Rabbit Hole Dareringer PX Cask

Kentucky Straight Bourbon PX finish | 46.5% ABV

Score: 7/10

Very Good Indeed.

TL;DR
A nice, but pricey, blurring of the lines between bourbon and malt

 

Keeping the whisky shelves ‘untainted’

As you may know by now, instead of floor-to-ceiling shelving units buckling under the weight of single and blended malt bottles – as may be found in my fellow whisky enthusiasts’ homes – I have a whisky cabinet. Actually, a singular whisky shelf within my cabinet.

It is, and has always been, a single and blended malt whisky shelf. It holds, at most, some thirty-five bottles. This works for me, and I appreciate this self-regulating and self-restraining means of enjoying my whisky journey. In the whisky desert of North Carolina, the bottles there are more precious now more than ever due to the limited availability of replenishing stock. Precious and appreciated, it remains. 

However, a new place to collect bottles has been found. Different bottles. My bourbon and rye journey has begun, and as I started down that trek, I was unsure what to do with bottles of bourbon and rye. Initially, and reluctantly, I slid several bourbon bottles along the right side of the shelf in my cabinet - due to a dash of OCD in my blood, my whisky cabinet runs, left-to-right, by degrees of peat. So it just didn’t look right.

The whisky shelf has always been an homage to single malts and blended malts. No offence to the bourbon and ryes of the world, but in my head they just didn’t mix; it just looked awkward. Placing bourbons and ryes alongside the malts seemed, well, wrong. Square pegs in round holes. 

So, with the decision to quarantine bourbons and ryes from my cabinet, I have commandeered a landing spot for my bourbons and ryes. Indeed, in addition to my cabinet, I have a small bourbon cupboard that holds an additional twelve bottles. While the internal governor in my head secretly enjoyed the cap of thirty five whisky bottles, the purist in me appreciates that I have two separate whisky/whiskey spheres.

That I even have a bourbon and rye cupboard is clear proof that I have become immersed in the South. Am I excited about my new bourbon and rye journey?  Absolutely. In my newly chartered course through the sea of bourbons and ryes, I am interested in exploring distilleries, labels, expressions, and the varying distilling and processes that create various bourbons.

I have started some deep digging and reading, and despite single malts and bourbons being cousins, the differences are also quite remarkable. Education and sampling had been satisfying but, at the same time, a bit vexing. After several months of educating myself and sampling here and there, it became clear that my enjoyment and critique of bourbons and ryes had been subconsciously and continually undermined by my own thoughts and preconceptions.

As I would sample and critique bourbons in my glass, I would instinctively wander back to thoughts of, and comparisons with, single malts. I suppose I did so as - after all - I am a single malt guy. Fair enough.

Secondly, I compared the bourbons with malts because, let’s point out the obvious, both are whiskies – regardless of whether you spell the word with an ‘e’ or not. And so, my enjoyment of bourbons was continually tripped up. I kept thinking the two genres would always be comparing apples to apples – I understood they wouldn’t be exactly the same, but even with a comparison of a Macintosh apple to a Fuji apple, while you instantly taste the difference you still also know they are both apples. Why was I having such a hard time comparing bourbons with single malts?

As I was drinking a particular bourbon recently – subject of another review – an epiphany (perhaps so basic that I ought not admit it out loud) hit me; utterly fundamentally basic. Comparing the two whisky/ey variants – even though they sprout from the same family tree – was difficult because they are, in fact, very different animals.

After this revelation, I told myself it is completely wrought with problems to compare the two genres. So simple. Why did one have to be compared with the other?  It’s no different than comparing my son Finn and my daughter Leana. Leana being driven, determined, and an eye on the horizon while Finn (God bless him) is unmotivated, lackadaisical, and lives in the moment. One striving to make her mark and the other willing to do the absolute minimum to get by. Same gene pool, same parents bringing them up, but they are 180 degrees shifted. Different animals. So, too, single malts and bourbons. Both whiskies (whiskeys!), but vastly different – I told myself. Pee Wee Herman and Clint Eastwood. John Denver and Jello Biafra. You get the gist…and I thought I did, too.

I patted myself on the back as I made the pact with myself not to compare malts with bourbons. And, yet, as I did so, I immediately started to second guess the logic of such a simple, black-and-white rule.

First, I reflected on my recent trip to Key West. There, I purchased a bottle of The Balvenie DoubleWood 12 year old as I knew it would be enjoyed by my bourbon-loving buddy. That expression has always been known as a gateway or bridge to single malts for bourbon drinkers. Thus, the first chink in the armor was made in my thought process – is there, indeed, an overlap?  Maybe there are expressions that can be compared over genre lines?  I tried to push the thought aside as my original epiphany seemed so naturally simple and clear. Don’t mess up the simplicity of that epiphany, Ogilvie. Remember Leana and Finn, I told myself.

