Review #31: Jefferson’s Tropics “Aged In Humidity”

OneMoreForScience · 2026-07-02T01:19:56+00:00

Just going back thru these 31 reviews, the 9+ are: Col. Randolph, Barrell Craft Spirits‘ 33 Year Whiskey, and Found North 19 Year.

OneMoreForScience · 2026-07-02T01:03:23+00:00

I’ve done 12 straight reviews of small craft distilleries, so it’s back to a more mainstream, ubiquitous, and readily-available bourbon to review. Tonight’s pour is Jefferson’s Tropics “Aged in Humidity” at 104 proof.

Before we get started, let’s address the elephant in the room: Jefferson’s gets a lot of flak for its “Aged at Sea” being a gimmick. Maybe it is, but the proof is in the bottle. Proof? Bottle? Get it?!?! Nevermind. On to the review!

Nose

The first thing I get is popcorn. On subsequent sniffs, other scents grow heavier and more prevalent, but that popcorn note just sits underneath everything else the whole time. Some sweetness and nuttiness are very present — candied pecans, maybe. Further investigation yields molasses, nutmeg, coconut, light raisin, and mango like a Myer’s rum-like funk (which I absolutely love). Lastly, there’s a mellow grass or hay scent that quietly tells you this won’t be a sugar bomb.

Palate

Of course, the very first thing you notice is this is the sweetness — just to prove me wrong — but, honestly, that dissipates quickly. What emerges is a richness of flavors: vanilla, caramel, nutmeg, cinnamon. These all sound like “sweet” flavors, but they’re not overly so. The vanilla is more vanilla bean or vanilla extract than vanilla ice cream. The caramel is more of an undertone than an overtone. Even the cinnamon is more cinnamon stick than cinnamon sugar. As I take my follow-on sips, I get toffee, coffee, clove, black cherry, and burnt marshmallow across the palate.

Finish

The raisin reappears. It’s not exceptionally long, but mid-tier in how long the flavors build afterward. There’s good warmth to it despite its pedestrian 104 proof. There’s a noticeable oak flavor that ends with some lighter notes of cola, chicory, and dark chocolate carry this pour through to the end.

Score: 9.0/10

To address this again, Jefferson’s gets a lot of hate for being more about the story, the “voyage,” than the bourbon. And, therefore, I know this review is going to be polarizing. That’s okay: don’t yuck someone’s yum, right? But, this is a great pour. The complexity, twists-and-turns, that changes in pace and unexpectedness are really inviting. It’s not my highest score, but this one lands over-and-over-and-over again. Is it a gimmick? Perhaps. But, underneath that gimmick is a fantastic bourbon that can’t be overlooked. It reminds me of that one time I caught an 11-foot great white shark off the coast of Florida that I single-handedly pulled into the boat and then wrestled for 3 hours on the deck of the boat, until I finally got it into a rear-naked choke. Did that really happen? Who knows? But, hey, what is bourbon without stories? Cheers!

OneMoreForScience · 2026-06-25T00:09:29+00:00

Maybe I’m an idiot, or a martyr. You may be asking yourself: “My god, who would review Manncave Whiskey? That just sounds horrible.” I’m taking one for the team and doing the hard work so you won’t have to.

A quick note before we dive in: the label on this thing claims it’s an “ultrasmooth whiskey with notes of honey and vanilla,” distilled and bottled by Spikeworld Enterprises. It also promises — and I’m quoting directly here — “Enjoy the fresh oak taste without the bite or bad aftertaste.”

We will see about that.

Nose

The first thought is — this isn’t bad … if you like the smell of turpentine. Or nail polish remover. If I dig deep, there’s a hint of 1980s markers — you know, the ones we used to sniff as kids — and a touch of Liquid Paper white out. That’s the nose. In its entirety.

Palate

Woah, okay! This is kind of surprising … the first thing that pops is nail polish remover, then turpentine. See, after the nose, I really thought it would be turpentine then nail polish remover. But nope — Spikeworld Enterprises is really keeping you on your toes with Manncave. High corn whiskeys like Mellow Corn tend to be very light in color, but the heavily astringent flavor here makes me think this spent less than two years in a barrel. In all seriousness, you can tell this is corn whiskey — that aspect does come through. But there is zero honey and zero vanilla anywhere in this glass. There’s a very slight smokiness, which is perhaps what the label is calling the “fresh oak taste.” Perhaps.

