The finish isn’t overwhelming, as Amburana usually is, and provides just enough spice and sweetness to keep it interesting. I’m not sure if it’s the combination of my delight for cinnamon and my love for caipirinhas…but I just really enjoy this whiskey.
The finish isn’t overwhelming, as Amburana usually is, and provides just enough spice and sweetness to keep it interesting. I’m not sure if it’s the combination of my delight for cinnamon and my love for caipirinhas…but I just really enjoy this whiskey.
This bourbon is a study in patience. Knowing the founders of this brand, they didn’t expect this whiskey–the first barrels they ever bought before moving to distill at Castle & Key distillery–would turn out as well as it has…
Truth is I prefer 1792 releases over anything from Buffalo Trace–outside of its incredible Antique Collection, of course. I’m like a lot of bourbon drinkers who love visiting Barton to duck cobwebs in dusty rickhouses to thieve whiskey eventually bottled as Full Proof single barrels.
As good as this 9-year C925 is, it makes me long for the labyrinthine nuances of those earlier, older versions. This one is simpler, but still expectedly delicious.
On the nose is a battle between fruit and minerality, olfactory soldiers armed with aromatics derived from airborne yeast, cooked agave, tahona crushing and finishing in those ex-American whiskey, ex-PdC and ex-Madeira casks.
Not only is it delicious, it’s unique. This release marks the first time any spirit in the Beam portfolio was aged in ex-tequila casks, and it is–to my palate–an historically powerful bourbon that’s beneficially tamed because of that.
This is one of those bottles that makes me want to say to Chris Morris, “Just do more of this, please. Lots more of it.”
On the palate, its 100 proof delivers satisfying spice and tingle while staying supple and enjoyable neat. Toasted oak is prominent, but not in the heavy-handed, newly sawn lumber way of many toasted barrels that dominate the maturate resting within them.
My shifting preferences also point out how delicious and keenly unique every batch of Cellar Aged actually is. And that has me thinking … Maybe that $174.99 price tag isn’t as high as I initially thought.
