What do you do when your wife's out for the evening and your small children are otherwise preoccupied/asleep/taking their nightly show of sleep-stalling insanity on the road to grandma's house? You break out a crap-ton of Tennessee whisky and pretend like your palate wasn't zapped to hell in your adolescence by guzzling 44-ounce sugar bombs courtesy of your local Sonic's after-school "Happy Hour," that's what.



But first, full disclosure, and a note about that fancy little half-bottle hanging out at the far end:

My brother and I are longtime fans of George Dickel. It was the first whisky either of us really enjoyed drinking whether straight or in fancy cocktails. (And by "fancy cocktails," I of course mean the incredibly sophisticated combination of George Dickel and Dr. Pepper. If you aren't acquainted with the liquid ambrosia that is Dr. Dickel, you should stop reading this and go take the plunge. I'm not going anywhere.) And to this day, as my tastes shift year to year and I'm exposed to different bourbons and whiskies, Dickel is the mainstay.

So entrenched are we in all that is Dickel that last summer, we sought out Dickel's Tennessee-only, limited edition 17-year-old whisky. If you are a more reasonable man than I and are unfamiliar with the cock-and-bull story that goes along with this money grab, let me fill you in. A year or so ago, the master distiller at Dickel apparently "stumbled upon" barrels that they had somehow overlooked for the past 17 years in one of their rickhouses. Their oldest release (Barrel Select) is a blend of 10 - 12 year old whisky, so they weren't sure what to do with the 17-year-old stuff. In fact, the distiller was worried that she couldn't even use it because she was afraid that it'd be overaged for the flavor profiles that they strive for. But, lo and behold, the whisky was great and more than worthy of public consumption. Long story short, they poured it in 375 ml bottles, offered it only to select liquor stores in Tennessee, and sold it at the ridiculous price point of $75 per 375 ml. Huzzah!

Sounds enticing, right? I mean, come on. What were we supposed to do? Not jump in the car at a moment's notice and drive to Tullahoma with my two-year old in tow on a Sunday afternoon? Balderdash! And were we deterred when the kind people at the distillery informed us upon our arrival that they had just run out? Did we point out the logical incongruity of a store temporarily "running out" of something that's sitting in barrels across the street? Nope. We soldiered on and eventually snagged a couple of bottles by hounding a few local liquor stores incessantly over the course of the following weeks. (In the Chattanooga area, where we live, the few liquor stores that received bottles of the stuff only got two or three each. It was like freaking Cabbage Patch kids at Christmas, man.)

For better or worse, this Dickel fandom also brings with it a predisposition against Jack Daniel's. Part of this is no doubt fueled by certain political developments in Tennessee over the past decade or so. (For more on that, read the back half of this.) And part of it is probably the sheer ubiquity of the stuff. It is quite literally everywhere, and the hipster-doofus part of me is likely siding with the little guy regardless of what the competition has to offer.

But every so often I admitted to myself that my disdain for Dickel's better-known rival was not well-informed by measure experience. I had enjoyed my few sips JD Single Barrel in the semi-distant past, and had once had Gentleman Jack at a party, I think. But really, I hadn't ever spent any time with the stuff.

Well, I decided that needed to change. So I called on my brother to combine his current stash with mine for a Tennessee Whisky sip-a-thon.

Here's the lineup:

Jack Daniel's Old No.7
George Dickel No. 8
Gentlemen Jack
George Dickel No. 12
Dickel Barrel Select
Jack Daniel's Single Barrel Select
George Dickel 17 Year Old

The JD products all share a mash bill of 80% corn, 12% barley, and 8% rye, while the Dickel products are all 84% corn, 8% barley, and 8% rye. The ages of these vary a bit, and most bear no age statement. As for JD products, it's hard to find much concrete information. I've read that JD No. 7 is usually around 4 years old, Gentleman Jack may be a year older, and JD Single Barrel may be up to 7 years old, but that's about all I could find. (If anyone knows different, please do tell.) Dickel, on the other hand, seems to be fairly open about its products ages, even if they're not listed on the bottles. GD No. 8 is 4 - 6 years old, GD No. 12 is 8 - 10 years old, and Barrel Select is 10 - 12 years old.

The prices of course vary, but here are what I've encountered recently per 750 ml (not including the Dickel 17):

JD No. 7 - $20 - $25
Gentleman Jack - $25 - $30
JD Single Barrel - $45 - $55
Dickel No. 8 - $17 - $20
Dickel No. 12 - $20 - $22
Dickel Barrel Select - $30 - $42

Now, on to business.

Here is how they all looked when poured side by side:



The color differences are apparent from the photo, so I won't comment on that other than to say that my brother and I both noted that JD No. 7 had a different tint than the rest. All the others had at least a hint of red in them. JD No. 7, though, was, well, sort of a dull, brown watery color that looked quite unappealing. Like a watered-down poo bisque.

As for the taste testing, I'll just give you my very general rundown, forgoing any pretense that I knew what the hell I was doing when I was taste-testing 7 whiskies in a row:

JD No. 7 - Odd. It wasn't bad, per se, nor was it as rough as I thought it might be. But it was decidedly bland. Just a generic "whisky" flavor, if that makes sense. Neither good nor bad. Just sort of there, with a moderate but not overpowering burn.

Dickel No. 8 - I'll just go ahead and say it this way: Having Dickel No. 8 immediately after JD No. 7 made both me and my brother laugh out loud. The contrast between the two was ridiculous. There was so much more flavor in every part of the pour that I don't even know where to begin. The sweetness, the corn, the oak . . . it was all there. In other words, this tasted like a real whisky. In fact, drinking these two in succession almost made me want to proclaim that No. 8 was the best whisky that I'd ever had. It was that stark of a difference, folks.

Gentleman Jack - Very smooth, but fairly bland like its less genteel brother. Really, that's about all I got. More pleasing to drink than No. 7, but the dropoff in flavor from Dickel No. 8 was noticeable.

Dickel No. 12 - Again, a sharp contrast going from a JD product to Dickel. A shade more stout that either Dickel No. 8 or Gentleman Jack (it's 90 proof while the previous two were 80 proof), but otherwise, fairly comparable to Dickel No. 8, with maybe a little more oak and a little less sweet corn.

Dickel Barrel Select - This one may have hit the sweet spot among the bunch. Neither JD product was even in its ballpark, so the only sensible comparisons were to Dickel Nos. 8 and 12. Smoother than either of those, and more complex than both. I'm not sure that I'd consistently pay the top end of the price range that I see for this whisky, but if you see it for $35 or under, grab a bottle. You won't be sorry.

JD Single Barrel - Finally, a solid entry from JD. A little less sweet than the Dickels, with a little more toastiness and spice. Not something I'd pay $50 for, but worthy of your time if you're around it and feel like giving something new a spin.

Dickel 17 year - Oak. Lots of oak. And more spice than I expected, especially compared to all the others. Also, a surprisingly short finish. Really good, and a little different than the rest of the Dickels. But not even close to worth the price point.

So in sum, this wasn't really much of a contest. The Dickel products outclassed JD by a wide margin, and the lone solid JD offering was $10 - $25 more expensive than comparably good Dickel whiskies. Just ask Merle. He knows.