Our whiskey has been barreling for nearly one month, so we decided to taste it and toast to Valentine’s Day. The logic being that we made the whiskey so it’s like, our baby or something. This whiskey-baby thing we created together. And it’s been maturing in its wooden barrel-womb for almost a month, which makes it dangerously premature. Ok, we know this analogy is total crap. We get it. We know—total crap. Also, creepy. Also, Valentine’s was two days ago. You can probably already tell, but we’re totally on top of our shit.
Anyways, we poured ourselves a couple shots from the barrel-womb and were immediately smacked in the face by oak smell. “Smells like barrel,” I said to Christian. From its clear beginnings, the whiskey’s tanned to a less-embarrassing golden-auburn color. The initial taste was bright and oaky and the finish warm, rich, and almost nutty. The middle was…whateves. All things considered, a thrilling preview of what’s to come.