EAST LANSING, Mich. (AP) — Kris Berglund, thefather of Michigan’s distilling industry, was on a
talking jag: theetymology of Swedish surnames, Finnish road signs, the family farm hisowns in Illinois corn
country. He’d flown across six time zones the daybefore. His head hurt. It was, he pointed out as he cracked
a beer,after five o’clock in Sweden. In East Lansing, it wasn’t quite noon.Berglundis in his mid-50s, gray
bearded and blue eyed, the founder orco-founder of a half-dozen companies. That’s alongside his
academicappointments at Michigan State University, where he is a universitydistinguished professor of food
science and chemical engineering, and atLuleå University of Technology on the Swedish coast not far below
theArctic Circle. He is the head of MSU’s Artisan Distilling Program, theauthor of a popular (and free)
practical guide for small distilleries,and "our only guru in the business," Bill Owens, president
of theAmerican Distilling Institute, told the Lansing State Journal ( http://on.lsj.com/17Hv52f ).Berglund wears his guru
status lightly. What he exudes is enthusiasm."We’regoing to have 24 seats and another five to eight at
the bar." The topicof conversation had shifted. He was talking about his latest project.Theventure is
called Red Cedar Spirits. It’s a partnership with UncleJohn’s Fruit House Winery that brings together the
St. Johns cidermill’s distilling license, MSU’s German-made stills and Berglund’sexpertise. It operates out
of former public works building that wasshuttered by the city of East Lansing in 2004 and purchased by
Berglundand his wife, Ingham County commissioner Dianne Holman, in 2011 fortheir biochemical company,
Working Bugs.MSU’s distillingequipment now occupies space on the building’s south end. There is a newwooden
bar in a former garage bay. If inspections go well, the garagewill be a public tasting room. Bottles of rye
whiskey, apple brandy andvodka already lined a shelf on the wall behind the bar.Berglund said he wants the
tasting room to be "almost like a portal on this industry for Michigan."He wants the company to
continue the work of incubating it.Microdistilleriesare thriving around the county, but their success in
Michigan has a lotto do with a slow dismantling of the barriers to entry. A distillinglicense in the early
1990s cost $10,000. In 1996, in part as a favor tothe state’s fruit farmers, the Legislature created a new
class oflicense that allowed winemakers to distill fruit brandies. That licensecost $100 a year.In 2008,
Berglund approached then-state Rep.Barb Byrum with a proposal to create a small distilling license thatwould
allow distillers to make whatever sort of spirits they cared toand allow sales on site. It was, Byrum said,
a clear opportunity toboost agritourism in the state.The Legislature passed it withnear unanimity. The fact
that the economic impact of the change wasestimated at $400 million probably didn’t hurt.There were nosmall
distilleries in the state in 1996. There were perhaps 10 a decadelater. Now there are more than 30 license
holders, though not all ofthem are selling their wares, and others still in the process ofstarting up.J.P.
Jerome is one of those. He grew up in Bath,worked for a while after college at Bell’s Brewery near
Kalamazoo, cameto MSU for a Ph.D. in microbiology. Along the way, he and six friendsfrom childhood decided
to start a distillery.They found a formerslaughterhouse near Detroit’s Eastern Market. Barrels of whiskey
withthe Detroit City Distillery logo are stacked up now in Berglund’swarehouse."The craft beer industry
has obviously undergone acrazy revolution in the past 20-plus years," Jerome said. "The hope
andthe logical next step in the process would be that maybe spirits aregoing to undergo the same
revolution."And, just as microbreweriesintroduced many to styles of beer beyond American lagers and
pilsners,he sees the potential to create a market for "some very different uniquespirits made with
local ingredients."To get to that point, would-be distillers have to clear at least one particularly
vexing regulatory hurdle.Unlikebeer and wine, there is no amount of distilled spirits that can be
madelegally without a license, and, to get a license, it’s first necessaryto set up a fully operational
distillery.That’s one of the otherplaces where Berglund comes in. Through a previous partnership
withMichigan Brewing Company in Webberville and now through Red CedarSpirits, he has helped to incubate new
distilleries, offering recipetesting and contract distilling, practical advice and
old-fashionedencouragement."He allowed me to develop a product, to fine tunethat product and to test
the market for that product as we were in theprocess of opening up our own brick-and-mortar place,"
said RifinoValentine, who began selling Valentine Vodka in 2009 and moved into aproduction facility in
Ferndale in 2011. "That, as well as a lot ofemotional support."But Berglund’s other key
contribution has beenas a teacher, both to students at Michigan State (which is starting abeverage science
and technology specialization this fall) and in theweekend seminars he teaches multiple times a year here,
at CornellUniversity in New York and in Sweden.As he drank his beer andtalked about Red Cedar Spirits’
future, there was a class of 40-plusstudents in a room down the hall listening to a lecture on
fermentationfrom a fourth-generation German still maker. There were Michigan farmersand chemists and
engineers, students from Indiana and New York andQuebec.He’s taught those seminars for 16 years
now."I’ve thought for at least 14 years that people would stop coming," he said.They haven’t
yet.___Information from: Lansing State Journal, http://www.lansingstatejournal.comCopyright
2013 The Associated Press.