"Anything worth doing is worth overdoing:" and so it goes with proofs in whiskey. I'm a proof snob, I admit. In Texas I've heard my ex say, "the bigger the hair, the closer to God"--and the same metaphor can be applied to proof. Higher proofs are holier.
In whiskey, if alcohol is an angel, then water is the devil. I've waxed prolix on the economics-focused distillers of any spirit that dilute to the 80-proof minimum. It's not as if there's some magical line where dilution produces the best-tasting spirit.
(Side note: I've questioned before why distillers don't come out with multiple "dilutions" for their whiskies: while many now do offer two variants--a lower one and a higher or barrel-proof one--I'm not aware of anyone who offers multiple proofs of the same whiskey. Why a single dichotomy? Give the imbibing public different levels: 80, 95, 110, 125, etc.).
All of that as a contextual prelude to my predilection for this proof-humble 45% ABV whiskey: It is damn good. It's a pleasant respite from having to "warm up" your palate for the high-proof (but pure) intensity of lower dilution; a 90-proof whiskey just goes down easy, all else being equal.
I've been doing far more wine reviews than whiskey reviews over the past several months. Tonight I reviewed a couple of high-end Cali pinots, and then wanted a couple cookies, and I thought "bourbon!" And then I thought "Elijah Craig 18!" Fortunately I had both on-hand.
Taste is context. It's in large part a function of what's been in your mouth over the past couple of hours. So in this particular case, it was leftover Boeuf Bourguignon, the two of the aforementioned Pinots, and then the cookies--followed by the bourbon.
And immediately I got coconut. Now coconut as an aroma or taste is common from the presence of oak (which this bourbon gets 18 years of before bottling). In prior reviews I've noted vanilla and oak, but never coconut.
So...nose shows coconut, along with classic bourbon notes of caramel, vanilla, peach, and separately, oak itself (if you've ever been around freshly split oak, you'll know the smell instantly). There's a cool tone which is faint black licorice (or in spirts-speak, a dash of Pernod), followed by focused espresso, vanilla bean, and more caramelized sugar on the long finish.
Which brings me back to water dilution:
@BDanner mentioned in his review on 3/30/26 "While purists may balk at adding water to a 90 proof pour of this age and price, I recommend trying it." And so I did. Heading to the kitchen with my (second) pour in a Glencairn glass, I turned on the faucet, let the cold water run over my hand, and let a few drops drip into my sacrosanct vessel of purity.
I swirled.
I nosed.
And I'm not quite sure I noticed much different.
Let the record show that I am an utter neophyte when it comes to adding a few drops of water to whisk(e)y. I very well could have done it incorrectly.
But it's all about trying new things, right?