Kansas Clean Distilled Whiskey
The origin story is this: it’s 2008 and veteran ad man and Palisades resident Paul Goldman sits in a London hotel bar with his wife, Alice. Alice peruses a long list of exotic cocktails. She doesn’t know what to drink. Paul suggests whiskey. “Why would I drink a whiskey?” says Alice. “Women don’t drink whiskey. It’s not cool. It’s for old people and it tastes horrible.”
And there it was. Since working late nights as a copywriter searching for a turn of phrase to morph a physical product into a brand, Goldman’s fantasized about making his own product – and now he knows what it’ll be. He’ll make a modern whiskey for non-whiskey drinkers. Forget grouse hunting gents sporting kilts. Forget tweed caps and schooners. Goldman will make a whiskey that’s sexy, slick and unabashedly well designed.
Fast forward to September 2011 and it’s Kansas City Fashion Week sponsored by, you guessed it, Goldman’s creation, Kansas Clean Distilled Whiskey. The kicker; beautiful women are everywhere and the only alcohol available is the Slinky Skirt, a professionally designed cocktail of equal parts Kansas Clean Distilled, Chambord and lemon juice.
Sounds effortlessly glamorous, doesn’t it? Well, here’s the real story. Interviewed at his home, Goldman admits the project’s been more financially draining, more labor intensive and scarier than he’d bargained for. “I thought it would be like a bunch of Swedes twisting some knobs in a distillery,” he says.
In fact, creating Kansas Clean Distilled Whiskey has been a three-year, step-by-step education in nurturing an idea from concept to launch and Goldman has understood the stakes from the beginning. “If I created a beautiful bottle, a liquid that looked promising, branding around it that seemed kind of youthful and gender neutral,” he says, “you’d get somebody to try it once, but if the liquid didn’t deliver, that’s it.” So Goldman’s plan was to buy a small distillery and make the spirit from scratch. A Google search identified an artisanal operation for sale in Kansas and he boarded a plane for the heartland. But after a chat with the owner of what Goldman describes as a “somewhat nefarious” backyard Quonset hut operation, he left empty handed. Heading back to the airport, he noticed a large factory by the side of the road. More Googling revealed it was a contract distillery and that, for a fee, he could design and manufacture his liquor there. (This is how most perfume and many spirits are produced). Eight months, and many, many samples later Goldman finally had his mix.
Next was the sensuous, flask-shaped bottle Goldman had sketched out on a napkin back at the bar in London. He plunks a 12” tall bottle of Kanas onto the table where we’re sitting. It’s as enticingly beautiful as a perfume bottle. “Thank God I didn’t know anything about what you can’t do with glass,” he says, explaining that the bottle’s backside curve and high, square shoulders require hand fabrication. Goldman says it took about a year to track down a guy in Mexico City willing to realize his design.
The cap configuration was another few months of tinkering, and when a worldwide search for a manufacturer came up empty, Goldman found a Brooklyn perfume bottle cap maker that could do it properly. (It happens to be the same company that makes the lids for Clinique products, which, Goldman says, is “pretty cool.”) Next, the minutia of bottle labeling, coloring, fill levels, type size and text had to conform to federal law. There was a back and forth for several months about adjectives Goldman wanted on the bottle and the government didn’t. Even printing the required health warnings on the bottle’s side to preserve its sleek front was another level of customization.
Finally, just over three years later, Goldman had a gorgeously packaged, pale amber spirit ready to ship and silky smooth brochures touting the whiskey’s hip, artisanal product persona. Of course, he’d invested three times the capital budgeted and there was a labyrinth of state regulations and distribution deals to be worked through.
“There’s been a lot of sleepless nights, but I think I went into this knowing that,” says Goldman. Goldman is banking on what his instincts and experience as a successful TV commercial director tell him, namely, that consumers buy things as much for how they make them feel as for the product itself. And, it just so happens that creating an emotional connection between consumer and product is what Goldman knows best.
“I’m not an artist in any form, but it’s a craft and it’s a very difficult one to do well,” says Goldman.
Kansas Clean Distilled Whiskey is described by several online review sites as a vanilla scented whiskey light enough to be consumed like a vodka. But with young, well scrubbed women and quirky, cool looking men peopling the print ads, Goldman’s whiskey feels like two parts American no-nonsense, one part savvy youth culture and a splash of bygone era glam – a heady combination that makes it possible to imagine a modern day Ava Gardner knocking back two fingers of Kansas at a roadside bar and walking away from the movie business.
So far reviews and sales are good. Goldman says he’s selling about 2,800 cases annually (six bottles to a case), and Kansas Clean Distilled is currently available in 15 states with contracts in the works for New Zealand, Australia, Japan, Sweden and Germany.
And, Goldman admits, he’s having fun. He grasps the bottle with both hands and picks it up like an adored child. “I wanted something that was physical - physical that I could create,” he says, “this is my bottle, this is my liquid, this is the cap.”
A few moments later, Goldman says, “You know Jack Daniels has been around a hundred and fifty years. I don’t care about me, ‘cause I’ll be dead and gone, but it’d be nice to have something that continues on after you’re not around…it doesn’t matter what it is… it’d be nice to have something that keeps going.”