Tastes

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.

It's the most wonderful time of the year! I'm talking, of course, about the time of the office holiday party. Of course, the office holiday party isn't quite what it once was. Early in my career, the office would rent a boat and sail up and down the Delaware River for three hours while inside we imbibed and threw down, had a dance off, talked shit, you know, what you do at office parties. Somewhere around the mid-2010s, our company stopped throwing money at the event. The last in-person party was in a Union Hall in South Philly, and not like, any bustling part of South Philly, but the warehouse district that became desolate around Sunday. Walking there, I thought, I hope I can get a ride back from someone, and when I arrived and someone asked me what I thought of the venue, I told them: this looks like the kind of place the mob brings people to wack them. But as long as the booze flows freely, I'm not complaining too much. We're not talking anything top shelf here, naturally, but most blended whiskies with ice taste similar and are acceptable, and I generally would rock the Dewar's over the course of an evening. Heading into this year, we had a last minute makeshift office party on a hotel rooftop, and while there were two beers and three wines on the menu, it wasn't open bar, but I still might have gone if it weren't for the announcement of Omicron. That said, to get there, I'd either have to take public transit both ways or drive, and as neither was an option, I sat this year out. As a consolation, our branch decided to do a virtual happy hour today, with a trivia game and raffle prizes, where we were encouraged to drink. Now in case the mention of Dewar's on the rocks didn't clue you in, I tend to play it safe when drinking around coworkers, especially online where there's a record of exchanges in chat, so I stick to the 80 proof, which will generally keep you mellow throughout the night and allow you to avoid saying anything that will have you questioning going back in and facing your coworkers on Monday morning until you're at least around your fifth drink. And since I was buying my own this year, I decided to go with Jura 10, which aside from being the perfect juxtaposition between price and quality, is also oddly similar in flavor profile to Dewar's. Now, having said that, Jura 10 is a lot better than Dewar's. Similar does not mean "the same." And while no one's going to do cartwheels about Dewar's, it has a honeyed smoky vanilla profile that I won't complain about either. Sure, it's a little watery and faint, but it's also priced accordingly. But enough about Dewar's, how's the Jura? Delicious, thanks. I mean, at $40 a bottle, you can't really go wrong with this. The nose has just the faintest trace of peat smoke. I mean, really light. Like so light you almost might not noticed it's there. I imagine there are heavy peat fans who won't like this because it's not peaty enough, and people who don't like peat at all who will be turned off by even the faintest trace, but on the nose this is reminiscent of Highland Park 12. Following that light smoke there are also hints of honey, apple and maybe the slightest zest of citrus underlying it all. It won't rock your world, but it's pleasant enough that you could drink it all evening. On the palate, you get honey again with vanilla and a butter/shortbread cookie flavor. Like I said, it reminds me a little of Dewar's but even though the two are the same proof, this has stronger flavors and feels less watery. It's overall not terribly dissimilar to the Dewar's Double Double 21, and I'm also getting what tastes like a little marmalade on the tongue as the full palate transitions into the finish. The finish doesn't last terribly long, but what's there is a candied ginger that hits the spot with that slight edge of spiciness. It's odd because three years ago, the stores around here had this on clearance and I picked it up and I didn't particularly like it then. I remember thinking the flavor profile in the bottle I got was muddled. Has the brand changed in recent years? Or have I? Ah, that age-old philosophical question. Maybe it's a little bit of both, with the two of us meeting at exactly the right time to rekindle the relationship. This is one I'm likely to pick up whenever it's on sale. A good daily drink. I thoroughly approve.

