In case you haven’t heard, doomsday is coming—more droughts, floods, famine, class warfare, entitled children, and, brace yourself: a bourbon shortage! Yes, traditional Kentucky distillers didn’t predict or prepare for this Mad Men-inspired mixology epoch. And if it continues on this trajectory, thousands of years from now geologists and archaeologists will be able to identify the bourbon-free era in the absence of fancy rectangular bottles in the remains of fallen civilizations. 
 
 That is, unless scientists can build a whiskey time machine, a way to gracefully cheat the slow aging process that offers bourbon its rich oaky tones and sweet and smooth finish. 
 
 The popularity of bourbon in the past decade has been a major high and hangover for American distillers. (The name “bourbon” is reserved for barrel-aged whiskeys made primarily of corn in the United States.) In 2002, the U.S. sold 13 million cases of bourbon; in 2014, 19 million cases, generating $2.7 billion in revenue. But the popularity and the time bourbon takes to mature, paired with a shortage of new American oak barrels that traditional whiskeys are aged in, means there simply isn’t enough of the good stuff to go around. Evidence of a shortage is generally delivered in anecdotes, but in an independent opinion survey taken this year by Fred Minnick, booze blogger and author of Whiskey Women: The Untold Story of How Women Saved Bourbon, Scotch & Irish Whiskey, 82 percent of 149 high-end bourbon drinkers said they have been unable to find bourbons they once found. 
 
 Scientifically savvy distillers have already squeezed the slow aging process into months and weeks. 
 
 It is the finest bourbons, those that are produced in limited supply and aged for 12, 18, or more years that have been the hardest to find in the past several years. Drinkers with deep pockets have bought up much of the limited release bourbons from well-established companies—Van Winkle, Buffalo Trace Antique Collection, Four Roses Limited Editions—explains Lew Bryson, the managing editor of Whisky Advocate magazine. “Having cleared them off the market, they’ve now started in on lesser-known bourbons, almost in a panic-buying mode, buying multiple bottles of whiskeys they feel sure will simply disappear.” 
 
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 It’s a frightening prospect. 
 
 Enter entrepreneurs with start-up spirits and a potential solution. Through a variety of unconventional aging methods, drawing on chemistry, they have already squeezed a two- to more-than-20-year process into days, weeks, and months, much to the chagrin of whiskey connoisseurs, who will tell you the secret to a refined bourbon is time. While some companies have taken age labels off their bottles to get products to market sooner (bye-bye 12-year-old premium bourbon; hello ambiguously aged premium bourbon), new distilleries are experimenting with smaller barrels and rapid oxidation. 
 
 The magic that turns harsh ethanol, the product of distillation, into a sophisticated sip of smooth bourbon with undertones of vanilla and caramel happens when young alcohol meets oak barrel. Whiskey aging traditionally starts when an oak barrel is charred, breaking down the lignin in the wood into organic compounds called aldehydes, explains Scott Spolverino, an industry consultant with a degree in brewing and distilling science from Heriot-Watt University, in Scotland. “These are the main building blocks of maturation.” When you add alcohol to the barrel, oxidation transforms the aldehydes into acids—syringic acid (from syringaldehyde), ferulic acid (from coniferaldehyde), and vanillic acid (from vanillin). During the aging process, changes in heat and pressure push and pull the alcohol in and out of the wood. There is a constant back-and-forth between aldehyde and acid, until the acids accumulate en masse and turn permanently into esters, adding complex character and deep flavors. 
 
 “Time in the barrel is like sandpaper, smoothing out the rough edges,” says Liza Weisstuch, who writes regularly for Whisky Magazine and the Whisky Advocate. 
 
 But a host of new distillers don’t want to wait years to start cashing in on their hefty investments. One entrepreneur trying to cheat Father Time is Tuthilltown Spirits in Gardiner, New York, makers of Hudson Baby Bourbon and Hudson Four Grain Bourbon. When it opened in 2003, Tuthilltown started experimenting with accelerating the maturation of single malt, rye, and bourbon whiskeys by letting the alcohol settle in 2- to 5-gallon oak barrels, instead of the industry-standard 53- to 55-gallon oak casks, increasing the alcohol-to-barrel-surface ratio. 
 
 “The small barrels sped up aging significantly; we could get to market in months, instead of years,” says Tuthilltown co-owner Ralph Erenzo, a rock climber who originally wanted Tuthilltown to be a climbers’ ranch. Erenzo and his crew were able to get their whiskey to market in about four months, and they discovered they liked the more pronounced vanilla flavor they were getting by using small barrels. Ten years out, and with the luxury of time, they have grown into bigger barrels—using, for the most part, a mix of 10-, 26-, and 53-gallon casks. But they still have a reserve of 3- to 5-gallon whiskey that they blend with bigger batches so they can “get that character profile that people liked all along,” Erenzo says. In 2010 Tuthilltown sold its Hudson line to William Grant & Sons Distillers, makers of Glenfiddich single malt Scotch whiskies and Hendrick’s Gin. 
 