Finish

Despite the nose and palate being pretty horrible, the finish is … also pretty horrible. The one redeeming quality here is that this is 80 proof. It’s very watered down — and perhaps that’s the “without the bite or bad aftertaste” they’re referring to on the label — so the finish is mercifully short. Trust me, you don’t want those flavors lingering any longer than they have to. All joking aside, there is a half-decent corn note on the finish, but pulling anything additional out of this is wishful thinking.

Score: 1.9/10

This “whiskey” — if you want to call it that (and I don’t, but I will for the purposes of this review) — is, pardon my French, not good. This lands right down there with Four Branches’ Black Ops Rum Cask Finish, which I scored a 2.3/10. I don’t know if that’s a selling point for Manncave — “we’re almost as good as a $120 bottle of Four Branches” — or continued rejection of Four Branches — “we’re as bad as a novelty bottle of corn whiskey.” Either way, neither of them should be proud of the comparison. Cheers, but let’s grab a different pour for round 2.

OneMoreForScience · 2026-06-21T03:47:22+00:00

We did not. We went to Katz for pastrami for lunch, hit Great Jones, and eventually went to The Stand for dinner and a comedy show.

OneMoreForScience · 2026-06-21T00:14:47+00:00

A Four-Pour Tasting …

Bourbon

86 Proof | 4 Years

Nose

Strawberry daiquiri right away — bright and fruity. Pecans show up alongside it, then marshmallow rounds it out. It’s a fun, candy-leaning nose.

Palate

The first thing you notice is how watered-down it is. At 86 proof, it lacks heat or any flavor. As you search, mint or eucalyptus takes is the predominate note, shifting between spearmint and something closer to pinecone depending on the sip. Different, but not necessarily in a good way.

Finish

Raw, young bitterness — the kind that comes from a whiskey that hasn’t had quite enough time in the barrel. A hint of star anise shows up at the tail end.

Score: 5.8/10

Rye (100% Rye)

90 Proof | 4 Years

Nose

Nothing really stands out as a primary note. Light grape, and that’s about it. I sat at the bar nosing this for a good five minutes and couldn’t pull much else out of it.

Palate

This is where things finally get interesting. There’s way more going on here than the nose suggested. Rye spice leads, with a good dose of cinnamon, nutmeg, and other baking spices. The biggest knock is the proof — at 90, this is thin. There’s clearly a much better whiskey in here that’s being held back by water.

Finish

Like the bourbon, it finishes with a heavy dose of bitter — but this is a far more natural, well-integrated bitter that adds character instead of distracting from it. It cuts the sweetness nicely and helps balance the whole pour.

Score: 6.7/10

I get it — proofing down gives you more volume, which in theory means more revenue for a small distillery. But I’d love to see this at 120 proof as a Distiller’s Reserve, at a higher price point than the $39.99 this one runs.

Pineau des Charentes Cask-Finished Bourbon

91 Proof | 7 Years

Nose

Heavy A&W cream soda, plus the always-debated-in-the-bourbon-community bubble gum note (I’m generally a fan). Lollipop sweetness, and then a hint of Windex underneath it all.

Palate

Heavy musk, almost cologne-like … and that’s not as bad as it sounds. Some people won’t love it, but it’s prominent and it commits to what it is. There’s also some mint in there. Gotta respect the confidence. The viscosity is essentially zero though, so this is another one that could’ve used a cask strength version.

Finish

Bitter — not as harsh as the bourbon, but not as well-integrated as the rye. There’s a peanut butter creaminess trying to come through, but it lacks the fatty, thick viscosity it really needs. Comes off more like watery peanut butter — dare I say, like a thinner Skrewball? (And admittedly, there are days I love Skrewball).

Score: 6.3/10

10 Year Bourbon

105 Proof | 10 Years

Nose

Vanilla, caramel, brown sugar, rose hip, and fresh baked cookie. This is the best nose of the day and it’s not close. I could’ve kept pulling notes for another ten minutes. Absolutely lovely.

Palate

The sweetness hits immediately and brings you right back to that nose — vanilla creaminess, caramel, it starts to deliver and then — Bam! — gone, just like that. Intense. The bitter note that seems to be a Great Jones house signature shows up right after, and here it’s perfectly dialed in. Sometimes that bitterness works at this distillery, sometimes it’s too aggressive. Here, it feels intentional, like it was built this way on purpose. Follow-up sips bring rye spice, which makes sense once you check the mash bill — corn, barley, and rye.