Do you ever wish you had the ability to wave your hand over a bottle and magically refill it? If you only had that power for one bottle, what would it be? For me, it might be this one. That doesn't mean this is the best whisky I've ever had. But it may be the most satisfying. The best one I could see myself turning to frequently. Possibly the best rye I've ever tasted. There's that, and it's relative rarity. When I got this, pickings were slim. There were six bottles left in my county, and I haven't seen it since then. I opened this on Thanksgiving. The night was mostly made of turkey dinner and wine. But my family was coming to our house. My wife was cooking. We were entertaining, and I figured I'd offer a Wild Turkey to go with the turkey, even if only my dad took me up on it. And it was good. I knew that then. But I didn't write a tasting because I wanted to wait. I wanted to let it simmer, I wanted to savor. Last week, I wrote up a tasting on Glenlivet Caribbean Rum Cask, and I mentioned my tasting of that came after a tasting of this Rare Breed. I've also talked of come-down whiskies in my review tastings, whiskies you turn to after you've had your best, whiskies of high but lesser quality you turn to so that you don't depleted your finest stock. Well, some whiskies are come-down whiskies and some are opening acts, and I'd say that Glenlivet is more an opening act. How do I know? I had it tonight before the Rare Breed instead of after, and I enjoyed it more than I did last week, when I wrote up my tasting. Last week the Glenlivet after Rare Breed was like seeing Procol Harum after a set by Zeppelin. This week, having the Glenlivet first and then the Rare Breed was like seeing the Foo Fighters open before seeing Nirvana with a resurrected Kurt Cobain. You feel me? I flipped the script, and between the acts, I had two squares of 85% Lindt's dark chocolate. So, I'm not saying that enhanced the experience, but it might have. I nursed the whiskies tonight. I'll tell you that up front. And this one, this Rare Breed Rye was one I savored with every whiff, every sip. On the nose was rye spice, milk chocolate, mint, and the mixture at times reminded me of peppermint patties with maybe a touch of candied orange. As we move to the palate the rye spice and mint continued mixing with touches of orange peel, lemon menthol, and pine. The finish is long and peppery and spicy, and exactly what you're looking for on a long winter's night. And oh my god, if I could I'd make this my infinite cask. I haven't indulged in too much of the 101 Rye yet. My dad had a bottle and I tasted it, but it was at the tail end, and I'm not sure it was a fair representation. Does the 101 compare to this at all? Overall, the evening was great. On top of this, we had the Christmas tree lit, and as I nursed this, I watched the first Christmas Chronicles movie on Netflix with my kids. I love my kids and I love Christmas, and honestly, you can judge me how you will, but I love Kurt Russell (he really throws himself into the role of Santa), seeing as my formative years were spent watching John Carpenter films and Overboard on HBO. The Rare Breed was really just the cherry on top of that ice cream sunday, and oh, what a topping it was.

Compulsively drinkable was my wife's verdict. (She might not have put it in those words, exactly). I cracked this today, thinking it would be a nice warm bottle to have on the back porch, watching football with my dad, fire pit going. But first, he and I had a glass of Wild Turkey Rare Breed Rye. So, we were coming down off something that's...very good to say the least. And I didn't expect this to match up. I should say that at first. I should also say, I'm not really a Glenlivet fan. So why did I buy this one? Well, I like the rum cask finish. I've enjoyed it on Pike Creek Canadian. I've enjoyed it with Tully XO. And I figured I would enjoy it even with Glenlivet. So, I had two glasses after the Wild Turkey, and I thought it was decent enough. Light bodied, the nose faint, spiced, molasses, the palate similar, honeyed from the scotch. Honestly if this were just a scotch I would complain about the youth. The rum cask finish is what makes it. And then, after those two, we poured an Ardbeg Wee Beastie, and after the Wee Beastie, we came back to this. And it was a better comedown whisky coming back to it after the Wee Beastie than it was coming off the Rare Breed Rye. Why is that? I don't know. Is it because the Wild Turkey is so superior to the others that nothing could compare? That seems likely. But maybe the Wee Beastie also served as a better primer for whatever reason one flavor profile serves as a better primer for another flavor profile. I like that this is 80 proof. Like I've said, it's light. No one should ever mistake this for a great whisky. But you can pretty much sip this one, if you have any tolerance, all evening without finding yourself in too deep a hole, and sometimes, that's what you want. Do I find it as compulsively drinkable as my wife? Honestly, it is a little bland. Even with the rum finish. But it adds enough sweetness that it goes well with sugar cookies, it goes well after a meal. It won't rock your world, but it was $35. And it was better than the Pike Creek to me because the Pike Creek has an odd artificial mint note on the finish. I'd probably recommend Tully XO over this, at the same price, if you're looking for a rum finish. But all in all, this isn't bad for the price point. Yo-ho-ho, and a finish of rum! If anything this highlights how a finish can make a mediocre product drinkable. Compulsively or not.

