Tastes

Henry McKenna Single-Barrel Bottled-In Bond They say you can’t choose your family, but you can choose your friends. And like seeing an old friend, I never tire of Henry McKenna. I’ve picked it for a reason: it’s multidimensional and comfortable at the same time. It’s complex. It’s not high-maintenance: it doesn’t need an ice cube, or bitters, or simple syrup, or a fancy glass. Certainly not a fussy umbrella. It carries a certain gravitas. It’s no wallflower, and has something to say, but not on the lunatic fringe. There are no hard edges, unless you hit it hard—in which case it will hit back and you’ll be unceremoniously shown the door. Reciprocal respect. Old friends are well-known. The bottle is the same. The color is the same (mahogany consistent with its time spent in barrel). The mannerisms are the same. Like a friend’s occasional new haircut, there are subtle differences in flavor profile from one year, or one barrel, to another. This bottle shows lots of bourbon typicity in a not-gentle way: vanilla wafer, pomander, Cocoa Puffs cereal, a little barbecue sauce funk, apple cider, and chocolate-covered cherries. Juicy on the palate with more apple cider, more vanilla, and a nice Kentucky hug. Long finish with more vanilla wafer and Cocoa Puffs, along with the oak that makes that happen. For some time in this neck of the woods, Henry McKenna became hard to find, and when you did find it, the prices were inflated. I now see it regularly in the $60-65 range, which is a relative value. Would I buy it again? I already have; there are a few bottles in inventory. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. Tasted in a Glencairn glass (old friends oblige benevolent critique). 100-proof. 10-year age statement. Barrel #15163; barreled on 6/6/2013.

SPRINGBANK SPAWN SHOWDOWN Springbank Green 12-Year Hazelburn 14-Year Oloroso Cask Springbank 12-Year x Hazelburn 14-Year Frankenstein Edition There I was at the end of a long day: encamped in the sunroom, feet propped up on a teak table, enjoying the fading pastel colors of a sunset harbor, and thinking about the Springbank Green 12-Year I had started writing notes on a few days prior. I walked to my bar and secured it along with a Hazelburn 14-Year Oloroso Cask (it also being a Springbank) and carried both bottles back, first removing the Springbank Green from its darker green box and pouring its pale late-sun yellow into a clear Glencairn glass. Looking out over the water, I nonchalantly removed the Hazelburn from its stubborn grey box and began pouring it into the second glass. Except it wasn’t the second glass. It was the first. I’d sacrilegiously comingled two beautiful and pure single malts into some seemingly grotesque spawn, and loudly cursed the stupidity of my (sober) error. Mortlach has its “Beast of Dufftown,” and I suddenly possessed my “Campbeltown Frankenstein.” I confessed my sin and contemplated an appropriate penance. Which was: I’d just have to drink it. Thinking about my predicament, I recalled that the bourbon world had their so-called “infinity” bottles, which are in essence the dregs of every empty bottle someone has ever drunk. Why they’re called “infinity” I have no idea, other than the fact that they’re infinitely bad. I recalled that I’d tried starting my own infinity bottle back in the day, but the end result tasted worse than White Dog—both types. Carrying these mixed thoughts to their logical origin, I stumbled upon the realization that it’s actually the Scots who lay claim to the notion of “infinity” bottles: they’ve been doing it for over two centuries, and they call it Blended Scotch Whisky. They even package it in pretty blue bottles and charge an enormous premium for the privilege of hiding the e150 from the naked eye. In this way so-called “Master Blenders” have duped legions of connoisseurs for decades. Yet I myself had just become a Master Blender from the comfort of my own couch. My penance was a pittance: the Springbank Green 12-Year x Hazelburn 14-Year Oloroso Cask “Campbeltown Frankenstein” was actually pretty damn good. As expected, its color was halfway between the pale straw Springbank Green and the dark mahogany Hazelburn Oloroso. The nose was wonderful, with raisiny notes from the Hazelburn, orange oil and grass notes from the Springbank, and some roasted candied peanuts and sweet crème brûlée. The palate was oily, with salt and a faint hint of the peanut brittle aspect that I associate with Springbank. The finish was long, with expected sherry notes, honey, Snickers bar, some cooling mint, and a smokiness that is neither present in the Green or the Hazelburn. While at first I feared a Frankenstein, fortune flummoxed that fate. The sweetness and smoke initially reminded me of Talisker Distiller’s Edition, or perhaps Talisker 18, and I walked back to the bar to get both, and poured a bit of each to check. The Talisker DE was too peaty on the nose, but the 18 is softer, and the comparison was somewhat apt—though the 18’s finish is gently peaty whereas the Frankenstein is smoke. It’s worth noting that in the kiln, Springbank’s malted barley gets 6 hours of peat smoke and 30 hours of hot air, which gives it a subtle smokiness. Hazelburn gets no peat smoke; but the combination of the