Charbay

By Meghan Swanson, 3/10/2022

Most of us are familiar with the butterfly effect described in chaos theory, thanks to pop culture. The thought that the tiny, feather-light movements of a butterfly’s wing might cause a violent storm on the other side of the planet is a fantastical one. The effect can be seen in more than just meteorological or mathematical terms; in a historical sense, it would be like the time Archduke Franz Ferdinand’s driver took a wrong turn in Sarajevo. Once upon a time, nearly two hundred years earlier than the Archduke’s fateful ride, the Austro-Hungarian Empire recognized a particular family for its wine- and brandy-making prowess. Thirteen generations later, the craft practiced by the family that impressed Empress Maria Theresa of the Hapsburgs would spearhead the brand-new American craft distilling scene and usher in a new era of creativity and dedication to craft spirits. Today, it’s hard to imagine any up-and-coming, youthful place not containing at least one hardworking craft distillery turning out lovingly-made small batch spirits and pushing the envelope of distilling one barrel at a time. An 18th century Karakasevic ancestor’s decision to enter the distilling trade led to the founding of Charbay Distillery in Ukiah, California, in the 20th century; this course correction to the path of history led to Charbay blazing a trail for the American craft distillery movement.

“The definition of Master Distiller in our family, at least, is the ability to meet and exceed your instructor.”

Marko Karakasevic (pronounced kar-uh-KOSH-eh-vitch) represents the 13th generation of distillers in his family. Until his father’s generation, the family had lived and operated in Europe. The family had a successful distillery, restaurant, and small hotel in what was formerly Yugoslavia. In the 1960s, however, then-president Josip Broz Tito nationalized that family business. Marko’s father, Milorad “Miles” Karakasevic, unsatisfied with the scant acre left after the government had eaten up the rest of the family’s holdings, was the first in 12 generations to pull up stakes and head for new territory. Fittingly, his journey would eventually lead him to the American West. 

Miles Karakasevic studied enology in Germany, emigrated to Canada, and was invited to Michigan to help start a winery. He would meet his wife Susan in Michigan, and together they would head to the center of the American wine world in the 1970s: Napa Valley, California. Beringer hired Miles as an assistant winemaker, and he would continue to hone his craft and nurture his family’s legacy among the fertile valleys and soft sunshine of their new home. In 1983, when Marko was ten years old, Miles and Susan would open their own winery and distillery, bringing an Alambic Charentais pot still, made by Pruhlo in France, to their new venture. The Karakasevic legacy had made it through hundreds of years of political turmoil and survived relocation across the globe. 

Marko’s path to Master Distiller had humble beginnings; his very first job at the distillery was scrubbing out the still. At ten, he was small enough to climb inside and sit on an upturned bucket, washing the curved interior of the still over his head while cleaner dripped down into his hair. It would take time (and some growing), but by high school he was working at the distillery in earnest - and no longer scrubbing the inside of the still. Unlike most American teenagers, Marko had a complete understanding of fermentation, distillation, and everything else about alcohol. “Being in a distilling family, I always knew what was going on. I started brewing beer in high school.” he explains. He found he loved it - and was good at it. He floated the idea of starting his own brewery to his mom, but Susan shut it down. Undeterred, and with a craftsman’s eye for potential, he pitched another idea to his dad. “Why can’t I distill this beer I just made?” he asked Miles. After all, he reasoned, whiskey is made from fermented grain mash, which is basically beer. Again, it was a no - ready to drink beers contain hops, his father said, and that’s just not how it’s done. Marko’s whiskey idea would lie dormant for a while as he continued his education in distilling.

“Some people are natural-born salesmen, you know…it was very easy to like the product that I had and very easy to sell a really good product…and make friends along the way. It worked.”

Though the very first thing Charbay made was brandy, Miles dabbled in everything from walnut liqueur to fruit extracts and perfumes. Charbay even distilled a spirit they called Pachanga, inspired by tequila but made on American soil. They sourced Jerusalem artichokes (also called sunroot or sunchoke) from the Yakima Valley in Washington state and distilled Pachanga from them, calling it the newest ‘primal’ spirit in the world (that title being previously held by tequila). By 1998, Marko was running the roads selling Charbay’s wares, and keeping an eye on industry trends. He noticed that, at the time, two things were hot: wine, and flavored vodkas. Sensing what American drinkers wanted, Marko urged Miles to produce a vodka. At first, Miles refused - he wasn’t interested in making vodka. They were trying their hand at making a Meyer lemon extract, and when the idea of producing a Meyer lemon limoncello surfaced, Marko tried again: why not a Meyer lemon vodka? This time, Miles acquiesced. 