And then, I was gifted the bottle I’m reviewing here. A client of mine surprised me with a very generous gift bag, and this bottle was included. I pulled the bottle out and looked at it. While I had never had the acquaintance of this bottle previously, I recognized the name from some of the bourbon research I’d been doing. I recalled that this was a relatively new distillery, and their expressions had received positive reviews. That said, as I read the label, I was stumped. “Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey” is immediately followed by “Finished in PX Sherry Casks”.

What in the wide, wide, world of sports is going on here?  In my nascent bourbon journey, I had not ever sampled a sherry finished bourbon. I performed some more research and found a number of bourbon and rye expressions with a sherry cask finish or maturation. Clearly, it’s been going on for a while. That knowledge was interesting, but this was new to me on this newly chartered bourbon journey. And, with the surprise came the realisation that before me was another crossover from the bourbon to the single malt sphere.

I had a feeling that the naturally simple and clear distinction I had derived – the one for which I patted myself on the back – was being shot to pieces…

 

 

Review

Rabbit Hole Dareringer, Kentucky Straight Bourbon, PX cask finish, 65% corn, 25% wheat, 10% malted barley, non-chill filtered, 46.5% ABV
~USD$80 (£64) still available

 

Score: 7/10

Very Good Indeed.

TL;DR
A nice, but pricey, blurring of the lines between bourbon and malt

 

Nose

A very inviting nose of stewed prunes, raisins, and oak. Dried fruits. Apricots and blackberry jam. A slight waft of honey wheat bread in the oven. Some more nosing and I can discern honey and nuts (Honey Nut Cheerios?  A slice of warm baklava?) along with the stewed fruits.

 

Palate

Red stone fruits. Plums. Vanilla cream and baking spices. Dates. Some almonds and cashews are in the background while some brown sugar and grape Bubble Yum gum come into play. This is sweet but not cloying. The healthy wheat component has rounded any edges here and has married with the PX cask finish in a lovely way. This dram is full bodied and layered. This has surprisingly good mouthfeel. The finish has a menthol-like hint accompanying baking spices and dried fruits with some honeydew melon.

 

The Dregs

This is a lovely bottle. I have to admit, I have been pleasantly surprised by this one. This mashbill and its PX sherry cask finish works extraordinarily well together. This bourbon does not have a strong corn taste, as many bourbons do. In fact, it is hard to find a corn note here. This is bourbon thinking out of the box.

The relatively new-ish Rabbit Hole Distillery was founded by Kaveh Zamanian. He was originally educated and trained to be a clinical psychologist and psychoanalyst. An aficionado of whisky, the story took a turn toward bourbon, distillation, and Kentucky with the marriage to his wife. You see, his wife is a native of Louisville, Kentucky, and led him down the bourbon rabbit hole. The couple moved to Kentucky and Kaveh was determined to create a new distillery with a completely renewed look at, and recipes for, whiskies. As one outlet says:

Rabbit Hole works with one-of-a-kind recipes using mash bills (a mix of grains used to create whiskey) that have garnered a groundswell in the industry, inspiring bourbon drinkers to learn more about America’s native spirit. “Bourbon is meant to be enjoyed, with no exclusivity as to how. Let it serve as a reminder to be unapologetically yourself,” Zamanian says. “Meant to be served and sipped on however you’d like without outside opinion. Don’t let anyone tell you how to have your bourbon.”

Kaveh was drawn to bourbon by the creative possibilities within its defined parameters. His mantra, “Bourbon is 51 percent corn and 49 percent possibility,” emphasizes the opportunity for innovation in the remaining 49 percent of the mash bill, blending strict bourbon standards with imaginative flavor exploration.

The mashbill here is not your usual, nor is the distillate simply aged in charred new oak. Having 25% wheat and a non-insignificant 10% malted barley makes this distillate, in my humble opinion, richer and provides a different sweetness than the typical corn-bourbon-sweetness. The sweetness is rounder and, as said above, not cloying. It plays very well with the PX sherry casks that were used here.

The brand “Rabbit Hole” was founded only a dozen years ago. And in that time, it has grown while still adhering to focuses of sustainability and being as much grain-to-glass as can be accomplished. Now that it is starting to hit its stride, this distillery is one to keep an eye out for.

