Utah Stories

Beehive Distilling

“See that spot on my hand?” Chris asks, pointing to the worn red area on his palm. “That’s from pushing corks,” he explains. The corks Chris pushes are the stoppers on the bottles of gin he and his distilling com padres are handcrafting at Beehive Distilling. With their relatively recent introduction of Jack Rabbit Gin,…

|


beehive gin Chris Barlow
Chris Barlow

“See that spot on my hand?” Chris asks, pointing to the worn red area on his palm. “That’s from pushing corks,” he explains. The corks Chris pushes are the stoppers on the bottles of gin he and his distilling com padres are handcrafting at Beehive Distilling. With their relatively recent introduction of Jack Rabbit Gin, partners Chris Barlow, Erik Ostling and Matt Aller have broken a 140-year distilling dry spell in Utah.

The Salt Lake City trio initially formed their friendship through years of professional experience in design and advertising, so, when they decided to follow through with the idea of teaming up to produce liquor, they chose a spirit that would allow them to exercise their collective imagination. “We like to design things,” Chris says. “We could have made vodka, but that’s flavorless and tasteless, and then what would be our goal? To make something more flavorless and tasteless?” To these creatives, gin was their fresh canvas. “The art, skill and fun,” Chris says, “comes from adding to the blank slate.”

Making Jack Rabbit Gin mixes nature with ingenuity. The process begins by adding plant-based ingredients to grain alcohol. “The sky’s the limit for the number of botanicals you can use,” Erik notes, the number of recipe permutations mind-boggling. After months of “ginspirational” experimentation, they finalized their formula. “We chose seven botanicals,” Chris explains, “because often, less is more.” Four botanicals are steeped in the base alcohol, and then run through the still, where vaporization infuses the batch with rose petals, sage and lemon peels. “With the simplicity of the formula,” Erik explains, “you can taste each element more distinctly.”

The three friends manage the entire process. Chris does most of the distilling, and Matt and Erik come in to bottle, packaging 50-60 cases in a day. Being new to the booze biz, they initially had only a guesstimate of projected sales. Their first month, they sold more cases of their hand-produced spirits than anticipated, and sales have continued to grow as Utahans discover the sophisticated complexity of this locally-produced pleasure.

Beehive Distilling commands a market niche not only in that it is Utah’s only craft-distiller of gin, but also because of the right-place, right-time aspect of offering a locally-generated product. “Our timing is great,” Eric notes in reference to the trend of consumers spending locally. “Our gin mixes better than any other gin out there,”Matt maintains, “and if you have the opportunity to buy something local, it doesn’t make any sense to buy from a big corporation.”

ground juniper berries for gin
Ground Juniper Berries Used in Gin
beehive distillery
Beehive Distillery


Join our newsletter.
Stay informed.


  • Artist Kate Kilpatrick Brings Utah’s History to Life Through Murals

    “I think we’re all interconnected; as individuals as well as societies,” Kilpatrick notes. Her work showcases those connections exuberantly, and whatever scale she’s working on, you can bet that in terms of energy and spirit, she’s painting large.


  • Why Most People Stay Stuck in Business and What It Takes to Move Forward

    Every so often, you meet an immigrant who came here with almost nothing and managed to build something exceptional.

    Prakash Shah is the kind of man who has spent enough time around risk that he no longer treats it like an interruption.

    Today, he works in business brokerage and advisory, helping owners sell companies, helping buyers decide whether they should step in, and, when the fit is right, helping connect those buyers with private equity. He works in a world of valuations, leverage, due diligence, and hard questions that most people would rather postpone. He also operates in Utah real estate and has built a career around seeing value before it is obvious to everyone else. That is who he is now. What makes him interesting is how early that instinct started to form, and how little his life resembles the way most Americans are raised to think about comfort, career, and security.

    He grew up in Nepal in a boarding school system that would feel severe to many Americans. He was an only child, yet he saw his parents only twice a year for twelve straight years, until high school graduation. He lived inside routine. He shared space with boys from different social classes and different family circumstances. The school was structured enough that money did not buy you any special standing once you were inside. Everyone followed the same rules. Everyone was subject to the same discipline. In his case, it was an army school. Everything was measured. Everything was scheduled. In that kind of environment, you do not build your life around preference. You build it around adaptation.

    That contrast matters.

    A lot of American children are raised to search for what fits them. What are you passionate about? What do you enjoy? What feels right? Those are not bad questions, but they can create a habit of waiting for life to align itself before action begins. Prakash learned something else much earlier. He learned that life often does not align itself first. You enter the room as it is, you deal with the people in it, and you figure out how to function without making your comfort the center of every decision. He said that one of the biggest lessons from those years was tolerance, the ability to live with people from all walks of life and genuinely learn to get along with them. That is not a soft value. In business, it turns into resilience. In negotiation, it turns into patience. In career terms, it turns into range.

    When he came to the United States over 25 years ago, he did not arrive with the kind of runway that allows for a prolonged identity search. He came with two suitcases and enough money for one semester. He went to Hunter College in New York City, then to NYIT near Central Park, studying media and then media and technology management. He also studied psychology. Those details matter because they show something about his mind. He was interested in people before he built a career around deals. Even then, what attracted him was not technical prestige. It was understanding motives, behavior, and how people reveal themselves.

    But New York is merciless toward vague ambition. It demands payment in rent, transit, food, and time.

    Prakash worked constantly. He took multiple jobs. He paid tuition, paid rent, and skipped most of what Americans imagine as college life. There were no romantic years of drifting from café to concert to self-discovery. He talked about not having the luxury of dates, travel, or finding himself. He was working. Even laundry was not a small detail. In New York, he pointed out, you do not just throw clothes in a machine at home. You haul them to the laundromat, count quarters, and measure what is necessary. He also described distraction in a way that most native-born Americans probably do not think about. For immigrants, distraction is not always pleasure. Sometimes distraction is the constant pressure of competing needs. Tuition or rent. Food or savings. A better coat or another month of making do. He was not romanticizing the struggle. He was describing the arithmetic of it.

    That arithmetic did not make him cautious. If anything, it did the opposite.

    While in college, he had the option of safer analytical work. Instead, he took a sales job with Time Warner Cable that sent him into the South Bronx from 6 p.m. to 10 p.m. to knock on doors. He is not a physically imposing man. He knew exactly what kind of neighborhoods he was walking into. He described apartment buildings where people kept pit bulls, where tension was normal, where one mistake in tone or timing could end a conversation immediately. For most people, that kind of job would have been something to survive and forget. For him, it became a school in human behavior. “It’s not about talking… it’s about listening,” he said.

    One story from that period says almost everything about how he operates. He knocked on a door one night around 8:45 and found himself facing a huge man with a gun on the table, pit bulls nearby, and a half-eaten pizza in front of him. It had all the ingredients of a very bad scene.

    Continue reading and support independent Utah journalism with a purchase of Utah Stories (Digital + Print) or 3 month free trial (Digital).


  • Ancient Pyramid Discovered in Sugar House Park, Salt Lake City

    A Salt Lake City resident says he may have uncovered what he believes to be a buried structure beneath a well-known hill in Sugar House Park, raising questions that have drawn both curiosity and skepticism.


  • Utah Fits All Scholarship Applications Open Through April 30 for K–12 Students

    Utah families have more learning paths than ever and, increasingly, more ways to make those paths affordable. This spring, the Utah Fits All Scholarship opened  for new family applications on April 1, and the application window stays open for one month. The program is a public K–12 scholarship that provides $4,000 to $8,000 per student,…