two exacerbates the smoke from the Springbank Green. Would I blend it again? I’ll pray for such a happy accident, but the scarcity of these two parents makes the foray cost prohibitive. Absent that, the answer is: yes. In fact, I’d bottle and resell it. 4.75 on the Distiller scale. Springbank Green 12-Year Bright and pale straw color. Penetrating nose carries aromas of honey, orange oil, honeysuckle, sweet hay, pear, candied lemon, strawberries and cream, pineapple upside-down cake, very light peat smoke. The palate is subtly oily, with more fruitiness, finishing with spicy chilies and a lingering strawberries and vanilla cream note above a subtle smokiness. The Springbank Green 12-Year has a certain purity to it: uncolored, it is focused, with a fruity and natural earthiness in a farm-to-table sort of way. Its artisanality adds a romantic quality. This whisky can be found online for $500-1,000, due to its dwindling scarcity. Would I buy it again? Not at those prices, but unequivocally yes at whatever the price was that I paid for it. Very, very good. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. 46% ABV. No e150 coloring. Non chill filtered. Hazelburn 14-Year Oloroso Cask Dark mahogany color. Raisins and sweet dates leap from the glass, along with pralines, fresh peppercorns, molasses, cocoa powder, smoked meat, orange chocolates, and demerara sugar. The rush of sweetness continues on the palate, with some alcohol on the back end. The finish is long, with a not unpleasant rubbery petrol, cumin, mole sauce, cinnamon, chocolate, and the smoked meat that was present on the nose all combining for a symphonic encore. Delicious. It’s hard to not be influenced by the artisanal aspects of Springbank. They do everything on site. And why should one ignore it? With vertical integration, they control the entire process, which highlights craftsmanship as well as quality. This Hazelburn expression can be found online for $400-600+. Would I buy it again? Yes (at the much lower price that I paid), which is the case with any Springbank. Absolutely delicious. 4.5+ on the Distiller scale. 49.3% ABV. No e150 coloring. Non chill filtered. 9,600 bottles. Distilled October 2004; bottled February 2019. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

SPRINGBANK SPAWN SHOWDOWN Springbank Green 12-Year Hazelburn 14-Year Oloroso Cask Springbank 12-Year x Hazelburn 14-Year Frankenstein Edition There I was at the end of a long day: encamped in the sunroom, feet propped up on a teak table, enjoying the fading pastel colors of a sunset harbor, and thinking about the Springbank Green 12-Year I had started writing notes on a few days prior. I walked to my bar and secured it along with a Hazelburn 14-Year Oloroso Cask (it also being a Springbank) and carried both bottles back, first removing the Springbank Green from its darker green box and pouring its pale late-sun yellow into a clear Glencairn glass. Looking out over the water, I nonchalantly removed the Hazelburn from its stubborn grey box and began pouring it into the second glass. Except it wasn’t the second glass. It was the first. I’d sacrilegiously comingled two beautiful and pure single malts into some seemingly grotesque spawn, and loudly cursed the stupidity of my (sober) error. Mortlach has its “Beast of Dufftown,” and I suddenly possessed my “Campbeltown Frankenstein.” I confessed my sin and contemplated an appropriate penance. Which was: I’d just have to drink it. Thinking about my predicament, I recalled that the bourbon world had their so-called “infinity” bottles, which are in essence the dregs of every empty bottle someone has ever drunk. Why they’re called “infinity” I have no idea, other than the fact that they’re infinitely bad. I recalled that I’d tried starting my own infinity bottle back in the day, but the end result tasted worse than White Dog—both types. Carrying these mixed thoughts to their logical origin, I stumbled upon the realization that it’s actually the Scots who lay claim to the notion of “infinity” bottles: they’ve been doing it for over two centuries, and they call it Blended Scotch Whisky. They even package it in pretty blue bottles and charge an enormous premium for the privilege of hiding the e150 from the naked eye. In this way so-called “Master Blenders” have duped legions of connoisseurs for decades. Yet I myself had just become a Master Blender from the comfort of my own couch. My penance was a pittance: the Springbank Green 12-Year x Hazelburn 14-Year Oloroso Cask “Campbeltown Frankenstein” was actually pretty damn good. As expected, its color was halfway between the pale straw Springbank Green and the dark mahogany Hazelburn Oloroso. The nose was wonderful, with raisiny notes from the Hazelburn, orange oil and grass notes from the Springbank, and some roasted candied peanuts and sweet crème brûlée. The palate was oily, with salt and a faint hint of the peanut brittle aspect that I associate with Springbank. The finish was long, with expected sherry notes, honey, Snickers bar, some cooling mint, and a smokiness that is neither present in the Green or the Hazelburn. While at first I feared a Frankenstein, fortune flummoxed that fate. The sweetness and smoke initially reminded me of Talisker Distiller’s