Tastes

In the summer of 2020, I’d purchased the Clonakilty Bordeaux Cask Strength 9 Year Single Grain we had available in local stores as a FW&GS exclusive. At the time, I was into these bottles, since such bottlings generally provide a unique experience. While I don’t have that bottle to taste anymore and make a comparison, what was most notable was that it felt fresh on the tongue. The proof was 112 yet not overwhelming, and it was both creamy and fruity, like strawberries in cream. The finish was peppery, and overall, it was the type of bottle I was glad to have partaken of, but not sure I would purchase again. It did make me curious about Clonakilty, a word I really like and a brand I’d never encountered before. The stores here were carrying two other bottlings: the Port Cask Finished Irish and a Single Grain Bordeaux Cask Finish at 87 proof. They were both $52.99 and for a while I wasn’t sure I wanted to drop that much on what might turn out to be, despite my enjoyment of the Cask Strength version of the latter, an experiment. But when the Port Cask dropped by $10 on clearance, I nabbed it straight away, and nosing it now, I have no regrets on spending $42 for a bottle of this quality. The port cask influence is immediately apparent. The nose is rich with fruit, wine with a lingering trace of something vegetal, grassy and fresh and not at all clashing with the fruit but balanced with it, augmenting. Oddly, I want to say it’s the faint trace of fresh cut asparagus. I’m not sure if that will put people off, but the nose is definitely one of the finer and more unique noses I’ve ever experienced in an Irish whisky. Proceeding to the palate, we find the same fruit flavors, mostly berry but also the red apple one expects with an Irish whisky as well as an edge of cereal grain, which, to an extent, makes me think of a higher quality Tullamore D.E.W., although this doesn’t taste like Tully 12, which is the only higher quality Tully I’ve yet had. There’s a slight edge of bite from the alcohol that I don’t actually remember being there with the cask strength Clonality, which is odd and which is also preventing me from ranking this slightly higher than I am. I’m thinking that the bite is coming from the bottle’s youth (unlike the Cask Strength version, this one doesn't carry an age statement), though while this might not be as smooth as something like Knappogue Castle 12, I find it more interesting, and would likely opt for another bottle of Clonakilty over venturing there again. The finish is moderate in length, and the alcohol bite on the tongue evolves into black pepper with the fruit fading. In the end, I’m not sure I’m going to rush out to purchase the regular strength Bordeaux Cask bottling anytime soon (unless it goes on clearance), but this certainly has me wondering if I should maybe dip into the Cask Strength version again, with a view on seeing if I missed something the last time around. Might sound funny but even in the two years since I’ve had that, I feel like my ability to tease out flavors and pinpoint an overall sense of my enjoyment of whisky has evolved, and with 80 or so bottles still available online, it does have me wondering if maybe the Cask Strength Bordeaux Finished version wasn’t a hidden gem or diamond in the rough that I should try picking up again.

