New York was once the new world. Ohio was unmapped. Texas, a legend. Alaska... well, that one’s still out there. Americans have always been drawn to the unknown, to anything ripe for the harvest. The whiskey scene is no different.

In recent years, a new frontier has emerged—American Single Malt. It’s the Wild West, a lawless land waiting to be tamed, and far from a Scottish Single Malt mimic. With Scotch comes legacy and rules (and tariffs). With bourbon comes Kentucky legacy and even more rules (albeit no tariffs). With American Single Malt? Welcome to the land of the free and the home of the brave— where log cabins still puff smoke, babbling brooks still lead to who-knows-where, and jackets only come in animal hide or flannel. American Single Malt is largely unexplored and often unexpected—perfect for a journey across the nation, one pour at a time.

Like the country that raised it, American Single Malt is vast, varied, and wild.

But first . . . what is American Single Malt? If you guessed “Single Malt made in America,” congratulations! You won another pour, courtesy of your liquor cabinet! Now, let’s get nerdy.

The category of “single malt” originated in Ireland and Scotland hundreds of years ago. Back then, the Scots made it a worldwide phenomenon and today, single malts are considered the pinnacle of Scotch whisky. (That’s “whisky” without an “e”, since that’s how the Scots like it. It doesn’t change the final product, but it’s best not to argue with a man wearing a kilt.)

“Single” means the whiskey was made by a single distillery. “Malt” refers to malted barley. In the case of Scotch, single malts are distilled only from malted barley. In America, most single malt distillers do the same. But they’re still trying to pass actual rules for the category (hence the Wild West aspect of the story).

The other big factor in a whiskey’s creation is aging. Unlike bourbon, which must be aged in new oak casks, American Single Malt can be aged in used casks as well. Some commonly used cask types include ex-bourbon, ex-sherry or port, and even ex-single malt casks. Like Scotch, this allows the oak to take a backseat to some other flavors . . . if the distiller wants it to.

Image by Frontier

So, that leaves a big question: Is American Single Malt actually nothing other than . . . Scotch made in America?

Well, some distillers are definitely aiming for that classic profile. But this is America! We do what we want! So a word of advice: don’t dive into an American Single Malt expecting a classic Speyside or Islay dram. As you’ll soon see, this category is as varied as the country it’s named after!

That being said . . . we start our Tour de American Single Malt with a pour that could fool even the most trained tasters into thinking they were on the banks of the River Spey. The “Courage and Conviction” line from Virginia Distillery Co. is one of the most Scotch-like American Single Malts I have ever tasted. And for any fan of sherry-forward Scotch, Courage and Conviction Sherry Aged is a must try. On the nose is a fragrant, buttery, red fruity sweetness that Macallan lovers will recognize with plenty of vanilla and just a hint of green apple peel. The taste mirrors the nose, especially that butteriness, with a bit more emphasis on spice and toasted hazelnuts. The finish elongates those sherry notes even more, toward the direction of Oloroso: dried red fruits, toffee, and caramel.

All in all, Virginians should be more than proud of what’s coming out of their state! But I’m a little biased toward our next stop: Texas.

Perhaps no state in the craft whiskey scene is more controversial. The hot Texas climate scorches whiskey as it ages, and you either love it or hate it. I, for one, love it. The oak overdose can be quite a hassle in the world of new barrel-aged bourbon, but American Single Malt has the option to play outside those rules.

Enter one of the original Texas distilleries and the biggest player in Texas single malt, Balcones. Its “Lineage” expression embraces both new and previously used barrels, resulting in a fruit bomb that’s still blooming with Texas character. Fig jam, vanilla custard, and grapefruit pith greet you on the nose. Honey, raw fig, peach, and more of that grapefruit dance on the tongue. The finish lingers with classic Texas charred oak, burnt sugar, and a fruitiness that awakens when you breathe it all in. Lineage was the whisky (there’s that missing “e” again) that first made me fall in love with Balcones. And at only about $35 a bottle, it’s hard to beat!

