1992. Jesus, it seems like a million years ago sometimes. Step into a bar or a liquor store, it was a whole different world. Mezcal was that cheap stuff with the worm at the bottom of the bottle. Daiquiris and margaritas were frozen, neon-colored concoctions that rarely saw a drop of fresh fruit juice. Old Tom gin? Creme de Violette? Weren’t they characters in a Tennessee Williams play?

And bourbon? Well, bourbon was bottom-shelf stuff. It was still around, of course — unlike its sibling spirit rye whiskey, which nearly disappeared in the ‘80s and ‘90s. But it wasn’t respected, and it certainly wasn’t cool.

Into the breach stepped Booker Noe, Master Distiller of Jim Beam, with a 100-proof, 9-year-old bourbon called Knob Creek. It was a riposte to all the bourbons that had been watered down to 80 proof in the wake of vodka and light rum’s popularity, harkening back to the golden age of bottled-in-bond bourbons, which were also bottled at 100 proof. Knob Creek was in your face, with a big, bold flavor that could hold its own in any cocktail and was delicious neat or on the rocks. A quarter century later, the Knob Creek style is what most whiskey drinkers have come to expect from their bourbons.

And let us not forget it was the first bourbon to sport the curious label “small batch.” Nowadays, it seems like every spirit with its eye on the whiskey-geek market calls itself small batch. And the funny thing is, nobody quite knows what it means. I asked Fred Noe — Booker’s son, and the distiller of Knob Creek since Booker passed away in 2004, what the story was. “[Booker] kinda coined that term,” Fred says, “because at that time we were just doing Jim Beam white [label], Jim Beam black, dumping 700-800 barrels a day for that. And then when small batch came out, he was just doing a couple hundred barrels. We were still mingling the barrels together, still in batches and not a single barrel offering. But we called it small batch, and it kind of took off. There’s no legal definition of what small batch is. i guess it could be anything from two barrels to... any number. I’ve seen some bottles that say ‘very small batch’ — I’d like to know how many barrels that is!”

Fred is celebrating Knob Creek’s 25th anniversary in the best possible way, with a limited edition bottling of some truly rare bourbon he’d set aside just for the occasion. Bottled at cask strength and aged 12-13 years (it was laid down in 2004), it’ll be a single barrel release, meaning the proof and the flavor will vary slightly between bottles from different barrels. Fred Noe will be selecting each barrel — he guesses the run will be about 300 barrels (suggested retail price is $130). “It’s just ones that tickle my fancy on the day we select,” he says. “We’re gonna have a lot of fun with it. At least I am, because I’ll get to taste a lot of it!”

I got to taste some of it, too. The anniversary edition of Knob Creek, to be released this summer, will be in the neighborhood of 125 proof (alcohol content varies slightly from barrel to barrel). On first blush, it’s reminiscent of Booker’s Bourbon, Jim Beam’s cask-strength behemoth that launched at roughly the same time as Knob Creek. But get past the alcoholic heat and it’s clearly a different distillate, as Noe makes clear, with its characteristic rounded brown sugar and toffee notes. The extra age makes it drier than standard KC, with more wood and char, especially on the finish. It’s a mature, distinguished bourbon — classic Knob Creek, elder statesman style — but the fact that it’s straight from the barrel sets it apart from the 2001-vintage bottling which came out last year and disappeared soon after it hit the shelves.

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Most Knob Creek, in fact, doesn’t seem to stick around for long. In 2008, production had to stop for several months while Noe and the Jim Beam crew waited for stocks to age sufficiently. More recently, they had to remove the 9-year-old age statement from the label, because there simply wasn’t enough 9 year old bourbon to meet demand. Today, it’s a mix of bourbons that are both older and younger than nine years. “Putting that age statement ties your hands pretty tight when supplies run short,” says Noe. “We haven’t had any issues — we have the barrels reserved, older barrels, and it just opened us up to using some barrels a little under nine, to keep it on the shelf. So far we haven’t had any negative response.” As a Knob Creek drinker for a good 20 years now, I can, with considerable relief, attest to the fact that no-age-statement Knob Creek still tastes like Knob Creek.

Given that there’s not enough nine-year-old Knob Creek to go around, the fact that the whiskey in the 25th Anniversary edition is almost old enough to be bar mitzvahed is a small miracle. And a very tasty miracle, too. “What you got is straight from the barrel, a deep down drink,” says Noe. “That’s what we’re trying to do with this bottle, it’s like you’re in the warehouse. You’re getting it as close to the natural state as possible.” Which is why, ironically, the man who created Knob Creek didn’t drink it. “When dad put me out on the road,” Noe says, “he gave me Knob Creek. My job was to promote Knob Creek. And it’s funny, one day in Alaska, he asked me, ‘Why do you always order Knob Creek?’ I said, ‘Well, I like it!’ And he said, ‘Booker’s is for men, Knob Creek is for boys.’ I was 37 years old, drinking 100 proof bourbon, and he was calling me a boy!” But Fred thinks Booker would enjoy the 25th Anniversary bottling. “You get that uncut, unfiltered bourbon — Dad always said that’s the way it used to be, that’s the way it’s meant to be.”

Regardless of what Booker Noe would have thought of me, I’m not ashamed to say Knob Creek has been one of my go-to bourbons since both the brand and I were much younger. It’s easy to overlook Knob Creek in 2017. Hell, I’ve gone a year or two at a time without drinking the stuff, something I scarcely could have imagined a decade ago. We’re inundated with so many new bourbons, some of which are pretty terrific, that it’s easy to forget the old standbys, even if by bourbon standards Knob Creek is still one of the newer kids on the block — you can still buy brands dating back to the 1800s, after all. But a few months ago I poured a glass for the first time in ages, and fell in love with it all over again. I’d recommend you do the same. If by some weird happenstance you’ve never tried it, give it a go, in a Manhattan (my preferred KC tipple of choice) or on its own, with or without an ice cube. You’ll be happy you did.