In association with
"Woah," I gasp under my breath as the van hits a pothole and I’m jolted in my seat. The road to Gimli, Manitoba, is bumpy at times, but my destination is alluring enough that I don’t mind.
The community on the edge of Lake Winnipeg, about an hour from the capital city, is home to the sprawling Crown Royal distillery. As soon as it comes into view, I’m in absolute awe at the sheer magnitude of the 360-acre property; huge warehouses extend as far as the eye can see, and pipes billow steam high into the crisp late-winter air above gargantuan silver fermentation tanks.
Below, a rig — naturally, decked out in Crown Royal’s iconic regal purple and logo — is parked with an enormous “barrel” payload attached.
“Welcome to the home of Crown Royal,” beams Stephen Wilson, director of whisky engagement. If this is Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, Wilson is the candy maker himself. Sporting a neatly trimmed beard, a yellow safety vest and a twinkle in his eye, he greets the group with near-giddy excitement. We’re fortunate enough to be here to view how Crown Royal is prepared first-hand.
Initially prepared as a gift to impress the King and Queen, in 1939 — which explains the drink’s plush purple sleeve — today, it’s “Canada’s number-one whisky.” There are more barrels of whisky stored in the 51 warehouses here than there are people in Manitoba, Wilson tells us — 1.5 million, to be exact.
On my tour, we walk through the process of creating the Canadian whisky, from grain to glass. The group gawks at the impressive distillery equipment, including three-storey tanks, swimming with oceans of active yeast; and a gleaming brown coffey still. It’s the only one of its kind currently in use in North America, Wilson asserts proudly.
I’m struck by how human the process of creating Crown still is
It’s not just using a coffey still that sets Crown Royal apart, though. Despite the scale of this production, I’m struck by how human the process of creating Crown still is. We meet the quality team — real people with razor-sharp senses, finely tuned to sniff and sip the spirits that make up Crown Royal’s 50-whisky blend at every stage. This is no easy task; the liquid gold is made up of five mash bills, aged for varying periods (but at least three years) in new or re-used charred oak barrels. “It’s a badge of honour to be [a quality tester],” Wilson says. “It’s not just one person. It's multiple folks saying ‘This meets the Crown Royal standard.’”
Afterwards, we’re in for a treat as Wilson pours us 13 different whiskies, including rye, coffey rye and bourbon-style ryes, pre- and post-barrel-aging, so we can experience how Crown’s signature smooth, spiced and sweet profile is created. The flavours vary wildly, and it’s a fascinating glimpse behind the curtain to taste such a polished, beloved recipe, deconstructed.
Wilson saves the best for last, leading us into one of the distillery’s warehouses. My eyes widen at the hundreds and hundreds of oak barrels, stacked to the ceiling; and my nostrils are filled with rich perfumes of aging whisky, which I’d bottle and use as potpourri if I could.
Wilson mischievously pulls a few Sharpies out of his pocket and urges us to sign the barrels. I squeeze my signature between the other scribbled names that decorate the wood. Because these barrels are reused countless times — “until they start leaking,” Wilson winks — my name will be stored at Crown Royal’s Gimli distillery for years to come.
To me, the thought of Crown’s warehouses crammed with barrels bearing the names of whisky enjoyers and the employees who work hard to distill such an exceptional product is fitting. This is Canada’s whisky, after all — and we’re pretty proud of it, too.
