N: Tons of corn sitting in tons of oak. Everything else is just a whisper behind that. Caramel, slight tropical fruit, toffee, cinnamon - okay, the cinnamon is not a whisper, actually quite loud, but also part of the oak. Mint, menthol, maybe some green rye grain. P: Cinnamon, cinnamon, cinnamon, sweet corn, cinnamon, caramel. Maybe some sour fruit behind all that cinnamon. It's also all finish straight from the beginning - hot, hot, hot. (I think I'm repeating words because there just isn't much to say about this.) Tiny bit of bitterness at the tail end closes it out. This is really a one-trick pony and that trick is basically getting you to lick the sides of a barrel, and paying heftily for the privilege. This just drinks way too young. Add to that that this is easily the worst value in whiskey I've come across yet. There are vastly better bottles available for half of the $72 I paid for this. I still sometimes see Eagle Rare around $35. This isn't even on par with Wild Turkey 101 (~$25) and maybe not even Evan Williams BIB (~$15). To take it back to Texas, Balcones bottles in the $70-80 range have all been fantastic, and the cheaper bottles have at least been interesting, if not my personal favorites. Then there's all the Texas exceptionalism tied into the marketing language on the bottle. Generally annoying for a former Texan, like myself, who just never quite got it. But when it turns out the juice inside the bottle is actually, frankly, kind of terrible, you have to start assuming something else. Could it be that GB has intentionally made a difficult to enjoy whiskey and then marketed it in such a way as to appeal to the roughnecks in the oil fields, the wannabe cowboys from Laredo to El Paso, the guys who are ten years past their Friday Night Lights days and are now accountants or mortgage brokers - people who want and expect some pain with their whiskey, and are willing to pay for it (at least sometimes), especially when there's a Lone Star on the bottle and reminder not to leave the bottle in your truck on a hot day because it might just leave a mess. Point is, I guess, it's easier for me to see this as a marketing product rather than a substantive bottle of whiskey that adds anything to the Texas whiskey conversation. And that's even more of a disappointment because of all the good things I hear about Balmorhea and Cowboy.