Bland - (adj.) lacking strong features or characteristics and therefore uninteresting; (of food or drink) mild or insipid; (of a person or behavior) showing no strong emotion; dull or unremarkable. It's funny how the palate can change and develop over the years, isn't it. When I was in my mid-20s, back around 2006/2007, and I had nothing better to do on a Saturday or Sunday (i.e., when I wasn't heading out looking for adventure or to hook up), I liked nothing better than to buy a bottle of cheap bourbon, hit Tower Records for a stack of used DVDs, and sit in my apartment getting drunk and watching movies. I remember one particular Sunday, back when my tolerance was strong, putting away 3/4 of a bottle of Evan Williams Black Label while viewing all three entries in Sam Raimi's Spider-man trilogy. I didn't know much about whisky, other than I liked the way it made me feel, the way it loosened my tongue, made me social, and that night, after the Evan Williams and Spider-man, my friend Rachel called to see if I wanted to go out for quizzo and go out I did. I was even coherent for most of the evening. These days I wouldn't try anything of the sort. Whereas, back then, I could make it into work the next day after something like that, these days I'd have to call out and spend the morning in bed, nursing a hangover. But I also don't drink whisky with the express purpose of getting drunk in the way I did back then. Sometimes, however, I like to revisit the bottles and brands of choice from those days, just to see if any of them hold up, particularly in the "budget bourbon" category. Old Forester is a brand I haven't explored beyond the 86 and the 1870 batch. And both are the products of my yesteryear drinking. I remember one night about a decade ago, perhaps a year after I got married and a year before my first child was born, while I was in the process of tapering off my 20s behavior, I bought a bottle of this 86 and was blown away. I mean, man I thought it was good. I was also likely drinking it with ice, as I was wont to do back in those days when the quality of my whiskies was questionable. The 1870 Old Forester came a few months later when it went on clearance and I got that bottle for the same price as the 86 and up until that time, it was probably the best bourbon I'd ever had, and that one, I remember drinking without any ice. So, for the sake of nostalgia, I decided to pick up 86 the other day. My expectations weren't high. I've had a lot of better bourbon since then. But I figure that, even if it wasn't great, I could keep it around for those nights where I didn't want the proof high and where I didn't want to think too much about the whisky. You know, the night I decided to go back and watch The Matrix Trilogy after my family had turned in and I was looking to relive my glory days in a more moderate form. But even with expectations lowered, I was still disappointed to discover that this was...tepid was the first word that came to mind. It wasn't the exact word I was looking for. It was like the cool porridge or too small bed for Goldilocks. But it was...bland. I guess that's the best way to describe this. The nose is primarily vanilla and pine with maybe a tobacco hint. Not bad. Just bland. The palate is vanilla and pine and maybe another sweetness I can't identify. Really by this point, I was starting to think of the air freshener in my old friend Pete's old 1984 Ford Escort that we tooled around in back when we were in high school. Not bad. Gets you where you're going. Just...bland. And the finish is mostly pepper and alcohol. It doesn't burn. If you're seasoned on barrel proof alcohols, the proof is too low for a burn, but it's definitely got a youth to it that I would say is a half step past white whisky. Not horrible. Just...bland. And so my reaction here? Well, I actually think this is better than my worst reviewed bourbon here, that terrible Elijah Craig Single Barrel Select from Circle Liquors in Somers Point, but only by a step. I couldn't have expected much from this. I was hoping to be surprised. Sometimes you shouldn't revisit that city from your youth where you tore it up that weekend. This was the whisky version of that for me. ...I'll still probably finish the bottle at some point.

