30 Jan A Single Malt Mecca

Before you sit down in a plush leather chair in front of a cozy fire and pour your favorite cocktail at the end of the day, contemplate this one question: Could the Last Best Place really be the first best place to define a whole new category of whiskey? Namely, American single malt whiskey, emphasis on “American.” 

Right now, Montana’s bounty is inciting a beautiful collaboration among creative distillers, diligent farmers, brave maltsters, prescient academia, and some of the best barley on the continent. Over the past few decades, rising out of the traditions of craft beer and fine bourbon, the artistry fueling both palate and process has fostered a creative revolution in the spirits realm. Realizing some alchemy of heritage and innovation, American single malt is the whiskey the market’s been looking for, even if it doesn’t quite know it yet. 

American single malt whiskey, often the pinnacle offering of any distillery, requires more expense, finesse, creativity, and time than any other spirit. Still, American distillers have long believed they can produce single malt whiskey that rivals the best in the world. And today, the best in the world are finally taking notice. 

Defining a new frontier

Thirty years ago, the first American single malt whiskey was made by Steve McCarthy at Clear Creek Distillery in Oregon, an offering that slowly blossomed into a full-fledged category. But a funny thing happened in the creation of the libation: No one knew quite what to make of it. What it should or could be. Thanks to the American Single Malt Whiskey Commission, which was founded by nine esteemed, independent distilleries in 2016, we now have a definition for the unique offering so the spirit can be categorized competitively, labeled, and sustained. By definition, American single malt whiskey is made from 100 percent malted barley; distilled entirely at one distillery; mashed, distilled, and matured in the U.S.; matured in oak casts of a capacity of no more than 700 liters; distilled to no more than 160 proof (80 percent alcohol by volume); and bottled at 80 proof or more (40 percent alcohol by volume).

In a vintage mining warehouse in Butte, Montana, a distiller oversees rows and rows of single malt whiskey, aged five to seven years in barrels to slowly develop its unique characteristics.

(For all you bourbon lovers out there, your beverage is different. Bourbon is made of at least 51 percent corn, aged in new American white-oak barrels, and because of the narrower definition, the flavor ranges are narrow, too. For Scotch lovers, yours is from Scotland, not America, and has a much more confined flavor profile.)

Despite these conforming requirements, creativity reigns free in the American single malt world, which really makes it hard to describe the flavor profiles in one sentence. All across America, distillers are finding what is local can help make world-class whiskey — Oregon peat, Northwest Garryana oak, New Mexico mesquite — all add distinct nuance to the recipe. Artful use of assorted barrels, plus regional storage temperature and humidity, also create unique hues and depth. 

American single malt whiskey requires more time, finesse, and creativity than other whiskeys. And, with greater time and creativity involved in grain-to-barrel production, no two American single malt whiskeys are the same.

And water? You can’t examine regional differences without looking at the water. At least in Montana, its purity rolls straight off the top of the Continental Divide and is bolstered by a state constitution that guarantees a clean and healthy environment for everyone.

So, by layering all of these distinct influences, distillers are putting their own stamp on the category while avoiding mimicking traditional Scotch single malts. Consumers can now savor smoky or traditionally peaty backbones, biscuity overlays, or toffee, vanilla, or spicy notes. Really, no two single malts are the same. The only real constant is the malt, or barley. Often considered the canvas on which distillers create their art, this tiny cereal grain is the real body and soul of a single malt whiskey, with each variety offering its own unique note. 

The beauty of barley

Most whiskey connoisseurs know little about barley, but it contains almost as much complexity as the spirit. Buzz, Franzen, Esma, and Hockett are just a few varieties that are redefining barley as a niche market rather than a bulk commodity. 

According to the Montana Department of Agriculture, 900,000 acres of barley were seeded in the state in 2024, down from the previous year’s 1.2 million acres. Most of that yield comes from the Golden Triangle above Great Falls, near towns like Choteau, Power, and the self-proclaimed malted-barley capital of the world, Fairfield. The Gallatin Valley also grows barley. And while Idaho led in total production in 2024, Montana’s kernels are an important focus for the spirits industry. 

Malthouses like Montana Craft Malt supply distillers and brewers with distinct varieties of malted barley, by the bag or by the ton.

