“This makes me think I might need to reconsider bourbon…” I’m not sure if that’s a direct quote, so perhaps I should remove the quotation marks. Perhaps I’m paraphrasing, but this is something my dad said last Sunday when we switched from drinking Dewar’s 21 to drinking Woodford Double Oak after halftime of the Eagles v. Falcons game. My dad isn’t a bourbon fan, nor is my brother-in-law, and they’re the two people I drink whisky with most often. Too sweet, they both protest, too much…corn. I have two explanations here as to why they have this prejudice. The first is that it’s all in their heads. For example, last summer, I had purchased Jack Daniel’s Single Barrel Select, and after an afternoon spent drinking Scotch, I worked it in with my brother-in-law, didn’t tell him what it was. He thought it was interesting, complex. He took it seriously and drank it in a way he never would have if I’d told him straight up it was an American whisky (I believe technically that Tennessee whiskies aren’t bourbon, but they’re still predominantly distilled from corn, so To-may-to, to-mah-to, right?; we’re talking in the same ballpark, especially with someone like my brother in law). I should point out that if it sounds devious like I set out to trick him, I never would have done so if he weren't so adamant that he didn't like bourbon to the point of refusing to taste even the bourbons I insisted were great (I should also point out, my dad isn't like this; I don't have to trick him into tasting bourbon; he's always willing to change his mind). The second is the availability and pricing of lower quality bourbons like Jim Beam White Label. I imagine these types of bourbons are a lot of people’s first experience with the style, and to me, White Label has always been disgusting. A friend of mine did a blind bourbon tasting back in the aughts and I was able to pick Jim Beam White out of the lineup. My note: “Tastes what I imagine a diabetic’s urine would taste like.” The reveal: it was White Label. Aside from the putrid aroma, flavor, and finish of such starter bourbons, I also imagine that for many, this is the first type of whisky you got waaaaayyyyy too drunk and vomited from imbibing as a youth, leaving you with bad memories you don’t wish to revisit (I still can’t eat funnel cake for this exact reason). But bourbon has its variety, its complexity, and while I’ve been willing to investigate that, my favorite people to drink whisky with have not. At least, until I broke this out during the second half of the game last Sunday. Now, I just did a write up for Dewar’s Double Double 21 Year, which we started the game with, and as I mentioned in that review, I have difficulty with 375 ml bottles because they don’t always allow me to space out the whisky over time, to live with it, to get an idea of how it changes with individual tastings. But the positive side of the 375 ml size is that I can taste a whisky I’m interested in where I might rather spend the price of the 750 bottle on something else. This, for example. After all, the full bottle goes for around $60, and I got the 375 ml for $26.99 on sale this month, plus tax. That’s a huge difference in cases where you’re not sure you’re going to love it and you’d rather drop $60 on something tried and true like that new Maker’s Mark FAE 01 2009 KDFH 7-18-938H Row 1937 Section ZeroOneNiner. I’m kidding around, but honestly, I really do look forward to the Maker’s special releases and would choose those every time over this, even though this is a damn fine bourbon. But what exactly had my dad saying he needed to reconsider bourbon with this one? Well, it’s odd, because I’m with everyone else here in my judgment that, although this is double oaked, it’s not particularly oaky. The aroma is really sweet, but not overly sweet. It’s got a lot of baking spice, candied cinnamon (as in not the spice but the Red Hots variety, which I suppose could also be a combination of baking spice cinnamon and cherry). But that’s what has me thinking my dad was reconsidering: there’s nothing of corn or grain about the aroma. The funny thing is that what’s weakest here is the palate. The initial hit on the tongue makes me think of something I read in another review here about Old Overholt 114 that Stephanie Moreno wrote, “There’s something missing in the middle.” To me that’s what keeps this bourbon from going over the top entirely. It’s a bit thin in the middle. What really brings this over the top is the finish. I love the finish on this. The Distiller expert review says, “pleasant citrus, like a lemon poppy seed muffin” and reading that with a glass in hand, I could certainly see that (there's certainly a citrusy profile), though my first thoughts, watching my team finish off their opponent 32-6 in the football game Sunday, was toffee, caramel, and those packets of flavored sugar called “Fun Dip” that I ate with that chalky spoon when I was a kid. Would I buy this again? Probably. But it would have to be on sale, and the sale on this is usually $5 off. I’m not sure I want this for $55 but I might be willing to pick it up at $50. Then again, there are so many other bourbons to explore, this might be a one-and-done, I can’t say. Certainly, I favor special releases over whiskies available year-round. But if this has changed my dad’s mind on bourbon, maybe I can get him drinking some of the other special stuff I have on my shelves that I break out just for me: my Evan Williams Single Barrel and Elijah Craig store select picks. I just managed to get my hands on Larceny Barrel Proof, which is now quite difficult with it winning WA’s Whisky of the Year 2020. And I’m interested in all of that. So it might be nice if I can have my favorite person to drink whisky with join me on that journey. As for the Woodford, if you have someone in your life who doesn’t like bourbon but likes Scotch and rye, this just might be the gateway. It just might be… If you have suggestions for bourbons with a similar flavor profile, let me know.