George Dickel TABASCO Brand Barrel Finish

This holiday season, I'm planning to sample a new whiskey daily throughout December. #lifegoals December 10th: A gift from my drinking habit on the tenth day of Christmas: I feel an equal measure of excitement and hesitation about this beverage. I enjoy whiskey. I enjoy Tabasco. Isn't that how it works? The nose: It's quite appealing. As a grown adult, I actually let out a giggle. There's a subtle sweetness present, but let's be direct about the main attraction. It's pure Tabasco. I approve. The body: This is fascinating. The original bourbon character is evident here. Maple syrup, powdered sugar, and a deep, sweet orange flavor combine wonderfully. The finish: This is where the Tabasco flavor truly emerges. The orange notes recede as the finish develops, and you become distinctly aware of the Tabasco's presence. It was subtle in the body but now tingles your lips. It fades very gradually, leaving a trace with every exhalation. Wow. This drink is incredible. A personal note: I consume Tabasco sauce with nearly every meal. I currently have two bottles in my refrigerator and two more in storage, plus four additional bottles of various types in the fridge. You could say I'm a devotee. It's also possible I'm accustomed to lower concentrations of this spice. This barrel-finished version doesn't even register. While I haven't had Dickel in quite some time, I don't recall noticing these specific flavors before. I suspect the Tabasco enhances certain elements or perhaps alters your palate to perceive new tastes. I understand this drink isn't for everyone, but if you're a spice enthusiast and appreciate bourbon, this is a must-try. Outstanding. Happy holidays. I'm unsure if I have 21 more unique whiskeys lined up, so if you're reading this and know of a readily available spirit you'd like me to experience (or endure) this holiday season, please share it in the comments. EDIT: I poured a three-finger serving. Everything described above was experienced with the first finger. I'd rate that portion a 4-star. The second finger was a challenge; I enjoyed it less, rating it 2.5 stars. I attempted to push through with the third finger, but my stomach began to ache. Perhaps 1.5 stars? It's difficult to assign a rating. Definitely consume this in very small amounts, even if you consider Tabasco your ultimate preference.

We shared this five ways with companions as a form of penalty, and I definitely feel penalized. I despise myself. I knew this would happen. This outlet for my rage with my own existence is my only comfort. Why, Lord!? It smells like pure Tabasco and hopelessness. Yet, it was tempting enough for me to sample this. It met my expectations. By that, I mean the palate reflected the nose in that it also made me question my actions. It tasted like aggression and heat with a hint of sweetness. I've consumed many things in my life, but few have left the impact this shot directly from the depths of Hades has. I regret that there is still liquid in my glass. I fear my palate and my glass will never recover. But I must endure. Though I have lost almost all self-respect, I will at least have the decency to finish this serving so I can meet my infant daughter's gaze tomorrow morning. When she faces adversity, or falls short, or performs poorly, I will recount this day. I will inform her that if I can endure this, she can endure that.

I don't consider myself particularly intelligent. I wish I were smarter. I wish I had taken those MCATs. I wish I had conceived the next major internet startup. But... I have to say, I'm at least two standard deviations more intelligent than the person who came up with this unusual pairing. I tried a shot of this yesterday at a local establishment, where it was served alongside celery and salt. When I'm drinking whiskey, I'm not sure I have the mental capacity for celery simultaneously. Celery is great, and whiskey is great, but together... I'm not convinced. Like texting during intimacy. Both are enjoyable, just not recommended together. Anyway, the same applies to Tabasco and whiskey. I enjoy Tabasco on my scrambled eggs. I enjoy Tabasco on my baked potato. I even add a bit to my pasta. But I'm not sure it belongs in my whiskey. An interesting experiment, but I'm unwilling to pay for it. The highlight was that while I was having this, I was holding a $90 bottle of the new Lagavulin Cairdeas, and the person tried to convince me to buy this instead of the Cairdeas, despite the $55 price difference.

Okay, you've acquired a bottle of Dickel Tabasco finish. What now? Perhaps consider it as a base for chicken wing sauce. Or maybe a pork rib seasoning? Honestly, the aroma is somewhat intriguing, though the prominent funk of the Tabasco detracts from it for me. I can see how some individuals might enjoy this, however. The taste is another matter; the sweet Dickel foundation combined with the strong, hot spice doesn't work for me. It reminds me somewhat of the Wild Turkey American Honey with Ghost Pepper. I wasn't fond of that either. Or the even less appealing Bird Dog Jalapeno Honey, which might be the worst thing I've ever sampled from a "whiskey bottle". So, use it to spice up your grilled chicken wings, or perhaps to aid your constipated canine by forcing it down its throat. Either way, I can't be labeled a "Dickel enthusiast" now. Unless you genuinely appreciate inexplicable, odd flavors, this red label Dickel is a definite pass.

Shared this with pals. Cost $4 each, and I'm regretting it. That $4 could have bought a Chick-Fil-a sandwich. Or some strong toothpaste to cleanse my mouth of this flavor. The smell reminds me of Hot Tamales, but then the peppers show up. And it all goes wrong. The whiskey provides sweetness and the Tabasco brings the heat, and that's a major misstep. I can't say I'd rather shove a toothbrush bristles-first up my urethra, but it's a close call. It makes me question how 2020 could possibly worsen, and then this happens. Whoever lost a bet and had to create this disaster should be confined, at least 180 miles from anyone who might consider repeating such an offense. The technical term for what this spirit did to me is "borked in the ding ding."

Consider my perspective. I acquired this bottle as a novelty to experience one of the lowest-rated whiskies. It's something I pass every time I visit the store, thinking, "I ought to sample this simply because it's so unusual." The aroma is wild. I detect notes of buttercream, caramel, a touch of oak, and the Tabasco finish. The finish itself isn't as sharp as one might anticipate, and on the palate, the whiskey primarily tastes like standard Dickel, which is enjoyable. The Tabasco emerges at the finish, lightly tingling the back of your throat. It's not entirely terrible. For $15, I don't regret this purchase. It could also be a versatile spirit. I can envision using it in cooking, or perhaps creating a novel, peculiar Bloody Mary. Sample this yourself, and if you dislike it, you can always give it as a gift. Cheers!