AN UTTER BETRAYAL OF TRADITION: A booze review of MIDNIGHT MOON

Wow, there has been a huge movement to revive moonshine in this country.  If only Georgia Moon had held out another ten years before releasing its product.  They could have made money hand over fist.

And why not bring moonshine back?  It’s cheap to make, and you only have to age it 30 days, unlike the customary 4-9 years.  Best of all, anyone could make it.  You can go online and buy everything you need to make a still, and the distilling instructions seem pretty easy.

Except . . . well, the major problem with this new glut of moonshine on the market is IT’S NOT REAL MOONSHINE!  The highest proof of the stuff you’ll find is 100.  No, that is NOT moonshine.  Real moonshine runs anywhere between 180-190, and it will fuck you the fuck up.  Drink enough of it, and you could go blind.  Seriously.  YOU WILL LOSE YOUR EYESIGHT.  It takes the hardiest of constitutions and the strongest of stomachs to deal with the real stuff.

The most popular of the new moonshines is Midnight Moon.  Even the skeptical have to agree that the story on the label is pretty cool.  It’s the tale of Junior Johnson and his family.  To hear them tell it, this guy was constantly on the run, selling his moonshine like them Duke boys of Hazzard County.  Sure enough, that was probably the case.  Here’s the problem:  “Midnight Moon follows the Johnson family, small batch recipe.  It’s proudly made by our very own hands, and triple distilled to craft a smooth, clean-tasting spirit.”

Remember this.  We’ll come back to it in a second.

Never mind that the bottle comes with the old-fashioned sticker seal that booze used to have before someone invented twist caps.  Johnson’s original moonshine, since it was illegal to possess in the first place, would certainly not have had the seal back in the good ol’ days.  As soon as you pull the cork, you’ll notice that there’s barely any scent.  Not bad for the functioning alcoholics out there, but real moonshine has a distinctive rubbing alcohol odor.

And the taste?  Smooth as can be.  There is almost no taste, and there is minimal burn.  Not bad for drunkards in training, but for seasoned drinkers?  No.  Absolutely not.  MOONSHINE HAS TO KICK YOUR ASS FROM THE VERY INSTANT YOU TASTE IT.  It has to be harsh.  It has to set your throat on fire.  It has to hurt.  Because, well, it’s cheap shit with more in common than engine cleaner than whiskey.

Remember that quote from the label?  There is no fucking way that someone like Junior Johnson, if he is indeed as portrayed in the story, would have sold this shit.  It’s too smooth, it’s too nice, and it’s a mere 80-proof.  If he really was as they say, this product is a complete betrayal of his tradition.

The biggest crime of all?  It’s not as cheap as moonshine should be.  Depending on which state you live in, it costs anywhere between twenty and thirty bucks for a fifth.  That’s outrageous.

In short, if Junior Johnson were alive to see and taste his legacy, he would be sorely disappointed in his descendants.  What kind of asshole would take something as vicious and vile as moonshine and try to turn it into a hipster drink?

[EDIT:  Uh . . . it turns out that Junior Johnson is still alive, and he has given his approval to this product.  He’s even a part of the company.  You can get a bottle of this shit personally signed by him.  This is absolutely disgusting news.  Clearly he felt the need to cash in on his story.  So, yeah.  He’s a sellout.  Come on.  The website even says their moonshine is gluten-free.  What are they going to do next?  Put nutrition facts on the label?  Go fuck yourself.]