Before you even pour a drop of Pendleton Original Canadian Whisky, the bottle tells a story. An old school medicine bottle with a label sporting a bucking bronco — this is American wild west iconography dialed up to eleven. Which begs the question: which version of Canada are we getting with this bottle: the “please and thank you” version or the “elbows up” version?
History
Pendleton Whisky started out as a brand of spirits produced by Hood River Distillers in Oregon. Originally founded in 1934 and named after Mount Hood, the distillery was the first legal distillery in the state of Oregon since prohibition and was issued the ATF designator DSP-OR-1. While the initial focus was to use leftover apples and pears from the annual fruit production and turn them into shelf stable (and valuable) brandy, the company has since expanded into whiskey, gin, and other spirits.
The name and cowboy branding on the bottle of Pendleton Whisky was intended to honor the western tradition of the Pendleton Round-Up rodeo, an event that brings together the best cowboys in the world every year since 1910.
In 2017, the brand was sold to New Jersey-based Proximo Spirits, owner of Jose Cuervo as well as popular Colorado based Stranahan’s whiskey. Following the acquisition, production shifted from Oregon to Canada — meaning that the actual whiskey within the bottle is made from Canadian grains in Canadian distilleries, but still remains bottled by Hood River Distillers in Oregon.
Product
Since this is a Canadian whisky, there really isn’t much information we know about what goes into the bottle. As a whiskey, this needs to come from grains — but the specific proportions and sources aren’t specified. We can assume that the grain in this bottle is Canadian sourced, likely with a high percentage of rye (which is stylistically common for Canadian spirits). Those grains are milled, cooked, fermented, and then distilled into a raw whiskey that is placed into oak barrels for an unknown period of time to mature.
What makes this unusually difficult to suss out is the fact that Canadian whiskey made for export (which this is) can legally contain a surprisingly large percentage of other liquids. What other liquids, you ask? Pretty much anything that isn’t toxic — anything from food coloring to wine and brandy or even non-alcoholic mixtures are on the table.
Once produced, the whiskey is shipped across the border to Oregon where it is proofed down with local Oregon river water and bottled for sale.
Packaging
I’ll make my displeasure known right up front — this is deceptive marketing at best. Everything about this bottle is intended to give the impression that this spirit hails from the American west, but in truth it’s a Canadian distillate for a company owned by a large New Jersey corporation.
The bottle is shaped roughly like an old medicine bottle, with a round body, flat base, and a rounded shoulder. Right where the shoulder starts, there’s a small ridge around the bottle, typically designed to keep the bottle from shattering when knocked over and prevent damage when banged together with other bottles. That’s all capped off with a short neck and a wood and cork stopper.
On the front of the bottle is a big yellowed label with the brand name, an illustration of a western rodeo rider on a horse, and the words “The Western Tradition”. I guess in fairness we could be talking about cowboys in Canadian Alberta… but that’s not likely to be the first thing that springs to people’s minds with that imagery.
The back label doesn’t help, talking about how this pays homage to an Oregon tradition and uses spring water from Mount Hood in the production process. Which is all technically correct… in the same way that Prince Harry can claim to be a Californian because he’s lived there for the last few years. Its technically true… but it kinda buries the lede.
Stripping away the deception, the bottle is generally well designed and appropriate for the vibe they are trying to achieve.
Neat
The whisky is a nice dark amber color in the glass, which doesn’t really tell us much in the long run. The possibility of undisclosed additives in here means it could just as easily have turned out purple and have the same flavors.
What I’m getting most on the nose is raw industrial alcohol. There’s a little hint of black licorice which is my usual telltale sign that I’m getting mostly raw components, and mixed in are some notes of apple, brown sugar, and vanilla. It’s a very light aroma that doesn’t really come across to me like an American whiskey, reading instead more like something in the lighter Scottish tradition.
Taking a sip, I’ll actually double down on that comparison. The flavor profile here is spot-on for a mediocre Highlands whisky from Scotland, but nowhere near what I would expect for an American whiskey. Most of what I can taste is some light vanilla and caramel, mixed in with some dried apricots, and an overall buttery texture. It’s like a much more boring and simple version of Glenmorangie.
On Ice
As you might expect, with a little ice in the glass, the flavors in here pretty much collapse into the most basic version of themselves possible. I’m getting a hint of vanilla, a touch of brown sugar, and mostly a whole lot of sourdough bread. It’s all reinforcing the Scottish vibes on that front.
Making things slightly worse: there’s just a little bit of bitterness on the finish. It’s not enough to be a dealkiller, but enough to give the drink a chalky kind of texture in the end.
Cocktail (Old Fashioned)
I’ll give this drink a little bit of respect: this isn’t as bad as it could have been.
Up front, this is mostly a cold and alcoholic glass of angostura bitters. There’s a hint of vanilla and brown sugar that is trying to peek through and balance things out, but it’s losing that battle badly. It’s not unpleasant, necessarily… just bland.
What makes this truly unfortunate is that chalky texture on the finish. It gives the cocktail an unpleasant aftertaste that really needs some simple syrup to counteract.
Fizz (Mule)
This might be the most bland mule I’ve ever had, unfortunately.
It’s actually worse than if you had just used vodka. In that case, the crispness of the ginger beer and lime juice would persist and shine through like a effervescent margarita. But here, because there’s that sourdough bread aspect and the chalky aftertaste, that’s like dropping a Tums into the cocktail. It zaps all of the vim and vigor out of the flavors and leaves behind a pale shadow of what once was.
Overall Rating
Personally, for this whisky, I really can’t get over the Canadian roots. I don’t have anything against Canadians — my wife’s family is full of Québécois– but I do have a bone to pick with companies that try to hide things from the public. In this case, we’ve got a whisky that is primarily produced in Canada, but marketed as if it were an old west brand… and I really can’t let that one slip.
Moving onto the whisky itself, this is about as exciting as a pair of socks on Christmas morning. There’s not much flavor in this spirit, instead it opts for a mellow and simple flavor profile that has an unfortunate twinge of chalkiness on the finish. It’s not a standout when taken neat and only gets worse when you use it in cocktails.
In the end, I think I’m going to have to give this a single solitary star. It was at least drinkable, but there are far more interesting and delicious bottles on the shelf for this same price, and you should try one of those instead.
| Pendleton Original Canadian Whisky Production Location: Canada Classification: Whiskey Aging: No Age Statement (NAS) Proof: 40% ABV Price: $21.95 / 750 ml Overall Rating:   |
Overall Rating: 1/5
Pendleton Original promises cowboy bravado but delivers a bland, chalky Canadian whisky best left on the shelf.
The triumph of marketing over distilling, I guess.
I gave this a try in Florida 3 years ago (?) and was very unimpressed. It was not even good as a mixer. I used to keep a bottle of Jim Beam Maple around for an occasional sweet sipper, but thought I’d make my own. Pendleton was suggested. The Beam was distilled then maple syrup added after that process, so I did the same with the Pendleton a little at a time. It was passable but not the same. There is one made in Quebec called Sortelege that is tasty, but I have not seen the Beam product for some time.
I agree. I just bought a bottle to try and I am very unimpressed. It is very bland and only good if you just got to have a quick drink without caring much about character or complexity. 1 star is appropriate.