At some point, along my whisky journey, I developed an unconscious (or maybe not so unconscious) bias against blended Scotch. I started off with them. Among my first whiskies were Johnnie Walker, Dewar's, Cutty Sark. But over the years, I started to think of them as lesser. Less interesting, lower quality, the clumsy young sibling of single malts. Of course, once in a while, I'd still dip into the well. A blended Scotch would come along to rouse my interest: the Dewar's run finished Scotch, Dewar's 21 Double Double. But these are, admittedly, still rare. Generally, if I'm going to opt for a blend, it has to come highly recommended. I hear Johnnie Walker Green is good, but I somehow always have another preference if I'm going to drop $65, so I haven't gone there yet. Where I have gone, in the past year, are Sheep Dip Islay and Compass Box Peat Monster. What these two have in common are that they both appeared in recent years on the Whisky Advocate Top 20. What Sheep Dip Islay had going for it is that, while the SRP on a 750 mL bottle is also $65, they were selling 200 mL bottles at the FW&GS for $5. If you do the math there, that meant I was able to procure 800 mL for $20. Had it remained in stock and stayed at that price, it would have become a mainstay on my shelf, not necessarily because it was high quality: frankly, it had a Laphroaig nose with a Cutty Sark menthol/citrus palate (the Laphroaig nose I could go for; the Cutty not so much), but it was an amazing dram at $20 for 800 mL. I have to imagine, however, that I'm not the only one who caught on to this. It sold out within relative quickness, but has not returned. Compass Box Peat Monster, however, is something I had higher expectations for. After all, it wears its sources on its sleeve, Laphroaig and Caol Ila, and Laphroaig is my go-to Islay in terms of the land where price meets quality. That said, I've seen two reviews from sippers I follow on this site, where they compared this Compass Box pour to Laphroaig 16 and Ardbeg 10 and found the Compass Box wanting. I'm not really sure comparing it to a Laphroaig 16 is fair, but the Ardbeg 10 is apt. After all, both that and the Peat Monster go for between $50-60 a pop (Laphroaig 10 is around the same price), so the challenge here is really on the Peat Monster. And I ask you Compass Box: why should I spend my money on your blend rather than those single malts? The answer is quite simple: you shouldn't. Now I'll tell you two things having said that: 1. I would never turn this down if offered and 2. I don't regret that I bought a bottle of this. Is it good? Yes. The expert review is apt. The aroma is fruit and smoke, a brininess. It's got a pleasant nose. On the tongue, it reminded me of the Kilchoman Machir Bay Cask Strength I had earlier this year, if you were to water that down significantly. The expert review refers to the fruit on the palate as raspberries, but it reminds me more of the freeze dried strawberries you get in Special K. I like that she mentions ham because I'd have never thought of it, but it's there (or did she plant the idea?) and it's something of a honey-glazed ham. I'm not sure I agree about the finish being medicinal, but being a Laphroaig drinker, that might just be because Laphroaig by itself is so much more medicinal that when present in a blend I find that medicinal quality muted, but there might be a slight touch of the band aid at the end. Overall, it's solid (far, far superior to Sheep Dip) and I could probably sit and sip it all night long, but I'm not sure it's all that distinctive (if it distinguishes itself at all, it's not because of the titular peat but because of the sweetness that's not generally as prevalent in most Islay single malts). Which brings me back to addressing my original point: at some point, in the whisky journey, blended Scotches become less appealing because they don't provide a distinctive enough experience. They are, if done right, so smooth that you can drink them without noticing them. And that's fine as far as that goes. If the bottle were $10 cheaper, I could see me opting for this over certain single malts in the $45-$50 range: Fiddich, Livet, even the Highland Park 12 Year. But at $57, I'm picking up Ardbeg or Laphroaig 10 every time (or well, every time other than the one time I picked up this). As I mentioned, I've seen others compare this to Laphroaig 16 and Ardbeg 10 (which are both going to make the Peat Monster pale in comparison). The other bottle of Islay I have open right now is Ardbeg 5. So how does this hold up? Well, if you're looking for smooth, this is the better whisky. It might even be slightly more complex. It's certainly got the rough edges rounded off, but that's always been what I've liked about the Beastie (which I've mentioned in plenty of reviews here): those rough edges. They're what makes the Beastie unique. Though that said, if this were in the price range of Beastie ($37 when it's on sale), I would pick up Peat Monster fairly frequently. But at $58, I can't bring myself to put this on a regular rotation. Then again, I can't get this around me anyway. It was a special Jersey Shore pickup, and the stores down there have plenty I'm aching to try when I get back down there. So farewell Peat Monster. When the bottles done, we'll be parting ways for greener pastures.