Simply put, Montana’s soil and climate make it an ideal location for growing barley, and with little pressure from common diseases. Withstanding drought, and often even irrigation, this grain can take a lot of abuse. In fact, two-row dryland farming often yields excellent quality. While the rest of the country battles it out for corn and bean dominance, Montana is becoming an increasingly significant purveyor. In all, 65 percent of the entire Montana barley crop is used for malting, whether for giant breweries like Anheuser Busch and Coors or small craft operations.

Even Montana academia is helping the state excel. Montana State University’s Barley, Malt & Brewing Quality Lab in Bozeman is at the frontlines, providing complete quality analysis of the malt, helping breed new varieties, and supporting the industry from grower to glass. 

“We are releasing varieties of barley made to thrive in Montana,” says Director Hannah Uhlmann. “And we are pretty much the only program in the country where we can start in the greenhouse, have a cross go all the way through the 10 to 12 years of the breeding process, and end up with a variety that we can malt, brew, and perform analytical and sensory evaluations on.”

Certainly, when a product only has oak, barley, water, and time as its components, the better the start, the better the finish.

In the field, barley is a hardy grain well suited for Montana’s cool climate, high altitudes, and sometimes scarce rainfall. At harvest time, fields turn a brighter yellow than wheat fields. Photo by LEE DALHMAN

A pioneering force

John McKee had just finished making 21 barrels of whiskey on the day I met him in his hometown of Butte, Montana. 

Shaped by the infamous Copper Kings and Butte’s “dig deeper” mentality, McKee is the co-owner, founder, and chief technology officer of one of the biggest American single malt whiskey producers west of the Mississippi: Headframe Spirits. In 2024, Headframe won the Montana American Single Malt Distillery of the Year Award from the prestigious New York International Spirits Competition for the Kelley American Single Malt Whiskey and McKee’s continuous-flow still design, used from Wyoming to Costa Rica.

“I opened this distillery to make American single malt whiskey when that category didn’t even exist — 13 years to do it,” says McKee. “But my feeling is: Why should Montana grow a great crop and ship it to Kentucky or Tennessee? For me, that’s the whole idea.”

Standing in front of one of the continuous-flow stills he designed, Headframe Spirits co-owner John McKee references the newness of a spirit category only recognized by the federal government as of January, saying, “It’s good to remember, there hasn’t been an American single malt whiskey ever.”

Next to many of the other fine single malts produced in the state — Gulch, Montgomery, Glacier, Wildrye, and O’Briens — his Kelley American Single Malt, named after Butte’s most significant mine, showcases 100 percent Montana barley and is aged for five to seven years in no less than three kinds of barrels: new oak, used bourbon, and Oloroso Sherry to finish. Deep down, McKee believes that with any single malt you’re not just having a drink, you’re experiencing the region, history, ingredients, and process. And Butte brings character to each of those facets.

Every three days, McKee takes 50,000 pounds of Montana malted barley and turns it into whiskey. According to McKee, those 3,000 barrels a year account for more whiskey production in one day than all other Montana single malt distillers combined.

“Knowing that something is grown in Montana and made in Montana that can compete on the world stage against some of the great names, that’s what makes it worthwhile,” says McKee. “Shinji Fukuyo [fifth-generation chief blender for the multinational brewing and distilling group Suntory] tasted my whiskey … and he loved it.”

Uncharted territory

So, where is all this whiskey that’s not trying to be a Scotch taking itself? Since there hasn’t ever been an American single malt, this terrain, too, is uncharted. And maybe that is part of the attraction. As aficionados imbibe selections from Texas to Oregon, it’s becoming clearer that Montana is uniquely positioned to affect how Americans drink this whiskey.

And with the inception of increasingly interesting whiskeys across the country, comes increasing interest — interest that has hung on approval from the Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau, the entity tasked with legally accrediting American single malt whiskey. As of January 19, the federal government now recognizes American single malt whiskey as a distinct category, which will open the floodgates for the future of the spirit. 

Don’t be surprised if you start to see more distinctive American single malts made in the Treasure State now that the category has been officially designated

“The future is very bright,” says American Single Malt Commission President Steve Hawley. “People want to make single malt whiskey. It’s a great thing to be making. It’s engaging. It’s delicious. It will be a style of whiskey that people will turn to through the tough times and beyond.”

And right now, tough times are exactly what many distillers of all sizes are experiencing. The U.S. craft spirits market volume decreased for the first time since 2016. And questions continue to arise about whether many with high overheads and aging whiskeys can withstand the dip. 

