I don’t know precisely how one goes about acquiring a sore throat in the dog days of summer, but I seem to have managed it. I blame the rug rats at the local ball game I attended the other day.
It seems an appropriate time to discuss my preferred method of treatment: the frequent application of whiskey. This evening I’ve managed to do a fair amount of damage to two different bottles of bourbon - one “Buck”, a small batch 90 proof which bills itself as a Kentucky whiskey but is bottled in San Jose. The other is George Dickel’s No.8, an 80 proof distilled in Tennessee and bottled in Connecticut.
Both of these I picked up for between $25-$30 each from the same shelf, which makes sense since they aren’t far off from one another in quality. The Buck at 90 proof is a bit paler than the Dickel No. 8, and predictably has a smaller nose. Its bottle is sexier at first glance, which should always make one slightly suspicious. In terms of medicinal value, the award would have to go to Buck, but I definitely prefer the Dickel No. 8. It just has a lot more going for it, although I wouldn’t say it’s terribly sophisticated - it just knows its way around. The Buck bills itself as the drink of cowboys and blah blah blah. The No. 8 didn’t feel the need to explain itself with a small card attached to its neck by elastic band.
I suspect a lot of bourbon is shuttled around and mixed by bottlers from the same half dozen distilleries. At some point, there’s not much point in reviewing the stuff unless it’s a very small batch. Bulleit is a good example. It's one I've thought about reviewing, but the difference between it and these other two I find pretty marginal. I suppose it might be good for a GIMPing and rebranding as “Bulette” though. I really need to get back to single malts.
Tales from the Yawning Portal
1 hour ago