 Spirits aged for short amounts have an edgy taste often described as “hot,” “raw” or “aggressive.” 
 
 At Copper Fox Distillery in Sperryville, Virginia, makers of Wasmund’s Single Malt Whisky and Copper Fox Rye Whisky, head distiller and owner Rick Wasmund adds toasted oak chips to his 53-gallon barrels, agitating them to increase the alcohol-to-surface ratio and exposing them to heat and cold. You can try your hand at similar bourbon aging methods at home with something called Time & Oak—an oak stick with comb-like grooves that activates “accelerated transpiration through capillary action”—the same theory behind smaller barrels and oak chips. 
 
 Terressentia, near Charleston, South Carolina, which specializes in bulk bourbon (sold in 6,000-gallon tankers), uses increased oxidation to mimic aging and take impurities out of young whiskeys, explains Terressentia CEO Earl Hewlette. Terressentia starts with undrinkable 4- to 6-month-old whiskey because they want their whiskey to be brown—something you can’t get without time in an oak barrel. They filter it in plastic tanks with a technology that expedites the aldehyde and acid dance, creating drinkable esters—chemical compounds—in just eight hours. According to Hewlette, the process has the added benefit of turning some of the fatty acids from the original fermented grains into glycerides, which act as a smoothing agent, taking the bite out of the final product. “When the bourbon shortage came along, it gave us a whole new market,” says Hewlette, noting that the same bigger companies who used to sell in bulk have been hoarding their own limited supplies. 
 
 Tom Lix, owner of the Cleveland Whiskey Company, uses steel tanks with wood segments under pressure. “One of the reasons behind working on the technology we use and starting this business was an anticipation of this shortage well in advance of when other people started talking about it,” he says. Lix also boasts that his Cleveland Black Reserve 100-proof spirit, the company’s bourbon, holds its own in taste tests against established brand Knob Creek. 
 
 Bourbon made in less than a year may be financially savvy, but most bourbon experts say it falls short on taste. “I don’t think new methods are producing whiskey that is comparable,” Bryson says. “Some accelerated whiskeys don’t feel right. They feel too thin; they don’t have the proper ‘roundness.’ ” 
 
 Spolverino explains: “When you’re aging a spirit for a short amount of time, the aldehydes and acids don’t have time to come together.” Meaning those raw flavors in fast-tracked whiskeys often come from an overabundance of aldehydes. “Adding more wood to the situation just adds more of those beginning aldehydes, it doesn’t actually speed up the process,” he says. Spirits aged for shorter amounts of time (four months instead of the two years minimum for federally approved straight bourbon, for example), have an edgy taste, often described as “hot,” “raw,” or “aggressive,” with a “shorter finish.” Spolverino has done research into an ultrasonic-energy treatment. “It could physically push the spirit deeper into the barrel staves to draw out more aldehydes and provide catalytic energy for reactions,” he says. “But I’m not entirely sure it could speed up the esterification process.” 
 
 Many of the big distillers stepped up production of high-end whiskey five years ago, when word of a shortage started to spread. And there has always been a plentiful supply of non-premium brands: Jim Beam White, Evan Williams Black, Knob Creek, Woodford Reserve, Maker’s Mark, 1792, explains Bryson. Most of the big companies dismiss accelerated aging. Mark Brown, CEO of Buffalo Trace, one of Kentucky’s larger bourbon distilling operations, says the company has spent $10 million on research and development on how to make quality whiskey, not on how to cheat time. 
 
 “The work done by others over the past 50 years aimed at expediting the aging process does not appear to have resulted in the production of a superior whiskey, quite the opposite,” says the company’s Master Distiller, Harlen Wheatley. “We’re glad people are exploring these [new] techniques,” says Brown. “But generally it only reinforces the need for time in the barrel.” 
 
 
 
 
 
 Tasha Eichenseher is a hot-toddy-sipping, freelance science and environment writer (and a senior editor at Yoga Journal) in Boulder, Colorado. ||||| Take a seat and pour yourself a drink (no, no, a different one). You may need it to listen to this news. 
 
 If bourbon is your drink of choice, you may have heard quiet rumblings the last few years of something unsettling afoot: a possible shortage coming down the pipeline. A bourbon shortage would be an interesting type because — unlike other possible food shortages (the coffee shortage, for instance) — it's not just a matter of not having enough of the ingredients. It's a matter of people 20 years ago making some bad drinks-buying decisions. 
 
