Far North Spirits Hazlet
Single Varietal Bonded American Rye | 50% ABV
Score: 8/10
Something special.
TL;DR
A meditation-worthy Rye, more reminiscent of Finland than the USA
This review is brought to you by Serendipity.
As you may learn from my bio, I am not a native English speaker, even if my subconscious sometimes tells me otherwise. I did not learn English, or later German, for the pure satisfaction of acquiring a new skill. Instead, life events, mainly driven by work, family, and love, added those two languages to my memory banks.
When you learn a second (or third, etc.) language, there is a magical moment when your proficiency reaches a level where speaking becomes almost effortless. However, this is not enough to take the uniqueness of that language for granted. I still struggle with my native Italian at times, so ‘effortless’ is relative.
At some point in the learning curve, there has been a magic moment when I learned to appreciate those unique, quirky, untranslatable words every language has. And what makes these words special for me is the cultural subtext that comes with them.
German has a treasure trove of such words. But it is the English word serendipity that takes the crown for me. It is a word steeped in modest optimism and, unsurprisingly, was invented by a Brit, Horace Walpole, in 1754. As a foreigner who lived in the UK for over a decade, the quiet appreciation of small things turning for the best is one of the character traits that I saw on display from colleagues and friends during my years in Albion.
It is also dear to my heart because it resonates with my personal belief that entropy plays a much bigger role in our lives than we care to admit. When serendipity works its magic, it can even result in a Dramface review—a review sparked by a chance combination of work, insomnia, and trusted advice.
It all started with a business trip. One I wasn’t particularly keen to be on. My work brings me to the US once or twice a year. My last trip of 2024 was to the northern part of the so-called flyover states. I have nothing against that part of the US, quite the contrary, but for an Italian used to a milder climate, it’s not exactly the place I would put on my list of top destinations in winter. On the plus side, it offers plenty of whisky, or rather whiskey, shopping opportunities.
I have long given up shopping for travel retail on my trips—not to the point of keeping me from heading to the Duty-Free shop every time I have a layover. But 90% of the time, I leave shaking my head at the prices and disappointed by the choices. So, instead, I always carry a few inflatable bottle bags, just in case I can sneak off to do some whisky shopping after work. And, on a side note, whoever invented those bags deserves a special award for services to the whisky community, wouldn’t you agree?
Single Malt is what I’m passionate about and what I usually look for when I travel. Things change when I cross the Atlantic. When I am in the US, I head straight to the Bourbon and, increasingly more, Rye shelves. It’s the only way to try some of the whiskies I keep seeing on the American side of WhiskyTube, which are often impossible to find here in Europe.
I sympathise when I hear fellow whisky mates on the other side of the pond complaining about the availability of certain single malts outside of the UK and Europe. I get it, and I feel for you. And the sanctions currently being bounced around are unlikely to make things any simpler. But please spare a thought for those of us who enjoy Bourbon and, even worse, Rye and live over here in the “Old World”.
Even widely available staples, like Old Forrester’s core range, just to name one, hit our shores seldom and irregularly. No wonder Rare Breed keeps winning at the OSWAs. I bear no ill to Wild Turkey’s popular Bourbon, but the competition isn’t exactly putting up a huge fight.
So, inevitably, when I get to a liquor store in the US, I feel like a kid in the proverbial candy shop. It’s not so much a decision about what to take home rather than what to leave on the shelf. FOMO strikes hard on those occasions. To make my life easier, I travel with a regularly updated wish list. But sometimes this serendipity throws my plans out of the window. And I am glad it does.
On that last trip of 2024, a jetlag-fueled WhiskyTube spree in the ungodly hours before dawn tickled my whisky curiosity. By pure chance or by the magic of YouTube’s algorithm, the top suggestion on my feed was a review of Far North Spirit Musketeer Single Varietal Rye. I had never heard of Far North Spirits before and I love discovering new stuff. I was intrigued.
Add that the video was by someone well-known around these parts and whose advice I have come to trust: Daniel Whittington. What I heard in that review ticked all my whisky botherer boxes. Complex tasting notes? Check. Integrity? Check - no chill filtration or E150 added. Transparency? Check again. Forget about ambling among liquor store shelves, deciding what to buy. I now had a whisky target for the trip.