You could sip this neat I'm told. As Chris Rock also said, "You can drive a car with your feet, that don't make it a good idea." This is one of those whiskies I've wanted to try for a while. At $25 dollars a bottle on sale (it's $30 at regular price) experimenting with it isn't going to hurt the wallet too badly, but it took me a while to get around to it. I like wheated bourbon, so I assumed I liked what wheat brings to whiskey, thus, why wouldn't I like Bernheim Original 7 Year? And perhaps hype plays a large role in my disappointment. A 91 expert review that details it tasting like toast, honey, vanilla. Sounds good to me. A community score of 3.6, too. Let's roll the dice! The problem is that this tastes like Old Forester 86 Proof bourbon. For someone just getting into whisky, this might be a great gateway. The nose is nice. It's exactly what the expert reviewer here says it would be: vanilla, honey, toast. The palate follows with much of the same plus a little alcohol bite on what's a mid-range finish. So, it's fine. Bernheim might have been my favorite thing in the world five years ago had I encountered it then, but much like I said in my review of Old Forester 86, palates change. You encounter better whiskey, and whiskies that might serve as perfectly acceptable to a novice become muted, bland. So...a 91? Really? Usually I can write tomes about whisky, but here, I'm at a loss for anything interesting to say. I think you can get the jist of this if you know my previous reviews and you see how short this one is. I do like it a little better than the Old Forester 86. But a rating of 91 strikes me as overreach for what I'm sensing is going to end up being a mixer. But hey, my dad gifted me a jar of Luxardo cherries last night, so I'm thinking tomorrow is going to be Manhattan night at the Django household. I should probably look into upping my vermouth game. Any suggestions on that? Also, I'm still curious about Woodford's Wheat Whisky? Has anyone tried that?

If we're talking bourbon, Maker's Mark was my first love. When I first discovered whisky and I bought a bottle of bourbon, it was most often Evan Williams Black or Ezra Brooks, which were both in the $12 range at the time. Maker's was my splurge bottle, my celebratory sip, the one I reached for when I was shooting the moon, when I was feeling like a big spender and willing to drop $25 on a bottle. It was the early aughts, I was just out of college and making an entry level salary, so this was what I could afford when I was having company. I liked Knob Creek, too, don't get me wrong, but Knob, if memory serves, was a little more expensive back then (still is), and there was something about unspooling the red wax seal from around the bottle top that felt...classy? I don't know if Maker's had a cask strength back then. Whenever the prices exceeded $30 my eyes glazed over, but if they did, it was certainly too dear back then for my wallet. Cut to 2019, pre-pandemic and a bottle of Maker's CS still gave me pause at $60. I had a kid in daycare and that was where most of my "disposable" income went. And thus, I had to be certain a bottle would be really good if I was going to pay about $50. Of course, it helped that the Cask Strength went on clearance and dropped to $52. I snapped one up then, but now, Maker's Cask Strength has become that unicorn among whiskies: that's right, for some reason it dropped to $40 a bottle in the past year. I'm not sure why. If I bothered looking it up I'm sure I could find out. But conjecture is sometimes more fun, right? My presumption here is that, now that they're doing their Cask Series at $60 and the 46 Cask Strength is also $60, they maybe couldn't justify charging $60 for the regular brand cask strength? I, of course, know that price often reflects availability more than quality, so I'm assuming it's not that all the sudden their distiller started tasting these and thinking, "That's terrible! Oh well, we'll put it out anyway and only charge $40." At $40, this is a great deal. Even though I haven't purchased a bottle of the standard Maker's in half a decade, my love hasn't necessarily flagged. And at the end of the day, I'll take this CS offering over their 46 CS any day. That said, it's not going to rock your work in the way that FAE 01 or FAE 02 might, but at $40, I've stocked up on this and it makes a decent sipper. The nose is sweet but not cloying, with cherry, vanilla, oak and hints of tobacco. I tend to think of that as fairly standard for Maker's when it comes to their aroma. On the palate, you can taste the wood with the vanilla and cherry sweetness on the backend with peppery spice on the long finish. The bottle I have opened now is Batch 21-01, and it's pretty similar to the last I had, which I think may have been 20-04. I picked up a bottle of 21-02 and 21-04 as well and am kicking around picking up another next time this goes on sale (usually it's $36.99 on sale where I am). If you like Maker's, this is well worth it. I'd also advise picking this up if you're a fan of Rebel. I tend to favor this, but the profile is similar to Rebel Distiller's Edition and the prices are identical. It does make me wonder what I might have thought of this if I could have tasted it back then. Would it have been too intense for me? I certainly wasn't used to Cask Strength in that day and age. Or would it have blown my mind and have been the best thing I'd ever tasted at that time? It doesn't blow my mind now, but then again, it doesn't have too. It simply has to satisfy, and it does that in spades.