Edition, or perhaps Talisker 18, and I walked back to the bar to get both, and poured a bit of each to check. The Talisker DE was too peaty on the nose, but the 18 is softer, and the comparison was somewhat apt—though the 18’s finish is gently peaty whereas the Frankenstein is smoke. It’s worth noting that in the kiln, Springbank’s malted barley gets 6 hours of peat smoke and 30 hours of hot air, which gives it a subtle smokiness. Hazelburn gets no peat smoke; but the combination of the two exacerbates the smoke from the Springbank Green. Would I blend it again? I’ll pray for such a happy accident, but the scarcity of these two parents makes the foray cost prohibitive. Absent that, the answer is: yes. In fact, I’d bottle and resell it. 4.75 on the Distiller scale. Springbank Green 12-Year Bright and pale straw color. Penetrating nose carries aromas of honey, orange oil, honeysuckle, sweet hay, pear, candied lemon, strawberries and cream, pineapple upside-down cake, very light peat smoke. The palate is subtly oily, with more fruitiness, finishing with spicy chilies and a lingering strawberries and vanilla cream note above a subtle smokiness. The Springbank Green 12-Year has a certain purity to it: uncolored, it is focused, with a fruity and natural earthiness in a farm-to-table sort of way. Its artisanality adds a romantic quality. This whisky can be found online for $500-1,000, due to its dwindling scarcity. Would I buy it again? Not at those prices, but unequivocally yes at whatever the price was that I paid for it. Very, very good. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. 46% ABV. No e150 coloring. Non chill filtered. Hazelburn 14-Year Oloroso Cask Dark mahogany color. Raisins and sweet dates leap from the glass, along with pralines, fresh peppercorns, molasses, cocoa powder, smoked meat, orange chocolates, and demerara sugar. The rush of sweetness continues on the palate, with some alcohol on the back end. The finish is long, with a not unpleasant rubbery petrol, cumin, mole sauce, cinnamon, chocolate, and the smoked meat that was present on the nose all combining for a symphonic encore. Delicious. It’s hard to not be influenced by the artisanal aspects of Springbank. They do everything on site. And why should one ignore it? With vertical integration, they control the entire process, which highlights craftsmanship as well as quality. This Hazelburn expression can be found online for $400-600+. Would I buy it again? Yes (at the much lower price that I paid), which is the case with any Springbank. Absolutely delicious. 4.5+ on the Distiller scale. 49.3% ABV. No e150 coloring. Non chill filtered. 9,600 bottles. Distilled October 2004; bottled February 2019. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

KILKERRAN 12-YEAR (Last reviewed 7/26/22) If I’m seriously tasting a whisk(e)y—which is more often than not—I’ll do it over the course of two or more days, since taste can be impacted by a variety of factors over time, including food, drink, gum, smoke, or anything else that can go in the mouth or nose, in addition to physical changes such as nasal congestion. I typically note off-the-cuff adjectives related to the color, aroma, and taste that I experience on the first day, and then return to see if these are confirmed or augmented, and then flesh out the details. With Kilkerran 12, I’m not straying far from my initial review; even if the words are different, many of my impressions are the same as they were a couple years ago. Kilkerran 12 shows a beautiful golden amber hue, like an aged Chardonnay, right around Pantone 123. When first nosed, I’m reminded of Teddy Roosevelt’s foreign policy: “speak softly, but carry a big stick.” This whisky commands your attention with sensations of both lightness and power. Fruits galore with notes of apple crumble, candied lemon, pears, honey, banana chips, saline, light smoky peat, dried apricot, guava, hay, and a touch of vanilla extract. (The pears reminded me of Oban 14, so I poured a splash for comparison.; the Oban transmogrified the smoky peat to a more meaty element somewhere between bacon and smoked ham. Taste context redux). The attack on the palate is like the hearty handshake of a friend not seen in years: gregarious, unencumbered, and energetic. It’s also somewhat viscous—not what you want in a handshake—and I’ll spare any additional similes. There’s some sweet wood on the palate, with a flavor reminiscent of hoarhound candy or a Ricola cough drop. There’s a little nutmeg going on and a gentle white pepper kick. Finishes long: the gentle smoky peat reemerges, as do the salt and banana chips. Online prices for Kilkerran 12 range from $60 to $110. I myself don’t see it often, and I don’t recall what I paid for it. Taking the average of those two amounts, would I buy it again? Yes sir. Not only because Campbeltown whisky is today quite small in terms of production, but because it, like Springbank, offers flavor profiles not quite captured in other areas. 4.25 on the Distiller scale—a little less than my 2022 review. 46% ABV. Non chill-filtered. No e150 coloring. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