The good thing is this American whiskey has people talking. When McKee opened Headframe in 2012, there were a handful of distilleries making American single malts. Today, there are more than 250. One innovative Montana barley farmer, Ryan Pfeifle, has even started distilling his own crop, making 40 barrels of single malt a year on his property in Power.

For all, education is still the key. If you ask Americans about whiskey today, most naturally recognize it as bourbon, but as Gulch Distillers co-owner Tyrell Hibbard, who crafts their Flying Anvil single malt at the facility in Helena, Montana, says, “We are almost counter-culture to pursue this old style. But to be really true to our environment — have integrity in our space — single malt whiskey is what we really need to tell the story.”

Made here. Grown here. Malted here. Fermented and distilled here. Stored here. Aged here. There’s nothing more Montana than a single malt.

Maybe it’s just one small liquid antidote to the whole Yellowstone series’ image of the state. Or maybe it’s more still. Maybe, as McKee asserts, “If the Last Best Place can yield all this, and we can give this back to everyone else, maybe we can give a different image of what we are — the true image we feel Montana is, which is the earth. And it’s good.”

It is good, indeed. Bottoms up, America.

What is a Malthouse?

Jennifer O’Brien is a brave soul. Just weeks before breaking ground on a $25-million industrial malting facility in 2017, her father died of a heart attack, leaving her with only the plans. She quickly had to, as she confesses, “wipe the snot from your nose, dry your eyes, stand up, and take a swing.” She did, and built Montana Craft Malt in Butte’s Silver Bow area. 

Montana Craft Malt is a hyper-attentive, mid-sized malthouse that prepares 10,000 tons of specialized barley for brewers and distillers across the state every year. During the malting process, the company adds water to barley and then germinates it for a few days to make “malted barley,” which is full of fermentable sugars that turn into alcohol. Then, the team flash dries it in a kiln, developing its final color and flavor, before shipping it to producers by the bag or ton.

Unlike multinational giants like Malteurop in Great Falls, Montana Craft Malt specializes in distinct varieties that add a range of flavors to the final product, from classically toasty to novelly nuanced, for brewers and distillers alike. 

“The arc that was felt by craft brewing, say 10 years ago, is occurring with the explosive growth of the single malt category,” says O’Brien.

The collaboration between farmers, communities, brewers, and distillers prospers through places like Montana Craft Malt. More importantly, those collaborations keep the goodness of Montana in the state that grew it.

Kernels of Truth From a Farmer

A fourth-generation dryland barley farmer near Dutton, Montana, Lee Dahlman harvests enough acres “to keep a man and his kids busy.”  He’s a modest man whose adult son, Brody, and daughter, Breanna, add the ag-operation technology know-how to Dahlman’s salt-of-the-earth experience. It’s that experience that has also led Dahlman to be a regional director for the Montana Wheat and Barley Committee.

Photo by LEE DALHMAN

When it comes to this grain, Dahlman simply says, “Well, it’s itchy … but a good rotation. That’s why we do it, a nice rotation from wheat and lentils. Today, though, everyone is looking for a quicker, faster malting barley. And they like Montana for its good growing environment, without the humidity, which cuts down the diseases.”

Even though it’s ranked among the top-paying crops in Montana, he still sometimes deems barley “difficult,” as with 2024.

“I was happy. I was dancing around,” recalls Dahlman of the initially good start to the growing season. “And then, all of a sudden came the 8th of July. We went from the 80s to 105 degrees for about two weeks. That really hurt the quality.”

Aware of barley’s possible uses, does Dahlman ever think about the liquids that might come from his crop?

“Oh yeah,” Dahlman affirms. “When I’m on the combine or getting ready, I wonder if I’m gonna ever taste this batch. I want to try one drink from my own barley. Will I get there? I hope so.”

With no shortage of humor, he smiles wryly and adds, “You know, I think some big brewer has this cliché, or their kind of slogan is ‘Montana barley in every can.’ Now, I don’t know what their single malt whiskey’s slogan is, but maybe they need to think of one.”

Jeff Moore is a writer and photographer from Livingston, Montana. He shoots and writes about outdoor subjects across the West and returns inside to shoot food and product photography, including expensive guitars, duck decoys, and top-notch steaks; jeffmooreimages.net.