Heirloom Corn Brings Flavor and History to Whiskey

Just a little ways outside St. Louis on a hot September day, I’m sipping white dog made from a single corn varietal while standing in front of a field of the maize from which it’s been distilled. Most white whiskey gets pigeonholed as moonshine; it’s not exactly known for having an artisanal reputation, much less talked about in terms of “varietal” like wine or mezcal.

Some corn varietals have whimsical names like Bloody Butcher, Jimmy Red, Missouri Shoepeg, and Chapalote, others mysterious code names like WHB-18. Some are heirloom, and others cross-pollinated works in progress. Each has a distinct profile. It leaves me wondering why we don’t make a fuss about corn.

Standing nearby is a charismatic man in a yellow, wooden hat, with an infectious enthusiasm for heritage corn. Farmer and distiller Gary Hinegardner, owner of Wood Hat Spirits, evokes a Monty Python level of nearly fanatical devotion to the subject. “Yellow dent [corn] is raised for pigs and cows, and pigs and cows don’t vote on taste,” says Hinegardner. Yellow dent, a dried field corn, is one of the most important crops grown in the U.S.—most of it destined for livestock feed, corn syrup, fuel ethanol, and a variety of other non-food-related industries. It’s also the main ingredient in most bourbon today, which by law must be made from 51 percent corn (though it’s often much higher). Yellow dent is ubiquitous in American distilling, so much so that it’s barely mentioned in the context of whiskey.

Visit any major Kentucky distiller and they’ll tell you about how great their water is and their commitment to quality control, but you rarely hear about the corn itself, other than perhaps which state it’s grown in or how much of it they use (literally acres per day!). In the corn belt state of Missouri, where many Kentucky bourbon makers source their grain, Hinegardner works with local farmers to grow about 65 acres of heirloom corn and the hybrid varieties bred from them—he was planting crops before Wood Hat even broke ground.

But why go to all that trouble? Wouldn’t this be like bringing a handful of sand to the beach? From the outside it may appear that way, though the truth is, there’s not much heritage corn grown in the U.S. There’s no profit for farmers—and at a time when small farms are struggling, most aren’t looking to take any risks. Yellow dent is also subsidized by the government. It’s a safe bet.

That means distilleries face some limitations for their ingredients. But while the supply chain may be a major reason most American whiskey distilleries use the exact same type of corn for their bourbon, there’s more to it. It’s an overall mindset among many distillers that the type of corn doesn’t matter—at least, not enough to change the status quo.

“Each step, each ingredient, is a chance to coax flavor out,” says Rob Arnold, former master distiller at TX Whiskey and author of The Terroir of Whiskey. According to Arnold, for the last 100 years the whiskey industry has largely ignored the discussion of grain choice because of the overall lack of diversity in today’s crops, creating a “false notion” that variety doesn’t matter.

Prohibition was more than an industry disruptor; it was an extinction-level event for farm distilleries.

It wasn’t always this way. Up until Prohibition, most distillers worked with local farmers and used regional varieties of grain. Prohibition was more than an industry disruptor; it was an extinction-level event for farm distilleries. After Repeal, distillers returned to an unfamiliar landscape, with a commodity grain system in place that decreased the use of local corn.

Selective breeding and industrialization gave us food security, but modern farming also came with unintended consequences: When you breed for yield, you lose some flavor. (Think of the hot house tomatoes or Red Delicious apples at your grocery store—crops bred for attributes such as color, yield, and longevity typically don’t prioritize flavor.) But a shift is happening as farm distilleries begin to return, and as craft distillers seek out direct relationships with farmers. American whiskey producers of all sizes are beginning to experiment with grain, especially corn, even if just on a trial basis.

Some like Balcones in Waco, Texas, were ahead of their time. When their Baby Blue Corn Whisky launched in 2009, it was made from New Mexico–grown Hopi Blue corn, and garnered success and a cult following, but didn’t flip the industry on its ear. It did, however, validate Hinegardner’s decision to plant his own blue corn. “It’s a long game, but that’s kind of the point in whiskey production,” says Gabe RiCharde, director of spirits at Balcones. “We need to divorce ourselves from the notion that the quintessential ingredient can be easily found on the commodity supermarket shelf.” They grow a hybridized blue flint corn in West Texas, one typically used for masa and other culinary uses.

MB Roland in Pembroke, Kentucky, uses a blend of food-grade white corn grown in their county—corn that would otherwise be destined for the dining table. Food grade equals flavor: If it makes tasty grits or cornbread, no doubt it’ll make tasty whiskey, as their beautiful straight corn whiskey proves.

Despite the challenges, more distillers are investing in corn’s future.

These types of corn are much more expensive, and more work to source. Despite the challenges, more distillers are investing in corn’s future. New York’s Widow Jane, whose reputation has largely been built on blending great sourced whiskey, has their own unique variety bred for a bourbon called Baby Jane. This proprietary corn strand is a cross between Bloody Butcher and Wapsie Valley. Charleston, South Carolina’s High Wire Distilling, founded by Ann Marshall and Scott Blackwell, makes their signature bourbon from Jimmy Red heirloom corn, a variety on the brink of extinction only a decade ago.

“For those who are willing to dig, experiment, and be patient, there are amazing ingredients out there, and fruitful relationships to build while you work to transform them into whiskey,” says RiCharde. And for those who may be unsure which direction American whiskey is headed, my guess is a little closer to the farm.