Marko’s Meyer lemon vodka was a hit, and would soon expand to other flavors like blood orange, ruby red grapefruit, and key lime. Marko’s imagination had been fired by the success. “Once that [flavored vodka] started blowing up, it was like ‘it’s time to get back into the distillery and start making…whiskey’.” he recalls. It was finally time to revive that old high school homebrew dream, and distill an American whiskey from a ready-to-drink beer. 

Marko had made plenty of friends and acquaintances in the beverage world, so when a local brewery was closing its doors in 1999, they called him up. They had 20,000 gallons of a lovely Czech-style pilsner - did he want it? Marko snapped up the beer, and was off to the races - or rather, off to Charbay’s still. “You couldn’t ask for anything better. It was awesome.” he tells us. He and Miles distilled it, barrelled it, and two years later were ready to launch lot 1 of Charbay whiskey from a select number of barrels from that run. Because the whiskey contained hops, the TTB insisted the only thing it could be called was “hop-flavored whiskey”. Understandably, Marko wasn’t thrilled with the name; who, he wondered, would take a chance on such a thing as “hop-flavored whiskey”? It was the first of its kind already, and an odd-sounding name would not be a boon to sales. But it was the only way the TTB would allow him to still call his spirit ‘whiskey’, so he capitulated. 

He needn’t have worried. The 1000 gallons of whiskey they wrested from that 20,000 gallons of pilsner would become incredibly successful, proving the Charbay name over and over again with each lot Miles and Marko have judiciously released over the years. The unique character of the whiskey was, as Marko had hoped, actually a selling point. “They’re always looking for quality; quality restaurants are. They’re looking for something unique, they’re looking for something that tastes great, and that no one else has. Hop-flavored whiskey definitely fits that niche.” he explains. 

Bottles of that original Pilsner whiskey go for thousands of dollars apiece on the secondary market. They are so rare to find that Marko recounts with glee the time he found four bottles on the shelf of a Houston liquor store while traveling. The clerk didn’t realize what he had in those four dusty bottles; Marko offered him a thousand dollars on the spot, which he gladly took as ‘people don’t really drink that around here.’ The clerk offloaded a few bottles of what he thought was an unpopular whiskey, and Marko actually got his hands back on some of the precious whiskey he and Miles had distilled all those years ago.

“Learning from him exactly how he did it–I took that and extrapolated and put it into a way that worked for me to get those results, and built on it.”

Though Marko had plucked a golden opportunity for Charbay with the pilsner whiskey and germinated the idea that became the successful flavored vodka series, these achievements didn’t necessarily make him a Master Distiller. For that, he had to not only meet his father’s expectations, but exceed them. It wasn’t always easy. “That master is not an instructor. That master is a master of what he’s a master of, he’s not a master of conveying how to be a master.” Marko explains. He persisted, learning everything he could from his parents while he continued to dedicate himself to the work at Charbay. “It’d be a whole ‘nother existence without my mom and dad, y’know, showing me, teaching me, telling me what to do.” he admits. 

To earn the Master Distiller title, Marko would need a ‘thesis’. Pleased by how his pilsner whiskey turned out, he decided to take things a little further in that direction. He would start with something the Karakasevics were already excellent at: an eau de vie. Eau de vie is traditionally a clear, unaged spirit made from fruit. Marko liked the idea of his spirit being stripped to its essentials, showcasing nothing but its pure high quality.  “Eau de vie is fun. It’s the real deal, there’s no hiding. What it is coming off the pipe is what is in the bottle.” he explains. Instead of fruit, however, he started with ready-to-drink beer again. This time, he sourced a hoppy, flavorful IPA instead of the more mellow pilsner style. Once it was finished, he barrel-aged the spirit for just one day (in order to qualify it as whiskey) and then put it into stainless steel for the next five years. When it emerged, that white whiskey would be the master’s thesis that, after 26 years of distilling work, would make Marko a Master Distiller.