Two days and three liquor store trips later, I found a shop which carried the Far North Spirits range. I narrowly missed grabbing the Musketeer I was looking for. The last bottle in the store had been sold earlier that day. I made up for it by picking up another bottle from their Single Varietal Range, the Hazlet Bottled in Bond. And, maybe, it was serendipity, once again, giving me a nudge in the right direction.
Review
Far North Spirits Hazlet, Single Varietal Bonded Rye, Harvested 8/2019, distilled 4/2020, bottled 4,2024, 50% ABV
US$59.99 paid
Besides what I learned from YouTube, I knew very little about Far North Spirits. Due to its size and distribution, I suspect the same might be said for many of us. Their products are distributed in only fifteen US states and their output, while not publicly declared, puts them in the category of small-scale distilleries. So, it is only polite for me to provide some background.
The distillery, founded in 2013, is based in northern Minnesota, just 25 miles from the Canadian border, which makes it—according to them and to the best of my knowledge—the northernmost US distillery in the lower forty-eight states. They follow a “grain-to-glass” philosophy: all the grains used, except for the malted barley, are grown on the estate. Rye, in particular, is a big focus.
I was pleasantly surprised by the level of transparency provided to consumers both on the bottle and on their website, even if it’s slightly hidden under the “tools for the trade” section. It may not be at the hyper-detailed level Ardnamurchan’s QR codes have us used to, but everything I care about as a whisky geek is there, from grain to bottle. From the information on the crop (yield, planting, harvest, and distillation date) on the neck of the bottle, to the production details, available in the sales sheet on the website, everything I was looking for was shared. It is always refreshing to find a new distillery that “gets it”.
I wouldn’t be surprised if reading the paragraphs above makes you think about Waterford. I certainly see a lot of similarities. But while the grain-to-glass philosophy might link the two, there are significant differences between the two distilleries release strategies.
One of the largest critiques levied at Waterford has been the lack of a core range, which could serve as a reference point for the distillery’s style. But while Waterford’s lack of core range will forever remain puzzling, my biggest issue, and what ultimately put me personally off Waterford for a significant time, was the continuous (and expensive) flood of cuveés and micro-cuveés.
I always felt that we, as consumers, were being used to fund a research project aimed at identifying the best products to carry forward in the future. Or, in more cynical terms, a game of “throw it to the wall and see what sticks”. I want to believe it was done out of passion for the grain-to-glass approach, but the end effect was simply confusing.
Far North’s special releases are much simpler to understand, focusing on three single-varietal rye whiskies from open-pollinated varieties. In this case, the choice did indeed come out of research conducted by the distillery in cooperation with the University of Minnesota Crookston: a study looking at fifteen rye varieties, their production and distillation yields, and their flavour profiles, both as newmake and aged spirit. And, just to add to the transparency I mentioned earlier, if anyone wants to geek out, the report from the study is freely available here.
The rye varieties have been chosen for their flavour complexity despite their lower yields vs hybrid varieties. It sounds like some other grain I've heard about before on Dramface. I am a complete ignoramus when it comes to grains, but I do sometimes wonder if we’ll start to see more focus on specific varieties of barley, rye, etc. in the future as a way for distilleries to differentiate themselves in an ever-more competitive market.
The single varietal Hazlet bonded Rye I am about to review uses a mash bill of 100% rye, 95% unmalted, and 5% custom malted locally. After 4-5 days of open-top fermentation, the wash is double-distilled in hybrid pot stills to a final newmake at 150-proof, 75% ABV. After aging for 4 years in 53-gallon (200-litre) oak barrels produced locally, the whisky is bottled without chill filtration or added colour.
Score: 8/10
Something special.
TL;DR
A meditation-worthy Rye, more reminiscent of Finland than the USA
Nose
A strong, oaky character is immediately noticeable, together with a slightly funky oil varnish note. It needs a little time to open up. When it does, it reveals a beautifully complex aroma and I’m immediately taken to a romanticised version of my childhood’s default breakfast of bread, butter, and jam: crusty country bread smothered with creamy butter and apricot and Mirabelle plum compote. The rye spiciness is different from many of the ryes in my collection. The usual sweet baking spices, with a marked clove note, are enriched by an extra dimension. There is a rich natural note of vanilla, which is supposed to be typical of the Hazlet grain variety, and then an exotic twist with a slight hint of Indian spices, cumin, and fenugreek. The vegetal notes are very subdued, just a whiff of fennel fronds rather than the punchy dill or mint I often associate with US Rye Whiskey. As it continues to evolve in the glass it gains darker notes: walnut husks, a hint of milk chocolate, and a touch of black cardamom.
