Pennsylvania Senate Passes Bill to Make Rye Whiskey the Official State Spirit, Reclaiming the Commonwealth's Forgotten Whiskey Crown
For most American whiskey drinkers, the story begins in Kentucky. Bourbon country. White oak barrels stacked in rickhouses on rolling bluegrass hills, limestone-filtered water, and a mythology so thoroughly marketed that it has become nearly synonymous with American whiskey itself. But that version of history is incomplete — and the Pennsylvania state legislature just took a formal step toward correcting it.
The Pennsylvania Senate passed legislation sponsored by Sen. Camera Bartolotta (R-46) with bipartisan support to designate rye whiskey as the official spirit of the commonwealth. Senate Bill 1248 recognizes Pennsylvania's historic role in shaping America's whiskey tradition while celebrating the commonwealth's thriving craft distilling industry and agricultural heritage. The vote marks a rare moment in which a legislative body has formally weighed in on a question that whiskey historians and enthusiasts have long argued among themselves: who really built American whiskey?
The answer, at least in the eyes of the Pennsylvania Senate, is the Keystone State — and the proof stretches back more than two centuries.
Before Kentucky, There Was Pennsylvania
The conventional wisdom that bourbon is the founding spirit of America is a relatively recent rebranding of history. From the late 18th century through the 1840s, Pennsylvania led the nation in whiskey production. Federal records and the 1810 Census of Manufactures confirm that Pennsylvania produced more whiskey than any other state. Rye was the primary grain, making it the style most closely linked to American whiskey in the nation's early years.
According to Bartolotta, Pennsylvania led the nation in whiskey production, with federal records and the 1810 Census of Manufactures showing that the commonwealth once produced and distributed two to three times more whiskey than the next-largest distilling state. That is not a minor statistical footnote — it is a wholesale reframing of the American whiskey narrative. Rye, not corn. Pennsylvania, not Kentucky. The Monongahela River Valley, not the Bluegrass.
Rye whiskey was introduced to Pennsylvania in 1750. In the mid-18th century, German, Swiss and Scots-Irish settlers began cultivating rye and distilling their surplus grain. The Monongahela style that emerged from this period — high-rye mash bills, sweet mashing, low barrel entry proof — was the template for American whiskey long before any Kentucky distillery earned a reputation. "Long before Kentucky Bourbon rose to prominence, Pennsylvania distillers were defining the American whiskey tradition with bold, spicy Monongahela-style rye," Bartolotta said when she first floated the idea for the legislation.
The Whiskey Rebellion: When Tax Collectors Got Tarred and Feathered
Any serious discussion of Pennsylvania rye has to pass through the Whiskey Rebellion, one of the most consequential — and most overlooked — events in early American history. The 1794 Whiskey Rebellion, the first major tax protest after the U.S. Constitution was adopted, occurred in the 46th Senatorial District and nearby areas. This uprising against the federal excise tax on distilled spirits was an early and significant test of federal authority, establishing western Pennsylvania's lasting role in both whiskey history and the development of the American republic.
To understand why this rebellion burned so hot, you have to understand what rye whiskey meant to western Pennsylvania farmers in the 1790s. The government of the new nation imposed an excise tax on whiskey to pay off the debts owed to allies who had helped win independence from tyranny. Yet the farmers of Washington County were struggling mightily to keep their land and grow crops. Having no cash, they used their whiskey to barter for goods and supplies they needed for daily life. Whiskey-making provided their best chance to survive. This is why they saw the tax as an imposition of an arrogant, out-of-touch, new government.
Farmers, especially in Allegheny, Westmoreland, Washington and Fayette counties, refused to pay the new federal tax on whiskey, which was imposed to help the federal government repay debts from the Revolutionary War. Tensions festered for years, with local tax collectors being tarred and feathered. The rebellion eventually drew a military response from President George Washington himself, who led federal troops westward to suppress it — the only time a sitting U.S. president has personally commanded troops in the field.
Whiskey Point, located at the intersection of Main Street and Park Avenue in Monongahela, Washington County, was the site of the meeting of 226 whiskey rebels who, facing overwhelming federal force, decided to end the rebellion peacefully. That spot — a crossroads in a small western Pennsylvania town — is where one of America's first constitutional crises found its resolution. They gathered together secretly in a meetinghouse near Mingo Creek and vowed not to pay the tax. They were the first men to oppose an act of the new government, and they vowed to stick together. They called themselves the Mingo Creek Society. As a symbol of their unity, they planted Liberty Poles throughout the county. That name — Liberty Pole — would eventually be borrowed by a family of modern craft distillers looking to honor the same rebellious spirit.
