Yesterday, the LA Times. Today, Garden & Gun.
My one and only up close experience with moonshine came in college, when my friend Kim brought a bottle of something boozy her grandfather made at home to a vaguely sorority-related event. If I remember correctly - and believe me, I might not remember this correctly - it tasted exactly how I expected moonshine to taste: kind of like rubbing alcohol smells.
Somehow, I'm guessing that the fancy moonshine (oxymoron?) that's turning up at bars in LA these days is a bit more refined than the stuff Kim's granddad concocted in his backyard shed or his bathtub or wherever. Not to knock his distilling skills. He was just ahead of his time, I'm sure.