By Richard Thomas
Rating: B+
(Credit: Richard Thomas)
When Danville’s Wilderness Trail Distillery launched their new Family Reserve of single barrel, cask strength, six year old whiskeys, they went with all three of their major mash bills. I was not sent a sample of the rye whiskey in this series, but I did get a crack at their two bourbons: the one with the 24% rye mash and their wheated (also 24%) bourbon. The “high rye” bourbon was written up last month, so now I return to take on the wheated mash bill Family Reserve, which may prove to be the most popular. Ever since Pappy Fever became a thing, many bourbon fans across the spectrum of interest have become fixated on “wheaters,” and those with a particular interest in Wilderness Trail have proven no exception (judging from the buzz online, at any rate).
These three whiskeys all share a common production process. As Wilderness Trail’s founders were distilling consultants, a chemist and an engineer, they brought the expertise to starting their distillery 13 years ago to commit firmly to the sweet mash process. That is to say, they start each batch of mash from scratch, use no setback, and are confident they can avoid bacterial contamination or serious problems with consistency. The whiskey is entered into the barrel at the middling proof of 110, and that barrel has a #4 “alligator” char, the heaviest char in common usage for the most caramelization of the wood.
The way I think of bourbon aging, anything less than four years is young; four to six years is properly aged; six to ten years is mature; and ten to fifteen years is middle aged. So at six years and presumably some months, Family Reserve releases straddle that proper and mature line. This example is at a cask strength of 116.1 proof.
The Bourbon
After a splash of water went into my Glencairn, the bourbon took on a dulled, middling amber look. The nose was akin to a crafty caramel candy: caramel (of course), a little butterscotch, and a musty quality imparted by a dusting of baking spices.
The flavor leads with that caramel and baking spice, backed by a light fruity note that I could never quite decide if it was peach or nectarine. Add a sliver of charred oak and you’ve just about got it. The finish is the strongest part of the sipping experience here, opening silky and sweet, jinking towards a light dash of spice and oak, before that fades out and returns to a lingering sweet note. So the conclusion is a surprisingly complex one.
The Price
This bottle should set you back $70.