Senate Bill 1248: What It Actually Says
The legislation is not simply a feel-good proclamation. It carries real teeth in terms of defining exactly what qualifies as Pennsylvania Rye Whiskey — and those definitions are rooted in the historical Monongahela style rather than the looser federal minimums.
The whiskey must contain at least 60% rye grain, with at least 75% of all grains used being grown by Pennsylvania farmers to be considered Pennsylvania Rye Whiskey. That grain-sourcing requirement is significant. It creates a direct economic link between the spirit and Pennsylvania agriculture, ensuring that distillers who want to carry the official designation are also supporting the state's farming communities.
Beyond the grain bill, the specifications get even more precise. The whiskey must be sweet-mashed, reflecting historic Pennsylvania production techniques. The whiskey must be entered into the barrel at no higher than 110 proof, to preserve the full-bodied character that is traditional to Pennsylvania rye. Finally, it must be mashed, fermented, distilled, aged and bottled entirely within the boundaries of the Commonwealth.
Those three technical requirements — sweet mash, low barrel entry proof, and cradle-to-bottle production within Pennsylvania — collectively define what separates genuine Monongahela-style rye from the broader American rye category. The federal standard for rye whiskey requires only 51% rye grain in the mash bill and distillation below 160 proof. Pennsylvania's proposed definition demands far more. These parameters honor both the heritage of Pennsylvania distilling, including support for local agriculture and small business, and the strengthening of the state's reputation for craftsmanship, Bartolotta said.
Bipartisan Support in a Divided Capitol
In an era when Pennsylvania's legislature struggles to agree on much of anything, Senate Bill 1248 moved through with unusual harmony. Senate Bill 1248 has bipartisan support with co-sponsors from across the state — including Republican state Sen. Devlin Robinson of western Allegheny County and Democratic state Sen. Lindsey Williams of the North Hills — as it received near unanimous support in the Senate's State Government Committee.
The bill was cosponsored by state Sens. Lindsey Williams, D-West View; Devlin Robinson, R-Bridgeville; Elder Vogel, R-New Sewickley; Michelle Brooks, R-Mercer County; and Steven Santarsiero, D-Bucks County. It passed the State Government Committee on a 10-1 vote. State Sen. Patrick Stefano, R-Fayette County, cast the lone dissenting vote.
Although the fiercely divided state government failed to pass a budget by the June 30 deadline, Republicans and Democrats came together to push Bartolotta's bill through the Senate committee with a near unanimous vote. That context matters. Pennsylvania rye whiskey apparently commands more consensus than tax policy. That alone says something about the depth of the spirit's cultural resonance in the region.
The Distillers Who Started It All
State legislation rarely originates inside a capitol building. This one started in Washington County, in a family-run distillery that has spent the better part of a decade trying to bring Monongahela rye back from the near-dead.
"I am thankful for my friends Jim and Ellen Hough of Liberty Pole Spirits in Washington County, along with a coalition of Pennsylvania rye whiskey distillers, who originally brought this initiative to my attention," Bartolotta said. Liberty Pole Spirits is a family owned and operated craft whiskey distillery started by Jim, Ellen, Rob and Kevin Hough in July 2016. The Houghs, longtime residents of Washington County, Pennsylvania, got the distilling bug in the early 2000s when Jim bought a 10-gallon still to learn the art of distilling.
Founded with a keen eye towards history, their main mission was to revitalize the Monongahela rye style that was completely decimated during the onset of Prohibition. That is no small ambition. Prohibition did not just close distilleries; it erased institutional knowledge, broke generational chains of craft, and wiped out the market infrastructure that had sustained American rye production for over 150 years. What Liberty Pole set out to do was archaeological as much as entrepreneurial.
Liberty Pole Spirits is a family owned and operated artisan distillery that focuses exclusively on producing pot distilled whiskeys from locally sourced heritage grains. Their whiskeys are mashed, fermented and double pot distilled on site. That commitment to the pot still matters in the context of Monongahela rye. The continuous column still that dominates modern American whiskey production is optimized for efficiency and consistency, but it strips out congeners and flavors that pot distillation preserves. The old Pennsylvania style was pot-distilled by necessity; Liberty Pole does it by conviction.
Their flagship rye reflects those choices in the glass. Crafted in the style of traditional Monongahela Rye whiskey — or "Old Monongahela" — that was once the spirit of choice in the U.S. and abroad, this whiskey is made from winter rye grown in Pennsylvania. Also important to them as a traditional Pennsylvania rye whiskey is that this whiskey does not contain even a single kernel of corn — there is no mistaking this product for bourbon. It is most definitely a bright and spicy rye.
