Kentucky Bourbon Trail: Location 1 - In and Around Bardstown

I suspect everyone close to me was getting tired of hearing it: I am going on the Kentucky Bourbon Trail! Well, I am back from Kentucky! Having concluded two stays, one in Bardstown and the other in Louisville, I feel like I had a very satisfying and balanced trip. This cigar blog will look at my bourbon tasting and cigar smoking in two parts, based on two locations: Bardstown and its "outer bourbon region," and Louisville. 

Milwaukee Departure, Maker's Mark, and Bardstown:

I left Sunday morning by about 6:45 am and cruised through Wisconsin, Illinois, and Indiana without incident. I snacked in the car and stopped twice to use the rest room and get gas. The plan was to drive directly to a tour at the Maker's Mark Distillery, and then after that to check into my hotel in Bardstown. On the way to Maker's, I drove through Bardstown and proceeded about thirty minutes south/southeast of Bardstown, in the vicinity of Laretto, Kentucky. The Maker's Mark Distillery was literally in the middle of nowhere, only accessible via narrow and winding roads without shoulders. These roads would pass for bicycle paths in the Milwaukee area, but they had posted speed limits from 35 to 55 mph. I was not used to driving like that. When I got to the distillery, I was still surprised how small it was, despite the fact that my mind should have been primed by the remote area.

The tour was interesting. Much of the work was still done by hand, from dipping the trademark red wax seals to handcranking the printing press for making the labels. The tasting at the end was very good, as I sampled four types of whiskey, and finally purchased two bottles. I will say more about all the whiskey I bought on this trip in later posts: I was surrounded by so much bourbon, so if I was gonna get the chance to smoke a stick in Kentucky, I was gonna pair it with other bourbons that I could find there. I will pair the whiskey I bought with cigars back home and share out later.

Maker's Mark Distillery

After Maker's Mark, I returned to Bardstown and checked into the Talbott Inn and Gift Shop. This hotel got its start as an inn in 1779 and has a restaurant, tavern, and gift shop attached to it. Sunday is a quiet place for Bardstown as most businesses, including all the other restaurants, were closed. Talbott's restaurant was the only one open, so naturally it was packed with tourists and locals alike. I waited patiently and ate a Kentucky combination plate: three sliders - one was fried green tomato, another pulled pork, and the third was ham and swiss cheese. Very tasty.

 Otherwise, there was only one liquor store in town that sold good cigars, and it was also closed on Sundays; so I prevailed upon a cigar I brought from home, a My Father Flora de las Antillas Toro. I snuck outside a side door facing the eastern sky and a waxing moon. I had already had plenty of bourbon at Maker's Mark so I just sipped on water as I enjoyed the mild, creamy flavor of this My Father. The Talbott is on a main street in Bardstown, and this eastern side door opened up around the corner at the beginning of a residential area. I don't like to be that annoying cigar smoker who disturbs people who prefer a smoke-free space, but the door was far enough away from the neighborhood homes, and there was no traffic in and out of this side door.

Enjoying a My Father outside the Talbott Inn, Bardstown, KY

Then I thought I was busted! An older couple rounded the corner, and the woman said to me, loudly, "That's you!" Her neck craned and nose sniffed the air.

I sprung up from the stoop to move away, waving away my cigar smoke. "I am so sorry," I said.

"No, no," she said. "If it is pipe or cigar smoke, I love it."

"That's a My Father," said the husband. "Did you get that in town, here?"

"No," I said with a sigh of relief. "I brought it from home."

They were from Delaware, and after brief small talk about the closed liquor store, both he and I expressed the intent to check out the store's humidor before leaving town. They excused themselves, and then I finished the My Father and turned in for the first night.

Woodford, Louisville, and back to Bardstown

On  Monday, Day 2, I awoke bright and early. I exercised and ate breakfast at the inn. Then I drove an hour west-northwest to Versailles, Kentucky. The roads were narrow with high speed limits, but the Woodford Reserve Distillery was located in the middle of Kentucky ranch country. The roads were only a little bit wider than the ones leading to Maker's Mark. The scenery was filled with lush pastures populated by beautiful horses that were grazing, walking and trotting.

Although Woodford Reserve was founded in the 1990s, the distillery is on a site that had been in the distilling business since the early 1800s. Many of the facilities are new, but some of the old buildings from the 1800s were still in use. Therefore, the site was very beautiful and historically rustic. The operation here was again smaller than I expected. (By contrast, Jim Beam, which I did not tour, but drove by, looked like a small city). The Woodford tasting was also delicious at the end, and I bought one bottle. Again I will write more about these purchases in later posts! 

A Cohiba Weller with Elkwood Reserve Bourbon; Volstead Lounge in Bardstown

Later on Day 2, I went to Louisville for a while, ate a late lunch, found a cigar bar, and toured another distillery, but those will be featured in the next post about Louisville. Later when I finished in Louisville on Day 2, I returned to the Talbott Inn in Bardstown. I took a break and then walked over to the liquor store which had an impressive humidor. I bought a Cohiba Weller, a little pricier, but I was in bourbon country, and this cigar's tobacco was aged in bourbon barrels. Then I went to the Volstead Bourbon Lounge, a tavern with an intentionally cramped and covert feel, like a speakeasy. They also had seats outside on their storefront, so I ordered a Bluegrass Elkwood Eleven Year Reserve to pair with my Cohiba. Now I know many of you are wondering if I asked the bartender if they had Weller Bourbon, which would have made sense. I didn't! When my eyes caught that Elkwood 11, I jumped at it!