He called the white whiskey Doubled & Twisted. ‘Doubled’ is a reflection of the double-distillation process used traditionally to make eau de vie. ‘Twisted’ is a call back to an old moonshining term. When the distillate running out of the pipe reaches a certain density, it will twist back over on itself as it flows, forming a tight double helix. Once upon a time, on a homegrown (and often illegal) moonshine still, watching for that ‘twist’ told the distiller when it had reached the desired proof. It was a low-tech way for the distiller to judge when they had reached the best cut without needing equipment like a hydrometer. Doubled & Twisted was a totally unique spirit, one that Marko had distilled himself and brought to a market that didn’t yet know it wanted some. In 2011, just after its release, it was awarded the top score in the American Whiskey category by F. Paul Pacult’s Ultimate Spirits Challenge and given a rating of “Excellent, Highly Recommended”. This prestigious win cemented Marko’s achievement. He told his father about the honor, to which Miles retorted that well, he already knew it was good. Then he said to Marko, “Congratulations, you’re a goddamn Master Distiller. Let’s drink some and smoke cigars.”

Marko would not rest on his laurels for long; he would follow up Doubled & Twisted with another IPA-based whiskey. Marko is a big fan of Bear Republic Brewing, another local craft beverage maker. He loves their Racer 5 IPA, so he decided to call them up and see if they wanted to collaborate. They accepted with enthusiasm, and Marko set to whipping up a double-distilled whiskey based on their beer. Unfortunately, the TTB would not allow Charbay to advertise using Bear Republic’s name. Marko ended up calling the whiskey ‘R5’ in a nod to its beginnings as Racer 5 IPA, and soon Spirit Journal had another unique American whiskey to settle its “Highly Recommend” honor onto. 

One night, while enjoying a pint of Bear Republic’s Big Bear Black Stout, it hit him - this was a completely different flavor profile from their Racer 5. “Man, these beers totally contrast each other, big time. They’re totally different, in the form of beer. I know this is gonna taste really good as a whiskey.” He recalls. He followed his instincts, and once again they were right on the money. Whiskey S, as the resulting spirit would be called, earned 90 points from Whisky Advocate and the praise of whiskey critics. Even more importantly, to Marko, it earned high praise from Miles. He fondly recalls the moment when, on a fishing trip in Alaska, Miles bestowed a rare compliment on him. “We’re smoking cigars and drinking whiskey, and he’s like, [shakes head] ‘...probably the best thing you’ve ever distilled.’ I was like…oh my God, I think that was a goddamn compliment.” Marko recounts with a laugh. 

“Federal licenses were available…but no one was really doing it because it was super expensive, takes a lot of time to develop product, no one knew what they were really doing (except for moonshining), it was an expensive product to make, an expensive product to sell, and you know…it just wasn’t cool yet.”

As with any long-term endeavor, Charbay has gone through some changes since it came into being nearly forty years ago. As a trailblazer in American craft distilling, it had no blueprint to follow, no predecessors to imitate. In 1983, Miles and Susan started up their winery/distillery as the very Old-World ‘Domaine Karakash’. Karakash is the ancestral spelling of Karakasevic, the family name as it was used in the time of Empress Maria Theresa, and of course ‘domaine’ is from the French for a winery estate. Their very first products were classic as well; a Chardonnay along with a Sauvignon Blanc. However, in 1987, they created something that was one of a kind; dessert wine made by adding brandy distilled on their alambic Charentais still to their Chardonnay wine. They called it ‘Charbay,’ (pronounced with the soft ‘sh’, just like Chardonnay), a portmanteau of Chardonnay and brandy. Just a few years later, the family would change the name of the entire operation. “Why don’t we name the whole distillery Charbay - aren’t you tired of hearing people brutalize our last name all the time?” Marko recalls asking his father. 

At first, the Karakasevics kept the ‘Domaine’; in the early 1990s, anything kissed by the cultural glow of Frenchness was far more seductive to the consumer. However, in Napa Valley, they were by no means the only ‘domaine’ out there. Marko remembers constantly receiving calls at the distillery from diners trying to reach Domaine Chandon’s restaurant. 411 would mix the names up frequently, routing callers to Charbay - which certainly couldn’t help them with their dinner reservation. Marko redirected confused patrons to Domaine Chandon’s restaurant so often that, to this day, he can recite their phone number from the 1990s by heart. Eventually, the family dropped ‘Domaine’, and the distillery and winery became simply ‘Charbay’, as we know it today. 

