In a previous essay in this journal (Book Review – James M. Gabler: Passions: The Wines and Travels of Thomas Jefferson.” Journal of Wine Economics 16 (2021): 102–114), I highlighted the fact that the book combined my “armchair fascination with American history and my abiding interest and love of fine wine.” So, it is not a massive stretch to now offer a review of a book that provides an unconventional perspective on American history by tracing the cultural, economic, and political impact of some distinctively American beverages – bourbon and rye whiskeys. The full title of the book summarizes its ambitious scope and objective: American History Through a Whiskey Glass: How Distilled Spirits, Domestic Cuisine, and Popular Music Shaped a Nation. The author, Harris Cooper, is a distinguished professor emeritus of psychology and neuroscience at Duke University, and clearly a lover of American whiskey.

Before delving further into this volume, I will confess that my own preferred spirit is not Bourbon or Rye, but rather Single Malt Scotch Whiskey. But even such an indirect connection provided a good excuse for me read this book, seated in my favorite living room chair, next to a roaring fire, with a “Glencairn glass” beside me of Talisker 10-Year Old Scotch Whiskey from the Isle of Sky, some three hours west of Inverness.

The book begins by examining whiskey's early role in colonial America, exploring how it became a staple of daily life and even a driver of economic growth. Along the way, Cooper examines some important historical moments—including the Whiskey Rebellion, Prohibition, and the modern renaissance of craft distilling—in his attempt to show how whiskey both influenced and was influenced by the country's evolution. The book examines how whiskey has intersected with pivotal moments in American culture, politics, and economics. Indeed, it becomes clear that the country's history influenced the ups, downs, and ultimate pathways of whiskey production, but the book makes a considerably less compelling case that whiskey consistently influenced the country's broader evolution.

That said, the author does a remarkable job of connecting American whiskey with broader cultural elements, including domestic cuisine and popular music, demonstrating how whiskey's journey mirrored changes in American identity, from frontier ruggedness, westward expansion, the Civil War, and industrial innovation. Anecdotes abound, including about George Washington, who was a distiller himself, and such anecdotes add richness to the narrative.

I assume that American whiskey enthusiasts (of which, as I noted above, I am not one) will be delighted with the inclusion of recipes and whiskey recommendations. However, for others, I cannot say that the book will provide an effective and reliable route to learning American history. There are, of course, hundreds, indeed many thousands of books that will provide better introductions, let alone more focused treatments, whether of political, social, or economic history.

But the writing style is engaging and accessible, making historical topics clear without completely sacrificing depth. It is an enjoyable read. The author combines his research with a light, even playful tone, leading to a book that can educate and entertain. So, if you are looking for a fresh take on America's past, this book might provide a “spirited journey” worth taking. And it should be noted it is a beautifully illustrated and produced volume, suitable for your coffee table, but small enough in dimensions for convenient reading.

The book will be enjoyed by readers who combine interests in history, food and drink culture, and quirky perspectives on well-known topics. And it will be particularly appealing to American whiskey enthusiasts who want to understand the historical significance of their favorite drink.

But for me, I will continue to look forward to someone writing a definitive history of Scotland from an evolutionary perspective, dating back to 1494, when Friar John Cor of Lindores Abbey received a King's commission to produce “water of life,” which in Gaelic evolved to be known as “whiskey.” Speaking of which, the sun is setting, the chill in the air is nicely broken by the warmth coming from my fireplace, and so please forgive me if I close this essay now, and pour myself a dram of Single Malt, this time from Glenmorangie in the Scottish Highlands.