Sometimes I read about people who have bottles open for a year, sometimes two. They taste slowly, take a nip here or there, comment on how the bottle has evolved over time with oxidation. Sometimes the oxidation changes the whisky's character in interesting ways, sometimes the bottle collapses completely. This always amazes me. In my view, it takes discipline to keep a bottle around that long. I always worry if I have something I really like and it's open too long the bottle will collapse and ruin my enjoyment (here I'm thinking Lot 40, which initially tasted like cherries and salted caramels, but after two or three weeks began tasting like sweat socks). That said, the longest a bottle lasts in my household is about two month at most. Unless it's bad from the get-go. Then it can sit in the back of my cabinet until hell freezes over. Sometimes, I love a whisky so much that I write a tasting review of it right after I've opened it (Laphroaig Cairdeas 2021 PX Cask). Sometimes I'll even write up a whisky that's only half-decent right away if I have what I'd like to think are interesting thoughts (Evan Williams 1789). But sometimes it takes until the end of the bottle to weigh in. And that's been the case with both the New Riff bottles I've sampled (BiB Rye and this Single Barrel Barrel Proof Bourbon). I'm not sure why that is other than neither carried with them a good backstory, a reason for me to get excited and sit down and tap out a review. This is not to say that either was a bad whisky. In fact, I gave the BiB rye 3.75 stars, and while I think it may be a tad overpriced, I'd buy it again. As for the single barrel bourbon, it was about time my number came up with a single barrel. The last two I've had have been underwhelming at best (Rebel Distiller's) and bland at worst (Elijah Craig). So, when I opened this, my expectations were low enough that even a 3-star whisky would have been a win. I opened this on my birthday, almost a month ago, and I gave my dad the first glass. When I did, he thought I'd given him a rye. And this a bourbon, at least in the barrel I got, that drinks more like a rye than a bourbon. The nose is heavy with prominent baking spices and citrus that make for a perfect end-of-year autumnal holiday pour. Imagine, if you will, sitting by the fire, next to a decorated Christmas tree drinking this. That! That! It's perfect for that! In fact, it's the kind of nose where, if you're into that, you could sit there smelling it for a while before you experience the urge to sip. The tune doesn't change much on the palate, but at barrel proof, it's nice and robust with flavor, and it's certainly none too sweet the way most high-corn or high-wheat bourbons are, but whatever sweetness is present is of vanilla and caramel, which compliments the baking spice and citrus nicely. The finish is strong and while maybe not the longest I've ever had sticks around just long enough for the enjoyment to last. Now given how close to a rye the flavor profile is, I'm curious as to how the Single Barrel Barrel Proof Rye is going to be, but that'll come in time. My dad's birthday is coming up, and since I always try to get him something special, I managed to pick up a bottle of that to give him. Of course, now that I've mentioned that, I can only hope he's not following my reviews here so I didn't ruin the surprise, and yet, I somehow don't think he'd mind it too much to find out that's coming his way a few days before I gift it to him. And of course, I should point out that while I thought $44.99 was a bit steep for the BiB Rye, $49.99 for the barrel proof bourbon is perfect. This is one I would definitely buy again at that value, but unfortunately, it seems to have gone out of stock near me, and I have to imagine once they realize what they have here, the price will go up accordingly, so I'd place this firmly in the pick it up if you see it camp.

Would you buy this for 50 bucks? Could you? Would you give a f#$K? Ah, nothing like a little Dr. Seuss with your whisky, right? But it's a good question, is it not? Eagle Rare is $30 a bottle SRP. People seem to be crazy about it. In our Fine Wine & Good Spirits stores, whenever stock shows up, say 10 bottles, it's gone within 2-3 hours. Why? Is it really that good? My theory is that there are two factors at work here. Possibly three. The first factor is that Eagle Rare sits at the perfect juncture of quality and pricing. Yes, this is good bourbon. It's got a 10 year age statement (which to my mind was going to be the third factor, but I guess since I'm mentioning it now, let's make it the second). But the marketing ploy (if we can call it a marketing ploy) of making it bear out its name in being relatively rare is the coup. After all, if you think about it, Knob just added the 9 Year age statement back to its bourbon, and Knob 9 is $35, which is only a $5 hike over this, and if you're asking me, there's no discernible drop in quality between this and Knob, but people just don't seem quite as crazy about the Knob. Could it be that it's making itself too available? When I first got a bottle of Eagle Rare, it was fall 2019. I managed to nab one in a hole in the wall Wine & Spirits in Philly, a store that had the last 6 bottles in all of Pennsylvania. It was in the back, in a box. "How many do you want?" I had never even considered buying more than one bottle and hording it. "Just