HEAVEN HILL A124 SHOWDOWN ELIJAH CRAIG BARREL PROOF A124 LARCENY BARREL PROOF A124 These are two different bourbons—Larceny is wheated, whereas Elijah Craig is not—but both are Heaven Hill products, both are January 2024 releases, both are barrel proof, and both are among my favorite quasi-available high-proof bourbons. I tasted these over the course of two days, with the requisite warm-up necessary to acclimate one’s palate to the high-test alcohol levels. ELIJAH CRAIG BARREL PROOF A124 Color is a rich mahogany (akin to Pantone 160). Nose shows stewed apples, gentle cinnamon, a dusty element, and mint, with a little chocolate covered cherry undernote. The palate has a slightly viscous mouthfeel, following with sweet corn a nice hit of vanilla, which lingers on the finish. The A124 isn’t among my favorite ECBP releases, especially following the otherworldly C923 (which I tasted briefly here to validate my thoughts). However, it has grown on me over the past two days. Many have been disappointed by the lower age statement—below the historical 12 years, and exacerbated by the C923’s 13 years and 7 months. All else being equal, I appreciate a higher age statement, but that doesn’t bias my assessment. Elijah Craig Barrel Proof A124 can be found for around $80. On a relative basis, it’s always a good value for high-quality, age-statemented, high-proof, limited-release bourbon. Would I buy it again? Yes. I attempt to find each release each year. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 119 proof. 10-year, 9-month age statement. Non-chill filtered. LARCENY BARREL PROOF A124 Like the ECBP, Larceny Barrel Proof presents as rich, dark mahogany in terms of color (Pantone 160). The nose is warm and inviting, with butterscotch and caramel notes, hot chocolate, and a whiff of Chinese-five-spice coolness. There is a light and smooth glycerin aspect that coats the mouth, with sweet vanilla. There are no hard edges, and the alcohol is well-integrated. The back end has Nutella, oak, and espresso elements, and the hot chocolate reemerges on the finish, which has good length. The LBP A124 is very good. It’s a little less expensive than its older cousin, ECBP, and can be found for around $70. Would I buy it again? Yes. Like the ECBP, I look for each of the three releases during the year. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. 124.2 proof. 6-8 year age statement. Non-chill filtered. CONCLUSION The purpose of these Showdowns is not to establish winners and losers per se, but rather to be more of an intellectual exercise to explore the contextual aspects of bourbon aesthetics: whiskies of all types will taste differently in comparison with others. (This was taken to an extreme by Fred Minnick, when he tasted all of the bourbons in his Top 100 for 2023 in one sitting—not advisable, even when spitting, which he did. But I digress). In general, the LBP has a greater warmth, depth, and richness than its ECBP cousin. It’s on the cusp of being very, very good. For the A124 release, I prefer it to the ECBP—despite the different mashbills. Fortunately, LBP hasn’t quite caught up with ECBP amongst the bourbonati, and as a result it’s somewhat more available (and less expensive). All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

HEAVEN HILL A124 SHOWDOWN ELIJAH CRAIG BARREL PROOF A124 LARCENY BARREL PROOF A124 These are two different bourbons—Larceny is wheated, whereas Elijah Craig is not—but both are Heaven Hill products, both are January 2024 releases, both are barrel proof, and both are among my favorite quasi-available high-proof bourbons. I tasted these over the course of two days, with the requisite warm-up necessary to acclimate one’s palate to the high-test alcohol levels. ELIJAH CRAIG BARREL PROOF A124 Color is a rich mahogany (akin to Pantone 160). Nose shows stewed apples, gentle cinnamon, a dusty element, and mint, with a little chocolate covered cherry undernote. The palate has a slightly viscous mouthfeel, following with sweet corn a nice hit of vanilla, which lingers on the finish. The A124 isn’t among my favorite ECBP releases, especially following the otherworldly C923 (which I tasted briefly here to validate my thoughts). However, it has grown on me over the past two days. Many have been disappointed by the lower age statement—below the historical 12 years, and exacerbated by the C923’s 13 years and 7 months. All else being equal, I appreciate a higher age statement, but that doesn’t bias my assessment. Elijah Craig Barrel Proof A124 can be found for around $80. On a relative basis, it’s always a good value for high-quality, age-statemented, high-proof, limited-release bourbon. Would I buy it again? Yes. I attempt to find each release each year. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 119 proof. 10-year, 9-month age statement. Non-chill filtered. LARCENY BARREL PROOF A124 Like the ECBP, Larceny Barrel Proof presents as rich, dark mahogany in terms of color (Pantone 160). The nose is warm and inviting, with butterscotch and caramel notes, hot chocolate, and a whiff of Chinese-five-spice coolness. There is a light and smooth glycerin aspect that coats the mouth, with sweet vanilla. There are no hard edges, and the alcohol is well-integrated. The back end has Nutella, oak, and espresso elements, and the hot chocolate reemerges on the finish, which has good length. The LBP A124 is very good. It’s a little less expensive than its older cousin, ECBP, and can be found for around $70. Would I buy it again? Yes. Like the ECBP, I look for each of the three releases during the year. