On Wednesday, November 19, 2025, the Bailliage of Greater Washington, D.C. gathered in Georgetown for a Société Mondiale du Vin evening that honored American craft in its most timeworn, time-tested form: bourbon. Our setting was The Fountain Inn—an intimate, candlelit refuge of rare spirits and quiet conversation—long associated with Georgetown’s early tavern history as Suter’s Tavern.
The evening’s guided tasting was led by Bourbon Concierge Craig Limon, whose approach blended scholarship with genuine enthusiasm. He didn’t simply introduce three rare vintage bourbons; he situated them in their eras—how they were made, why their profiles are difficult (or impossible) to recreate today, and what makes “ghost distillery” pours feel less like collectibles and more like living artifacts.
The tasting flight featured three standouts from a bygone age of distillation:
Executive Chef Greg Heitzig—recently named Best Chef in Washington by Washington City Paper’s Best of DC—paired these bourbons with a light seasonal menu that leaned into autumn’s warmth without ever becoming heavy. Each course felt built not just to “match” the spirits, but to echo them: texture answering texture, sweetness meeting spice, and savory depth pulling hidden notes out of the glass.
The opening dish, Honeynut Squash Velouté, arrived like early winter comfort refined. Maple crème fraîche added soft sweetness; quinoa offered a delicate crunch; and the honey-poached cranberry delivered the brightest moment on the spoon—a jeweled burst that lifted the entire bowl. Alongside the Old Crow Chessmen, the pairing read as classic Georgetown: caramel warmth, polished oak, and a gentle glide into the night.
The second course, Autumn Cavatelli, became the evening’s anchor. Smooth and velvety, it carried comfort with restraint, while candied walnuts added a tender, pleasing crunch. The pairing with Old Fitzgerald Prime (a celebrated wheated style) was the kind that makes you pause—not because it is clever, but because it is inevitable once you taste it.
The evening closed with Roasted Poulet Rouge served over celery root cream with smoked cabbage, toasted walnuts, and bacon—an autumn hearth translated into something elegant and composed. The Jim Beam Bicentennial decanter brought patient age and depth: vanilla, charred oak, and a resonance that held the last bites in quiet harmony.
In the end, this was exactly what a Mondiale evening should be: heritage given the respect it deserves, presented with discipline, and enjoyed in fellowship. Guests left with the distinct feeling that the past had been invited to the table—not as nostalgia, but as something you could actually taste.