Where do you fall on the chill filtered vs. non-chill filtered debate? I haven't had a chance to test it until now. People seemed to be losing their minds recently when it was announced that the Glendronach 12 was moving to chill filtratation with future bottlings, snapping up all the current non-chill filtered version as quickly as they could, and I couldn't help thinking, does it make that big of a difference? George Dickel Rye even flaunts it on their bottle with a big ol' Chill Filtered descriptor across the side of its label. And then, if you read up on it, reviewers seem surprised, "Wow, it's chill filtered, but it's still pretty good!?" Did you expect chill filtration to make it bad? The whole thing, I suppose, is that the chill filtration process removes flavor? But does it? I've made no secret in my tasting of Old Tub, that I love Old Tub. Whenever Beam releases a new product, it tends to go for $16.99 in Pennsylvania. I'm not sure why, whether it's the liquor control board in our state just buys in bulk and passes the savings on to us or whatever else it could be. But God bless that $16.99 price tag. For as middling as the result of Jim Beam Double Oak might be, it was still a decent bourbon at $16.99. Jim Beam Bonded was also $16.99 and I bought something like 10 bottles, and now, Old Tub is $16.99 and I'm snapping that up periodically because...well, why wouldn't you at that price? To have a drinkable bottled-in-bond bourbon around for that price, you might as well. You can drink it straight, drop an ice cube in, mix with it. Hell, I even use it for cooking and baking, and for that price, I don't really give a damn. It's versatile. Hell, I even just tried mixing it with other bourbons to see what might happen, dropping a half shot of Maker's Mark Cask Strength in to blend my own bourbon, never mind that I don't know jack about blending (and given that Maker's Mark Cask Strength is now $40, I can mess around with those bottles too). I was just curious to see what would happen, and while it wasn't necessarily anything to write home about....the experiment was interesting. Anyway, back to my main point, when I reviewed Old Tub, I pointed out that I've had Old Tub side-by-side with Jim Beam Bonded, and I wasn't sure if they were the same product or not. A few commenters pointed out that the difference might be chill filtration and sure enough, while Old Tub points out that it's non-chill filtered, Bonded says nothing about whether it is or it isn't on the bottle, which I'm assuming means that it is, though honestly, wouldn't we like some honesty, wouldn't it be better if they pulled that baller move that Dickel does with their rye and just announced it and were like, "Yeah, we're chill filtered, but we're good anyway." With all that out of the way, I haven't opened a bottle of Jim Beam Bonded since I joined this platform, so I haven't reviewed it. I'm down to two unopened bottles of it, since I opened this one (I have three of Old Tub), and I'm going to say that if this vs. Old Tub is indicative of the debate between chill filtration and non-chill filtration, my opinion is that it doesn't make a lick of difference. It's likely one of those things that's either all in your mine or such a fine distinction that only 1-2% of the population has the refinement in their sense of taste to tell the difference. Honestly, they don't taste any different to me. If you're looking for tasting notes then, I'll reiterate my Old Tub review: you get oak and nuttiness, vanilla and caramel. I waxed poetic on Old Tub about how it reminded me of being young and going to the fair or a carnival. This is the same. It's not super complex, but it's still really enjoyable and tasty and robust, and even if this were $24.99, which I believe is the SRP in most states, I think it punches its weight against other bourbons that cost that much. But hey, I'm getting it for $16.99, so I'm not really thinking about Larceny or Maker's Mark or even Knob 9, which when it's on sale is $29.99 and is probably a lot better than this. Anyway, I don't see why you wouldn't buy this if you're living in PA. And I don't think if you're living outside the state you should really balk either. It's just a good budget bourbon. I have to give it the same rating I gave Old Tub. The major difference between the two is I kind of like the bottle design of Bonded better.