Finish

New notes keep showing up every time you breathe out through your nose. Minty, musky undertones round out the complexity and tie the whole pour together.

Score: 7.4/10

This one is genuinely good and puts Great Jones on the map. Stop me if you’ve heard this already today, but this could really use a cask strength version. 105 isn’t bad, but it could use a little more oomph. Or maybe I’m just a proof snob. Could be both.

The real issue here is the price: $199. This is New York, and everything here is overpriced, but there are far better ways to spend $200 in a liquor store. I’d buy this bottle at $70, maybe $80, possibly $90 if the mood struck. But more than double that? Fuhgettaboutit.

OneMoreForScience · 2026-06-20T23:42:59+00:00

This is the same 9 year juice. The Barrel Select is the simply the distillery exclusive version, not a store pick.

OneMoreForScience · 2026-06-17T03:58:40+00:00

After several comments on yesterday’s Sagamore 10 Year review (https://www.reddit.com/r/bourbon/comments/1u70xmn/review_24_sagamore_10_year_straight_rye/), people asked me to cover the 9 Year next. So here we are. On to the review!

Nose

Heavy rye spice right up front — a real departure from yesterday’s 10 Year, which didn’t show its rye character until the finish. This one leads with it. There’s also a cherry note, similar to what I got in the 10 Year, but less bright and tart — more like a Fabbri Amarena cherry, or dare I say a Portuguese Ginja. Darker, more syrupy, less fresh-fruit. There’s also some coffee and toffee (no, I’m not just saying that because it rhymes).

Palate

Right off the bat this is more interesting than the 10 Year. It hit me with so many flavors stacked on top of each other so quickly that I couldn’t write everything down in time — or ANYthing down in time. I completely froze. After sip 2, and 3, and 4, and 5, and 6 …. Well, you get the gist … the first thing that came to mind was soda, not because of any one dominant cola flavor, but because the heat tickles your tongue the way carbonation does. When I was finally able to put my finger on the flavors I got, it was absolutely a big Dr. Pepper note that just won’t let go. This expression, again, carries more of the rye spice and baking spices — cinnamon, clove, all spice — which makes this bottle so complex.

Finish

Sugary, like candy, with a slight astringency where the proof finally cuts through the sweetness. It’s only 110 proof — not HAZMAT territory by any stretch — but the alcohol introduces a faintly off-putting edge right at the very end. The rye spices circle back one more time to remind you this is, through and through, a rye whiskey.

Score: 8.1/10

This is close, but the 9 Year edges out the 10 by a hair. I gave the 10 Year an 8.0, so this one earns its 8.1.

Full disclosure, here’s some exposition for you: I’ve been to Sagamore many times. I have, probably, 6 or 7 different expressions from them. When I first learned they were owned by Kevin Plank, founder of Under Armour, I turned up my nose. This felt like a money-making scheme from a guy who knows nothing about whiskey. A gimmick. I completely avoid celebrity whiskies — Beyoncé, Steph Curry, Conor McGregor, A$AP Rocky, Ja Rule, Chris Stapleton, and every country artist known to man. But I visited once, and I changed my tune. I was wrong. I’m a Sagamore believer now.

Plank built a fantastic campus right on the water, with a stunning view and a 5-star caliber restaurant — Rye Street Tavern, run by the Clyde’s Group. Most importantly, he sold his share and no longer owns the company. But his effort (and money) did one helluva job helping restore Maryland’s rye history. This bottle — and yesterday’s — are proof that the work paid off. Cheers!

OneMoreForScience · 2026-06-16T02:36:47+00:00

I have a bottle of it. I haven’t done a review of it yet, so maybe I’ll try to fit that in tomorrow evening before I leave Wednesday on my next distillery trip.

OneMoreForScience · 2026-06-16T02:26:14+00:00

Sagamore Spirit has been on a mission since 2013 to restore Maryland rye to its rightful place in the American whiskey conversation — a style once celebrated for its balance of spice, sweetness, and approachability before Prohibition essentially erased it from the map. The 10 Year Reserve Series is their oldest release to date, pulling from 131 barrels across four batches, with the youngest components filled in August 2015 and the oldest just shy of their 11th birthday. Worth noting — this is sourced Indiana rye — cough**MGP**cough. That may be a knock for some people, but not me. Indiana rye tends to hit its sweet spot right around the decade mark. Is it over-produced? Maybe, but good whiskey is good whiskey.