Palate
The texture is mouthcoating and smooth. At first, it hits my palate with a very dry sensation, oak aromas (but no noticeable tannin), and baking spice notes, with noticeable vanilla here. There is just a little bit of alcohol heat, which does not detract from the experience but makes me wonder what another two or three years of ageing could do. The second wave of flavours are bready and fruity. I taste sourdough bread starter, unripe apricots, and dried peaches, and a touch of raw cane syrup - with its sweet, slightly caramelised taste and very light aniseed note. Adding just a few drops of water amplifies the sweet, bready, and fruity flavour notes, reducing the oaky backbone. It makes it an easier sipper, but maybe a less captivating one.
The finish is medium in length. I get clean rye grain notes like German pumpernickel bread, apricot schnapps, caramel, a hint of mocha, and baking spices. The aftertaste is fruity and spicy with just a touch of refreshing citrus acidity.
The Dregs
I have a confession to make. My first impression was frankly not great. I got loads of young spirit-driven notes, especially wood varnish. From the neck pour. I am not sure if the bottle shock from the plane travel was in part to blame, but be as it may, I was almost considering this as an unlucky gamble.
Luckily, on the night I cracked the bottle open I was busy with dinner prep, so I left my glass on my desk and went about my business. When I got back to it an hour or so later, it had transformed into the rich and complex dram I just reviewed. I will never doubt the neck pour effect again. Serendipity once more?
I am not letting that initial impression shape my judgment. It was hard enough to decide what to score this even without that initial experience in mind. It took me ages. In part, I blame the Dramface Podcast. Specifically those very thought-stimulating Colonials in their third episode. The whole discussion on scoring got me thinking. How should I score a category of whisky, which I love even more than malts, but am still learning about? I kept going back to the idea of beer tasting panels and style categories. Should I frame the vote for this Far North Hazlet against the backdrop of its US Rye peers? I decided to put that idea through the wringer.
I compared this Hazlet to a small blind panel of Pikeville, Sagamore, and New Riff Ryes. The Far North was a complete outlier. Compared to the others, the lack of vegetal notes was immediately evident, as was the presence of the oil varnish funk. At the same time, the fruit notes were amped up and riper, almost overripe, the spice notes sweeter, thanks to that rich vanilla, and the grain notes were closer to a crusty pain de campagne than a rye sourdough. But more than anything, Far North Spirits Hazlet was like a rumbling base-heavy song among a playlist of bright treble-rich tunes. If I hadn’t known what the four samples were, you could have fooled me into thinking this was not a Rye Whiskey at all.
I eventually found another bottle, which at least resembled the style of this Hazlet Bottled in Bond. I just had to (virtually) travel a lot further than I thought: just over 6500 km away (or just over 4000 miles, for the ones still holding to outdated systems of measurement). A quick jump to Kyrö Distillery in Finland.
It is somewhat puzzling, considering Kyrö uses malted rye while Far North Spirits is 95% unmalted rye, but the similarity remains. And yet, even compared to Kyrö, the difference was remarkable. The Hazlet had an extra dimension of complexity and ripeness,. As much as I tried, framing the score relative to something else was not working for me.
So I did the only sensible thing. Sod my overthinking analytical personality for once. I went with my gut. And my gut told me that I had found something special.
If I crave a rye to keep me company for a few hours of meditative whisky enjoyment, this is the bottle I reach for above all the ones on my shelves. I can nurse a good measure of this whiskey for a whole night, knowing I will spend the next one or two hours discovering new nuances in the glass without the liquid falling flat.
The only other rye in my collection which can stand up to that is more than double the age of the Far North Spirits Bonded Hazlet and was purchased for three times the price. And if that is not a serendipitous “Something Special” score, I don’t know what is.
Score: 8/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. HC
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