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. 124.2 proof. 6-8 year age statement. Non-chill filtered. CONCLUSION The purpose of these Showdowns is not to establish winners and losers per se, but rather to be more of an intellectual exercise to explore the contextual aspects of bourbon aesthetics: whiskies of all types will taste differently in comparison with others. (This was taken to an extreme by Fred Minnick, when he tasted all of the bourbons in his Top 100 for 2023 in one sitting—not advisable, even when spitting, which he did. But I digress). In general, the LBP has a greater warmth, depth, and richness than its ECBP cousin. It’s on the cusp of being very, very good. For the A124 release, I prefer it to the ECBP—despite the different mashbills. Fortunately, LBP hasn’t quite caught up with ECBP amongst the bourbonati, and as a result it’s somewhat more available (and less expensive). All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

RANDOM HAZMAT SHOWDOWN 1792 FULL PROOF TOTAL WINE SINGLE BARREL SELECT JACK DANIELS SINGLE BARREL BARREL PROOF Ladies and gentleman, I am overdue. Life calls, etcetera. For my audience of eight, mea culpa. I like to think of myself as a stats guy. As Sergeant Joe Friday would say, “Just the facts, ma’am.” (I’ve delivered facts in spades with that reference alone). While facts and stats are my bread and butter, if I were to hazard an outright guess, I’d bet that the mean demographic of Distiller users is someone like me: A guy unwilling to admit that he is likely on the back nine of life, and having experienced both birdies and bogies before the turn, finds time to enjoy the view on the way to the finish, even if he is always keeping score. 1792 FULL PROOF TOTAL WINE SINGLE BARREL SELECT Clear dark orange mahogany color, akin to Pantone 153. Close inspection of the subtle nose reveals strawberries, toasted oak, burnt caramel, and vanilla. Mouthfeel has a little glycerin, and the high-proof ethanol announces its presence on entry, walking and then stomping toward the back and greeting some mulled cider en route. The heat continues on the finish, with a supporting role from chocolate covered cherries, some oak, and vanilla. As a purist, I’m a lover of high-proof whiskey. It’s unadulterated, or nearly so, and the resultant need to sip—when taken neat, as I do—requires more time and coerces more contemplation, which enhances the overall experience. But higher proofs can be more difficult to differentiate than lower-proof whiskies due to the higher alcohol content; the nose, taste, and mouthfeel have to meet the higher ABV on its own robust terms. I like the 1792 FP, but it lacks balance. There’s a lot of heat—to be expected, of course—but there’s no overt characteristics in its flavor or olfactory profile that set it apart. Where the 1792 FP is more differentiated is in terms of relative value; it can be found for around $50 at retail. This is good, not great, bourbon. Would I buy it again? Yes. 3.75 on the Distiller scale. 125 proof. NAS. Non-chill filtered. JACK DANIELS SINGLE BARREL BARREL PROOF Color is a dark and brooding pure mahogany, a shade darker than the 1792 (Pantone 159). The first impression on the nose is not one of olfactory descriptors but rather tactile ones: there is an effusiveness, warmth, and fullness that first appear, shepherding notes of peanuts, peanut brittle, BBQ sauce, and a little brown sugar. The mouthfeel has a similar weight to the 1792 on entry, and the alcohol is better integrated, despite the higher proof. Sweet creamed corn leads the way. The finish is surprisingly soft: the alcohol is there as it should be, but held in check, and again there is a tactile sensation that enhances the atypical flavor profile. The finish displays a soft oakiness, an even softer and subtle cotton-candy sweetness, and some vanilla. Overall, the profile is more savory than sweet. The JDSBBP does a better job distinguishing itself than does the 1792 FP. This is immediately apparent on the nose: it doesn’t exhibit the typical bourbon descriptors like caramel, toasted oak, and vanilla that come at you, but rather peanuts (typical for Tennessee Whiskey, yes) and BBQ sauce. Jack Daniels Single Barrel Barrel Proof can be found for around $65—just $15 more than the 1792 BP. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 129.4 proof. NAS. Charcoal filtered per the standard Lincoln County Process. CONCLUSION Aside from the color and high ABV, these whiskies don’t have too much in common. While the 1792 FP comes across as an overpowered Camry, the JDSBBP is on the threshold of being very good: it is fuller, richer, smoother, and has a greater depth of flavor. The charcoal-filtered “Lincoln County process” delivers on its promise to mellow the sharp edges. The JDSBBP not only has greater complexity on the nose, but it also has greater depth of flavor, a longer finish, and a superior whiskey experience. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

