Westward began life inside a Portland craft brewery, and you can taste the lineage in every sip. Distillers Christian Krogstad and Thomas Mooney treated the wash like a great ale — two-row Pacific Northwest barley, American ale yeast, and a patient five-day fermentation that coaxes out fruit esters most distillers never meet. The result is a single malt that sits closer to a rich porter-brewed spirit than anything from Speyside or Islay.
The nose opens with warm cocoa and hazelnut, the sort of scent that pulls you toward a bakery doorway on a cold morning. Behind it, stone fruit unfurls — apricot, yellow plum, a suggestion of candied orange peel. Oxidation brings out sourdough crust and a touch of dried fig.
On the palate, Westward is unapologetically full-bodied. Malted milk and dark chocolate arrive first, followed by cherry compote and a gentle oak spice. The ale yeast fingerprint is unmistakable — a faint banana-bread sweetness that softens the mid-palate without tipping into cloying. American oak, lightly charred, holds it all together with vanilla and toasted coconut.
The finish is where Westward earns its place. Long, cocoa-dusted, with a parade of roasted malt, quiet espresso, and a final breath of Douglas fir that feels like a love letter to Oregon itself. At 45% ABV, it drinks warmly without ever shouting. This is American single malt made by brewers who understood whisky was waiting at the end of the glass all along — a benchmark bottle for anyone exploring the category, and a reliable ambassador for Oregon's thriving craft distilling scene.
