Historically, Bridgette Taylor never was much of a vodka drinker.
Like many who develop a taste for craft spirits, Taylor gravitated toward those with robust flavor, usually a fine bourbon or tequila. So, when she decided to launch Harridan Vodka in 2020, the 33-year-old aimed to create a spirit with complexity and character worthy of sipping neat.
Taylor decided to use corn grown locally in her home state of New York for the mash bill, and she partnered with a whiskey maker to bring her vision to life. Harridan Vodka is distilled twice to 88 proof and barely filtered, Taylor says, allowing the sweetness of the base ingredient to shine.
“Really, who we’re going after is the people who didn’t think they liked vodka because they are only thinking of the neutral, odorless, flavorless vodka that traumatized a lot of people in college,” Taylor says. “Reading how it’s made and what its proof is, you can understand whiskey was our inspiration.”
Relaxing the Rules
Vodka has long been something of a utilitarian spirit—a neutral ethanol canvas made for mixing with soda and briny olives. Part of that was dictated by U.S. law, which defined vodka as “without distinctive character, aroma, taste, or color.” In 2020, however, regulators changed that definition, effectively welcoming creativity into what some believe was an otherwise stifled category.
Distillers can now innovate and celebrate their own unique takes on the spirit. Yet getting drinkers to embrace such an evolution could be a challenge because most are either already brand-loyal or turned off entirely. If the message resonates, though, experts believe vodka could be poised for a craft moment akin to whiskey and agave spirits.
“It felt like, in the past, vodka creators were trapped in that you could only make a vodka that tastes marginally different from the next vodka,” Taylor says. “That seemed to limit innovation. With the TTB regulations changing, people now can come up with special recipes and special techniques that have a difference that consumers can taste.”
The Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau began soliciting public input on the definition of vodka in 2018 when, in trying to modernize federal regulations, it proposed numerous changes to alcohol-labeling requirements.
The law mandated that neutral spirits must be distilled to at least 190 proof and bottled at no less than 80 proof, or 40 percent ABV. However, the TTB wondered “whether the requirement that vodka be without distinctive character, aroma, taste, or color should be retained and, if this requirement is no longer appropriate, what the appropriate standards should be for distinguishing vodka from other neutral spirits.”
The agency received a dozen comments on the subject, the majority of which argued that the definition was no longer suitable. Lance Winters, master distiller at St. George Spirits in Alameda, California, was one of those people. His letter called the current definition “disingenuous and not truthful in the marketplace.”
Winters, who has been a distiller for 28 years, says he jumped at the opportunity to share his perspective in hopes it would help push the industry forward. “There are a lot of regulations we have complained about internally, and when the opportunity came up to be able to complain about those regulations to the people who would potentially change them, it was a dream come true,” he says.
Sipping Vodkas
Elias Barber and others didn’t even know about the change until contacted by Craft Spirits & Distilling. Barber, a sixth-generation farmer in Middleburgh, New York, began distilling in 2014 as a way to use his family’s excess potato harvest. With 1857 Spirits, his mission was to create a “vodka that was actually enjoyable to sip on.”
Barber says 1857’s vodka was always going to be distinct because potatoes intrinsically contribute mouthfeel, viscosity, and body to the liquor. “Nothing is flavorless, tasteless, or odorless,” he says. “I always thought that was silly.”
Likewise, Winters says the existence of the previous rules didn’t stop him from breaking them. St. George makes two vodkas using fruits with distinct character, including pears and oranges. The company’s Green Chile Vodka starts with a neutral corn base that’s then infused with fresh jalapeños, red and yellow bell peppers, habanero peppers, lime juice, and fresh cilantro. It makes a mean gimlet or mule, he says.
“Even though the federal designation said that vodka had to be odorless and flavorless, that’s subjective,” Winters says. “We just decided we would ignore that part of the law. It’s not really an enforceable regulation.”
Nicholas Lefebre of Ethanology Distillation in Elk Rapids, Michigan, agrees. Since opening the distillery in 2017, he and his wife, head distiller Geri Lefebre, make sure to legally proof their vodka. However, they’ve always disregarded the mandate that it must be neutral.
The company’s twice-distilled Siligo Vodka is made from Michigan-grown red winter wheat, which lends a full-bodied mouthfeel and a unique terroir to the spirit. Ethanology focuses on supporting local farmers; the vodka and other products enable the Lefebres to not only tell a brand story, but also wow unsuspecting customers in the process.
“It turned me and numerous other people into vodka drinkers,” Nicholas says. “It’s a point of conversation. People say, ‘I didn’t know vodka could be this good or it could have these really elevated characteristics.’”
Flavor That’s Worth the Price
While certainly important, taste is just one factor that will win over customers in this category. The story matters, too.
Sam Nelis at Caledonia Spirits in Montpelier, Vermont, stresses the importance of consumer education—when people visit the distillery, as well as when they belly up to their favorite bar.
Nelis spent many years as a bartender, and he saw firsthand that vodka sells even if it’s not the most exciting spirit to work with. He says that Caledonia’s Barr Hill Vodka, distilled from raw honey, would excite mixologists even if it wasn’t designed for sipping on its own. Potentially, bartenders can pass on that enthusiasm to customers.
“Better ingredients make for better cocktails,” Nelis says. He often hears people ask, “Why are we drinking something that has no flavor?”
When it comes to educating consumers, there’s also an economic angle to tackle. The price often reflects the fact that many distilleries invest in locally grown base ingredients. A 750 ml bottle of Harridan Vodka, for example, typically retails for $55 to $65. Ethanology’s Siligo Vodka, in the same size, costs $40. Caledonia sells its Barr Hill Vodka for about $60. (And the raw honey that goes into it costs $17 per pound.)
Meanwhile, a 1.75-liter handle of Tito’s usually goes for less than $30 at Total Wine.
Because craft distillers can’t compete on price, they need to convince buyers it’s worth the price tag—and that can be a tough task. “Vodka drinkers, culturally, they’re not really looking to try something new,” Nelis says.
Toward an Evolution
Broadly, these distillers all agree that vodka is on the cusp of a craft moment and that it has the potential to cultivate a base of connoisseurs. But they also agree that it’s not there yet.
At Harridan Vodka, Taylor says she hopes the TTB’s change will inspire others to join her in reinventing the spirit’s image. Instead of having one catch-all vodka, she envisions a future in which every home bar includes multiple bottles for different uses—one for mules, one for martinis, and one for sipping neat.
“When you compare that to whiskey, it’s the same dynamic—the whiskey you would use in a mint julep may be different from the whiskey you use in an old fashioned and different from the whiskey you sip neat,” Taylor says. “It’s really good for competition and also really good to broaden consumers’ viewpoints. Vodka is worthy of the attention and having more than one brand that you appreciate.”