RANDOM HAZMAT SHOWDOWN 1792 FULL PROOF TOTAL WINE SINGLE BARREL SELECT JACK DANIELS SINGLE BARREL BARREL PROOF Ladies and gentleman, I am overdue. Life calls, etcetera. For my audience of eight, mea culpa. I like to think of myself as a stats guy. As Sergeant Joe Friday would say, “Just the facts, ma’am.” (I’ve delivered facts in spades with that reference alone). While facts and stats are my bread and butter, if I were to hazard an outright guess, I’d bet that the mean demographic of Distiller users is someone like me: A guy unwilling to admit that he is likely on the back nine of life, and having experienced both birdies and bogies before the turn, finds time to enjoy the view on the way to the finish, even if he is always keeping score. 1792 FULL PROOF TOTAL WINE SINGLE BARREL SELECT Clear dark orange mahogany color, akin to Pantone 153. Close inspection of the subtle nose reveals strawberries, toasted oak, burnt caramel, and vanilla. Mouthfeel has a little glycerin, and the high-proof ethanol announces its presence on entry, walking and then stomping toward the back and greeting some mulled cider en route. The heat continues on the finish, with a supporting role from chocolate covered cherries, some oak, and vanilla. As a purist, I’m a lover of high-proof whiskey. It’s unadulterated, or nearly so, and the resultant need to sip—when taken neat, as I do—requires more time and coerces more contemplation, which enhances the overall experience. But higher proofs can be more difficult to differentiate than lower-proof whiskies due to the higher alcohol content; the nose, taste, and mouthfeel have to meet the higher ABV on its own robust terms. I like the 1792 FP, but it lacks balance. There’s a lot of heat—to be expected, of course—but there’s no overt characteristics in its flavor or olfactory profile that set it apart. Where the 1792 FP is more differentiated is in terms of relative value; it can be found for around $50 at retail. This is good, not great, bourbon. Would I buy it again? Yes. 3.75 on the Distiller scale. 125 proof. NAS. Non-chill filtered. JACK DANIELS SINGLE BARREL BARREL PROOF Color is a dark and brooding pure mahogany, a shade darker than the 1792 (Pantone 159). The first impression on the nose is not one of olfactory descriptors but rather tactile ones: there is an effusiveness, warmth, and fullness that first appear, shepherding notes of peanuts, peanut brittle, BBQ sauce, and a little brown sugar. The mouthfeel has a similar weight to the 1792 on entry, and the alcohol is better integrated, despite the higher proof. Sweet creamed corn leads the way. The finish is surprisingly soft: the alcohol is there as it should be, but held in check, and again there is a tactile sensation that enhances the atypical flavor profile. The finish displays a soft oakiness, an even softer and subtle cotton-candy sweetness, and some vanilla. Overall, the profile is more savory than sweet. The JDSBBP does a better job distinguishing itself than does the 1792 FP. This is immediately apparent on the nose: it doesn’t exhibit the typical bourbon descriptors like caramel, toasted oak, and vanilla that come at you, but rather peanuts (typical for Tennessee Whiskey, yes) and BBQ sauce. Jack Daniels Single Barrel Barrel Proof can be found for around $65—just $15 more than the 1792 BP. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 129.4 proof. NAS. Charcoal filtered per the standard Lincoln County Process. CONCLUSION Aside from the color and high ABV, these whiskies don’t have too much in common. While the 1792 FP comes across as an overpowered Camry, the JDSBBP is on the threshold of being very good: it is fuller, richer, smoother, and has a greater depth of flavor. The charcoal-filtered “Lincoln County process” delivers on its promise to mellow the sharp edges. The JDSBBP not only has greater complexity on the nose, but it also has greater depth of flavor, a longer finish, and a superior whiskey experience. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

RANDOM IRISH WHISKEY SHOWDOWN CLONAKILTY PORT CASK FINISH IRISH WHISKEY LIMAVADY SINGLE BARREL SINGLE MALT IRISH WHISKEY YELLOW SPOT 12-YEAR SINGLE POT STILL IRISH WHISKEY This “random Showdown” review is a bit incongruous. The Clonakilty and Limavady are both NAS, while the Yellow Spot carries a 12-year age statement; the Limavady is a single malt, while the Clonakilty and Yellow Spot are blends (the former sourced from different distilleries, and the latter a single-sourced blend of various cask finishes). The Clonakilty and Limavady are marketed at similar price points, while the Yellow Spot is typically triple that. The common denominator is the fact that each is a proper Irish Whiskey—and any common denominator is good enough for another Showdown. The purpose of these Showdown reviews is not to declare a winner per se, but rather to better understand some of the subjectivity of whisk(e)y appreciation as a function of context and comparison. CLONAKILTY PORT CASK FINISH IRISH WHISKEY Burnt-orange amber in color, the second darkest (or lightest) of the group, akin to Pantone 144. Fruity nose shows apples, peaches, sweet cherries, a little honey, and some vanilla. The palate is sweet and gently creamy—a little like strawberry ice cream—while remaining light on its feet. There’s a touch of bitterness on the back end—adding complexity rather than negativity—before transitioning to a dash of white pepper and lingering honey and vanilla on the finish. I’ve never had Clonakilty before—I’d never even heard of it—and it was a pleasant surprise (no, I’m not channeling Emily Dickinson with all of the em dashes). From the label, I was expecting something heavier, given the port finish. The whiskey has a little weight, but overall it’s quite fruity. This Clonakilty expression (there are several) can be found for $50-55. Would I buy it again? Yes. 3.75 on the Distiller scale. 