the one." But I didn't open it until the following summer, and I thought it was quite good at the time. I went through it in about two weeks. And then it was out of print. Gone. It popped up as an online only sale. Sold out in a few hours. Gone again. Then it popped up in a store 4 miles from me, and I jumped into my car and drove like a madman to get it again. This time, it wasn't on the shelves either. I looked, frantic. Then, one of the clerks was coming out with two bottles in hand. I knew from the site, they had 4 in stock. "Are those for anyone?" I asked. "Yeah, I'm bringing them out for someone who called ahead. But we have two more in back. You can only buy 2. There's a limit. You want these?" "Yeah." Then a few weeks later, I got to the theater early when seeing Dune with a friend, and there was a FW&GS in the shopping center. I popped in, and lo and behold, more Eagle Rare. I still hadn't opened either of the other two, but I bought two more. And this past weekend, I opened it, expecting the same experience I had last summer, a solid bourbon I could go through in two weeks, something really tasty. And all I could think....? This is the bourbon I drove like a maniac to get? I mean, that's hyperbole. I was going the speed limit and obeying traffic signals. I was really only a maniac in my mind because I was scared they were going to sell out. I wanted this! I needed it! But did I? If it was a fifty dollar whisky, would I have felt the need for it? If it were forty? No, part of the appeal here is that this is top of the line at the price point of $30. If they charged any more, I think you'd see interest fall off. And frankly, after this experience, I can't help thinking that I'm probably going to stick with the Knob 9 as my go-to in this price range. Which is not to say, this isn't good. It's sweet, but not too corny, which is always the danger with bourbons. In fact, if you were to blind this and hand it to me and tell me it was a bourbon finished in wine casks, I wouldn't doubt you. To that end, it reminds me a bit of Legent, which was also good and is in this price range, but didn't particularly wow me. The nose is nice but not particularly spectacular. There's berries, a bit of chocolate, something that, after a week of being open smells earthy: if it's oak its not prominent, and might even be likened to water-soaked wood that hasn't started to rot yet, the plank of the deck of a ship you find washed up on the side of a river. The palate again isn't cloying, but soft. For as much as I made fun of the idea of mouthfeel being a selling point in my tasting of Maker's FAE 02, Eagle Rare has a nice soft mouthfeel and the flavor is again of chocolate and berries, maybe a bit of baking spice, with a finished that fades fairly quickly. I've read a few reviews of this that mention it's easy to find, but I guess that all depends on where you live. The community rating, as I write this, has this up around 4.03, which strikes me as high for what this is, unless, of course, you are taking cost into account. But then, if you're taking cost into account, there are a number of equally good $30 bourbons out there, that aren't getting this much love. I guess in the final analysis, I'd say, buy it if it's in the store in front of you as it was when I wandered in before the movie. Don't hop in your car and drive with your hands clenched on the wheel to try to get the last bottle at your local store. And as the great hip-hop jester Flavor Flav once said, don't-don't-don't don't-don't-don't believe the hype. Because I'm pretty sure hype is what fuels the manic quest for this bottle; at least on the east coast, in regions where it is, indeed, rare.

One of those questions of less importance in August of 2020, our year of COVID, was, what are we going to do about football? I don't mean the league, of course. There was too much money to be lost. They were going to play regardless of pandemic. What I mean is, what were me and my dad going to do? Football is where we come together and bond. Football is something we've been getting together every Sunday to watch my whole adult life and most of my teenage years. For the most part, it started when I moved out of my parents' house and came home on Sundays to do laundry. Then, even when I bought my own house and got my own washer and dryer, I'd still go there on Sundays to watch. Football was when I'd visit and bring a bottle of whisky, and my pops and I would have a glass or two and watch. You might say that whisky and football were to my dad and me what peas and carrots were to Forrest Gump. But more importantly, football and whisky was also when my dad would get to talking, the masculine facade upheld by the violent sport in front of us and the spirits we imbibed, we could allow ourselves to be a bit more vulnerable in conversation and talk to each other about our lives in ways we wouldn't otherwise. I'm sure there's a fella or two here who might be reading this who understands. Football wasn't just important because we cared about who won or lost, you feeling me? And the game was going to be on, even with COVID keeping us apart. So what were we to do? We were in different houses, in different pockets of quarantine. Would we FaceTime? Jump out of our seats when our team scored on camera, high five virtually? "Why don't you watch out on the back deck?" my wife suggested. "Really?" I