Can This Hudson Valley Farm Make Americans Care About Brandy?

Long before bourbon became America’s native spirit, locals were distilling fruit. Colonial farmers transformed apples into Applejack throughout the Northeast, fermented peaches and pears when harvests exceeded demand, and produced grape brandies wherever vineyards could survive. Brandy wasn’t just a European luxury or a niche after-dinner drink; it was one of the country’s earliest and most widespread spirits. Yet while bourbon evolved into a global category and American wine earned international acclaim, brandy largely disappeared from the domestic conversation. Today, the world’s most celebrated brandies come from places like Cognac, Armagnac, and Calvados — not the United States.

That disconnect became something of an obsession for entrepreneur John Frishkopf. “Why is there no great brandy?” he remembers asking himself.

The question eventually led Frishkopf and his co-founder Brett Mattingly to spend the better part of a decade building Klocke Estate, a regenerative farm in New York’s Hudson Valley that includes vineyards, heritage apple orchards, a winery, a distillery, a restaurant, and hospitality experiences dedicated almost entirely to brandy. But Klocke is not simply trying to revive a forgotten spirit. It is attempting something more ambitious: to answer a question American producers have largely ignored for generations. If brandy helped shape America’s earliest drinking traditions, what should a great American brandy actually taste like?

Credit: Klocke Estate

Why America Forgot Brandy

Located just outside Hudson, N.Y., Klocke Estate feels remarkably different from most American distilleries. Visitors arrive at a sprawling agricultural property where vineyards and orchards stretch across rolling hillsides. Guests linger over lunch, looking toward the vines before wandering the grounds and tasting through a collection of brandies. The experience feels closer to Europe’s great wine and brandy houses than a traditional American distillery — and that’s precisely the point.

In many ways, Klocke is attempting to recreate a relationship that once existed naturally in America. Frishkopf explains that during the colonial period and well into the 19th century, brandy production was often inseparable from farming. Fruit that could not be consumed, sold, or preserved was distilled, creating products that were easier to store and transport.

Prohibition disrupted much of that tradition, and unlike whiskey, brandy never fully recovered. As American drinking culture evolved throughout the 20th century, consumers increasingly associated fine brandy with Europe. Cognac became the benchmark, while domestic brandy struggled to establish a clear identity of its own.

For Frishkopf, that identity crisis remains the category’s greatest challenge. “In 20 years, American brandy will no longer be viewed as a monolith or a niche alternative to whiskey,” he predicts. “It will be defined by globally recognized, hyper-regional appellations. Just as the world understands the distinct differences between Cognac, Armagnac, and Calvados, consumers will understand the difference between a Hudson Valley brandy and a West Coast brandy.”

Credit: Klocke Estate

A Story of the Orchard, Not the Barrel

American Brandy’s biggest obstacle may also be that it has spent decades trying to compete on bourbon’s terms. While many producers have pursued the familiar flavors American consumers associate with whiskey — vanilla, caramel, char, and oak — Frishkopf believes brandy should express something entirely different.

“Whiskey is very often a story of the barrel, whereas true fruit brandy must be a story of the orchard and the vineyard,” he says.

That philosophy begins on Klocke’s 182-acre regenerative farm, where the estate grows 43 varieties of heritage American, French, English, and Spanish cider apples. Farming practices emphasize biodiversity, cover cropping, composting, soil health, and long-term stewardship. Before distillation ever begins, decisions about grape varieties, apple selections, harvest dates, and fermentation shape the final spirit.

The same thinking extends to aging. Rather than relying heavily on new American oak or bourbon barrels, Klocke uses French oak and neutral barrels intended to support the fruit rather than dominate it. But for Frishkopf, the larger point isn’t the barrel itself but what comes before it. “Terroir sets the direction, and craftsmanship is how we honor it without getting in its way,” he explains.

The Hudson Valley’s climate and agricultural history make it particularly well suited to brandy production, where high-acid fruit is prized. By focusing on regenerative farming and site-specific agriculture, Klocke hopes to create a spirit that reflects its place of origin rather than a category benchmark.

Frishkopf compares the distinction to wine. “Bourbon is the Robert Parker Napa Cabernet of the spirits world — powerful, extracted, built for immediate impact,” he says. “There’s real artistry in that. But brandy is Burgundy. Or a fine Oregon Pinot. It’s about nuance, about what the land gave you in a specific year, about something that reveals itself slowly and rewards attention.”

Visitors can already taste that philosophy in Klocke’s current releases. The estate’s inaugural 00 Apple Brandy is an unoaked expression designed to showcase the freshness and aromatics of Hudson Valley fruit, while Referent, its flagship, aged apple brandy, represents the culmination of the estate’s extended vision. Crafted from 22 heritage apple varieties, double-distilled on a traditional Alembic Charentais still, and matured in French Limousin oak, Referent opens with aromas of baked apple, wildflower honey, and toasted oak before unfolding into orchard fruit, vanilla, and spice. Alongside its brandies, Klocke also produces Brevis vermouths, bottled cocktails, and limited-edition eaux de vie that further express the region’s agricultural bounty.

Credit: Klocke Estate

The Future of American Brandy

Frishkopf isn’t necessarily trying to build a household name. Instead, he points to revered producers like Laberdolive in Armagnac and Camut in Calvados — bottles that rarely appear in mainstream conversations but are quietly prized by sommeliers and collectors.

­“I would like us to be the bottle a serious sommelier in New York or San Francisco already has on the back bar,” he says. “The one that signals the rest of the list was chosen with real care.”

It’s a long-term vision, one built less on agriculture and patience. Rather than chasing whiskey drinkers or attempting to replicate European traditions, Klocke is betting that American consumers are increasingly interested in provenance, place, and craftsmanship. That belief is woven into every aspect of the estate.

After all, America never lacked fruit. It never lacked farmers, vineyards, distillers, or drinkers. What it lacked was a clear vision of what American brandy could be. Klocke Estate is betting that vision starts not in the barrel, but in the orchard.

The article Can This Hudson Valley Farm Make Americans Care About Brandy? appeared first on VinePair.