Cognac finishing like this is somewhat unique for an American whiskey, but it really sings with this well-aged malt, delivering a bright, silky aroma of ripe apricot, flamed orange peel, and soft wood smoke alongside the expected roasted and dark tones of the toasted oak.
The nose is a simple pleasure and delicate in every respect: nicely floral and tropical fruity, a little honeyed, a splash of rosewater and candied violets.
In the crowded world of single-barrel, cask-strength bourbons distilled in Indiana, this one is notable for its complexity and depth of flavor.
The nose finds soft aromas of fresh plums and peaches before brighter aromatics such as citrus and cedar move in. The expected rye guys–dill and spearmint–arrive later.
It finishes warm and hangs around a long time. Judging by its light color and lean mouthfeel, it’s about 5 years old, which would explain its lack of complexity.
This is a dense bourbon, and deep, dark oak tones dominate and before cooked stone fruit, dried figs and baking spices roll across the palate, sweetening the whole.
This feather-light whiskey is a malt drinker’s bourbon, which, based on conversations I’ve had with Zamanian, who is a Scotch lover, may well be what he was after.
But that’s not as fun as pointing to that classic nose of bubble gum, dried flowers and fruit pastries. The barrel has a say, of course, introducing spice and tannin sotto voce, while letting tropical fruit and bruleed sugar speak a bit louder.
If you’re a lower-proof, softer whiskey fan, this is made for you. It’s a cozy drink, a warming dram that will leave you cheerful and summoning someone to bring the bottle for more.
The nose is brooding and dark with a crispy foundation of chocolaty barrel char slathered in notes of dark berry jam, orange marmalade, and overcooked caramel. It’s one of the more intense Wild Turkey noses I’ve experienced.
