The nose is laden with honey, caramel, spring flowers and a little ripe banana. Hints of white pepper and cinnamon come next with a whiff of mint thrown in. Those same aromas become flavors that form the backbone of this this middleweight spirit.
While all three are solid tequilas, the price-to-value equation doesn’t work out compared to so many other excellent bottles available for much less. The gorgeous packaging and the premium, celebrity-backed market positioning surely pushes prices northward.
What surprises me is the finish, which doesn’t linger, is not all that warm and is neither immediately tannic nor drying–attributes I expected from such lengthy oak interaction.
Tasting this for the first time is like meeting your grandfather before you ever met your father, and by virtue of his age, his stature is immediately more meaningful.
This liquid is its own animal, a whiskey that, tasted blind, might fool a few folks into thinking it’s a low-rye bourbon. Get a bottle and let the fun begin.
If someone can find flaws in this, you’re either a freak of nature who’s going to teach us all something we didn’t know or you’re nuts and making things up.
No one ever regrets buying a bottle of ECBP because it always delivers, never disappoints and always makes people smile when you pour them some.
If Preservation is already achieving that combination of rich fruit and ponderous dark notes at 6.5 years, that’s exciting. To enter the Preservation Wheated Bourbon’s flavor journey at the trailhead is a fun place to be, and now I look forward to every forthcoming release.
I’m here for the party so I’m not leaving. Unlike Steve, I don’t have a curfew or a standing bedtime. Halftime is for bathroom breaks, bourbon refills, and another trip to the food spread to see if anything new hit the table while I was watching the game.
The palate leads with cedar, bitter chocolate, new oak, clove and black pepper. It leaves the tongue tingling more than burning, but either way, it’s spicy beyond what you normally encounter with 96 proof.
