Monday, January 14, 2013
A WHISKEY THAT LIVES UP TO ITS NAME: A review of Woodford Reserve
Before you even open the bottle to get a good whiff, you can tell that this is some serious, fancy-pants booze you’re holding. The bottle is slim, almost like a flounder, and the cork (yes, cork, not spin-top) even has the company’s logo emblazoned on it. There is a label on the bottom telling you which bottle number this is, from which batch. Granted, a lot of whiskies are doing that these days in order to give the impression (sometimes falsely) that their booze has a longstanding tradition and is well worth the over-inflated money you’re about to pay them.
How does Woodford Reserve measure up? At 90.4 proof, you know this stuff is capable of kicking your ass, but the smoothness is what will truly convince you. There is practically no burn, just a little heat with the aftertaste. Hence, you can probably drink this all day and be fucked up long before you realize it.
There is an oddness to its flavor though. It’s thick and very earthy, kind of like sucking on a twig. Yes, Woodford Reserve tastes kind of like, well, wood. This could actually put it on par with the Scottish Ardbeg, which tastes like you’re drinking a campfire.
No matter how you look at it, Woodford Reserve is strong, and it’s good stuff, well worth the $35 and change you’ll pay for a fifth.
Labels:
booze,
getcha fucked up,
whiskey,
woodford reserve
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