What few people know, however, is that an awful lot of the craft whiskey found in these different bottles traces back to a single distillery in Lawrenceburg, Indiana—and it wasn’t originally intended to be bottled as rye at all.

Yet Jay Erisman, now with New Riff Distilling in Newport, Kentucky, calls this some of “the best rye in the history of rye.” It was initially produced and aged by Seagram’s, a mighty empire with the Indiana distillery as its hub. The assertive whiskey was made not to be consumed on its own but as a component to add flavor to the company’s other products, including blended whiskeys such as Crown Royal and Seagram’s Seven.

In the 1990s, the Seagram’s heirs went chasing after Hollywood unicorns, buying MCA—the parent of Universal Studios and its theme parks—with spectacularly disastrous results. Seagram’s, which had been in the liquor business since 1857, tanked and sold off its distilleries. The Indiana rye, sitting in barrels stacked in warehouses, was acquired by a major spirits producer, Pernod Ricard. Some of the whiskey was bottled up by another large producer, Diageo, which branded it as Bulleit rye; other barrels were sold off to independent bottlers, who blended it with other whiskeys or aged it further and then slapped their own labels on it. You’ll find this ur-rye in bottles of Templeton, High West, Redemption, Willett, and Old Scout, among others.

These independent bottlers, it turned out, hit a trifecta: they snapped up superb aged rye, they acquired it on the cheap, and they did so just as consumer demand began to explode.

Larry Ebersold, the former distiller at Seagram’s, told me that the company had put considerable research into the development of its rye whiskey. Researchers experimented with distilling methods and then adjusted the proportions of grain. One breakthrough came after they received a shipment of rye grain from Sweden. Rather than smelling like “a barnyard,” as did most of the domestic rye they used, Ebersold recalled, “this was some of the sweetest-smelling rye grain and made some of the best rye whiskey we had ever produced.” The company soon changed how it handled its grain to amass rye that resembled the Swedish shipment.

The Indiana distillery was purchased in 2011 by Midwest Grain Products Ingredients, a commodity producer based in Atchison, Kansas, which says it’s committed to producing high-quality rye and bourbon. But whether it can duplicate the quality of Seagram’s original remains to be seen. In any case, with a roughly five-year lead time to allow for aging, it will be a while before supply can catch up with demand.

Meanwhile, the bottlers who stumbled upon that remarkable stash of unused rye are now scrambling to find new sources of aged rye—a difficult task, given limited supplies. Some, such as Templeton, are now distilling and aging their own.

But regardless of where the whiskey comes from, our newfound thirst for rye seems here to stay. Craft distillers are even rolling out long-forgotten variations, including Monongahela and Maryland ryes. “It’s not a fad,” Jay Erisman says. “It’s part of a cultural shift in drinking.”

The days when Old Overholt was the only rye on the shelf, in other words, are now safely behind us.