A friend gifted this bottle to me after he learned I particularly enjoy spicy bourbons. I’m intrigued to contemplate it carefully and see if I concur regarding this one. It’s been open about a year but is still mostly full. Pours medium amber approaching copper, darker than expected for this proof and approximate age. Average legs ebb slowly after rotating to coat the sides of the Glencairn glass. Neat of course. Aroma begins as a wall of rich caramel-coated mahogany and sweet oak, layered with more nuanced notes like orange peel or even marmalade, and hints of spiciness, like clove and allspice. Subtly, underneath it all, an almost yeasty, slightly salty aroma develops, like unbaked bread dough. After sitting much longer in the glass, sweet almond, a la marzipan, begins to dominate. There’s a lot here. A rich and decadent nose is typical for any good representation that’s double-oaked, and this certainly fits the bill. After several sips, a certain waxiness develops, as if the initial nose has been sealed up. First sip is pleasant and bright, and goes down fairly easily at this restrained proof point, with some warming baking-spiciness around the edges of the dominant maple-esque sweetness. Subsequent sips are moderately rich and flavorful for the proof, with the standard caramel/vanilla duo coming through more, in the form of a light vanilla cream with thick caramel drizzle. These also carry secondary flavors of both sweet and dry tannic oak, as well as subtle hints of hot cinnamon. A faint herbal quality that’s difficult to pinpoint eventually begins to develop. The evolution of each sip, and of the overall dram, is enjoyable, if perhaps a bit simpler than the nose. The finish starts with a quick pop of baking chocolate, but then leans mostly into dry tannic oak that lasts moderately long. This earthiness really hangs on. But it also draws me back in for another sip. All that said, the longer I sit with this, the duller and less impressive the nose and palate have grown. Perhaps the nose is the pinnacle of a good double-oaked bourbon, to the point of creating an expectation the palate can’t possibly live up to. Or perhaps OF 1910 is just better enjoyed in small quantities and sipped slowly, the better to take in the whole olfactory experience. Whatever the reason, I did enjoy it more at the beginning than through the end of the dram. Overall though, this is a tasty and somewhat unique expression, especially given the high price point of any double-oaked bottling readily available, or scarcity otherwise. But maybe it’s just not a great value for the money in a fair fight, be that compared against other bourbons in the vicinity of 93 proof, or other bottles priced $50-$60. The nose carries the dram though and, for me, this is 4/5.