Charbay’s label is also a result of the natural evolution of their brand over time. Their first labels were a simple design incorporating Miles and Susan’s favorite colors and adding gold. There was also a time where they used the Karakasevic coat of arms; Marko shakes his head at this, citing a potentially negative association with history and politics he doesn’t think consumers want with their spirits. The logo in use today actually evolved from the Pachanga, the ‘primal spirit’ they created in the early 1990s. That label sported a stylized, blazing sun to represent the sunroot it was distilled from. The sun made it onto the rest of the labels, with a twist. On their whiskey bottles, it’s a half-sun (perhaps representing a California sunset), and the circular center has become the silhouette of Charbay’s alambic pot still. The combination of the sun’s rays, visually reminiscent of indigenous American art, and the classic shape of the French alambic still is a succinct visual definition of Charbay’s unique story.

“It’s like peeling an onion, y’know. There’s so many layers, you can peel off twenty layers at a time and get to the core of what you’re looking for in the middle of the onion, or you can go real slow and pick off each layer of that bastard…just slowly peel it apart, layer by layer. When you do that, you really expose a lot of unique flavors that get blown over.”

With their history stretching back hundreds of years and their current operation having been in service since the 1980s, Charbay’s sole focus, naturally, hasn’t been on whiskey. In fact, the ultimate rank in the Karakasevic family, Grand Master Distiller, can only be achieved by a distiller who distills all four of the major spirit categories: brandy, whiskey, rum, and tequila. Miles Karakasevic holds this distinction; it is especially impressive as, for a spirit to be called tequila, it can only be distilled within Mexico. 

Charbay has made every kind of spirit except for gin, including some unusual products like black walnut liqueur, pastis, and calvados (French apple brandy). All of these were distilled on Charbay’s alambic Charentais pot still. Purchased from Cognac, France, it’s a 660-gallon copper beauty that is highly unusual here in the United States, where the vast majority of our whiskey is made on column stills. Like other types of pot stills, a Cognac-style alambic pot still is not the most efficient choice in terms of sheer productivity or volume. It requires direct-flame heat, and uses a worm/tub condenser instead of the more common shell/tube condenser. This means the vapor coming off the still is run through a coiled pipe - the ‘worm’ - that is submerged in a large tub of cold water. This cools the vapor, condensing it back into liquid form, and the resulting distillate emerges from the worm below the cooling tub. A shell/tube is far more compact, with bundles of small copper pipes enclosed in a copper shell, where some of the pipes run the vapor off the still and other pipes run cooling liquid, effecting the same type of heat transfer and forcing the vapor to condense into liquid again. The alambic pot still is one of the reasons the Karakasevics’ prowess in distilling is particularly impressive; it is a more exacting type of equipment than most, and requires a certain level of mastery to use well. 

Marko’s penchant for experimentation has resulted in the necessity to master some unusual skills. Distilling straight from ready-to-drink beer, as he does for their Whiskey S, R5 and Doubled & Twisted whiskeys, means he has to be very careful with the levels of CO2 in the still. A Cognac still doesn’t have what he calls a “puker return” - a place to catch and manage any mash that boils out if the still gets too hot. “Puking”, or boiling over, can make a real mess in addition to ruining the batch of distillate you were working with. We asked Marko how he manages to keep the alambic from boiling over. “You’ve got to talk to it. It’s you, the still, it’s the middle of the night, it’s late, it’s probably the seventh day in a row, 24 hours a day, you sleep three hours a day.” he says ruefully.  “I like to think that I trick the CO2 out of solution, and get it to come out without blowing the shit out of everything.” he tells us with a grin. 

Unfortunately, Marko’s sweet talk doesn’t work as well on the state as it does on CO2. An ongoing frustration for Charbay is the inability to sell directly to their consumers, a frustration shared in many states across the country. Under current California law, they cannot operate a tasting room or sell their bottles directly to visitors. They have to point them to the nearest retailer that carries their products; clearly, this won’t always eventually result in a sale. Marko finds it ridiculous that a traveler can buy a pound of marijuana at a dispensary or a case of wine at the vineyard down the road, but can’t purchase any of his whiskey when they stop by the distillery. “We could have someone show up from Mars,” he laments, “and wouldn’t be able to sell them one single bottle of our whiskey.” Charbay is part of an effort fighting the double standard of beverage sales in California; they’re lobbying to pass SB-620, a bill that would allow licensed craft distillers to sell directly to consumers, in California. “It might pass, and we might actually be able to sell retail direct to consumer in 2023.” Marko explains. At the time of this writing, the bill has passed the California State Senate and is with the California State Assembly. 

