Bourbon and the Rose

I've been to Louisville, Kentucky twice for work. (Attending the GAMA Expo, since it moved there in 2024.) But in the way of work trips, all I got to see was a limited number of things within walking distance of the hotel and convention center. And with all the bourbon (and a few non-bourbon) activities in the surrounding area, is seemed like it might be a destination worth an extended weekend without work. So that's what my husband and I just did for the past four days.

We flew in on Thursday afternoon, rented a Honda Civic Sport... and I briefly wondered why I found those chords it played when you started the car to be so familiar. I put it out of my mind as headed out, checked in at our hotel, and made the most of the remaining day.

I've talked before about the large, canvas craft brewery map we have at home, where we stick pins marking all the places whose beers we've tried over the years. Gold pins mark the places we've been to in person, and my husband and I always look for an opportunity to add one to a new state. We decided to take care of Kentucky right away with a stop at the Bluegrass Brewing Company. Unlike the beer purists in Connecticut (who were shocked when I suggested that two of their beers together might taste great), this place had a blend right on their menu: "Schmeade," a combination of a wheat beer and a fruit beer influenced by the taste of raspberry mead. And it was quite good!

Now -- pausing for a moment to give some background: there's a place in the Denver area that hosts "Whiskey Wednesday" events all summer long, focused on different brands. When we attended one a few months back centered on one of my personal favorites, Bardstown, they revealed that they were now partnered with Green River, and so we got to try one of their offerings as well. Now, on the drive into Louisville, we saw a billboard proclaiming that a new Green River tasting room had opened on Whiskey Row. So with a little time to fill before a scheduled event, we went there and got to sample more of their bourbon and rye. (They don't supplant Bardstown for me, but they're a worthy partner.)

Unfortunately, this was the point where an unplanned activity interrupted the fun: a torrential summer afternoon downpour. I mean downpour. Thankfully, we weren't completely unprepared, having brought rain jackets with us. But we had a place to be at a specific time, and no choice but to go walking out in the weather. The jackets worked, but our shorts, socks, and shoes were utterly waterlogged, causing us to make a quick stop at the hotel to swap out for pants before moving along (still in the rain).

Next up was something we'd bought tickets for ahead of time: a "fill your own bottle" event at Angel's Envy. (Another personal favorite of mine.) You got to taste their standard bourbon (which I know quite well), alongside an ultra-limited single barrel that was exactly what you were about to bottle. You walk up to the counter, apply your own labels, stick the bottle under the machine, fill it, then use a clamp to get the cap on good and tight. (And then, due to some bizarre local liquor law, an employee has to literally take your bottle through the doorway to the next room to hand back to you.) I had imagined that perhaps you'd get to sample a few small batches to pick your personal favorite, so in that sense, this experience didn't quite live up to the imagined hype. Still, I liked the sample taste well enough, and now I have a "bottled by me" Angel's Envy in my cabinet for special occasions.

Everyone was quick and efficient with their bottling. (Even the poor woman from Down Under who was clearly being dragged along to a ton of bourbon activities despite her overwhelming dislike of the stuff. Those friends clearly wanted an extra bottle of single barrel for themselves here.) Because we finished up early, our host took us back to the distilling area to see where most of the magic happens. (Not all; the aging happens in large rickhouses outside of town.)

We had dinner at Merle's Whiskey Kitchen, where we enjoyed some Kentucky fried chicken (no caps on the "fried chicken"). But with the rain a clear deterrent and all the distillery tasting rooms closing early for the evening (our guide at Angel's Envy had called Louisville "the city that sleeps"), we decided we weren't walking anywhere else that evening. So instead, we went for a bonus gold pin on the beer map. We drove north across the river to Indiana and got a gold pin in that state for Floyd County Brewing Company -- a place with less memorable offerings. (But a gold pin is a gold pin.)

And on that journey, with a few more times starting the rental car, I finally clocked what it was about its slow, pulsing chords that sounded familiar. It's 100% the opening of Bette Midler's song, "The Rose." You might not recognize the song by name, but if you've ever seen Napoleon Dynamite, you absolutely know the song. And now you know exactly what it sounds like to start a Honda Civic Sport; the chords finally cut out just a moment before "some say looooooove......"

Considering that we'd only arrived mid-afternoon, we'd fit in a ton of stuff on our first day of the trip. But there was so much more in the days ahead.