said. "Yeah, we can move the TV out there, set it on the table, and since it's on Fox, you can hook up an antenna to get reception out there. Set the chairs up six feet apart. Drink your whisky." And so, beginning in September of 2020 (since the NFL skipped pre-season) this is exactly what we did. My wife and I would line up on either side of the flatscreen after we'd unhooked it, and bring it out to the back deck, set it up with the deck furniture in proper social distancing procedure, and my dad and I would watch the game. This season, of course, we're both vaccinated. My dad even got his booster last week, but I have kids and they're not vaccinated, and it's not super cold yet, even in the northeast, and so we're still doing it. I'm still bringing the tv out back, we're still huddled up, even as the temperatures drop. "Could we get a fire pit?" I asked my wife. "Yes." "This one looks good." "Yeah, it's all right, but I've done my research, this one's better." "Okay, let's do it." So now, my dad and I are gathered around a fire pit. And some nights, for the late game, 4:15, 4:30, my wife brings out dinner. And on those nights, she also sends my dad home with dinner for my mom. I understand that so far I haven't mentioned The Whistler PX I Love You at all. But I swear, everything I just told you matters. Do you recognize something? How amazing my wife is? Suggesting we watch out back? Helping me carry the tv out? Feeding not just me but my dad? Sending food home for my mom? Sometimes my wife joins us in watching the game. She doesn't like football all that much, but she likes whisky, and particularly, Irish whiskey. Do you see where this is going? I wanted to get her an Irish whisky to say thank you for looking out for us. Thank you for making this special ritual I have with my dad continue to happen even through a global pandemic. And so, I see The Whistler has made this whiskey called PX I Love You. Finished in sherry casks. And the labeling and marketing is just screaming, buy this as a present for someone you love. So I do. Around Saint Patrick's Day her boss bought her a bottle of Jameson Black Barrel and she liked having her own bottle, one that wasn't mine, one she didn't have to ask me, "Can I have some of this?" And so I figured, if she was going to join me and my dad around the fire pit she should have something special. And....is it special? Well...it's good. She cracked it open tonight and shared a glass with me over shoofly pie. And I certainly think it's good (the pie wasn't bad either). But I'm not sure I share the enthusiasm of the ten other reviewers here, so I suppose that means I was expecting a bit more from it. Oh, how can I put it? Although this is an Irish whiskey, I think anyone who's a Scotch lover might understand this: The Whistler PX I Love You drinks like a younger Highland Park 12 Year Viking Honor. The nose is strong with the sherry sweetness and smoke. Those are the two most prominent aromas. The smoke isn't particularly peaty, just smoke, and underlying this is a slight band aid aroma you sometimes get with Islay, and I'm not sure what it's doing in a single malt Irish whiskey. It's fine with me, since I like a little band aid note, but it was putting my wife off. In fact, I didn't comment on it until she mentioned those exact words, "Band Aid" and I was like, yes it's there (she also compared it to the Laphroaig Cairdeas 2020 which was finished in PX Sherry casks, but that's not really a fair comparison: "That one was so much smoother and more robust...."; "Yes dear, but it was 117 proof and cost twice what this bottle cost."). As for the palate, it follows the nose. You feel like there's something underneath the sweetness, and there is, and it's the Irish fruit and honey, but that Irish fruit and honey (good band name there; or maybe the title of a Van Morrison record) only comes on the back end with a moderate finish. Don't get me wrong, it's a good whiskey, but I think the problem that arises when I say it drinks like a young Highland Park 12 is that it's the same price as the Highland Park. My wife mentioned last night that she wouldn't mind if I picked her up a bottle of Green Spot for Christmas, since I'd shared my GS Montelena with her, but I'd already ordered this. Well, the bottle said what I wanted it to say, I love you, I appreciate you. I just sort of wish the liquid inside did the job of the packaging. Maybe I'll suggest an ice cube, maybe a little air will mellow the sweetness and turn it into something more interesting. Maybe I'll get her that bottle of Green Spot eventually. With gifts they say it's the thought that counts, with whiskey, it's the flavor. This is good; but given what I wanted to say, I was hoping for better than good. Not great mind you, just...better. Especially for the price.

