishing casks.
A steep learning curve isn’t light whiskey’s only contemporary obstacle. As with bourbon and rye before it, those deep stocks of old MGP light whiskey will start to dry up.
“At some point, the stock of light whiskey with extended aging statements is going to become scarce,” says Kiper. “The category is fun because we’re drinking a whiskey with potentially 15 years of age. We can’t reproduce 15-year-old whiskey overnight.”
“Light whiskey is fun because of the big age statements,” he continues. “Without the big age statements, I’m not sure consumers would really be all that interested.”
That’s one perspective, coupled with a hefty dose of supply reality. For others in the industry, the future of light whiskey lies less with novelty bottlings and more with the foreign-born inspirations for its genesis: single-grain spirits built for blending.
“I like that we are now moving beyond bottling light whiskey and now using it in blends like what has been done in Scotland and Canada,” says Nassif. “I hope more [producers] explore it, because it has the soft, sweet notes and finish that really adds to bourbons, ryes, and even American single malt.”
The article What Is Light Whiskey? The Past, Present, and Future of America’s Most Misunderstood Spirit appeared first on VinePair.