“It’s the collection of knowledge that we have…being able to do what you want to do. It’s the American way.”

With the knowledge of generations of European masters behind him and a French copper still in front of him, in 2019 Marko laid down that most American of spirits: bourbon. His mash bill is 53% corn, the rest made up of a variety of two-row malted barley, again produced with the assistance of Bear Republic Brewing. It’s coming up on three years in the barrel, and we can’t wait to taste the Charbay spin. “I want to show off my expression…my interpretation of what bourbon is.” Marko explains. In 2020, Charbay suffered the mighty blow of the COVID-19 pandemic, much like every other distillery. In a stroke of poor luck, 80% of Charbay’s sales happened to be on-premise. Bars and restaurants closed down and stopped ordering spirits from distributors, putting a squeeze on distilleries. It was a scary time, admits Marko. Doing their part to help combat the virus, they turned to producing hand sanitizer. In the end, the Karakasevic legacy won out over history yet again; Charbay is still bubbling and bottling in California.

Charbay is not a sleek, highly-commercialized operation. Though it continues to turn out highly-awarded spirits and has been featured by the likes of Condé Nast Traveler, Food & Wine, and Esquire, it’s still just a family business to Marko. The label on Doubled & Twisted emphasizes this, reading “1 still - 1 distiller”. His family distills for the same reason it always has–to make a living. Teaching distilling is a deeply personal endeavor, says Marko - if he were to hire someone, teach them everything he’s learned, and then that person left the distillery, where would he be? For now, he’s content to keep the operation low-key. The financial investment of a second still, a hired distiller, and the necessary sales team to help Charbay grow is another deterrent. “It’s just not something that we really need right now.” he tells us. However, he does have hopes for the next generation, his two sons. “If I show them everything I know, and I already have a full-on working distillery, with customers, with products sitting in the barrel already…maybe they’ll [the next generation] be able to go ballistic and go take it off.” he says. “I just want to go to Mexico and go fishing. Have them take it over.” he shares with a laugh.

If that long-ago Karakasevic hadn’t put their hand to the still back in Europe, if the geopolitical dominoes of history had not fallen in such a way as to spur Miles to America, and if Marko hadn’t been born with the natural sales abilities and innovative instincts that have brought Charbay success in the face of new beverage industry trends, America’s understanding of the concept of craft spirits wouldn’t be what it is today. “You have the ability to take knowledge you have from the world…and utilize it to make something that you couldn’t make in some other part, some other country in the world.” Marko explains. The Karakasevics’ contribution to the American spirits industry might seem modest, on the surface–but like the beat of a butterfly’s wings across the globe, it has a had a far larger effect than anyone could have anticipated.

TASTING NOTES:

R5 (49.5% ABV)

Nose: Snickerdoodle Cookie, Lemon Zest, Honey, Hops

Palate: The mouthfeel is thick, silky and coating. There is similar snickerdoodle sweetness mixed with dark chocolate up front. Cinnamon guides the transition into a  spicy and herbal mid palate with notes of dried oregano, smoked paprika and white peppercorn . The finish is long with savory flavors of burnt end brisket, grilled asparagus, hops and smoke. 

This whiskey is really cool. It has a great balance with very distinctive flavors from start to finish. The body on this whiskey is chewy and substantial  and the transition from sweet to spicy to savory keeps you coming back sip after sip. 

S (49.5% ABV)

Nose: Chocolate, Caramel, Hazelnut, Dark Roast Coffee

Palate: The mouthfeel is soft and creamy with delectable chocolate candy sweetness up front. That sweetness persists through the mid palate leading to a short finish with slight hints of black pepper and marzipan.

If you like sweets, then this is a great whiskey for you. A very different sweetness than the corn sweetness you get from a bourbon. Again, the body on this whiskey is fantastic, though it lacks the variety of flavor and finish that the R5 has. 

Doubled & Twisted (45% ABV)

Nose: Raw Honey, Toasted Malt, Hops

Palate: The mouthfeel is light and coating with vanilla cake with sugar icing up front. Soft baking spices gently float along the mid palate leading to a long finish of vanilla, oats, hops, and orange citrus.

The body on this one is a bit thinner, but still holds up nicely. There is a strong balance between sweetness, hops, and grain flavor. The citrus and hops notes on the finish are reminiscent of the experience of drinking a well crafted beer, making this a great proof of concept for the whiskey from ready to drink beer approach.