And, yes, back to the original conundrum of overlap and overplay of single malts and bourbons…we have this whiskey’s founder who started as a single malt aficionado and became enamoured with bourbons thanks to the influence of his better half. His visions are – perhaps being over simplistic – bourbons envisioned through the lenses and flavour memories of a single malt fan.

‘Twas overly simplistic to think that malts are on one side and clearly separated from bourbons and ryes. Even being a newbie to the bourbon realm, I should have known better.

We have seen malts using virgin oak barrels (as is mandated for any bourbon), and we have bourbons and ryes with sherry cask finishes, port cask finishes, rum barrel finishes, etc. I have even read about at least one single malt that has, as part of its process, utilised charcoal filtering (a la the “Lincoln County process”) made famous by Jack Daniels. Once you start looking and tasting, the crossovers pop up all around. Yes, there are distinctions – and stark ones at that – but the lines are blurring a bit here and there.

And, upon reflection, that’s wonderful.

I will continue to treat bourbons and ryes as their own entities as I will continue to do so for single malts. However, there are times in which the family genetics will become patently familiar, and instead of being confused by it, that overlap should be relished. Heck, even in family photos it is clear to see the family relation between Leana and Finn.

The flavour chase ensues, and that has been, and will continue to be, my focus. All of this malt v. bourbon brings me back to remembering what was important when I first went down the whisky rabbit hole – It’s about flavour…not the type of whisky. Lesson re-learned.

If you are a lover of traditional bourbon, give this a try. It may not be your lane as this strikes a different balance of flavours than, say, Buffalo Trace or Russell’s Reserve. Nonetheless, give it a try, as this wheated distillate is rounded, full, and carries a terrific palate.

Likewise, if you are a single malt drinker and appreciate sherry-cask finished malts, don’t scoff at this because it is a bourbon. I dare say this may very well be something you will buy and then ensure you go out and buy another when it is rinsed. It’s not a Royal Brackla 12 or a Tamdhu 12, but it might surprise you to taste that the family genetics and family processes do spread a bit.

For me, this bottle marries two whisky genres quite well. I have enjoyed this bottle, and it is only getting better (now half way down the bottle). I am interested to try the other whiskies of their lineup (a four-grain bourbon, a high-rye bourbon, a sour mash rye, and their Founders Collection of various cask strength expressions). The flavour trail is re-lit, and I am all the better for getting back on the trail to shift focus from classification to a focus on that flavour

In all candour, the score here gave me some fits. There has been some consternation among the Dramface team regarding price and score. Some think that score must necessarily reflect the price, and others think that the scoring should be on the liquid, alone. I think I fall more in the latter group, but I always try to be clear in my reviews if there is a concern about price. And, yes, I believe I do have a concern about price here.

This bottle retails for around $80.00 USD. That, to me - albeit early on my bourbon journey - seems pricey. For the same money, I bought my BenRiach Peated Cask Strength, which is my favourite bottle purchased in 2024 and blows the doors off any other bottle of any kind of whisky/ey that I own. Also by comparison, my Heaven Hill Bottled in Bond which has opened up amazingly well set me back only $49.00. So, I think the price is a bit steep, but if you can find this closer to $70, it is well worth it.

So, the score. Our Dramface scoring guide for a 6/10 says that the bottle is “[p]riced fairly, this is encouraged as a solid purchase in these heady times.”  While not priced fairly, perhaps, I looked at the 7/10 which reads, in part: “This has given us real pleasure and is considered very worthy of your time.”  And, that is where I opt to land. Maybe this is me being in a good mood, as I am just enjoying what’s in my glass that has given me real pleasure and is quite worthy of my time. Maybe this is a very high 6/10. After I went back and forth, I landed on 7 for the liquid itself. Sorry, Broddy.

Overall, well done, Rabbit Hole.

(And, kudos to those of you who knew who Jello Biafra is without having to do a Google search…)

 

Score: 7/10

 

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:

Whiskybase

The Whiskey Vault

Erik Wait Whisky Studies

WhiskyJason

Got a link to a reliable review? Tell us.

Ogilvie Shaw

As his kids grow and flee the nest, ex-lawyer Ogilvie needs something else to distract his curious mind. As he ponders the possibilities that lie among more recreational years ahead, he’s excited by how much whisky time he may be able to squeeze in. If we can raise his attention from his seriously immersive whisky studies, we may just get him sharing some of his New England wisdom on Dramface. Let’s have it Ogilvie; what are you learning? We’re all ears.

Previous
Previous

American Single Malt History - Golden Moon Vet’s Cask

Next
Next

Cadenhead’s Cooley 1992 “11yo”