Tastes

Those of us of a certain age no doubt remember Orson Welles as a pitchman for Paul Masson wine: "We will sell no wine...before it's time." Setting aside the irony that this wine in the 70s was not too far removed from two-buck chuck, the catchphrase serves as a reminder that some things cannot be rushed--and aged whisk(e)y is one such thing. Afficionados debate what the ideal age for whisk(e)y may be (years for bourbon are "faster" than years for scotch due to the warmer climate), but for me there is little debate that Weller 12 hits the sweet spot. Like its younger cousin Blanton's, Weller 12 is refined, sure-footed, and smooth: it does its job well without fanfare. But this urbane utilitarianism and unpretentious seamlessness is what sets it apart. Clear mahogany color. Fruity nose with ripe peaches, dried apple slices, chocolate covered cherries, rosin, sawdust, and cocoa powder. Upon entry the 90 proof punches appropriately like a welterweight, with a slightly viscous mouthfeel, and a palate with orange pith undergirded with some woody tannins. White pepper and vanilla on the finish. Weller 12 is currently one of my top-5 bourbons (others being W.L. Weller, Elijah Craig 18, Old Forester Birthday Bourbon, and most bottlings of Elijah Craig Barrel Proof). I traded for a fair amount of it a few years ago with an ever-appreciating stock of Hibiki 12, and I'll buy it when I see it as long as it's well below secondary prices--at least, that is, until my inventory runs out. Then I'll have to pay up. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

Pale mahogany color. Nose of honey, chocolate brownies, oranges, vanilla. Palate begins with spicy heat (95 proof) and a touch of bitterness, finishing with cocoa powder and some lingering vanilla. No identifying marks or scars in perp parlance; monolithic and middle-of-the-road. Not bad, but a terrible value. If you're in the neighborhood, I'll gladly give you a pour! I don't remember what I paid for this; but I do recall that it was a package deal (William Larue Weller, Weller Full Proof, Weller CYPB, Weller 12, Weller 107, and Weller Special Reserve). It wasn't cheap. This is more of a "label wh0re" bourbon; it's just not as good as the hype. For the true afficionado, it's something that needs to be tried due to the hype alone, but it's not something that should be sought out on its own merits. In the aforementioned list, CYPB is probably my least favorite (WSR isn't that "special," but expectations are much lower). WLW is of course in a league of its own; W12 is my second favorite, followed by the W107, WFP, WSR, and finally, CYPB. As to the heat, I'm a big fan of high-test bourbon. In this case the proof isn't that high, but its expression is out of sync with the other elements. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

Deep, dark amber color. Fragrant, complex, and fruity nose shows peaches and apple pie, saddle leather, freshly split oak, vanilla, and noticeable but pleasant heat. The heat (96.4 proof) takes a leading role on the palate, with pepper, some woody and slightly bitter tannins, and a touch of cooling menthol. Brief vanilla on the finish. Kentucky Owl Confiscated merits attention: it holds its own in terms of aromatics, but doesn't follow through as strongly with its flavor profile and finish. It's pleasant to drink, but not a great value. It retails around $130 here in CT; I was able to purchase this from a friend of a friend's liquor store for about half that. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

Strangely, I've not been able to find any information whatsoever about this bourbon online; I even had to create it here on Distiller. I'm a big fan of other Woodford Reserve Master's Collection bottlings, so I took a flyer on this. Clear dark mahoghany. Nose shows leather, cigar box, roasted marshmallow, and a healthy dose of spearmint. Big hit of spicy heat (118.4 proof) on the palate, with secondary paraffin and vanilla. Long peppery finish with vanilla on the tail. Good, but not up to other Master's Collection offerings that I've had from Woodford. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

Clear burnt orange color. Nose of sorghum syrup, brown sugar, faint peaches, vanilla, rosin, oak, and some cool spearmint. Pleasantly woody palate (age statement 13 years), with noticeable heat (55.52% ABV) which leads to spicy cinnamon red hots before finishing with coconut and vanilla. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

I was fortunate enough to attend a Rabbit Hole tasting several weeks ago with the company's founder, Kaveh Zamanian, who started the distillery after a career as a psychoanalyst. I'd seen the distinctive bottles in numerous liquor stores, but had never tried any of them. The tasting with Kaveh changed that, and I'm now a big fan of all their products. The Cavehill has a clear burnt orange color--not quite as dark as the Dareinger, which is aged in sherry casks. Sweet, inviting nose with cinnamon applesauce, oak, vanilla, honey, some well-integrated ethanol, and a cool spearmint. The sweetness continues on the palate, with demerara sugar simple-syrup (without the viscosity), while the 95 proof supplies a satisfying spicy burn, before finishing with vanilla and Cheerios. Extremely drinkable. Hard to believe that the "over three years" aging can produce a bourbon this good. As the distillery's stocks mature, I'm excited to see future releases as well. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

The bourbon gods were smiling upon me one summer day a few years ago: I found two bottles of E.H. Taylor Barrel Proof in plain sight on the shelf at a local, now-closed, liquor store. They were marked $69.99. As nonchalantly as I could, I took them to the counter, and checked out at that price. Deep, clear burnt orange color. Complex nose shows an amalgamation of oiled leather, cedar, pipe tobacco, caramel, vanilla, cinnamon applesauce, oranges, pine rosin, and spearmint along with freshly split oak. Powerful, spicy heat on the palate, adding some milk chocolate before finishing with drying leather and rich, liquified vanilla cake that goes on and on. Drinking much better than the last few times I've had it. Need to do a high-test bakeoff with some BTAC and ECBP. 129.3 proof. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

