About ten years ago, I basically turned my nose up at bourbon. I thought it was samey, funky, way too tannic and over-oaked, and far inferior to scotch, Japanese, or Irish whiskey. Probably about three years ago some kind of switch flipped in my mind, and I suddenly began to appreciate bourbon for what it was rather than what I wanted it to be.
All of that said, I still don't exactly feel like I can hang with the cool kids at the bourbon table. In fact, some of my tastes and predilections put me squarely at odds with the “correct” and established dogma of what makes one bourbon better than another. And in the world of guys who don't just write about spirits, but write about bourbon specifically, less isn't more. More is always more. Which means that the higher proof something is, the higher it should be regarded. Automatically.
I've previously mentioned that one needn't drink “cask strength” right out of the bottle; it's up to you what to do with it. I can get behind the cask strength movement if it were purely about giving the consumer more choice and value (a 120-proof bottle, if you're diluting it to the same strength as an 80-proof bottle, will pour 50% more drinks). But the “cask strength” bourbon bros always seem to be drinking this stuff at cask strength, as though that's the way god intended and he’ll throw you into a sulfurous pit of hellfire if he dares catch you adding any ice or water.
“I think the 1910 isn’t just the best of the Old Forester line, but maybe one of the best bourbons you can get for $55. ”
Frequent visitors to the site may remember I reviewed the Old Forester 1920 “Prohibition Edition” before and liked it. This was indeed the cask strength offering from Old Forester, and seems to be the blogosphere’s consensus “best pick” of what the distillery calls their Whisky Row series. But I was curious about the 1910, and once I tried it, I couldn't help but think that the distiller had made a bourbon just for me.
The 1910 is decadent stuff: absolutely, deliciously viscous, sticky, and luxurious. The dominant flavor that glues everything together in this pour is chocolate. Sweet, rich, dark chocolate. That flavor pairs wonderfully with the dark fruits on the arrival of the whiskey, like date and cherry, and it goes just as well with the richer flavors on the exit, like mocha and walnut. It's a slow-motion home run from the moments of the first sip until several seconds after the glass is empty. It makes a great first impression and is wonderful through the last dregs of the bottle. As of this review, I’m on my third.
Throughout the tasting experience, there's enough complexity to add intrigue. The level of oak here is basically at the proverbial redline for me: maxed out without being too much. The double aging process Old Forester is using with the 1910 results in a whiskey that's extremely tannic, but it translates into some great secondary flavors including coffee, clove, and that great one-two, oh-so-decadent punch of leather and tobacco. Throughout that whole process of appreciating the nuance, the 1910 lands once again on that touchstone of dark chocolate. Yes, please.
I'd written before with the OF 1920 that I appreciated the experience of being able to dilute the whiskey from cask strength into three different kinds of taste experiences. No lie, there: I still appreciate that. My preference, however, is always be to dump the stuff straight out of the bottle and over ice and have it be spectacular (without having to add just the right amount of water to hit that perfect bliss point between too bracing and too muted). Here especially, the 1910 is the winner. There are days when I don’t want to deal with fractions and percentages.
At the end of the day, it's a big 'ol world that we live in. Ultimately, I'd argue that if you're a bourbon fan, if you like the standard expression of Old Forester, and if you're wondering what going upmarket will do for you, it's entirely worth it to buy both the 1910 and the 1920 and see where your particular tastes are as a bourbon drinker. However, if you're just going to get one, I think the 1910 isn't just the best of the Old Forester line, but maybe one of the best bourbons you can get for $55.
I recommend it especially to those who like winding down the day with a drink that feels like a well-earned reward. It's a backrub, cigar, and a slice of chocolate cake in liquid form.