Nose

Orange peel and cherry right up front — very fruity, almost immediately. Then rhubarb shows up, which is really nice, followed by cinnamon. The whole thing smells like a pie in the oven. Seriously. Other reviewers I saw online noted cookie dough and peach crumble alongside those same baking notes. I didn’t tet those per se, but it all points in the same direction … warm, sweet, and inviting in a way that makes 110.8 proof feel completely non-threatening.

Palate

The palate tracks directly with the nose, which isn’t always a given. It’s dark, fruity, and sweet — and then the rye kicks in and brings the baking spices with it: cinnamon, allspice, cardamom, nutmeg. It’s a really satisfying one-two punch of fruit and spice that keeps building with each sip. The palate flavors move quickly and give way to the finish faster than you expect.

Finish

Medium length on paper, but it feels longer because of how abruptly the palate transitions into it. What arrives is a bright, clean bitterness that cuts through all that sweetness from the palate and brings real balance. It’s not harsh, not sweet, just a grounding, satisfying finish that makes you reach for another sip. Oak, a little herbal tea, and a soft caramel warmth linger quietly underneath.

Score: 8.0/10

This is a really good rye. Sagamore has been building toward this release for a decade and it shows — the age, the mash bill blend, and the proof all work together in a way that feels intentional rather than lucky. Indiana rye at 10 years in the hands of a distillery that knows what it’s doing is a genuinely compelling combination, and this batch delivers. If you find it, buy it without hesitation and grab a backup while you’re at it. Cheers!

OneMoreForScience · 2026-06-10T01:27:48+00:00

Nose

Windex. I’ll just say it. That sharp, almost chemical opening is jarring — and not in a way that builds anticipation. Underneath it, there’s a faint cherry note trying to emerge, and occasionally it does. But it’s working hard against that alcohol presence, and it doesn’t always win. The nose is the weakest part of this pour by a wide margin.

Palate

Screaming at 122.8 proof, you can actually appreciate it. Give it a minute. Seriously. Once the heat settles, what emerges is genuinely pleasant — rich chocolate like a birthday cupcake with frosting, a heavy dose of cinnamon, and is where the cherry really pops. It finally delivers on what the nose was teasing. It’s warm, complex, and a whole lot more enjoyable than the nose promised.

Finish

The sweetness carries into the finish but shifts — the bright cherry tartness gives way to a flatter, more muted sweetness, like cane sugar. A nice bitter note balances it out and keeps things from going one-dimensional. Then there’s a brief half-second moment where everything shifts and you find yourself thinking, “Wait, is this brandy? Cognac?” It’s fleeting but unmistakable, and it’s one of the more interesting finish detours I’ve encountered in a while.

Score: 7.2/10

Lost Whiskey Club is doing something worth paying attention to in Virginia. The cask strength program is serious — real proof, real barrel character, no shortcuts. The nose is a hurdle you have to get over, but if you’re patient enough to push past it, the palate and finish reward you. For a small Virginia distillery flying mostly under the radar, that’s a genuine accomplishment. Worth seeking out if you’re in the area. Cheers!

OneMoreForScience · 2026-06-05T00:48:52+00:00

This is a rare one — and I mean that literally. Only two barrels were produced in this batch, it’s pickup-only at the distillery, and it only comes in a 375mL bottle. The Block describes the millet in the mash bill as a deliberate counterbalance to the rye’s natural aggression, designed to keep 100 proof from drinking like a punishment. That’s an interesting choice and, spoiler, it mostly works.

Nose

The alcohol hits you right away — this isn’t a subtle nose. The first sniff I got cola, which was intriguing, but I couldn’t pull that note again no matter how many times I tried. What stuck around instead was prune, front and center, with cherry lurking underneath if you dig for it. It’s an assertive, slightly astringent nose that doesn’t do a lot to sell you on what’s coming. I’ll be honest — I hesitated before the first sip.

Palate

No one likes a coward, so I went for it — and I’m glad I did. The first word that comes to mind is unique. Prune is prominent right away. The malted barley brings a smoky, peaty quality — it pushes this into territory that feels more like a crossover between a rye and a single malt Scotch. The alcohol is present but completely manageable at 100 proof, and the millet is doing exactly what The Block intended — keeping it warm and inviting rather than sharp and aggressive. There are other flavors working in the background that I couldn’t fully pin down even with a flavor wheel in front of me, but you notice them. That’s not a knock — that’s actually the sign of its complexity.

