Penelope Wheated Bourbon
Straight Bourbon Whiskey | 47.5% ABV
Score: 4/10
Some promise.
TL;DR
Sweet and simple, it’s … fine
Lost in Translation
I believe I have done a good job of immersing myself in my not-so-new North Carolina surroundings. The Southern drawl has started to infiltrate my pronunciation, especially when out in public. I have been invited to be a member of the local law enforcement gun range. And, I have perfected making home-made buttermilk biscuits and sausage gravy. Lord, have mercy.
Despite my immersion, there is one translation hurdle that remains, and it vexes me. And that, my Dramface peeps, focuses on bourbon.
I believe Winston Churchill said (perhaps quoting Bernard Shaw) that the British and Americans are separated by a common language. The same can be said of the Scottish and American forms of whisk(e)y. I will get back to that shortly.
As mentioned, I’ve been a good Southerner and I have been trying to appreciate bourbon. I have sampled a healthy number of expressions – though, admittedly, my samplings pale in comparison to the up-until-now-ever-expanding list of bourbon labels and countless more expressions. The bourbon journey is underway and I have gone a meaningful way down the path. Despite finding a few bourbons that have interested me – and I have made it a point to review those expressions here in these pages – my unwavering preference for malt versus bourbon remains.
But… as Mama didn’t raise no quitter, I continue down my bourbon path.
The bottle in today’s review has been in my sights for approximately a year now. The Penelope label has garnered acclaim for good releases and, on top of that, I am usually a fan of “wheated” bourbons. That, coupled with the fact that I remembered the very positive language from bourbon YouTube reviews, kept this on my radar.
When I picked this bottle off the shelf I didn’t recall a specific review, but, again, I remembered a few that spoke highly of this expression. While in the store until the time I finished my nosing and tasting investigation, I didn’t go back to replay any reviews as it’s my habit to do my online search only after I conclude my Dramface rounds with the bottle.
So, how did the remembered hype compare to what I experienced in the glass?
Review
Penelope Wheated, Straight Bourbon Whiskey, 4-6 years old, mashbill: 74% corn, 16% wheat, 7% rye, and 3% malted barley, 47.5% ABV
US$34 paid (£25) & wide availability
Score: 4/10
Some promise.
TL;DR
Sweet and simple, it’s … fine
Nose
Soft. “Soft” in the thought of being not complex. Sweet corn a la canned cream corn. Sweet aroma of a pie shop – no discernible distinct flavors of different pies, just a sweet aroma. Some hint of cherry. A wisp of vanilla pudding. Despite several nosing efforts at different times, there is not much more to say. Soft toffee-like sweetness. Nice…? But not interesting.
Palate
Simple. Caramel. A bit of vanilla fudge and toffee. But otherwise . . . simple. This reminds me of a low- or no-rye bourbon despite it having 7% rye in the mashbill. Corn sweetness. Pleasant, no doubt, but also no character. No layers to either jump out at you (e.g., Campbeltown funk). Nor are there layers to sit and peel apart. Mid-palate a cinnamon spice comes up and lingers, but other than that, this is a narrow lane of “easy and simple” bordering on boring. It is pleasant. Ummm . . . did I mention pleasant?
The Dregs
It’s a beautiful day and you want to take a drive through the countryside, soaking in blue skies and warm sunshine. Your friend comes to pick you up for the drive, but he opted to leave his convertible in the garage. He even left his sportscar in the garage. Instead, he chose the family car, a la a 2011 Nissan Versa (or a 2010 Opel Meriva for our UK folk). Sure, you still get out on the road and drive, but the vehicle doesn’t exhilarate or otherwise add to the sensory experience. It is… fine.
Hyperbole, perhaps, but I trust you all get the gist. This bourbon, while boring, is . . . fine. Simple. Sweet. Fine.
This gets me to two questions – one that led to the other. First, I was confused. Why, exactly, was this bottle on my radar? I was convinced I had previously heard good things about this bottle. When I go shopping for whiskey, I tend to spend my few shekels on bottles that have (or have had) some buzz or some excitement. I went back and looked at YouTube reviews. It appears my memory was not faulty. There was buzz and really positive language used. Do I need a translator to understand bourbon-ese?
Apparently so.
Watching “Artfully Bourbon”, they reviewed the bottle and raved. Some of the quotes:
“Holy moley!! That is tasty!”