43.6% ABV. Non-chill filtered. Batch # 038. 7,000 bottles produced. Unclear if E150a coloring is added. LIMAVADY SINGLE BARREL SINGLE MALT IRISH WHISKEY In the glass, shows as dried hay and light amber, and is the lightest in color of the three whiskies in this Showdown (Pantone 143). Initially, there’s an brief herbaceous aspect (parsley? Bell pepper?) which blows off. Distinct banana chip note, along with Circus Peanuts marshmallow candy, some Cheerios cereal, and after much back-and-forth between the three whiskies in this Showdown, some butterscotch. There’s also a dank, damp wood note that is not offputting per se but rather conjures up notions of Irish Whiskey aged in underground cellars. Some nice oiliness on the palate, with more of the circus peanuts, before a peppery note kicks in along with the same Circus Peanuts, some not unpleasant bitter espresso, and a touch of toffee on the finish. The Limavady is the only single-malt, single-barrel Irish whiskey in this group. Subjectively, it comes across as “tighter” than the other two—and concomitantly, more intellectually challenging to describe. The single-barrel designation means there can be bottle variation from year to year, and even intra-year. One cannot plot a trendline against a single data point, but my experience with this data point will coerce me to seek out another data point in due time. At $40-50, the Limavady is a relative value, especially considering its uniqueness. Would I buy it again? Yes. 3.5+ on the Distiller scale. As a side note: take a look at the picture accompanying the review. The Limavady has the most difficult stopper cap that I’ve ever experienced in any ingestible this side of a child-proof prescription cap. It is solid glass with a silicone seal ring, and requires the supplicant to work his or her ass off to get to the internals. I had to hold it in both hands, and then push up on the ventral side with both thumbs in order to free it. Distinctive, but very high maintenance. So I checked the website, which states that the bottle is “paying homage to the original 1750s design…Featuring an old-school ‘blob top.” I’m an old-school guy myself, but the perceived beauty of this so-called blob top is analogous to the skinned-knuckle aesthetics of a Ford Model A hand crank. 46% ABV. Barrel # 0143. Bottle # 746 of 846. Unclear if E150a coloring is added, but this one is the lightest of the three. YELLOW SPOT 12-YEAR SINGLE POT STILL IRISH WHISKEY Color is a deep burnt orange, the darkest of the three (Pantone 159). Tasted alongside the others, the nose is like a cozy blanket. It evokes orange oil, sandalwood, fruitcake, mulled cider, sandalwood again, some vanilla, and something strawberry—think Strawberries Romanoff at Sparks in NYC (which has Grand Marnier in the whipped cream). This whiskey is soothing and calming, like an olfactory deep-tissue massage. The palate is viscous and coats the tongue; it is slightly woody, with vanilla, yellow raisins, and a reemergence of the orange oil on the nose. The proof is nicely integrated, with a gentle reminder of its presence on the back end, finishing with a pleasant woody vanilla note. As soon as the Yellow Spot touches your lips, there’s little doubt that you’re drinking something special. I’ve now had the Green, Yellow, Blue, and Red Spot Irish whiskies. Yellow Spot is delicious, and it should be, given the price (around $150—when it can be found). It’s expensive. But as good as it is, in my book, it only ranks third in that list (Blue #1, Red #2, Yellow #3, Green #4), which is a testament to the entire line. Would I buy it again? (This was a gift). Yes. I’d like to always have all the Spots (Green, Yellow, Blue, Red) on hand. 4.5+ on the Distiller scale. 46% ABV. Non-chill filtered. E150a coloring added. CONCLUSION This was an enlightening Showdown. Each whiskey has distinct attributes that were reinforced in the presence of the others. The Clonakilty is the fruitiest and sweetest; the Limavady a bit tigther and more focused, in the same way that a young cabernet sauvignon can be (though whiskey, of course, will not soften with age as a cab would). The Yellow Spot is in another class: it is confident and authoritative and grabs your attention, in comparison to the other two. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass. N.B.: The entirety of this review was written while listening to Dave Brubeck’s “Time Out.” on Apple Music. I saw Dave Brubeck in concert about 35 years ago, either before or immediately after their tour of the USSR—which (much to my chagrin) dates me as no spring chicken. But I do recall tapping my feet in 5/4 time to “Take Five.”

