E.H. Taylor Whiskey Review: Taste

May 27, 2023

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We taste E.H. Taylor's small batch, single barrel and straight rye so you don't have to. (But you probably should.)

The word "colonel" carries a slightly different connotation in Kentucky than it does in the rest of the nation. In most places, it refers to a military officer who's achieved the highest field-grade rank and is one step away from becoming a general. In the Bluegrass State, however, "Kentucky Colonel" is a title of honor bestowed on people of note, and has diddly squat to do with military service. (The most famous example, one Harland Sanders, spent less than six months in the Army as a teenager; that said, he did wind up in his fair share of gunfights later in life.)

Edmund Haynes Taylor, Jr. of Columbus, Kentucky was one of those fair Kentuckians who picked up the colonel name as an honorific — in his case, due to his contributions to the state's fabled whiskey industry. Throughout the 19th Century, Taylor started several distilleries — including, in 1870, the Old Fire Copper Distillery, which went on to be sold to one George T. Stagg (you may know his name) before ultimately becoming Buffalo Trace Distillery.

These days, the Buffalo Trace Distillery is part of a multi-billion-dollar conglomerate, as many a famous liquor brand is. But it hasn't left its founder in the past; instead, it now honors him with a series of brown liquors under the Colonel E.H. Taylor brand. The bottle design is the same one used by Colonel Taylor more than a century back, and many of the products in the line are made to bottled-in-bond strength — fitting, considering the Colonel was reportedly one of the people who lobbied Congress to pass the Bottled-in-Bond Act of 1897.

But the whiskey world is far bigger and more complex than it was back when ol' Taylor was churning out whiskey ... or even when Old Taylor Bourbon, the 20th Century whiskey that paid tribute to the man but now sells for wild prices on the secondhand market in spite of its screwtop bottle, was in production. So where does this latest whiskey to bear the Colonel's name land in the marketplace here in the third decade of the third millennium?

Well, I figured, there's only one way to find out.

The E.H. Taylor whiskeys have racked up a fair amount of buzz since they launched, due to their flavor, their heritage, and the limited supply that's outstripped by demand. After tasting the small batch, straight rye and single barrel expressions, I'm happy to report the hype isn't hot air.

Sure, there are more exotic browns out there, and plenty that pack incredible flavor at lesser prices. But that's the beauty of whiskey; part of the joy is finding as many as you can that you like. Thanks to their great taste and pleasant mouthfeel — plus one or two unexpected flavors floating in the mix — these whiskeys make up an excellent addition (or three) to your home bar.

The Small Batch expression is the first member of the Colonel E.H. Taylor line you'll see when you find the team on the brand's website; think of it as the captain of the team. And, as you'd expect of the captain, it excels at its purpose. Overall, I'd say it was my favorite whiskey of the trio that make up the core of the collection.

Sweetness is the word when it comes to the nose of this bourbon; even opening the bottle releases an ambrosian odor. Caramel comes to mind, in all its amber splendor — not the hard candies your grandfather would toss your way, but rather, the soft, gooey treat straight from the confectioner's stove. It's soft on the palette in every sense of the word; there's no bite, not even any bark, just more sweet, creamy notes with a hint of spice. (Think black licorice — but what you wish black licorice tastes like, not what it actually does.) On the finish, as it sends a tickle up the back of your throat to your nose, look for a bit of gentle spice to round things out.

Here's the thing about whiskey: the fewer barrels you draw from to fill your bottle, the more unique the character you might find within. Flavors or notes that might have been washed away by other, more common or powerful ones after being swirled together with the whiskey found in other barrels; thus, you have a greater chance of encountering something unusual.

On the nose, the single barrel expression of E.H. Taylor hits you with an unexpected organic odor; not offensive, mind you, but oddly reminiscent of, perhaps, the all-natural soap your hippie cousin always has at his house. On the palate, it hits you: it's oddly reminiscent of uni — raw sea urchin roe, albeit in this case paired with sweeter notes of fruit. It's smooth on the finish, with its tingle concentrated on the side of your tongue rather than the back of your throat. But again, if the idea of sea urchin roe taste in your bourbon doesn't ring your bell, that was just this particular barrel; the next barrel may offer its own flavors.

Unlike your father-in-law, there's nothing corny about this whiskey. This straight rye whiskey comes out of the bottle, like its compatriots, bottled in bond, packing that 100-proof punch that's good enough for guv'mint work. Unlike its bourbon siblings, though, there's no corn mash in the mix ... obviously, as that's what makes a rye a rye.

On the nose, its peppery character largely hides itself; instead, there's a hint of a sweetness of candied fruit. Take that first sip, and the palette brings that pepper — not harsh like a pepper spray, but almost delicate, fresh from the garden, but with a very subtle note of marzipan that splashes through for just a second. On the finish, as the whiskey coats your tongue and before it leaves a dry finish, it almost splits into two characteristics: one sweet up high, one spicy down low. Overall, it's a very mild, gentle rye — one even folks who aren't usually rye sippers (such as myself) will enjoy.