The most recommended books about whisky

Will-Weber extensively researched the drinking habits of every U.S. president from George Washington to Barack Obama to compose this outstanding volume. Mint Juleps is brimming with fascinating facts. Did you know that the Carters, who were Southern Baptists, were much heavier drinkers than the Reagans? (Ronald Reagan, who effectively imposed the twenty-one-year drinking age on all fifty states, was the son of an alcoholic and wary of alcohol abuse). I think that I enjoyed the profile of George Washington the most, who not only plotted American independence over a pint or two but distilled his own applejack brandy as well.

An action-comedy that surpasses their classic Clovenhoof series. Based around an attempt to plan a weekend away so many twists and turns are added that you wonder where the authors get their imagination from. When assassins and werewolves appear you can't help but keep turning the pages.

Booze books need not only to be filed all the way in the back of the bookstore in the “Food/Drink” section; the best deserve to be mainstream—and bestseller Pappyland proved that.

This is a dual memoir in some ways, following the rise, fall, and incredible rise again of the Van Winkle family and their grandfather Pappy’s vaunted and eponymous spirit, along with the story of Thompson reckoning with his own family lore and fatherhood. 

A wonderful collection of outrageous, yet drily witty, short stories by the mordant satirist Saki (aka H.H. Munro tragically killed in WW1 – a great loss to literature). The milieux may be “cosy”, in that the setting is upper-class England of the early twentieth century, but the style is cuttingly astringent (darker than Wodehouse), yet the situations farcical. To be enjoyed with a generous libation to hand – though a malt whisky rather than a softer gin might be appropriate. A bonus to this edition is the excellent introduction by the late and great Graham Greene.

Stephenson truly is a curious bartender and has written a shelfful of books about cocktails, and cocktail recipes.

My favorite books of his, though, are the more recent ones when he started looking at individual spirits, and not just what you can do with them but how and where they are made. The best is this road trip around the USA, visiting whiskey distilleries large and small, which combines drink writing and travel writing - my own two writing topics!

He visits 50 distilleries, from Vermont to California, including names you'll know, like Jack Daniel's and Jim Beam, and names you need to know, like Leopold Brothers, Wyoming Whiskey, and Garrison Brothers. It's a terrific romp of a read.

Not just another whisky-tasting book, A Sense of Place is an enlightening travelogue through Scotland’s picturesque whisky regions, exploring both old and new distilleries, their past and more importantly and uniquely, their present and future.

Investigating from the ground up, Dave Broom takes you on this journey with him as the third wheel behind him and the superb photographer, Christina Kernohan.

Reporting on the expedition as a welcoming diary, it is simultaneously warm and informative with wide-ranging topics covering the archaeology of the Orkney Islands, the role of peat through time and even touching on the politics of the 18th and 19th century that led to the ‘business’ of whisky, while seamlessly connecting them to the current effects of climate change and the sustainable whisky making movement of present-day distillers and their diversity.

I was left with Mr. Broom’s optimism for the future in general and of whisky in this… show more.

It’s no secret that the world of whiskey is a boys’ club. Yet one in three whiskey drinks in the United States today is actually consumed by a woman. Whiskey Women is a step towards breaking down the doors to the whiskey club – from the inside.

Author Fred Minnick – a whiskey journalist himself – reveals how women not only love whiskey, they practically invented it. From the pioneering home distillers of the nation’s foremothers to the daredevil bootleggers of the twenties to the intrepid entrepreneurs and booze makers of today, no Scotch, bourbon, rye, or Irish whiskies would be what they are today without the experience, skill, and general badassery of generations of whiskey women. 

This is neither an encyclopedia nor a tasting guide; rather, it is a deep travelogue of Islay, a Scottish island that is home to only a few thousand people and several of the greatest whisky distilleries on earth. Jefford paints for the reader a rich portrait of the island as a whole, and highly detailed miniatures of Ardbeg, Bowmore, Bruichladdich, Bunnahabhain, Caol Ila, Lagavulin, and Laphroaig. The reader who works through this thick book will come away with a thick knowledge of Scotch whisky, and a deep appreciation of the slice-of-heaven-on-earth that is Islay.

This book is a big-hearted meditation on family, on the ties that bind—and sometimes constrict.

Bernard masterfully evokes the ambiguities of life in the small Oregon town of Disappointment, where Lewis Yaw is contending with some fierce private demons while raising an equally fierce daughter, Gray. When their family’s happiness is shattered by tragedy, both Lewis and Gray must reconceive their ideas of who they are and what, beyond generational pain, actually makes up a family.

Bernard’s lushly evocative prose brings their world into such sharp, sensual focus—I could practically taste the whisky in the coffee and smell the sap running in the piney woods.

Rorabaugh argues convincingly that alcohol of several types—but mostly rum and whisky—were part and parcel of, and at times even drove, early national American culture. Solo and group binges increased from 1790 to 1820 as the population tried to adapt to anxious and uncertain changes in their lives. Drinking became aligned with liberty—taverns were the “seedbeds of the revolution” and the “nurseries of freedom.” And although boozing came to be an early element in what was defined as the American character, the temperance movement was not far off.