RANDOM IRISH WHISKEY SHOWDOWN CLONAKILTY PORT CASK FINISH IRISH WHISKEY LIMAVADY SINGLE BARREL SINGLE MALT IRISH WHISKEY YELLOW SPOT 12-YEAR SINGLE POT STILL IRISH WHISKEY This “random Showdown” review is a bit incongruous. The Clonakilty and Limavady are both NAS, while the Yellow Spot carries a 12-year age statement; the Limavady is a single malt, while the Clonakilty and Yellow Spot are blends (the former sourced from different distilleries, and the latter a single-sourced blend of various cask finishes). The Clonakilty and Limavady are marketed at similar price points, while the Yellow Spot is typically triple that. The common denominator is the fact that each is a proper Irish Whiskey—and any common denominator is good enough for another Showdown. The purpose of these Showdown reviews is not to declare a winner per se, but rather to better understand some of the subjectivity of whisk(e)y appreciation as a function of context and comparison. CLONAKILTY PORT CASK FINISH IRISH WHISKEY Burnt-orange amber in color, the second darkest (or lightest) of the group, akin to Pantone 144. Fruity nose shows apples, peaches, sweet cherries, a little honey, and some vanilla. The palate is sweet and gently creamy—a little like strawberry ice cream—while remaining light on its feet. There’s a touch of bitterness on the back end—adding complexity rather than negativity—before transitioning to a dash of white pepper and lingering honey and vanilla on the finish. I’ve never had Clonakilty before—I’d never even heard of it—and it was a pleasant surprise (no, I’m not channeling Emily Dickinson with all of the em dashes). From the label, I was expecting something heavier, given the port finish. The whiskey has a little weight, but overall it’s quite fruity. This Clonakilty expression (there are several) can be found for $50-55. Would I buy it again? Yes. 3.75 on the Distiller scale. 43.6% ABV. Non-chill filtered. Batch # 038. 7,000 bottles produced. Unclear if E150a coloring is added. LIMAVADY SINGLE BARREL SINGLE MALT IRISH WHISKEY In the glass, shows as dried hay and light amber, and is the lightest in color of the three whiskies in this Showdown (Pantone 143). Initially, there’s an brief herbaceous aspect (parsley? Bell pepper?) which blows off. Distinct banana chip note, along with Circus Peanuts marshmallow candy, some Cheerios cereal, and after much back-and-forth between the three whiskies in this Showdown, some butterscotch. There’s also a dank, damp wood note that is not offputting per se but rather conjures up notions of Irish Whiskey aged in underground cellars. Some nice oiliness on the palate, with more of the circus peanuts, before a peppery note kicks in along with the same Circus Peanuts, some not unpleasant bitter espresso, and a touch of toffee on the finish. The Limavady is the only single-malt, single-barrel Irish whiskey in this group. Subjectively, it comes across as “tighter” than the other two—and concomitantly, more intellectually challenging to describe. The single-barrel designation means there can be bottle variation from year to year, and even intra-year. One cannot plot a trendline against a single data point, but my experience with this data point will coerce me to seek out another data point in due time. At $40-50, the Limavady is a relative value, especially considering its uniqueness. Would I buy it again? Yes. 3.5+ on the Distiller scale. As a side note: take a look at the picture accompanying the review. The Limavady has the most difficult stopper cap that I’ve ever experienced in any ingestible this side of a child-proof prescription cap. It is solid glass with a silicone seal ring, and requires the supplicant to work his or her ass off to get to the internals. I had to hold it in both hands, and then push up on the ventral side with both thumbs in order to free it. Distinctive, but very high maintenance. So I checked the website, which states that the bottle is “paying homage to the original 1750s design…Featuring an old-school ‘blob top.” I’m an old-school guy myself, but the perceived beauty of this so-called blob top is analogous to the skinned-knuckle aesthetics of a Ford Model A hand crank. 46% ABV. Barrel # 0143. Bottle # 746 of 846. Unclear if E150a coloring is added, but this one is the lightest of the three. YELLOW SPOT 12-YEAR SINGLE POT STILL IRISH WHISKEY Color is a deep burnt orange, the darkest of the three (Pantone 159). Tasted alongside the others, the nose is like a cozy blanket. It evokes orange oil, sandalwood, fruitcake, mulled cider, sandalwood again, some vanilla, and something strawberry—think Strawberries Romanoff at Sparks in NYC (which has Grand Marnier in the whipped cream). This whiskey is soothing and calming, like an olfactory deep-tissue massage. The palate is viscous and coats the tongue; it is slightly woody, with vanilla, yellow raisins, and a reemergence of the orange oil on the nose. The proof is nicely integrated, with a gentle reminder of its presence on the back end, finishing with a pleasant woody vanilla note. As soon as the Yellow Spot touches your lips, there’s little doubt that you’re drinking something special. I’ve now had the Green, Yellow, Blue, and Red Spot Irish whiskies. Yellow Spot is delicious, and it should be, given the price (around $150—when it can be found). It’s expensive. But as good as it is, in my book, it only ranks third in that list (Blue #1, Red #2, Yellow #3, Green #4), which is a testament to the entire line. Would I buy it again? (This was a gift). Yes. I’d like to always have all the Spots (Green, Yellow, Blue, Red) on hand. 4.5+ on the Distiller scale. 46% ABV. Non-chill filtered. E150a coloring added. CONCLUSION This was an enlightening Showdown. Each whiskey has distinct attributes that were reinforced in the presence of the others. The Clonakilty is the fruitiest and sweetest; the Limavady a bit tigther and more focused, in the same way that a young cabernet sauvignon can be (though whiskey, of course, will not soften with age as a cab would). The Yellow Spot is in another class: it is confident and authoritative and grabs your attention, in comparison to the other two. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass. N.B.: The entirety of this review was written while listening to Dave Brubeck’s “Time Out.” on Apple Music. I saw Dave Brubeck in concert about 35 years ago, either before or immediately after their tour of the USSR—which (much to my chagrin) dates me as no spring chicken. But I do recall tapping my feet in 5/4 time to “Take Five.”