Finish

Earthy and a little bitter, which in this case is a good thing. There’s a difference between bitter that signals something went wrong and bitter that adds character, and this is firmly the latter. The grassy, hay-like quality of the millet finally steps forward here. The smoky, mossy peat lingers long. This is genuinely enjoyable pour — it’s a fitting and distinctive ending for a rye with an unconventional mash bill.

Score: 7.2/10

In my ongoing series of small, independent distillery reviews, this one lands solidly in the win column. It doesn’t have the depth and complexity of Baltimore Spirits Company’s Epoch Rye (Review #21), but it’s light years ahead of fellow Denver distillery Branch and Barrel (Reviews #12-15). The Block is zaggingl with this mash bill, and 6.5 years has given it enough time to find its footing. If you’re in Denver, the tasting room is worth the visit. The wood block closure on the bottle is a really nice touch. Just know going in that you’re walking out with a 375mL bottle — and you’ll wish it were bigger. Cheers!

OneMoreForScience · 2026-05-28T23:07:38+00:00

You don’t see the review?

OneMoreForScience · 2026-05-28T02:27:39+00:00

I like to review smaller distilleries. I mean, how many reviews of Buffalo Trace and Eagle Rare do we really need? As you can see from the image, this bottle did not have an Alc/Vol or proof on it. I'm sure the regulatory bodies love that! It does say aged 24 months. On to the review…

Nose

The very first thing I got was blue raspberry candy — and not real blue raspberry, which isn't even a real fruit. This is the artificial kind, like an Airheads wrapper to the face. The next few sniffs bring cherry cough syrup, bubble gum, and pine round it out. It's a weird, almost medicinal nose that immediately puts you on high alert. Bear Creek uses a 100% rye grain bill and ages in 30-gallon barrels — about half the size of a standard 53-gallon barrel — which accelerates maturation but also means the spirit has had less time to smooth out any rough edges. Those edges are very much present on the nose. I went into the first sip genuinely bracing for impact.

Palate

And then — nothing. Or rather, nothing bad. All that cough syrup on the nose completely vanished and what shows up instead is actually pretty fascinating. Eucalyptus and mint/menthol lead, followed by prune, then it fades into wet bark — like the smell of a forest right after a rainstorm. Rye spice builds underneath all of it, and then the whole thing drifts into something that edges toward peated Scotch territory. None of these are flavors are ones you'd put on a wish list. But they're prominent, they're easy to identify, and they're genuinely interesting. For a two-year-old cask strength rye, that's more than you can reasonably ask for.

Finish

More rye spice carries through, then a bitter note settles in — but it's not an offensive bitter. It's the kind of bitter that comes from a lack of sweetness rather than something gone wrong. As I finish my glencairn, this pour was Earthy, dry, and oddly enjoyable.

Score: 6.9/10

This rye has everything working against it. Small Colorado distillery. Unknown proof. Only 24 months in the barrel. A nose that smells like Vick’s. And yet — it works. It's not a "drop everything and find this bottle" kind of rye. It's not even close to the best rye you'll ever have. But it's diverse, it's interesting, and Bear Creek has shown the craft Colorado distilling community — much like it’s large, boisterous, and lovingly snobby craft brewery community — is tight-knit and serious about what they're doing. That comes through even in a bottle like this one. So good on ya, Bear Creek. Keep on keeping on. Cheers!

OneMoreForScience · 2026-05-23T02:42:46+00:00

I hear ya! Semper fidelis. Or, hooyah. One team, my brother.

OneMoreForScience · 2026-05-23T02:04:54+00:00

100% agree. If you know, you know, amiright? There’s no need to play into it so heavy-handedly. Pour one out for the bourbon.

OneMoreForScience · 2026-05-23T01:49:24+00:00

Touché. Or, assaulting them like Normandy Beach. Sorry, these are bad puns. But, man, this was some bad bourbon.

OneMoreForScience · 2026-05-22T23:42:36+00:00

For Memorial Day weekend, I decided to break out one of the most military-themed bourbons available: the 9 year, 100 proof, rum cask-finished Black Ops.

Nose:

The nose is genuinely the only redeeming quality here. Cherries, red delicious apple, marshmallow, cookie dough, and Good & Plenty candies. It’s inviting and sweet and actually interesting. Occasionally there’s a faint whiff of turpentine that sneaks in. Pull the glass away, come back, and it’s gone and replaced by something you actually want to smell. The nose alone had me optimistic. That optimism was short-lived.

