Skip to main content

Basil Hayden's Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whisk'o

I've heard about Basil Hayden's for years, but somehow just never managed to buy myself a bottle. I was too busy to try the BEST, that's why.

Okay, okay sure...I'm an admitted bon vivant and I love my whiskey. Therefore, every bottle that's right in front of me is the "best I've ever had!!" Last week it was Bulleit. Two weeks ago it was Woodford Reserve.This week it's Basil Hayden's BUT...let that not invalidate the seriousness of what I'm about to impart to you.

If you're an enthusiast of the whiskey-type beverages, you must try Basil Hayden's Small Batch, Eight-year old Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey. This shit is so smooth you'll wish it came out of your tap instead of water. You'll be tempted to drink a shot of it at breakfast, with your bacon & eggs. You'll wish your only job in life was to sit on the porch and sip glasses of this shiz. You could do that, of course, but then you really would have no job and therefore have no money to buy any more of this beautiful amber nectar.

Anyway...though a great drinker, I'm a bit of an amateur "taster"...for that you'll have to contact my esteemed colleague Andrew Soliday, who has an endless reserve of opinions on such of the finer things in life. But, here's my attempt:

This is definitely a sweeter bourbon, but it is extremely well-balanced and has a nice hot oaky "bite" to it without making you need to shake your head and go "WOOOOOO!!!" afterward. Although, sometimes that's good, too! For a sipping bourbon, this stuff--in my opinion--sets the bar. It has that smooth, glassy quality about it that makes you want to roll it around a bit before you swallow. And...a slight hint of something extra...some spice, maybe a bit of rye, with a pleasing hint of butterscotch in there too. Really, a very complex but in every way smooth and easy-drinking bourbon. Too goddamned easy drinking, if you ask me. Best enjoyed neat...as all fine whiskey should be enjoyed.

So go out and buy some, it'll make you smile. There's a million worse ways to spend $30...trust me. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

New Yorker Fiction Review #146: "Three Short Moments in a Long Life" by John L'Heureux

Issue: May 9, 2016

Story: "Three Short Moments in a Long Life" by John L'Heureux

Rating: $

Review: I feel like this is a somewhat tired technique, straight out of Creative Writing 101: write a story consisting of three or four different snapshots or snippets out of a character's life at different ages, sort of like a series of written photographs. Fun perhaps, but strikes me as a bit amateurish. However, I also think L'Heureux succeeds here by pushing it a bit further, playing with the character's tentative attempts at something close to faith -- in childish, adult, and mature adult ways -- and tying all three "Short Moments" together in a subtle and readily decipherable way.

L'Heureux's prose and his frank humor and his ability to glorify and find the meaning in the mundane events and thoughts of every day life, and thereby turn the life of an ordinary person into a drama with meaning and significance puts me in mind of John Irving. As well a…

Water Review: San Pellegrino 250ml Bottle

Damn you, tiny little bottle of San Pellegrino. So little. So cute. But what are you really good for other than to make me wish I had a full bottle of Pellegrino? 
Good as a palate cleanser after a nice double espresso, I will give it that. But little else. The suave yet chaotic burst of Pellegrino bubbliness is still there, but with each sip you feel the tragedy of being that much closer to the end of the bottle, that much faster.

This is a bottle of water made specifically for the frustrated, for the meticulous, for the measurers among us with a penchant for the dainty. This water does not love you in the wild, on a sunny porch or with the raucous laughter of friends. No...much the opposite. Whatever that may be.

Best drunk in tiny, tiny sips, while forcing oneself through an unreadable and depressing Russian novel one does not want to read but feels one should, on a cold, wet day in December that promises four months of gloom and depression...or in pairs or threes and poured over …

New Yorker Fiction Review #151: "The Bog Girl" by Karen Russell

From the June 20 issue...

My loyal readers (if there are still any, which I doubt) will know I'm usually not a fan of Magical Realism, which, as you may also know, is Karen Russell's stock in trade. That said, there's nothing I love more than having my antipathy for magical realism shattered by an awesome story like "The Bog Girl."

Briefly, an Irish teenager discovers the body of a young woman who as been buried in a bog for over 2,000 years and begins to date her. What more do you need, right? If I'd read that one-line description somewhere else, and wasn't on a mission to review every New Yorker short story, I doubt I'd have read "The Bog Girl." But maybe I should start doing a George Costanza and do the opposite of everything I think I should do.

Where Russell succeeds here is in two main areas: 1.) Making us really love Cillian, the teenager who falls in love with the bog girl, and 2.) pulling the unbelievable trick making the characters…