Day 0 (Amsterdam): The Curious Case of Corenwyn

Of my many bourgeois past-times, which include falcon breeding and derivatives trading, spirits connoisseurship is perhaps my favorite.  Which is why I was pleasantly surprised to discover the existence of genever (pronounced GENE-uh-ver) during a layover in Amsterdam's airport, a national drink of sorts of the Dutch, and perhaps other vaguely Flemish peoples [citation needed].

Bols Corenwyn 2 year old, a type of genever. Note the tasty side of herring and pickles. I wish my beverage had been served this way at the airport.

While I was tempted to purchase tulip bulbs (of the variety that drove the Dutch economy to ruin) or a porcelain thimble adorned with windmills, something else caught my eye at the duty free store. Beyond the mountains of Marlboros, beyond the towers of Toblerone, I found a curious clay vessel in the alcohol section (see above). Not willing to shell out 30 euro for a potentially gimmicky (it was near the "absinthe" after all), fragile crock of mystery booze, I walked on. I went and enjoyed the tropical climate in the temperature and humidity-controlled, glass-walled cigar room before continuing on my way.

That is until I encountered the permanent genever exhibit installed at the airport. This mini-museum included videos explaining the origin and production process of genever, as well as samples of the ingredients and a real-life copper pot still!

So here's the scuttlebutt: genever is distilled from a mash made of corn, barley, and rye. The museum says that this is intended to create the greatest complexity in the drink, but my historical intuition says that a bunch of Dutch guys got all their random bits of leftover grain together and had the bright idea to make booze out of it. Maybe it still had some rough edges, so the guys decided to run their distillate through some juniper berries and whatever other herbs they could get their hands on.

Nomeclature can often make spirits confusing, and genever seems to be no exception. When I ordered my sampler of three genevers, they were all labled as corenwyn (CORE-in-vine), which is apparently a proprietary name for a genever that produced by the Bols distilling company (named after Lucas Bols, the supposed "inventor" of genever, according to the Bols distilling company).

Anyway, tasting notebook in hand, I took a sniff at each of my drinks. Because of the combination of malts and botanicals (juniper, herbs, etc), the odor was somewhere between gin and whiskey. It reminded me a lot of Doubled and Twisted, a whiskey that's made by distilling Anderson Valley IPA that's been accidentally double-hopped (which adds a lot of pine and citrus scents). I've heard the distiller mention that his next project is to distill Racer 5 IPA.

From what I could gather, my three drinks differed only in age. Here are some tasting notes (be aware that most of this is bullshit, mixed with what I was able to decipher from the Dutch tasting notes):
Bols Corenwyn 2 years old -- smells like pine pitch and lemons. tastes like a light, toasty graininess. finishes short, light, and fruity.
Bols Corenwyn 6 years old -- smells like turpentine. tastes like pungent vanilla extract with a corky astringency. burns your throat for a good 30-60 seconds.
Bols Corenwyn 10 years old -- i didn't bother much to smell my drink at this point in the tasting course. tastes like oak, citrus fruit, jalapeno spiciness (the rye?), and walnuts. it lingers in a good way.

So that's genever in a nutshell!

(Amateur) pro tip: If you or your friends ever want to become trendy, alcohol-snob bartenders, you may want to consider substituting genever for gin in your cocktails. You can tell a cool story about its unique Dutch heritage and pretend it has all the amazing, complex flavors that I just made up (or stole) above.