Perhaps it shouldn't be surprising that only about 9% of Canadian whisky produced is consumed within Canada. As with Scotland and Ireland, the vast majority of what we make goes abroad and in our case, mainly to the US. The majority of our exported whisky, by far, is value-oriented, light, 'bottom shelf' stuff and interestingly, much of it leaves the country by tanker train rather than in a bottle. A trip to an American liquor store often exposes Canadians to brands of Canadian whisky they've never heard of, but that are absolutely massive in sales volume; Windsor, Ensign Red, Canadian Mist, and Ellington are just some examples. And then there's Fireball cinnamon-flavoured whisky, which has risen to become the most popular drink in almost every state. To satisfy the exploding demand for that drink, industrial-scale stills in Quebec churn out as much basic whisky as physically possible, to be loaded onto trains and sent to the US in bulk.
Many of the large distilleries employ the tanker train method to get product to their largest market. Once their whiskies hit three years of age, some of Canada's best known brands ship off millions of litres by rail for bottling in Kentucky, Illinois, Connecticut, and elsewhere. Black Velvet is perhaps the best example of this phenomenon.
Although the brand can be found in Canada, Europe, and elsewhere, it's relatively unknown here. But in the States it's a phenomenon, and has been for decades. Over ten million litres are exported to two American bottling facilities annually! In fact, it's the second largest Canadian whisky brand there after Crown Royal. It's ubiquitous, to say the least, and is extremely valuable in spite of its limited recognition in its own country.
Black Velvet's origins go back to the 1940s where it was produced at Quebec's Valleyfield Distillery (which today produces such whiskies as Seagram's VO Gold and Gibson's Finest Bold). It became known for its smoothness and for its popularity in the American Navy during World War Two. Production eventually moved to Lethbridge, Alberta and the Palliser Distillery.
As the popular whisky brand took over production at Palliser, the distillery was renamed Black Velvet Distillery and became managed by Constellation Brands, a big name in wine. But as tastes in whisky changed dramatically in recent decades, Black Velvet had been somewhat slow to evolve, not unlike its major Canadian peers. So in late 2019, Black Velvet was purchased by Bourbon conglomerate Heaven Hill. This continues a trend of large American and Scottish distillers acquiring legacy Canadian brands and injecting needed marketing energy to revitalise them. Falling sales at the big value-oriented Canadian distilleries prove this wake up call is sorely needed.
In terms of the whisky itself, Black Velvet's aging strategy is unique. Whereas Canadian blends traditionally age each grain distillate separately before blending at the end, Black Velvet blends their new, light corn distillate right off the still into bolder two year old rye. The combined barrels then age for another three years (to bring the corn to the legal minimum age), allowing the rye component to reach five years in oak. This is a novel take on the Canadian blending tradition of light base whisky with bolder flavouring rye.
The result is a light, simple whisky for blending or easy sipping, presented in a nicely weighty, ergonomic bottle that feels nice in the hand. It remains extremely popular (and insanely cheap) in the States but it will be interesting to see what changes, if any, Heaven Hill will make with this legacy brand. For now, it's the perfect whisky for mixing warm-weather drinks on either side of the border.
Black Velvet Imported (US bottling)
40% alc./vol.
USD$9 at LBK Liquors in Florida
(C$12.25 at time of writing)
Once Canadian readers catch their breaths after seeing how cheap alcohol is in the States, the nose is very much that of sweet corn whisky but pleasantly so. Honey is driving the profile alongside a sugar cereal-like graininess. There is an earthy, soily component with dark stone fruit and even nuttiness. This is a surprisingly complex nose.
The palate is quite a bit simpler, tending toward 'smooth' and 'light,' which were the magic words in whisky for a century, and still are for the silent majority of whisky consumers. There's lots more honey and some red apple acidity. Lots of sweet corn, almost vodka-esque, keeps this whisky light as air. Butterscotch is met by a tepid rye spice that is more overshadowed by the young ethanol heat. Bitter grapefruit builds along with some more butterscotch and nutmeg late. The whole thing is extremely simple; I had to strain to pick out complexities beyond the corn sweetness.
The finish is short and oaky with bitter citrus, but nothing lingers particularly long at all.
Well, it's extremely simple whisky; straightforward light corn with just a touch of the rye, all floating in a candy floss cloud. It's not a dram for brooding with by the fire on a storm-lashed coast; it's a friendly mixer or an easy-as sipper, and not at all unpleasant. It's free of the off notes you can find in cheap whisky; no doubt they've been worked out after so many decades. This whisky has reached the popularity it has by being light, approachable, and fundamentally sound.
And let's not forget something here; even by American standards, a bottle of this whisky is super cheap, and its fine; simple, but unflawed. If Canadians had access to Black Velvet for a tenner, we'd be lacing everything we drank with it, mixing it into sauces, feeding it to the dog...
So lets not pretend this is some kind of premium dram for nosing in a Glencairn. America, please continue enjoying this stuff however you like, so long as it's without pretension.
Heatseeker Score: 79
Category Score: 91
Characteristic: Light