I'd been tracking this one for weeks, the way a predator tracks its prey, the way the hunter picks up on the scent of its quarry and runs it to ground. Oh yes, as soon as I picked up the trail, I was on it. It had been in the coming soon section for weeks. And then one day, it was there, the mighty Laphroaig Cairdeas 2021 PX Cask in all its beauty and glory. So maybe it wasn't hunter/hunted so much as lover seeking his beloved. Sometimes, to our chagrin, we men confuse these things. But still, the whisky was going to be mine, oh yes, it would be mine. There were six bottles at the FW&GS store two and a half miles away, and since my wife had an appointment that morning and needed the car, I ran, with a backpack on my back, double-strapped to carry the bottle home, from my front door to the door of the Wine & Spirits. I arrived forty-five minutes after they opened and went straight for the scotch section, and behold!...it wasn't on the shelves yet. I pulled out my phone to bring up the picture, searched out an employee, and flashed the photo of what it was I sought. She went to the register, printed out the serial number and disappeared into the stockroom. Would she find it, return with it, my precious, oh my precious? Or would I come up empty? Would I have come all this way for nothing? But then, there she was, coming out of the swinging door, the gorgeous green and white cylinder in her hand with the red banner reading "Cask Strength" around its circumference. It was there, and it was now mine. All mine! I suppose I don't have to tell you here that I adore Laphroaig, perhaps out of all proportion. Yes, I love Ardbeg, too. But there's something about Laphroaig. It's like we belong together, like we're sole soul mates (although I guess we're not sole soul mates because a lot of others consider Laphroaig a whiskey soul mate as well). I'm giving this the highest rating of any whisky I've ever tasted and reviewed on this site, and I might be biased, but it feels deserving of this honor. I've never rated anything a 5, and there's a reason for that. 5 is the ideal, 5 is the unattainable, 5 is the whisky that likely doesn't exist in reality, the whisky whose experience is next-door to orgasmic. Do you know what I'm saying? Wait, I'm on a site devoted to the experience of drinking whisky: of course you do! I opened this a few weeks ago. My plan was to crack it on Halloween with my dad and my brother-in-law while we watched the Eagles pummel the Detroit Lions (not a mean feat, I mean no disrespect by this to Detroit because I feel for you, but every team pretty much looks like a championship team playing the Lions these day). Of course, given the description of my seeking this out, I think you might be able to guess that I couldn't wait, so I cracked it by myself, two days earlier. I'd had a bit of what these days we're calling an anxiety attack that day, so I figured I deserved something nice. And I have notes on that first experience, a post-it note with scribbled text all over it: "Earthy & Sweet. Loamy. Yes, peat, but it's beyond peat, it's much much earthier, mulch almost comes to mind, but like, tasty mulch." And it's true, this has the sweetness of the PX Casks, and the sweetness is well-balanced, but it's also perhaps the most earthy whisky I've ever tasted. I don't really know how Islay pulls it off. I mean, you read descriptions like tar and iodine in certain Islay descriptions and you wonder, how could someone ever want to drink that, but if you're an Islay fan, you know exactly why you'd want to drink it: you're not actually drinking tar or iodine or, in this case, Band-Aids, which is in among the mix on this finely balanced whisky. Your drinking a really good, finely crafty scotch that evokes those flavors and turns them into a smorgasbord, a delightfully intermingled aesthetic experience. Additional notes: "Another aroma it evokes is hash, oddly enough. My friends sometimes got it and smoked it in high school and the mulch mingling with the sweetness, which is a rich port-like sweetness, even though PX is sherry, is evoking hash for me. And of course, tasting notes don't often include illegal drugs, so it's an odd thing to bring up here and when I write this online, I have to make sure to note I'm not admitting to any illegal use myself (don't want the po-po knocking at my front door), but being in the vicinity of someone who used it, I know the scent or remember the scent and I think it's not an inapt comparison...." There's also something of new leather in the nose. Not old beaten and worn leather like that jacket you've had in your closet, but new leather like you'd smell if you went into a store that specializes primarily in leather. This is my third cask strength Islay with the first being the phenomenal Ardbeg Uigeadail and the next being the Kilchoman Machir Bay 2020 CS, which was lovely, but this Laphroaig really pushes it to the next level. The color alone, as soon as you pour it, is enough to get any scotch fans' engine revving because it's dark deep red, almost the color of a red ale, and it's just a thing of beauty. Now perhaps I should have begun there, but my admiration has my mind just floating, reeling off one compliment after another like the first time you encounter a really truly beautiful woman, and you realize she likes you back and it's okay to reel off compliments, and you just can't stop telling her how beautiful she is, you know? And so, this is next door to the orgasmic whisky I dream of rating a 5. This is possibly the finest whisky I've ever had. This is...a dream. And you can quote me on that. If you can find this, and you like Islay, pick it up right away. This is beyond a treat. This is playing the game on another level. It's enough to make me forget that I got caught in a thunderstorm the last mile home after I picked it up and had to sprint the rest of the way. This scotch is a reason to sprint. (P.S., it has a good mouthfeel too).

