The nose is huge, leading with that unmistakable Brown-Forman yeast note that’s fruity, candied, floral and tropical. Browned biscuits, cinnamon, dark chocolate (yeah, it flirts with Mexican hot chocolate), confectioner’s sugar, old oak and licorice.
The result in Winter Blend 2023 is the still-strength blanco is nearly outgunned by all the varied wood influences. Francavilla has made a blend that’s undeniably Fortaleza, but in the glass, there’s a lot going on that keeps it from becoming a unified whole.
Loads of tropical fruit and lilac lead on the nose followed by orange lemon zests and a hint of dried grain. The deeply toasted oak reminds you that a 13-year-old bourbon makes up the bulk of this blend.
It starts with a whiff of pine lumber—a surprising yet pleasant note discernible in other Still Austin releases—forest floor, sage, and some rosemary, all intriguing and without shortcomings.
This bourbon is a multitasker, great neat, on the rocks, or in an old-fashioned. To make room for a little air in the bottle, I made three old-fashioneds for my guests. That they took notice of their drinks as “really good and spicy” says they caught on to this bourbon’s difference.
The palate is simple, lovely, sweet, and oaky. It’s what bourbon at its simplest should be. No surprises, no disappointments, just goodness that’s so easy to drink that you extend your arm for a refill—before you need a refill.
Like a child celebrating its own birthday, Old Forester Birthday’s proof and age jump around a lot. The 2019 release was 11 years old with a proof of 105 (it remains one of my favorites, plus, I got to taste its brutish dump strength of 150 proof), while 2020’s age dropped to 10 years and 98 proof.
The nose on this goes for days … bitter chocolate, clover honey, oak, mincemeat pie, lavender, dried roses, chamomile, leather jacket and cooked apples. It’s warm from front to back to down the hatch, but it drinks nowhere near its 133 proof.
The nose leads with grape candy, Concord jelly, purple iris bloom, confectioner’s sugar, blooming roses and toasted raisin bread. Ever had a whiskey you could nose and nose and nose? This is one of those.
The 12-year is a whiskey of tremendous complexity, character and texture, and the 10-year (review forthcoming) is barely less arresting. This Jack is mannerly, wizened, confident and worthy of standing alongside any American whiskey on a back bar.