Price matters! I’ve alluded to this in previous tastings here, but with this one, I’m going to state it flat out. It’s a pet peeve of mine to pretend that you’re tasting your whisky without regard to price. Really? Are you a Kardashian? Are you Drake? Are you loaded enough to make it rain every time you go out to buy your spirits? You tip the checkout person? Or are you one of the Masterpiece Theater aesthetes who are above the fray of common earthly concerns that occupy the rest of us like money? “No, we don’t use money in Heaven!” “Oh yeah, that’s right. I keep forgetting. Comes in pretty handy down here, bub!” If you don’t believe me, if you don’t disagree, go on over to the Ardbeg Wee Beastie reviews. Look at the star ratings and compare those ratings to what people report they paid. You’ll see that those who paid OVER $50 HATE the Wee Beast. Those who paid UNDER $45 tend to love it. I’m not even sure this is a conscious thing. It might be what we call today unconscious bias, but if you get a great deal on even a decent tasting whisky, the whisky just tastes better. Am I wrong? Obviously, the reason I bring this up here, is that Sazerac is probably the best deal you can get in the whisky world if we’re going by the intersection of price and quality. For $28, you get a relatively complex, extremely tasty rye that you can drink straight, on the rocks, or use in mixing, and you don’t feel guilty about employing it in any of those ways. It’s arguable, of course, that Eagle Rare 10 Year is a better deal, given that whisky's age. Both can be relatively difficult to find depending where you are, but where I am, Eagle Rare is more difficult to locate, and since I prefer rye to bourbon, I’m going with Sazerac, but if you think Eagle Rare, I’m not going to go off on you the way I might on Mr. “All Me.” “Got everything, I got everything/I cannot complain, I cannot/I don't even know how much I really made, I forgot, it's a lot…” Sorry, I zoned out there for a second. I'm probably coming off a little stronger here than I intend. But if you’re not Drake, there’s the distinctive possibility you’re posturing. Still, you know, if you do this whole "price doesn't matter" thing and we’re buddies on this site, don’t take it to heart too much; we’re cool. I’ll concede that if I didn’t have a mortgage and two kids to raise (i.e., if I were a young single man, living on my own, with a decent paying job), I might spend more on whisky, but I doubt even then that I wouldn’t look for whiskies that fall on the intersecting point of the graph where great price meets great taste, and this is it. Sazerac Rye is the dictionary definition of that. Are there better ryes out there? Of course. Not below $50, not that I’ve tasted. And certainly not below $30. There are others in this category that are acceptable, drinkable, but nothing I’d call good. So what do we have here? The predominant aromas are spice and sweetness. Cherry vanilla with cinnamon and nutmeg with an underlying earthiness I’ve tried to place but have always had trouble putting my finger on. Maybe it’s less cinnamon powder and more cinnamon stick, Ceylon cinnamon in particular, which has a distinctive smell, quite different from that plastic container of McCormick spice you keep on the rack to make pie. There’s also an underlying hint of orange peel that comes right on the end of that whiff after you’ve let the glass open up a little. Honestly, I wish they made a Sazerac candle because the nose is pleasant in a way where you wouldn’t mind the entire room smelling of it. On the palate it’s spice forward, the same mix of nutmeg and cinnamon with a little bit of black pepper on the tongue. It’s got a cola feel, which when mixed with the vanilla and cherry tang reminds me of Cherry Coke. There might be a trace of bergamot mixed in, but it’s not too strong, so those who don’t favor the black tea sometimes present in rye can still indulge because it’s not too prevalent or overpowering. The sweetness then fades as the sip hits the back of the tongue and returns to the spice profile with the pepper becoming predominant and lingering just long enough for you to think, damn that’s fine. This is my second bottle, and it’s proven just as satisfying as the first. Given the price, I plan to pick one up whenever I see it on the shelves of my FW&GS because this is one of those that you can mix in to tastings of much dearer bottles and you won’t miss a step. There are supply chain problems currently, so it’s disappeared but I don’t expect that to be for long, and when it returns, I might buy in bulk just to be on the safe side.