 Making bourbon is, in a sense, an attempt at trying to predict the future. What will the world be like 20 or so years from now, the whiskey maker must ask herself, and just how much bourbon might they want there? So to a large extent, our current shortfall is due to people in the 1990s underestimating how much bourbon we'd want to drink today — possibly because 1990s drinkers had worse taste in alcoholic beverages. (Curse you, Zima.) 
 
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 The good news is, if bourbon-makers undershoot the mark with their production, they can always make more. The ingredients are not hard to come by. The bad news? Every new barrel starts its own new clock on the aging process. Is it possible to reset that clock, though? 
 
 There's an interesting piece up in Nautilus today detailing some of the strange methods whiskey-makers are experimenting with to speed up the bourbon aging process, with everything from ultrasonic energy bursts to basically throwing in a whole bunch of oak chips and shaking. While the new methods certainly sound fun, this taste description sounds a little less fun: 
 
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 Spirits aged for shorter amounts of time (four months instead of the two years minimum for federally approved straight bourbon, for example), have an edgy taste, often described as "hot," "raw," or "aggressive," with a "shorter finish." 
 
 Of course, not every bourbon is required to mellow for decades before it's poured; plenty can and do take considerably less time. But, the longer it's allowed to mellow, the more likely that any jagged notes in the flavor will have had time to soften. So much so that if the whiskey you're selling is less than four years old, you're required by federal whiskey law (yes, it's a thing) to slap a label on the bottle alerting potential customers to that fact (let no one say they didn't try to warn you). 
 
 The good news hidden in all this is that a bourbon shortage is by its very nature, a temporary thing. The bad news is that a solution, at least by traditional brewing methods, is always at least a decade or so away. But fear not! The future bourbon that will save us from a dispiriting future of offers of sad vodka-cranberries and weird little pickled onion martinis is already brewing. It's just not ready to arrive quite yet. 
 
 Image: : Olga_Phoenix / Shutterstock ||||| After years of growth in the United States, vodka is slowing down. For the first time since the clear spirit took the sales crown in 2007, whiskey is projected to pass it this year, and widen the gap for years to come. It doesn’t appear to be a passing trend, but a serious and long-term shift in American consumer preferences. 
 
 Vodka is still the volume king, meaning that more gallons of the stuff get sold every year, and that will continue some time at least. But in dollar value, whiskey has made a big comeback: 
 
 That different products win out in value and volume says a lot. 
 
 Vodka managed to gain ubiquity in part because it’s inoffensive and inexpensive. It was a particular favorite of the baby-boomer generation and popular in the 1980s, as it wooed a premium market with fancy bottles and sophisticated marketing. Imported brands became lucrative. When that growth plateaued, flavored vodkas provided a big, but short-lived gain. 
 
 Whiskey, however, is reaping the benefits of a trend towards the more local, authentic, and “natural.” It can command high prices, in part because of its history and in part because it’s just more interesting and varied than vodka. (Prices are up also because of a simple surge in demand for high-end bourbon.) Finally, it’s just beginning to catch on to some of the marketing tricks that propelled vodka in the first place. 
 
 The end of the flavor revolution 
 
 Adding different flavors worked extraordinarily well for vodka companies in their heyday. Stalwart brands such as Smirnoff and Absolut expanded their offerings with citrus, chili and cherry-flavored vodkas. Lesser-known entrants went wilder; Pinnacle Vodka has over 40 flavors, including Cinnabon, cotton candy, and birthday cake, while 360 Vodka offers double chocolate, Georgia peach, and buttered popcorn. Flavored vodkas made up less than 10% of sales in 2003 according to Euromonitor; now they are nearly a quarter. 
 
 But that growth was only shoring up the vodka market’s structural weakness. “They’ve reached the envelope sort-of as far as they can push it in terms of flavor innovations,” Euromonitor analyst Jared Koerten says. “So just in the last year we’ve seen growth slow down very significantly. In 2013 I think we’re looking at only 1% growth in vodka, which is a fifth of what it had been for the last five years in a row.” 
 
 Indeed, vodka’s growth is at its most sluggish in well over a decade: 
 
 And last year, for the first time, there was evidence that flavored vodka wasn’t expanding the market, but cutting into unflavored sales. Smirnoff remains the biggest liquor brand out there in terms of volume, and its struggles in the past year-and-a-half are emblematic of vodka’s difficulties: 
 
 The premium advantage 
 
 A recent Credit Suisse analyst note calls the shift away from vodka and towards whiskey a “generational rejection.” American consumers, it says, increasingly want something with “authenticity, heritage and taste.” Vodka doesn’t provide that, and big-brand, ultra-sweet, flavored vodka least of all. 
 