Traveling south in the same state, we arrive in the Texas Hill Country, a wild land of limestone cliffs, cedar groves, and rolling bluebonnet pastures. To me, it’s home, rattlesnake-riddled, sun-scorched home. It’s serene . . . with an attitude, and so is its single malt. About an hour north of San Antonio, we find Andalusia Whiskey Company and its Irish peated expression, Revenant Oak. The serenity: German chocolate cake, rich vanilla, and savory butterscotch. The attitude: smoked brisket with just enough sweet, peppery barbecue sauce to remind us that we’re in Texas. Put simply, it’s cake at a barbecue joint . . . an unexpected, yet oddly satisfying pairing that’s about as mouthwatering as it gets.

But unlike Scotch, American Single Malt doesn’t always use peat to add smoke. Peat bogs are everywhere in Scotland—it was the fuel they had on hand to dry their barley. Here in America, if you want to start a fire, you use wood. At Santa Fe Spirits in New Mexico, they chose locally abundant mesquite. Aged in the High Desert at 7,000 feet above sea level, their “Original Mesquite” expression of Original Santa Fe Whiskey is a prime example of forging your own traditions. This whiskey smells nothing of peat, but more like tangy barbecue sauce dripping into a mesquite campfire. This carries over to the taste, which also dances with caramel, bright spice, and zingy green apple (they did start out as an apple orchard, after all).

Next, we leave Texas, heading back north and up into the Rockies to visit a pioneer in American Single Malt that has been making possibly the most quintessential pour of the category since 2004: Stranahan’s Colorado Whiskey. Soft on the nose, Stranahan’s Original has chocolate, butterscotch, and a f loral graininess, like the crisp warmth of an early mountain spring. The taste brings the ripe fruits of summer, which is short, albeit sweet, up in the mountains. So, fall sets in quick: honey, fresh grain, and that chocolate again. Stranahan’s Original finishes just shy of winter, since Coloradans, I can imagine, get enough of that already. Why not enjoy the other seasons?

Stranahan's is a whiskey company based in Colorado, renowned for its handcrafted single malt whiskey. Established in 2004, it distills, ages, and bottles its whiskey using Rocky Mountain water and locally sourced barley to create a unique flavor. Photo by Stranahan's

Or even other regions entirely. Lately, Stranahan’s has been experimenting with finishing their American Single Malt in barrels from across the world: Irish whiskey, tequila, and most recently, rum. These unique whiskies are released as their Diamond Peak series, one experiment at a time. The third annual release was finished in Caribbean rum casks and provides a familiar yet surprising take on their Single Malt. Sweet notes of vanilla are amplified in the aroma, turning into banana Runts candy. Sweet toffee and tropical fruits arrive with a sip, along with a silky mouthfeel that evolves into coconut candy, earthy malt, and the classic Stranahan’s chocolate on the finish. At around $80 a bottle, it’s a pour to savor, and it delivers!

On the final stop of this tour, we head to the Pacific Northwest, which has become a hotbed for American Single Malt, in large part thanks to Seattle’s Westland Distillery. Westland’s base offering is a prime example of their unique flavor profile, which takes the chocolate note of many American Single Malts and boosts it up, adding a roasted nuttiness to the finish. It’s a good place to start. But if you fall in love with Westland, might I recommend something special?

Westland Garryana is a night among the pines in the northern forests. At once desserty and dark, but sparkling, like a warm cup of hot chocolate under a starry sky. “Garryana” refers to the native species of oak that the whiskey is partially aged in. As for the rest of the aging process, it varies by batch. I’ve been enjoying Edition 6, which mixes Garryana barrels with first and second fill sherry and brandy barrels—both of which come across in spades. The sherry sweetness is prominent at the beginning of the sip, while a cognac-like effervescence appears midway. It clocks in at 50% ABV with a premium price tag of around $150. So, savor it respectfully, preferably with friends around a late fall campfire.

Like the country that raised it, American Single Malt is vast, varied, and wild. It follows the American traditions of innovation and adaptation. And its story, just like our own, is just getting started. So, if you’re looking to venture out from the status quo, find one of the bottles mentioned here, sit back, and explore. Or, even better, find something local, something pushing the boundaries, something dedicated to truth, transparency, and a brighter tomorrow. Here’s to all the innovators, creators, and those willing to take a chance on the unknown. There’s nothing more American than that.

Except, of course, apple pie. And baseball. And mom! (Sorry Mom.) Cheers!

Kase Duggan is a writer and whiskey enthusiast from the Texas Hill Country.