Buying this whiskey felt like a toss of the dice, and I knew that going in. I have several sites whose reviews I read before deciding to make a purchase usually. These are Distiller, Breaking Bourbon, Whisky Advocate, and Whiskycast. I also sometimes watch videos like the Whisky Vault. The problem with Maker's 46 Cask Strength is that, although it got decent numbers, from Stephanie Moreno's 86 here ("It's not super complex, but it gets the job done. Throw a rock in there and enjoy") to a Above Average on Breaking Bourbon to a B+ (that rating qualifies by a final line: "The whole experience is a little flat and short of dazzling...") on Drinkhacker, no reviewer seemed to be particularly enthusiastic about it other than the 93/100 it garnered on Whiskycast (where they seemed to be reviewing the version only available at the distillery), those good numbers were undercut by lukewarm sentiments and there seemed no consensus. And generally when I'm spending $60+ I want consensus that I'm going to have a great time drinking a particular spirit. But still, it's Maker's Mark, and I like the regular 46 and I like the straight Cask Strength, and I like the most recent Wood Finishing FAE-02, so I figured I'd pick this up and see how I felt about it. Generally, after I've done my research, I try to forget the specifics of what I've read in other reviews to experience the glass through my own senses and come to my own conclusions. If there's one thing aggregating reviews from different sites will tell you, there's not really anything resembling objectivity when it comes to the sense of taste. One will taste prunes where the other tastes chocolate. One tastes honeysuckle where the other gets lavender. A rule of thumb I let guide me though: the more specific the flavors listed, the more subjective it is. This is why I tend to derive a more accurate picture of what to expect from broader descriptives than specific ones. This might ruffle some feathers, but I don't get a lot out of the Baskin Robbins whisky review (and if you're not catching the reference, it's where you list all the 32 flavors you're tasting and don't say anything else about the whisky). I prefer to know things like, is it darker and richer with flavors of toffee, caramel and chocolate, or is it woodier with broad oak, maybe a little leathery, touch of vanilla. Is it fruity and what kind of fruits are you tasting. Please give me three to five aromas and flavors, not ten to twelve that all taste vaguely similar. And then, if you can, tell me what other whiskies it reminds you of. (And by the way, I get it, there are probably plenty of people who encounter my reviews and wonder why I have to write five paragraphs when a Baskin Robbins review is short and sweet and straight to the point. Different strokes, right?) That said, the neck pour of my bottle of Maker's 46 Cask Strength was just short of awful. The nose was initially muddled with the alcohol coming through more than anything else, with subtle aromas of something artificial underneath that vaguely resembled plastic. It reminded of my first experience with Rebel Distiller's Edition in the summer, and if I hadn't had the experience with that bottle where, over time, with oxidation, it became much better than the initial experience, I would have felt like I'd wasted $60 here. So I shot it back (I wasn't going to waste it), poured another, and let it sit in the glass a while. Now the second glass wasn't world's better. The air wasn't going to work miracles in a matter of minutes, but aromas and flavors at least rose to the surface that somewhat resembled what I've come to expect from a cask strength wheated whisky. That said, this has a darker richer profile as far bourbons go. The nose is fudge, coffee, tobacco leaf, oak, and maybe a trace of leather and spice. On the palate it's both spicy and sweet, adding mostly nutmeg and cinnamon to the coffee/chocolate aromas with a faint touch of cherry (water accentuates the fruit and adds a hint of toffee). The finish is almost entirely cinnamon spice, so much so that I'd even describe this as a cinnamon bomb. Overall it doesn't hold much of a candle to the FAE 02, and I'd even say that I prefer their standard Cask Strength bottling to the 46. I mentioned Rebel Distiller's Edition above, and it's strikingly similar in my memory to that, but while this 46 is likely a better whisky, I'm not sure it's $20 better, as the SRP on Rebel Distiller's is only $40. In the end, I find this drinkable, and I'll certainly finish the bottle, but it's underwhelming and isn't a well I'm likely to dip into again.

