Redwood Empire Haystack Needle Rye

Nose: Upon lifting the glass to my nose, I find a rich barrel funk and earthy clay first and foremost. Hints of butterscotch follow, before crème de menthe, limoncello, and green chartreuse come together to create the leading profile. There's a quick evolution towards black pepper, allspice, and a kiss of clove before settling back into an earthy scene. Pine needles, wintergreen, funky oak, and lemon pepper come together in a cohesive, dashing, and daring assemblage of realistic outdoor scents. I find myself amongst the trees with this pour—somewhere I long to be on these drawn-out winter nights, barred in by frigid winds and quiet desolation. A good whiskey has the power to transport; this is one such glass. Long inhales produce a slight fruity note of fig jam and raspberry compote, backboned by wood spice and almond extract. 

After a sip, the nose turns towards more earthy again, and I almost begin to get a dusty vibe happening—think 1969 National Distillers Old Crow Chessman, just with less rich, viscous butterscotch and more rye character. After the better part of an hour in the glass, the aromas are quite settled into their comfortable places. A jar of nutmeg rests on a wooden mantle, sweet peach chunks sit just below a baked pie crust, and a hard lemon lollipop awaits a first lick. The empty glencairn smells of vintage clothes racks, cacao, cedar, and mug wart incense. 

Palate: My first sip is the perfect balance between zesty and creamy. Lemon frosting leads the charge in the front of the mouth, before creamy Earl Gray tea smoothes the tongue into a soft, velvety blanket. The mouthcoating is solidly oily, something I think is quite important for a satisfying sip. Another sip and swish is a touch more potent, with bergamot, expressed lemon peel, and tamarind coming together nicely. As sips continue, the lovely creamy tones continue as coconut cream, dulce de leche, and flan make my taste buds quite happy. The only qualm I can find is a slight medicinal cherry note and a touch of licorice; both of these notes are infinitesimal compared to the characteristics of the rest of the glass, so I won't knock it too much. Late in the glass, a soft mulled wine comes to pass, a fun flash of complexity on a nuanced, developing profile. My last sip is lemon tea and funky butterscotch for days with Christmas spice tingling across the tongue on an impeccably long finish. Yum!