There’s some bottles I only drink after I’ve already been drinking. It’s only fitting that I review them in that same state of mind.

So I had a drink, had a drink, had a drink, wrote a review, woke up the next day, read the flaming pile of turds I’d written, wondered if the hangover was worth it, and then spent more time editing than I had writing.

About the Bottle:

Old No. 7 is cheap, uncontroversial, and widely available in 1.5 oz shooters. So it’s the perfect candidate for a throwaway review in case this all goes south.

So what’s the significance of number 7? Who the hell knows. That’s the answer. Sometimes that’s just how things work out – is there a god? You tell me. It’s Old No. 7, just accept it and move on.

What is Tennessee Whiskey?

It’s Tennessee’s groundbreaking, revolutionary method of making whiskey. Claps for Tennessee, everyone! You did good, Tennessee. Look at me—look me in the eyes. Tennessee, you’re not just the ninth worst state to live in. You’re more than Kentucky’s ugly friend. You’re a genius, Tennessee.

Here’s what’s genius about Tennessee Whiskey: they took the boring old traditional process for making whiskey, and they… did it in Tennessee.

Impressive, right? Pat yourself on the head, Tennessee! Rub your tummy and really just go to town on yourself. You deserve it!

As if that innovation weren’t enough, Tennessee took it a step further by requiring its whiskey go through something called the “Lincoln County Process.” What’s that, you ask? Another round of absolute genius! Lincoln County took the dilapidated, uninspired method of chill filtering whiskey, and they… did it in Lincoln County.

Damn, Tennessee! The hits keep comin’!

To be fair, that is a bit of an oversimplification. The Lincoln County Process filters the whiskey through maple charcoal, and it does so prior to barreling. Chill-filtration, on the other hand, uses different kinds of filters and does so prior to bottling. Even still though… seems like a whole lotta hullabaloo for nadabachoo.

Is Jack Daniels Considered Bourbon?

No, you dunce. Jack Daniels is Tennessee Whiskey. Sure, Ol’ Jack could’ve branded his juice as “bourbon” if he wanted to. It meets all the requirements, after all. But Jack was above all that.

It all started when, one day, Jack noticed Tennessee all alone in the corner, looking sad. All the other states were out laughing and riding and cornholing except Tennessee. You see, Tennessee has an absurd number of next-door neighbors, and each of those states has something special to hang their hats on:

• Kentucky has their fried chicken;
• Georgia has their peaches;
• Alabama has Florida as an easy escape;
• Mississippi is fun to spell;
• Missouri borders Kansas so it almost looks interesting in comparison;
• North Carolina has a best friend in South Carolina, and while both are forgettable individually, together they probably have something to offer;
• Virginia has some historical significance I think;
• Arkansas probably has something noteworthy too if I googled hard enough.

What does Tennessee have to offer? That’s a question Tennessee must get a lot. Its state motto is “Agriculture and Commerce.” That’s not its state industry, that’s its motto. It’s like they’re trying to pre-empt the question because they’ve gotten it so often.

Jack’s heart couldn’t take it. So he decided to give Tennessee something to be proud of: an exceptional marketing gimmick with international reach.

All this to say, Jack Daniels is Tennessee Whiskey, goddammit.

Nose

People always say this stuff smells like peanuts. I never really got that until now. I smell it guys. I smell the peanuts. I also smell sharpie. I smell nothing else.

Palate

People also say this stuff tastes like bananas. I never got that, and I still don’t. It’s pretty watery. The peanuts carry through a bit, but it’s subtle. Might just be remnants of the smell dripping from my nasal passage to the back of my tongue. That’s probably a thing.

Finish

Short and bitter.

Bottom Line:

4/10. Not my cup of bourbon. It does have a unique peanut note to it, but its also thin, bitter and a bit paint thinnery. Not something I’d choose to drink neat.