My favorite whiskies are peated Scotches. Ever since my first encounter with Ardbeg 10 at a Scotch tasting in 2005, I've been hooked. Even the lesser peated Scotches taste good to me, maybe not as good as finer unpeated Scotches, but I'll take a mediocre peated Scotch over a mediocre bourbon or Irish whiskey any day of the week. What is it about peat that gets me? I can't say. It's just my type. Teeling Blackpitts is a whiskey I've had my eye on since March when I read about it in Whisky Advocate. I also can't explain all the time why a certain bottle catches my eye, but in this case it's fairly clear that it was the word "peated," simple as that. I've only had one other peated Irish, Connemara, and that was purchased special order by a then-current-now-ex girlfriend for an Irish-specific tasting back in 2006. I remember I liked it, but I tasted half a dozen Irish whiskies that night, so specifics are blurry, and since it's not available in my area, I haven't had it again. In any case, when Teeling Blackpitts appeared as Advocate's #3 of 2021 on their top 20, I decided it was time, so I walked to the Wine & Spirits and picked up a bottle. I was struck by the presentation: nice packaging, the cylinder sleek and dark black like the name, concealing a squat, stout bottle, the glass equivalent of a perfect rugby build. On the nose the peat is subtle, elegant, though I only imagine that's the case if you're a seasoned peat drinker. It might take you by surprise and overwhelm you if this is your first experience with it, as it's a weaker than Islay but a little stronger than non-Islay peated Scotches. Underlying the peat aroma, however, are the traditional Irish aromas of apple, cereal grain, vanilla, and honey, which taken together, create a floral perfume that, while not reinventing the wheel, is quite satisfying, with the peat eventually fading into the background in favor of the fruit. On the palate, the fruit and peat comingle to produce the flavor of barbeque fruit with an almost tropical edge, as though the apple has transmuted to pineapple. It's reminiscent, I'd say, of adding pineapple cubes to a shish kebab. On the finish of the first few sips, this barbeque fruit flavor fades slowly to a pated salinity that reminds me of Laphroaig 10 at the end, but by the end of the glass, this had softened into ginger and pepper spices. Overall, while I'm not sure this will convert the peated Scotch fans to become peated Irish fans, it's a nice change of pace, more reminiscent overall of Highland Park or Jura than Ardbeg or Laphroaig. If you're not into peat yet, but have an interest this could serve as a gateway, but at $75, I'm having trouble giving that full, whole-hearted recommendation. It's not that I think I paid too much; it's more that I think this is just on the outer cusp of being priced more than it's worth. I'm curious about other Teeling products, but I'm not sure shelling out $65 is worth it on their single pot still when you can get either Redbreast or Green Spot for the same price. Anyone have any thoughts on that?

My parents eat dinner late in the evening. Sometimes, when I go over to watch football there instead of having my dad come to my place, and they're cooking dinner, and my dad hands me a glass of whisky, I'll get the aroma of whatever they're cooking in the Glencairn glass. Last night, they were making turkey croquettes, and my first thought on nosing this New Riff Single Barrel Barrel Proof Rye was...is this a meaty rye? I've never had a meaty rye before that. But it wasn't meaty, I was just smelling the turkey in my glass. I bought this bottle for my dad for his birthday a few weeks ago, and he cracked it last night while we watched the Eagles beat the Washington Football Team (are they going with that permanently, how hard is it to choose a new name?). My dad had admired the Single Barrel Bourbon of New Riff's when I'd opened that on my birthday, so I figured this rye would be a good gift, and while the bourbon, being high rye, tasted of rye...the rye tastes like a bourbon! Kidding! No, this rye is even more rye than most ryes. It's all the things you think of when you think rye, spiciness, herbal, mint, and this is where I find sometimes descriptors fail. If it tastes like other ryes, what makes this one special enough to warrant four stars out of five? How do you say it's better than most when the flavor profile is standard but perhaps more intense? Actually, as I nosed it, I got the addition of rich caramel, which isn't always present in rye. I can think of one, Lot 40, that has it, but most others don't. This is a deeper richer caramel than Lot 40, however, likely because of both proof and recipe. There's a minty pine comingling on the palate along with the spice, which serves as a delightful mixture. Having tasted this so close to Wild Turkey Rare Breed Rye, I can compare and contrast, and this isn't so heavy with the black tea flavor the Wild Turkey carries, nor is the citrus zest as strong in the New Riff. (I didn't notice a citrus flavor at all; my dad did...different palates, right?) The missing tea flavor could be a plus if you don't like tea, a minus if you do, and that might influence your decision, given both bottles are in a similar price range. I'd say I favor the Wild Turkey myself, but this runs a close second, with a slightly shorter finish. I'd call it medium to Wild Turkey's long, though I suppose when you're talking finish there's always a comparative element. Actually, the best comparison here is with the Knob Creek Single Barrel Rye store picks and not the Rare Breed. It's been a few months since I had one of the Knob Creeks, but I feel these are commensurate on both nose and palate. If you like one, I'd venture to say you'd like the other. You can't go wrong at this proof and this price usually. The Knob store picks used to be $5 cheaper and now the New Riff is $5 cheaper since Knob increased the price. Let's just hope they don't get in a pissing contest where each continues to inch up the tag on us...