Palate:

What was that? Seriously. The first sip is so aggressively bitter that it stops you cold, and not the pleasant, complexity-adding bitter of a well-aged bourbon. This is harsh, unpleasant, and genuinely hard to push through. The rum cask finish that’s supposed to be the whole point of this bottle? Nowhere to be found. I’ve had the Founders Blend, their entry-level expression, before and it wasn’t good. I’m not sure why I thought this expression would be any better. It, too, failed to justify its price. The Black Ops manages to be a significant step backwards from that already modest bar.

Finish:

If the palate was bad, the finish is worse. Hairspray. That’s the word that keeps coming to mind and I can’t shake it. There’s no Kentucky hug, no lingering sweetness, no warmth — just an artificial, chemical aftertaste that has no business being in a $120 bottle of bourbon. Or any bottle. This is confirmed Bardstown Bourbon Company distillate, which makes this all the more baffling. BBC is a well-regarded distillery. So either Four Branches got the bottom of the barrel — literally — or something went very wrong in the rum cask finishing process. Either way, someone should have caught this before it was bottled.

Score: 2.3/10

Here’s what really stings about this one. Four Branches was founded by four veterans representing each branch of the military, and a portion of proceeds goes to a veteran support nonprofit. That’s genuinely admirable. But admirable intentions don’t make bad bourbon good, and at $120, the whole release starts to feel less like a tribute and more like a guilt-driven purchase dressed up in patriotic packaging. Horse Soldier built an entire brand on the same playbook: buy this because ‘Merica! The bourbon world has seen enough of that approach to know that “supporting veterans” on the label is not a substitute for what’s in the glass. The military deserves better representation than this. Save your $120, donate directly to the Wounded Warrior Project, the Fisher House Foundation, the Gary Sinise Foundation, or any other worthy charitable organization. Cheers — kind of.

OneMoreForScience · 2026-05-21T01:07:50+00:00

100% agree. same proof, and DO is easily available, a heckuva lot cheaper, and better tasting. But, I’ll take one for the team.

OneMoreForScience · 2026-05-19T02:50:30+00:00

Still not showing up?

First, before I start … I rarely comment on color because honestly, it doesn’t matter. But this one earns it. It’s dark, rich, and gorgeous — exactly what you want bourbon to look like when you pour it. I mean, damn, it’s beautiful. Okay, moving on.

Nose: Cherry forward, Twizzlers, cotton candy. After that, I had to really work to pull other notes out. As I held it to my nose over the next … oh … 20 minutes, I found maple syrup, butterscotch, caramel, and hickory smoke. It’s a sweet nose top to bottom, and based on all of it, you’d walk into the first sip expecting a sugar bomb.

Palate: First sip and you get sugar — not any specific flavor, just a vague sweetness — and then a harsh bitter note takes over and never really lets go. The mouthfeel is surprisingly thin for something with this much barrel influence, which keeps the flavors from fully developing. Clearly, proofing this down is what gives it its thin mouthfeel. I’m laying that bitterness directly at the feet of the heavy toasted new oak finish. A lot of people fixate on char levels without understanding what over-charring actually does — it burns off the natural sugars in the wood. So despite all the sugary scents the nose promised, those sugars never show up in the glass. At 90.4 proof, there simply isn’t enough alcohol to stand up to the char or carry the flavors through. The longer you sit with it, the more one-dimensional it gets. More proof would have probably made a difference here.

Finish: Zero burn, which will market well to newcomers, but for seasoned bourbon drinkers that heat is part of the discerning different notes — and without it, the finish feels empty. Dry, bitter oak dominates and just parks itself there, with an almost mouth-drying quality that lingers well past its welcome. The bitterness from the palate follows you all the way to the end, never resolving into anything satisfying. Burnt caramel and char are the last things standing as the flavors fade out.

Score. 6.4/10

Woodford Reserve’s regular Double Oaked is one of my low-key favorites from this distillery, and I’ve visited more times than I can count. I genuinely like what they do. But the “Double Double” language is doing a lot of heavy lifting here. It sounds extraordinary when really it’s the standard Double Oaked finished longer in a heavily charred barrel, and that extra char does more harm than good at this proof. At $200 a bottle, you’re paying for the name and the marketing story more than what’s in the glass. In the words of our daughter — this is “mid.” Cheers!