ARDBEG: Corryvreckan (“Corry”) vs Uigeadail (“Oogie”) I’ve had a love-hate relationship with Ardbeg for some time. On the one hand, they produce some seriously ostentatious, hedonistic, cerebral (and polarizing) scotch. On the other hand—perhaps as a function of its corporate parent, LVMH—it is unabashedly marketing-oriented, frequently releasing young and/or no-age-statement whiskies, which is not only at odds with traditional, age-statemented scotch, but also displays a shameless focus on profit (shorter maturation means quicker inventory turns). And more anecdotally, it was Uigeadail which nearly derailed a fantastic night of whisky a couple years back at Milroy’s in Soho. After consuming several high-end Japanese whiskies and some older, elegant scotches, something inside me thought it would be interesting to shake things up for my whisky neophyte friend with a dram of the high-octane monster truck that Oogie is. It did not go well. Imagine instantly flipping a switch from the pastoral sublimity of Beethoven’s Symphony no. 6 to GNR’s “Welcome to the Jungle”—at full blast. One can love both, in the same way that one can love grilled salmon and chocolate syrup—just not on top of one other. But I digress. “Corry”: this is an NAS (no age statement) whisky, which its straw color attests (and more positively, also reveals no added coloring). The back label declares that Corry “is not for the faint-hearted!”. Enter The Office’s Dwight Schrute: “Fact.” This is not a peat bomb in the Bruichladdich Octomore spectrum: and although Ardbeg doesn’t disclose the phenol PPM, it is not low. Nose shows plenty of smoky peat, Islay iodine and salinity, Japanese nori, asphalt, and a touch of bacon fat. There is a penetrating, mouthcoating entry, adding chocolate to the mix, and with a spicy, white pepper finish. The 57.1% ABV is a nice counterweight to Corry’s full-throttle style. “Oogie”: also NAS, with a slightly deeper color than the Corry, due in part to Oogie’s sherry-cask maturation. As if it were possible, Oogie finds another gear, adding sweetness to the mix. Nose reveals a layer of smoky peat permeating pineapple upside-down cake, with some butterscotch and traditional sherry notes of raisin and hazelnut. Different mouthfeel than the Corry, with a similar peppery kick leading to a drying, leathery finish (despite the modestly lower 54.2% ABV). Mind-blowing scotch: just don’t consume following Hibiki 21 and Glendronach 25 in an attempt to show another flavor dimension to your whisky neophyte friend. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

ARDBEG: Corryvreckan (“Corry”) vs Uigeadail (“Oogie”) I’ve had a love-hate relationship with Ardbeg for some time. On the one hand, they produce some seriously ostentatious, hedonistic, cerebral (and polarizing) scotch. On the other hand—perhaps as a function of its corporate parent, LVMH—it is unabashedly marketing-oriented, frequently releasing young and/or no-age-statement whiskies, which is not only at odds with traditional, age-statemented scotch, but also displays a shameless focus on profit (shorter maturation means quicker inventory turns). And more anecdotally, it was Uigeadail which nearly derailed a fantastic night of whisky a couple years back at Milroy’s in Soho. After consuming several high-end Japanese whiskies and some older, elegant scotches, something inside me thought it would be interesting to shake things up for my whisky neophyte friend with a dram of the high-octane monster truck that Oogie is. It did not go well. Imagine instantly flipping a switch from the pastoral sublimity of Beethoven’s Symphony no. 6 to GNR’s “Welcome to the Jungle”—at full blast. One can love both, in the same way that one can love grilled salmon and chocolate syrup—just not on top of one other. But I digress. “Corry”: this is an NAS (no age statement) whisky, which its straw color attests (and more positively, also reveals no added coloring). The back label declares that Corry “is not for the faint-hearted!”. Enter The Office’s Dwight Schrute: “Fact.” This is not a peat bomb in the Bruichladdich Octomore spectrum: and although Ardbeg doesn’t disclose the phenol PPM, it is not low. Nose shows plenty of smoky peat, Islay iodine and salinity, Japanese nori, asphalt, and a touch of bacon fat. There is a penetrating, mouthcoating entry, adding chocolate to the mix, and with a spicy, white pepper finish. The 57.1% ABV is a nice counterweight to Corry’s full-throttle style. “Oogie”: also NAS, with a slightly deeper color than the Corry, due in part to Oogie’s sherry-cask maturation. As if it were possible, Oogie finds another gear, adding sweetness to the mix. Nose reveals a layer of smoky peat permeating pineapple upside-down cake, with some butterscotch and traditional sherry notes of raisin and hazelnut. Different mouthfeel than the Corry, with a similar peppery kick leading to a drying, leathery finish (despite the modestly lower 54.2% ABV). Mind-blowing scotch: just don’t consume following Hibiki 21 and Glendronach 25 in an attempt to show another flavor dimension to your whisky neophyte friend. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

Clear orange mahogany. Nose has dark chocolate, raisin, guava, rosin, black pepper, and a touch of vanilla. Palate is has a tarry, resinous quality. Slight bitterness on the finish, with more rosiny notes: harder, more serious, and a heightened focus in comparison to the Glenfiddich 18 that preceded it. 43% ABV. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.