Distill Life
Woodstone Creek wins the battle against Prohibition.
By Matt Bergantino
Illustration by Rhonda Mulder
For more than a decade, a mustachioed United States Department of
Treasury customer service representative named Don Outterson has been brewing
award-winning adult beverages from his “laboratory”—a 1930s stamping factory on
Newton Avenue near Xavier University that he converted into
a winery and microdistillery. Tastemakers such as Jim Murray (author of The
Whisky Bible) and the American Distilling Institute have lavished Outterson’s
creations with every major award and recognition. But don’t take their word for
it. Every Saturday from 1 p.m. to 5 p.m., Outterson and his wife, Linda, invite the public
to sample the fruits of their labors, including a full range of Ohio grape varietals and
honeywine (also known as mead to all you medieval freaks out there) made from
local honey. And now, thanks to a hard-fought revision to Ohio’s antediluvian liquor
laws, customers can buy (although not sample) Woodstone’s prestigious
small-batch vodka and bourbon right there on the spot.
The Outtersons hope this new outlet will open the door for artisanal
distillers to attract tourists and compete with state liquor stores. It’s an
uphill battle, but one that suits Outterson, who prefers the role of underdog.
Perhaps that’s because, as far as he’s concerned, Davids make better drinks
than Goliaths. “The bean counters with money to buy big factories look for
shortcuts, but I do it the old-fashioned way,” he says.
Quality and pride rather than profit is what motivates Outterson to
devote around 15 hours a week to his craft, and that’s why Woodstone will
remain a regional distiller, with no plans to grow. In the next two years, as
Woodstone’s barrels reach the 10 year mark, Outterson will release new
distillates, including gin, rum, single malt whisky, brandy, honey liqueur, and
a bierschnapps made from Barrelhouse Red Legg Ale. With the care and delicate
attention of an artist, Outterson hopes to revive the whiskey tradition that
thrived in 19th century Cincinnati, an era when the Queen City’s 33 distilleries
pumped out 1,100 barrels a week. We may never reach that output again, of
course, but if Outterson has his way, we will return to that whiskey-soaked
moment in time when distillers were artists and drinkers were connoisseurs.
Originally published in the January 2009 issue.