The sensory details underscore just how distinct this style is from anything coming out of Kentucky or Indiana. The nose builds aromas of herbs such as rosemary, tarragon and anise along with citrusy lemon. In the background is brown sugar and spearmint. The palate is bright and spicy with notes of allspice and apricot. The finish is lingering with hints of freshly baked bread and white pepper. That profile — herbal, bright, structurally lean compared to bourbon — is exactly what made Monongahela rye the go-to base spirit for American bartenders and drinkers before corn-heavy Kentucky whiskey eclipsed it.
In true Monongahela Rye style, the whiskey is made with a high rye mash bill, sweet mashed, batch distilled, and aged at a low barrel entry proof of 108. They bottle it at that full barrel entry proof to preserve maximum flavor. That detail about barrel entry proof deserves attention. Most modern American whiskeys enter the barrel at or near the legal maximum of 125 proof — a practice that accelerates extraction but also dilutes the grain character with wood tannins. At 108 proof, Liberty Pole's rye enters the wood with more of its distillate character intact, which is precisely why old Pennsylvania ryes had such a distinctively grain-forward profile.
In 2024, they hit stride and succeeded in their mission with their first release of Old Monongahela Full Proof Rye Whiskey. The timing of that milestone — coinciding with the push toward official state recognition — is not entirely coincidental. A distillery that has spent nearly a decade proving the style is viable now has a legislative partner working to codify it.
A Coalition of Pennsylvania Craft Distillers
Liberty Pole may have sparked the legislative effort, but the push for Senate Bill 1248 was never just one distillery's project. Bartolotta said Liberty Pole Spirits in Washington County and other Pennsylvania rye whiskey distillers brought the initiative to her attention. Iron City Distilling was in the group advocating for the legislation, said Peter Katz, president of the East Deer distillery. "We're all in the guild together, pushing for that bill to go through," Katz said. "It's a statewide effort."
Jim and Ellen Hough of Liberty Pole Spirits traveled to Harrisburg to lend their support and promote its passage. Jim Hough said so many distillers in the state make their own version of Pennsylvania rye, so it was difficult to settle on an official recipe. That challenge — arriving at a definition that honors the historical style without excluding the range of legitimate interpretations — is one reason the bill's specifications deserve careful scrutiny. The parameters the legislation landed on are strict enough to be meaningful but broad enough to include the range of craft producers working in the Monongahela tradition.
"It felt like we were on to something that was a no-brainer, but it's great to see Harrisburg agree with us that something like this is important," Hough said. "This recognizes the role of agriculture and history. It's such a unique opportunity we have to recognize that."
Where Pennsylvania Would Stand Among States With Official Spirits
Most Americans are unaware that official state spirits exist at all. Before Pennsylvania enters the conversation, only two states had made such a designation — and both are geographically and historically adjacent to the American whiskey story.
Alabama and Virginia are the only other two states with official spirits. In Alabama, the state spirit is formally known as Conecuh Ridge Alabama Fine Whiskey, but is commonly called Clyde May's Whiskey as a nod to the famous Alabama bootlegger.
Designated by the Virginia Legislature in 2017, George Washington's Rye Whiskey is Virginia's state spirit. The whiskey is produced at Washington's home of Mount Vernon with a replica of the former president's own distillery. In the 1700s, Washington was one of the largest whiskey distillers in the country. Produced in small batches, the whiskey generally is only available for purchase in person at Mount Vernon.
The irony of Virginia claiming Washington's rye as its own state spirit — while Pennsylvania was the heartland of rye production during Washington's era — has not been lost on the distillers and historians backing Senate Bill 1248. Pennsylvania would join this very short list of states, but arguably with the strongest historical claim of any of them. There is no replication or nostalgia project involved here; Pennsylvania rye was the dominant American whiskey for a century, and the craft producers working in the Monongahela tradition today are its living successors.
The Whiskey Rebellion Festival and the Timing of History
The legislative calendar here was not accidental. The committee's approval came one week before the City of Washington's annual Whiskey Rebellion Festival in the 46th Senatorial District. The 1794 Whiskey Rebellion, the nation's first major tax protest after the adoption of the U.S. Constitution, took place in this region. The festival honors this history with reenactments, educational exhibits, live entertainment, local food vendors, and Pennsylvania-crafted spirits.
The annual festival in Washington, Pennsylvania, has kept the memory of the rebellion alive for decades. The Whiskey Rebellion that took place from 1791 to 1794 is recognized annually by the City of Washington during the city's Whiskey Rebellion Festival. Now, that cultural memory is being formalized at the state level in a way that could have real economic and reputational consequences for Pennsylvania's craft distilling sector.
The passage of the bill out of committee on June 30 coincides with this weekend's annual Whiskey Rebellion Festival in Washington, along with the 10th anniversary of Liberty Pole Spirits — a distillery that has operated through the full arc of the modern American craft whiskey boom and now finds itself at the center of a movement that is reshaping how the country understands its own whiskey heritage.