 Whiskey does. Bourbon in particular has a long history in the United States. It has been able to tap into the resurgence of craft distilleries and classic cocktails, helped along by pop culture (as any fan of the TV hit Mad Men can attest). Distillers can change up barrels, grains, and malts, creating lots of variations in flavor. It’s often made by old distilleries in small batches requiring years of aging, which both adds to the allure and limits production. 
 
 This is becoming evident in the pricing of vodka, which is falling relative to the overall liquor market while bourbon is rising: 
 
 Part of the reason for bourbon’s overall price rise is the growing popularity of super-premium bourbon—whiskey priced at $30 per bottle and up, made in a manner similar to single-malt Scotch whisky, where each bottle is filled from a single aged barrel instead of being a blend of spirits. Buffalo Trace created the first such single-barrel bourbon in the 1980s, after bourbon had become commoditized. While big brands like Jim Beam have done wells with cheaper bourbons, the big out-performers of late have been pricey offerings like Woodford Reserve, and the more aged stuff is outgrowing “value” bourbons like Old Crow. Big brands have released smaller-batch aged products; bottles of Pappy Van Winkle can surpass some old Scotch single malts in price. 
 
 As a result, bourbons overall have been one of the fastest-growing parts of the whiskey market in the US (The other success story is Irish whiskey, thanks mostly to a strong marketing campaign for Jameson’s, aimed at younger drinkers in bars): 
 
 Stealing a page from vodka’s book 
 
 Still, despite their success in the premium market, whiskey makers aren’t shying away from populism either. As the vodka makers did, they’re trying to extend their reach by introducing flavored products. 
 
 There are whiskies flavored with cherries (Jim Beam’s Red Stag was the first big success), cinnamon, apples, and honey (paywall). Crown Royal joined the party in very Canadian fashion with its maple-flavored offering. There were 50 new flavored whiskey products in the first half of 2013 alone. 
 
 “I think [whiskies are] starting to hit this sort of trend that hit vodka years ago where they’re starting to expand their demographic with these sweeter-flavored products,” says Euromonitor’s Koerten. “It’s a wider group than your traditional bourbon consumer, younger drinkers who maybe haven’t developed a taste for bourbon, and women who tend to under index by a very wide margin when it comes to bourbon.” 
 
 The biggest success has been Fireball, made by the Sazerac Company (which also owns Buffalo Trace and the Van Winkle brand). Euromonitor doesn’t track it as a whiskey due to its lower alcohol content, but it labels itself a cinnamon whiskey, and is at the top of Euromonitor’s list of the 15 fastest growing liquor brands of 2013 by volume. There’s only one vodka on the list, and, if you include Fireball, eight whiskies: 
 
 With distillers building capacity, socking away barrels, and opening new brands at a rapid clip, everything points to an expectation that growth in the US will continue for some years to come, as the country continues to reject beer in favor of liquor. The potential worldwide is even greater. Whiskey sales have outstripped vodka in value globally for years. By 2018, they’re projected to overtake vodka in liquid volume as well.
– It's been rumored for a few years now; Nautilus' take on the looming "bourbon shortage" is that it already has hit. Though we're awash with Knob Creek and Maker's Mark, high-end and small-batch bourbons are in short supply, spurring well-heeled drinkers to clear the next tier of bourbon from the shelves. As io9 explains, the reason we've arrived at this point can be distilled down to some poor predictions made as many as 20 years ago when the golden liquid filling today's premium bottles started being made. Basically, distillers didn't predict just how much demand would swell in this decade, and the Wall Street Journal reported in September that they've been burned before: They jacked up production in the 1970s, but demand plunged and prices followed. But Nautilus places us in a "Mad Men-inspired mixology epoch," stacking up the 19 million cases of bourbon sold last year to the 13 million sold in 2002. And while actual data detailing the shortage is hard to come by, one independent survey by writer Fred Minnick finds that 82% of 149 "high-end" bourbon drinkers report not being able to get their hands on certain bourbons right now. More on why: The aging process is what takes the edge off bourbon, so much so that anything aged less than 4 years must be labeled as such; many fine bourbons are aged 18 or more years. Nautilus takes a look at how some makers are attempting to hack down that timeline: by using oak barrels much smaller than the standard size or adding oak chips to regular-size ones in order to balloon the "alcohol-to-barrel-surface ratio," for instance. But for those who want the real, decade-aged deal, "there simply isn’t enough of the good stuff to go around," observes Nautilus. (As for whiskey, the world's best is no longer from Scotland.)