This is how bourbon should be made. Legs are pretty thick. The nose really draws you in and arouses the curiosity with heavy caramel and and some oak. The nose tells you up-front how great the taste is going to be, and when the taste comes on, it doesn't let you down a single bit. It has a full body, hits solid at the front of the palate. The flavors are strong, but not overpowering. Amazingly, at 133 proof, it finishes rather kindly; like a bro-hug. It's complex, and the flavors of caramel, oak, honey, and a sort of clove-like rye spice copulate like a foursome on your palate - not ending with a particular spike of anything, but like a climax with a mild grunt from the masculine flavors and "oohs" and "ahhs" of the feminine flavors. It's literally like that. You could sit in a recliner, wearing a red smoking jacket, sipping a glass of this stuff, as the lingering moans of a couple of exhausted broads echo through your marble-clad chamber... Like you just floored the whole crowd with your violin solo, stole the gaze of all the women, and walked out of the concerto hall as the orchestra humbly fades out with your shadow... Like your boss calls you in to tell you that you got the promotion, but you tell him "I appreciate that Bob, but I just came by to tell you that I'll be VP of Communications at XXX Co. starting Monday. By the way, I can recommend you a good secretary because Brenda will be joining my team as soon as my plaque is ready." This is the quintessential bourbon as far as I'm concerned.