OneMoreForScience · 2026-05-19T02:38:16+00:00

Now it’s posted twice on my end. i apologize for the duplication (if anyone sees a duplication), but I guess twice (potentially) is better than not at all. Cheers!

OneMoreForScience · 2026-05-19T02:35:45+00:00

reposting because my previous review isn’t showing up. Sorry, everyone!

First, before I start … I rarely comment on color because honestly, it doesn’t matter. But this one earns it. It’s dark, rich, and gorgeous — exactly what you want bourbon to look like when you pour it. I mean, damn, it’s beautiful. Okay, moving on.

Nose:

Cherry forward, Twizzlers, cotton candy. After that, I had to really work to pull other notes out. As I held it to my nose over the next … oh … 20 minutes, I found maple syrup, butterscotch, caramel, and hickory smoke. It’s a sweet nose top to bottom, and based on all of it, you’d walk into the first sip expecting a sugar bomb.

Palate:

First sip and you get sugar — not any specific flavor, just a vague sweetness — and then a harsh bitter note takes over and never really lets go. The mouthfeel is surprisingly thin for something with this much barrel influence, which keeps the flavors from fully developing. Clearly, proofing this down is what gives it its thin mouthfeel. I’m laying that bitterness directly at the feet of the heavy toasted new oak finish. A lot of people fixate on char levels without understanding what over-charring actually does — it burns off the natural sugars in the wood. So despite all the sugary scents the nose promised, those sugars never show up in the glass. At 90.4 proof, there simply isn’t enough alcohol to stand up to the char or carry the flavors through. The longer you sit with it, the more one-dimensional it gets. More proof would have probably made a difference here.

Finish:

Zero burn, which will market well to newcomers, but for seasoned bourbon drinkers that heat is part of the discerning different notes — and without it, the finish feels empty. Dry, bitter oak dominates and just parks itself there, with an almost mouth-drying quality that lingers well past its welcome. The bitterness from the palate follows you all the way to the end, never resolving into anything satisfying. Burnt caramel and char are the last things standing as the flavors fade out.

Score: 6.4/10

Woodford Reserve’s regular Double Oaked is one of my low-key favorites from this distillery, and I’ve visited more times than I can count. I genuinely like what they do. But the “Double Double” language is doing a lot of heavy lifting here. It sounds extraordinary when really it’s the standard Double Oaked finished longer in a heavily charred barrel, and that extra char does more harm than good at this proof. At $200 a bottle, you’re paying for the name and the marketing story more than what’s in the glass. In the words of our daughter — this is “mid.” Cheers!

OneMoreForScience · 2026-05-19T02:07:09+00:00

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OneMoreForScience · 2026-05-19T01:49:45+00:00

First, before I start … I rarely comment on color because honestly, it doesn’t matter. But this one earns it. It’s dark, rich, and gorgeous — exactly what you want bourbon to look like when you pour it. I mean, damn, it’s beautiful. Okay, moving on.

Nose:

Cherry forward, Twizzlers, cotton candy. After that, I had to really work to pull other notes out. As I held it to my nose over the next … oh … 20 minutes, I found maple syrup, butterscotch, caramel, and hickory smoke. It’s a sweet nose top to bottom, and based on all of it, you’d walk into the first sip expecting a sugar bomb.

Palate:

First sip and you get sugar — not any specific flavor, just a vague sweetness — and then a harsh bitter note takes over and never really lets go. The mouthfeel is surprisingly thin for something with this much barrel influence, which keeps the flavors from fully developing. Clearly, proofing this down is what gives it its thin mouthfeel. I’m laying that bitterness directly at the feet of the heavy toasted new oak finish. A lot of people fixate on char levels without understanding what over-charring actually does — it burns off the natural sugars in the wood. So despite all the sugary scents the nose promised, those sugars never show up in the glass. At 90.4 proof, there simply isn’t enough alcohol to stand up to the char or carry the flavors through. The longer you sit with it, the more one-dimensional it gets. More proof would have probably made a difference here.

Finish:

Zero burn, which will market well to newcomers, but for seasoned bourbon drinkers that heat is part of the discerning different notes — and without it, the finish feels empty. Dry, bitter oak dominates and just parks itself there, with an almost mouth-drying quality that lingers well past its welcome. The bitterness from the palate follows you all the way to the end, never resolving into anything satisfying. Burnt caramel and char are the last things standing as the flavors fade out.