I sat out front, and lit up the cigar. It's initial lighting bite was spicy; I could definitely taste the hint of spice and liquor on it from the bourbon barrel aging process. And then when paired with the Elkwood, it gave me fine buzz that carried me from the Kentucky twilight, through dusk, and well into the dark night. It is a robusto size, if I remember right, and it smoked for a good 80-90 minutes. I walked back to my hotel and ate some sandwiches I brought along from Wisconsin. It was 10pm by this time and all the dining in Bardstown was already closed. 

Cohiba Weller - hints of bourbon and spice.

That was my trip to Kentucky, summarized for the Bardstown region. Coming soon - the Louisville experience!

Cigar of the Day salvaged on a Snow Day

 I smoked a lot of decent cigars this week, but as a teacher and cigar connoisseur, nothing beats a snow day. Well, only if you smoke a stick during what would normally be the regular school day. I have had snow days when it was just too nasty to smoke one on the porch, and the roads were too hazardous to drive to a cigar lounge (if they were even open).

Well, the nasty weather started this past Sunday, but preceding the snow storm was the rain. The day was cold and windy, with sideways rain at about 37 degF. I did go out on my porch like a fool and smoked a Rocky Patel, The Edge Maduro, and it was adventurous to say the least. I will confess it was entirely out of vanity and for attention, because I posted it in my various social media groups and threads. The internet indulged me, calling me "boss lady," and "hardcore," and even "Supergirl," for smoking in those conditions. The Edge Maduro is a regular go-to of mine: woodsy, spicy, and great tasting, even though it was hard to focus on the flavor. I was lucky to persist out there in my cowboy hat, and layers and layers of warm clothing, like back in my track and field coaching career, when I stood outside in that shit while the poor kids competed. Brrr.

Later on, since I am in a bowling league that competes alternate Sunday nights, I went in and bowled. Several teams called in and forfeited because the rain was predicted to switch to nasty snow. Somehow the excitement of it all aroused my performance level, because I bowled well above my average. Then the notice came on my phone in the form of an email blast - no school on Monday due to the weather. Sure enough, it was snowing by the time I was driving home from bowling. Snow Day! For teachers and students this is a happy time. However, I had to contain my joy. The other bowlers were pissed off that there was a winter storm so close to St. Patrick's Day. I stayed out of there way by not dancing to the tune of my snow day, as they complained about Wisconsin weather patterns. They were not in the mood to hear celebrations that I would be off work the next day.

My "pre-snow day smoke" on the porch with Rocky Patel

Monday morning I awoke, started coffee, and shoveled. Then on social media I conformed and fit in by bitching about Wisconsin and how crappy it was "to get all this snow in March," blah, blah, blah...even though I was like a kid, elated to have the day off. I went out and shoveled a second time. It was coming down and it was cold and windy as heck. I was not performing any encore cigar smoking on the porch, that was for sure. So I decided to roll with the weather. I put on snowshoes, hiked through deep snow for two miles, burned a lot of calories, and broke a sweat in the frigid winds. I started to come to terms with the fact that this leisurely snow day was not going to lend itself to enjoying a stick. Oh well, I thought, it was still a blizzard out there.

Actually I own several pairs of snowshoes

And then it happened. I got home from snowshoeing, and the snow stopped, and the sun came out. The plows came through. My son emerged from his bedroom cave, and he shoveled what would be our third and final wave of snow removal. After I got out of the shower and cleaned up, it was 1pm, and the roads looked passable. Online websites incidated that cigar shops were open. So I headed out into the winter wonderland.

I landed at Havana Lounge in West Allis. I had not been there since the summer, and I don't really go there that often. I think it is a great place, but it is just out of my way in terms of where I live and where I travel to work or to visit family. They were open the earliest. The small parking lot was full - so obviously the snow did not stop other connoisseurs either. The plows in West Allis had not hit the side streets nearby so I parked a few blocks away, on the other side of Greenfield Avenue. No problem. I snowshoed. This was not far for me.

March 16th looked like January 16th

The spacious cigar lounge has two rooms and a bar. Several men were there ahead of me enjoying their smokes. A few were working on computers. (I laughed inwardly - wondering if they were "working virtually from home" due to the weather?). The owner was working the bar and humidor. I don't know her name, but she was very friendly and helpful. She remarked about how some of her staff could not make it in due to the snow. I ordered a Makers Mark on the rocks and a 6 X 60 Asylum 13 Ogre, with a barber pole wrapper. It lit up and the initial bite was not as intense or bold as the regular Asylum 13; it had the woodsy flavor of the regular, but also a hint of cream from the green half of the wrapper. It was 2pm by this time - and I was smoking during what would be my normal school day! When I was a kid, I would be sledding and playing in the snow, but as a grown woman I did my adulting by shoveling snow, and got my exercise in by snowshoeing, and got my playtime in by enjoying this Ogre. The greenish strip of the wrapper was also keeping with the green Irish feel of St. Patrick's Day.

Asylum 13 Ogre

I am glad the snow day allowed this time at Havana for me. I will have to head back there again soon, even if I have to drive out of my way. A very memorable snow day to be sure!

Pairing the Ogre with Makers Mark