Wine X Staff
Wine X Online Edition
Ah, Sugarland Distillery in Gatlinburg, Tennessee—where moonshine isn’t just a drink, it’s a dare. This is the spot where the air is as thick with kitsch as it is with the scent of distilled rebellion. Here, nestled among the tourist traps that define Gatlinburg, Sugarland stands as a temple to the almighty grain (and fruit, and nut, and whatever else they decide to throw into the still). Let’s take a stumble through their offerings, shall we?
Five will get you Twelve No that’s not hillbilly prison code a crisp fiver will get you 12 shots that are ironically in what ap
pears to be a communion cup Go figure You’ll crowd around a round table like Smoky Mountain knights, with a Wine X approved snarky master hostess as the chairman of the evening. “I’m here to get your F up!” Is how ours greeted us Truth in advertising, Baaaaaybeeee!
First up on this drunken carousel is the Peanut Butter and Jelly “No Shine.” Before you start lamenting the desecration of your beloved childhood sandwich, take a moment. This isn’t just nostalgia in a bottle; it’s a Frankenstein’s monster of flavor that somehow walks the line between “What the heck?” and “Why the heck not?” The aroma slaps you with peanut butter like an uncapped jar in a grocery store aisle brawl. The jelly? Oh, it’s there, lurking in the background like the shy kid at the dance, waiting for its moment to shine. Or not shine, as the case may be. It’s weirdly delightful, like discovering that socks with sandals somehow became fashionable. It’s a middle finger to the concept of “too much,” and frankly, it’s the kind of madness we could all use a sip of now and then.
Then there’s the “Appalachian Apple Pie Shine,” which is less like stepping into grandma’s kitchen and more like crashing a Thanksgiving dinner where the apple pie decided to get tipsy. It’s as American as, well, apple pie, but with enough alcohol to remind you that you’re definitely not at the kids’ table anymore. The smell? Imagine an apple pie and a cinnamon stick had a love child that went on to win a prize at a county fair. That first taste is like diving face-first into that pie, only to find out the filling is boozy enough to singe your eyebrows. It’s comfort food with a kick, a woolen sweater with a static shock, nostalgia with a twist of “whoa there, Nelly.”
Sugarland Distillery, with its flagrant disregard for convention, turns every sip into a story, every bottle into a badge of honor 
(or dishonor, depending on your morning-after perspective). The Peanut Butter and Jelly “No Shine” and “Appalachian Apple Pie Shine” are like two fingers raised proudly against the sky, a salute to the mad scientists of spirits who look at a grocery aisle and see a cocktail menu.
So, if your idea of a good time involves a little bit of “what the hell did I just drink?” then Sugarland Distillery is your kind of place. It’s a reminder that in the grand tapestry of American drinking culture, sometimes the threads that stand out the most are the ones that went a bit rogue. It’s a celebration of the strange, a toast to the audacious, and a hearty cheers to the next morning’s “I swear I’m never drinking again” promises. Bottoms up, y’all!