We all have them, don't we? The whiskey version of the one that got away. Bottles that catch your eye and rouse your curiosity but that you don't pick up because there's something else you want more, something for which you've already set your whisky budget the month aside. We put that second bottle off for a month or two, figuring we'll get to it, and when it finally moves to the top of the list, its gone! That was Jefferson's Rye Cognac Cask Finish for me. Part of the reason it wasn't at the top of my list was that, from everything I'd read, Jefferson's bourbon quality doesn't match up with its price; however, having read also that this is the first rye they've produced in years, and having an affinity for various cask finishes, especially when it comes to rye (see, e.g., my tastings of Hudson Back Room Deal and Sagamore Spirits Tequila Cask Finished Rye), this Jefferson's seemed right up my alley. And while, in the spring, the shelves in my area were well-stocked, by the time I got around to looking to purchase it, it was gone. Cut to a few weeks ago, I stopped into a FW&GS I don't usually frequent, after getting hit with my booster shot, and I figured that since I'd been a big boy and hadn't flinched when they jabbed me, I deserved a treat, and there the Jefferson's was, back from "Out of Stock." And of course, there's that green wax seal above the label that just shouts, Christmas whisky, even if this isn't technically a Christmas whisky. So, I figured it was about time, and before it disappeared again, maybe for good this time, I would get it. And... The rye spice mingles nicely on the nose with the cognac influence, which introduces a soft floral sweetness of lavender-infused ginger bread. There's an undercurrent of freshness as well, like laundry that's been dried on the line outside on a clement summer's day. It's subtle and enjoyable and not at all overwhelming. In fact, I'd say the aroma is muted, not in a bad way but in a way that has you going back to tease out exactly what it is you're smelling. On the palate, the floral notes continue, but we're also introduced to a wood note, though it's not oak so much as cedar. It's similar to the note in Glenfiddich 14 that I find to be soapy (so be forewarned, that note can hit all types of people in all types of different ways; I've seen reviews raving about the 14 and I could hardly finish the bottle) but here it stops just short of soapiness and remains enjoyable. The flavors, like the nose are subtle (actually much more subtle than any cask finished rye I've had), but the mouthfeel is a little wanting and watery. The finish, when it comes, is short and peppery, and doesn't necessarily prove the most memorable part of the experience (the most memorable part is probably the nose). This Jefferson's Rye isn't quite as satisfying to me as the Sagamore Tequila finished Rye nor is it as interesting as an experiment as the Back Room Deal (though of the two, this one is closer to Back Room Deal's flavor profile, which is odd because Back Room Deal is finished in barrels that held peated scotch). I'd say it's worth the whirl at $60 if you're already into cask finished rye, but if you're not, I think you can skip it and you're not missing out on much. Overall, it's a solid entry, though I think you could knock $10 off the price to make it cost what it's actually worth, but then again, price isn't a measure of quality most of the time so much as availability. Not bad, but I'd say it falls a quarter-star shy of truly spread-the-word exciting.