What Official Designation Means for the Industry
State spirit designations are not merely ceremonial. When Kentucky positioned bourbon as its defining product, that identity eventually became the backbone of a tourism economy, a marketing infrastructure, and a regulatory framework that gave Kentucky distillers a competitive advantage in the global marketplace. Pennsylvania's official designation, if it clears the full legislative process, could set a similar foundation.
The bill's grain-sourcing requirements are particularly notable from an agricultural economics perspective. Mandating that at least 75% of all grains come from Pennsylvania farms creates a direct pipeline between the distilling industry and the state's agricultural sector. For Pennsylvania grain farmers, official recognition of a specific regional whiskey style represents the kind of sustained, branded demand that few agricultural sectors are able to build. It is the same logic behind the explosion of Kentucky small-grain farming in service of the bourbon industry's recent premium tier expansion.
Liberty Pole Spirits is a family-owned, small batch distillery committed to producing premium craft whiskeys from locally sourced heritage grains in an American-made pot still. Located in the heart of the 1794 Whiskey Rebellion territory, the distillery is a warmly restored, turn-of-the-century building that offers a cozy spot to sip their spirits or seasonal cocktails. That kind of destination experience — history baked into the physical space, local grain in the glass — is exactly what draws whiskey tourists. Pennsylvania's craft distillers have been building this infrastructure quietly for years. An official state spirit designation could put them on the itinerary for American whiskey enthusiasts who have previously booked only Kentucky and Tennessee.
The Monongahela Style, Explained for the Serious Drinker
Most American whiskey drinkers have encountered rye in the form of high-corn, low-rye mashbills coming out of Indiana sourcing houses, or the more assertive Maryland-style ryes that carry a lighter grain profile. The Monongahela style is a different animal entirely, and understanding what makes it distinctive helps explain why Pennsylvania distillers and legislators alike are so invested in protecting its definition.
The sweet mash requirement in Senate Bill 1248 is one key differentiator. Unlike sour mash production — which uses a portion of spent mash from a previous distillation run to control fermentation and maintain consistency across batches — sweet mash starts fresh each time, using only water, grain, and yeast. The result is a more variable but potentially more expressive fermentation, one where the grain's own character has more room to assert itself. It is labor-intensive and less predictable, which is precisely why the industrial era largely abandoned it.
The low barrel entry proof requirement — no higher than 110 proof under the bill's definition — compounds the grain-forward character. When whiskey enters the barrel at lower proof, there is more ethanol-soluble flavor chemistry present in the distillate, and the wood interacts with a different composition of congeners than it would at higher proof. The resulting spirit tends to carry more of what the grain actually tasted like, rather than being dominated by oak extraction and vanilla-caramel congeners that mask grain character at higher entry proofs.
It is thrilling to see distilleries like Liberty Pole willing to eschew the temptation to maximize their proof gallon production and explore the time-old tradition of low barrel entry proof. This is the way whiskey was made pre-Prohibition and why ardent enthusiasts celebrate the return of such practices. That combination of sweet mash and low entry proof, both of which reduce efficiency and increase cost, is what historically set Pennsylvania rye apart — and what Senate Bill 1248 enshrines as the non-negotiable standard for the style.
The Long Road Ahead
Senate passage is a significant milestone, but Pennsylvania rye does not officially become the commonwealth's spirit until the bill clears the full legislative process, including the House of Representatives and the governor's signature. Given the bipartisan momentum the bill demonstrated in the Senate — passing with support from both sides of the aisle in a chamber that has struggled to find common ground on most things — there is reason for optimism. But Pennsylvania's legislative process is rarely straightforward, and the bill's advocates have learned not to count their barrels before they're filled.
Jim Hough's assessment of the political moment is measured but genuine. "It felt like we were on to something that was a no-brainer, but it's great to see Harrisburg agree with us that something like this is important. This recognizes the role of agriculture and history." That framing — agriculture and history, not just whiskey nostalgia — is probably the smartest way to carry this legislation through the final stages. It positions Pennsylvania rye not as a hobbyist cause but as a matter of economic development, cultural heritage, and agricultural identity.
For the whiskey community, the arc of this story is deeply satisfying. A spirit that was nearly erased by Prohibition, overshadowed by Kentucky bourbon's marketing apparatus for nearly a century, and kept alive mostly by historians, enthusiasts, and a handful of dedicated craft distillers in western Pennsylvania is now being written back into the official record. The Mingo Creek Society planted their liberty poles as symbols of defiance. Their modern heirs are doing something different — they're writing the old story into law.