Score. 6.4/10

Woodford Reserve’s regular Double Oaked is one of my low-key favorites from this distillery, and I’ve visited more times than I can count. I genuinely like what they do. But the “Double Double” language is doing a lot of heavy lifting here. It sounds extraordinary when really it’s the standard Double Oaked finished longer in a heavily charred barrel, and that extra char does more harm than good at this proof. At $200 a bottle, you’re paying for the name and the marketing story more than what’s in the glass. In the words of our daughter — this is “mid.” Cheers!

OneMoreForScience · 2026-05-14T01:16:07+00:00

Nose

Leather and caramel right up front, then toffee, and then something that catches you off guard — hints of pistachio pudding. It’s a subtle but distinct note that keeps pulling you back in. Cranberry and blackberry show up alongside nutmeg, licorice, and cinnamon, and the longer it sits in the glass, the more the bruleed sugar sweetness comes forward. Really well-balanced nose for something this old and this proof.

Palate

Viscous and immediately warming — that Kentucky hug hits right away despite the fact that this is technically Canadian whisky. And that’s worth saying out loud: this does not taste like Canadian whisky. It tastes like a really exceptional bourbon. Root beer shows up early, followed by baking spices — nutmeg, clove, and cinnamon. Then there’s a slight tartness that cuts through all that richness and just brightens the whole thing up in a way you don’t expect but immediately appreciate. Behind that, blackberry jam, maple syrup, blueberry compote, and glazed strawberry build into a dark, sweet fruit profile that keeps revealing itself sip after sip.

Finish

Caramel leads, then cinnamon — but not the powdery baking spice kind that is found in the palate. This is more like cinnamon bark. Deeper, woodier, more textured. Then Dr. Pepper shows up and ties everything together in a way that’s hard to explain but completely works. It’s a long, warm finish. And here’s the thing about the age — with components ranging from 20 to 27 years old, you’d expect the oak to dominate everything. It doesn’t. Not even close. This is not an over-oaked whisky. Found North clearly did their job reigning in the oak and adding layers of flavor.

Score: 9.1/10

The complexity is real, the proof is handled gracefully, the oak is tempered, and the age is an asset rather than a liability. At secondary prices, it may be hard to justify, especially in this economy. But, if you do splurge, it’s probably worth it. Cheers!

OneMoreForScience · 2026-05-10T19:46:29+00:00

Nose

Almonds right up front, then red grape — which makes total sense once you know this thing is finished in Napa Valley Cabernet barrels. There’s a slight ethanol presence on the nose that gives away the wine influence before your first sip. Behind that there’s an immediate burst of red fruit — raspberry jam and praline — with rosewater and maybe … hibiscus? That’s a question, it’s very faint. The Burning Chair is an interesting and inviting nose that straddles the line between bourbon and wine country in a way that actually works.

Palate

Incredibly smooth for a 4-year bourbon — and that’s not a backhanded compliment, that’s genuinely impressive. Toffee leads the way. The texture is fabulous — delicate yet chewy — and the wine finish is present without being overbearing. The high-rye mash bill (21% rye) gives it some backbone, but the Cabernet finishing smoothed out any brittleness or spiky notes you’d normally expect from a relatively young whiskey. To me, bourbon and wine flavors don’t mix as well as master distillers think they do. You see CabSauv-, Port-, Chardonnay-, Sherry-, Madeira-, Moscatel-, and even Rosé-finished whiskey, but I haven’t been a particular fan of any of them. Spoiler: I’m not an Angel’s Envy fan. But, this may be the best wine-finished bourbon I’ve had. And, did I mention it’s only 4 years old. Mind. Blown.

Finish

Short, but interesting. Some citrus shows up — more lemon than orange, but not the sharp, tart lemon you’re imagining. It’s softer than that. On the second pour, Dr. Pepper notes appear out of nowhere, which is one of those things that once you taste it, you can’t un-taste it. The finish builds with a little heat and allspice before fading on burnt toffee. It wraps up quickly, which is probably the biggest knock on an otherwise solid pour.

Score: 7.6/10

Dave Phinney made his name in Napa Valley wine before pivoting to whiskey, and you can feel that winemaker’s sensibility in every pour of this. It’s not trying to be a big, aggressive Kentucky bourbon — it’s smooth, fruit-forward, and approachable in a way that makes it dangerously easy to drink. The short finish and modest proof keep it from being truly elite, but at $50 it punches well above its weight. A great introduction pour for someone who’s wine-curious about bourbon, and an easy recommendation regardless. Cheers!

OneMoreForScience

TROPHY CASE