There's an old comedy bit by Dave Chappelle where he talks about how he likes to get high with white guys because when they get high, they only talk about other times that they got high ("dude, remember at Frank's last week? I was smashed man! two shots of Jager, tequila, four bong hits, man, beer, cheeseburger."). Whatever your thoughts on his comedy, it's applicable here, because in this entry, I'm going to talk about the last time I got really very drunk. It doesn't happen often. Generally speaking, I'm good at cutting myself off before we get there these days, but this past Sunday, it was both Halloween and NFL game day. So while my dad was coming over to watch the game, my brother-in-law was also coming over to watch the game and go trick 'r treating with my wife and my kids. I, on the other hand, was assigned the duty that night of handing out candy; I, also, was dressed up as The Dude from Big Lebowski, so yes, there are White Russians in my tale, but they don't enter into this until later. Given that both my dad and my brother-in-law are scotch fans, and given that I'd just picked up the Laphroaig 2021 Cairdeas release, we were leading with that as the main feature of the day. Since I didn't want to deplete the whole bottle (and believe me, the three of us could have killed it, even at cask strength, that afternoon), I decided I'd got two pours of Cairdeas (measured out with shot glasses) to cover the first and second quarters. Then we'd switch to Green Spot Montelena to bring it down a notch but still remain high quality. My dad had brought along Glenmorangie 10, so we threw that in after the Montelena. Then, with a glass of Zaya 16 Rum thrown in for good measure, we moved to Lot No. 40 Rye. At this point, my dad tapped out. "If I have any more, I'm not going to be awake for when the trick 'r treaters come," he said. And I maybe should have taken heed, but hey, we were getting into now, and my brother-in-law was up for more, so, he asked, what else do you have? Now forgive me for being a novice when it comes to Japanese whisky here. It tends to be on the expensive side, so the only other I've had, prior to my experience with the Mars Iwai 45 was Suntory Toki. But of course, when I was down the ocean this summer and had access to a store with brands they don't sell in my region, I spotted the Mars Iwai 45, and though I didn't pick it up on my first trip (where I nabbed New Riff Bottled in Bond Rye, Compass Box Peat Monster, Busker Single Pot Still, and the store pick of EC Single Barrel), I noticed it, and a few days later, decided to run across the 9th St. Bridge (OCNJ is a dry town, so the Circle Liquors is across the bridge in Somers Point) and pick it up. After all, Mars Iwai 45 made the 2020 Whisky Advocate Top 20, and it was only $33.99, and I certainly wasn't going to find it back at home in my own state. So, I added it to my collection, and there it sat unopened, until Halloween 2021, when my brother-in-law said, "What else you got?" By this point in the evening, I wasn't going big in terms of opening one of the grand bottles I've been saving for occasions. After all, I'd already done some damage to my palate and wasn't in a position to rate something of high quality...you know, give it deep thought. So, I riffled through my closet where I keep my collection and settled on this one. And my brother-in-law was over the moon about it. And his excitement was infectious. "A vanilla bomb!" he called it. "Complex!" And I got in the game, "Definitely delicious! Nice and fruity!" And then when we'd had our glass, I put the bottle away and on top of all that whisky, started making White Russians while he left with my wife and his wife and my sister-in-law, who'd showed up, to form a posse and go off hunting for candy (don't worry, the rest of them weren't drinking so my children were, in fact safe). Well, cut to a few days later, and this is why you can't always trust initial impressions at a tasting when you've just have four other pours. Is the Iwai complex? Is it delicious? Is it a vanilla bomb? Yes and no. Tasting it again with my wits about me, I don't find it particularly complex. The Whisky Advocate write up described it as bourbon-like, but I'm not getting that at all here. Rather, if you blinded it and handed it to me, I'd say it's one of the finest blended Irish whiskies I'd ever tasted. Up there with Writer's Tears but better. Certainly better than your standard Tully or Jameson. And this is mainly because the predominant characteristics are vanilla and fruits like apple and pear. The reason I'd take it over most Irish blends is it doesn't have the harsh bite at the end Tully and Jameson have, and while I can enjoy the spiciness of Writer's Tears in the finish, that's $7 more a bottle than this. So, while I'm sitting here comparing this to Irish whiskies, I'm wondering how it compares to other Japanese whiskies. From what I've read, my understanding is that it's not necessarily characteristic of the Japanese style excepting in that it's delicate, soft on the palate. But if other Japanese whiskies are anything like this, I am looking forward to exploring. As for handing out candy, there were a handful of other dads who came through with their kids and understood what I was supposed to be. The kids didn't get it, nor would I expect them to. To most people, wearing my bathrobe, pajama pants, and a white undershirt with sunglasses on, I looked like I'd just rolled out of bed at 5 PM with a hangover and went to hand out candy as I was. When my wife got home, she took over. I went back inside, and though it was only 8 o'clock, I put on a Simpsons Treehouse of Horror episode and passed out on the couch. So, that was the last time I got drunk, and it was fun, and it raised the quality of this Iwai up a notch over where it actually falls, but hey, ain't nothing wrong with that. I had a hell of a good time. The Dude abides, man. The Dude abides....