“It’s unique and a little funky.”
“I would be in trouble with this.”
Watching “The Bourbon Junkies” – admittedly, one of my favorites – they also raved:
“Oh my gosh, that’s a crusher, dude.”
“I mean, that’s a pretty nice mow-your-lawn whiskey. You know? Chill out, have a couple of drinks, not have to think about the whiskey”
“For forty dollars? That’s a solid ‘A’”.
This begets my second question. If I had listened to these YouTube reviews before buying the bottle, I would be pissed off. I translate the phrases “I would be in trouble with this”, “it’s unique and a little funky”, and “that’s a crusher, dude” to mean I would be having a really good and interesting whiskey in my glass. You know, something with character, interesting flavors, and layers to dissect. Apparently, I was wrong. Instead of those phrases translating to a really good and interesting whiskey, those words and phrases, clearly but unfortunately, mean: bordering on boring, simple, sweet, and pleasant. Nothing else.
I suppose I needed to delve deeper into the bourbon review language. In retrospect, the “tell” as to the real, underlying experience of this bourbon is found in the quote: “...I mean, that’s a pretty nice mow-your-lawn whisky.”
If you’re operating machinery with spinning blades and deciding which whiskey to drink as you do it – as a start, I would think that you wouldn’t be drinking whiskey, but that’s me – that’s red flag number one.
In the bourbon world, however, that appears to be a thing. If so, we all can agree that the operator of those spinning blades would need to be attentive to the task at hand. And here we reveal the real translation for this whiskey. If this is a “crusher” that will be good to be paired during a tasting experience while you should be paying attention to something else, that means choosing a whiskey that is lacking in character or flavor as it will not be a risk to distract. In other words, choose a whiskey akin to the pleasing shade of taupe that was selected for your family room walls – you walk in, and it is calm and soothing, but you don’t give a second thought about the paint color.
As I have said before in other reviews, in my humble opinion, the best whiskies – the ones that make me stop and lose track of time – are the ones that make me pay attention, have character, hold my interest, have a grip, and have layers of flavors to navigate.
This Penelope wheated bourbon is not that. It is the taupe paint. It is the Opel Meriva. It is simple. Uncomplicated. Pleasant.
For sure, for the price I paid for this bottle, there is little to complain about. It is budget-friendly. While I am glad I didn’t pay $75.00, I don’t purchase whiskey to receive an experience only of simple, uncomplicated, and pleasant. (And, to add fuel to the reasons I don’t factor price into the score assessed, the comment “For forty dollars? That’s a solid ‘A’” needs translation, too. So, it would appear that if this bottle cost $75 it would be a ‘C’? And, if it cost $100 it would presumably be an ‘F’? The whiskey is the same – it should not matter what it costs. Grade on the taste experience only! I will now get off my soap box – sorry not sorry to Broddy…)
I suppose if, when you climb on top of your John Deere tractor to mow the back forty, you are looking for a mow-your-lawn bourbon, this is your bottle. (And, please, again, don’t drink and operate machinery…) As for me, when I reach for a whisky or a whiskey, I am looking for more.
In all honesty, I was going to score this a 5/10. After several nosing and tasting efforts, I shifted it downward as each time I reached for the glass it reminded me of the wall paint. Nice, but nothing special. For a four-grain mashbill, there should be something interesting, but it just feels like something is missing. It is wholly pleasant, but, again; taupe. This left me, each time I tried it, longing for something with character.
As someone who tries to think of the positives, there are some good things I have taken out of this tasting. One positive is that it has taught me that we malt lovers are, in fact, separated from our bourbon brethren by a coming language. Next, this bottle has helped me translate some bourbon review language. I still love The Bourbon Junkies, et al., but the need for translation is apparently real. Going forward, when I hear Sean talk about mow-your-lawn whiskey, I’ll now know what that means…
Score: 4/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. OS
-
Dramface is free.
Its fierce independence and community-focused content is funded by that same community. We don’t do ads, sponsorships or paid-for content. If you like what we do you can support us by becoming a Dramface member for the price of a magazine.
However, if you’ve found a particular article valuable, you also have the option to make a direct donation to the writer, here: buy me a dram - you’d make their day. Thank you.
For more on Dramface and our funding read our about page here.
Other opinions on this:
Got a link to a reliable review? Tell us.
