Sometimes a tasting goes exactly the way you planned.

You line up the bottles. You pour the samples. You compare proof to proof, style to style, bottle to bottle. You take your notes, argue over the details, declare a winner and move on with your life.

And sometimes, a tasting walks into the room, kicks over the folding table and says, “That was cute. Now let’s get serious.”

That was pretty much what happened in Tennessee.

I was visiting my best friend Scott, and he had invited a couple of friends over. One of them, also named Scott, goes by “Deuce,” which makes things easier when you have two Scotts in the same room and at least one person holding a Glencairn glass. The fourth friend did not drink, so the actual tasting crew was Scott, Deuce and me.

The original plan was simple enough. We were going to taste three 107-proof whiskeys: Weller Antique 107, Yellowstone Small Batch 107 and Seelbach Wheated, which also comes in at 107 proof. That alone was a pretty interesting lineup. Three bottles. Same proof. Different personalities.

I will probably write up those findings separately, because there was plenty there worth talking about. But that tasting ended up becoming the opening act.

The real story started when Scott brought out another bottle.

It was a now-out-of-stock single barrel from Old Glory Distilling in Clarksville, Tennessee. This was supposed to be the cherry on top of the day, a nice bonus pour after the main event.

Instead, for a while, it became the main event.

From the first pass on the nose, it was obvious this bottle was operating on a different level. It exploded with buttery toffee notes, then opened into cherries, brown sugar and a kind of rich dessert warmth that made everyone stop and pay attention. It had that quality great whiskey sometimes has where the aroma alone makes you want to slow down and not rush the experience.

The palate followed through beautifully. There was creaminess. There was viscosity. The flavors did not just show up and leave. They settled in, stretched out and stayed awhile. Buttery toffee, cherry, brown sugar and oak all seemed to roll together in a way that felt balanced instead of crowded.

It was, without question, the best thing we had tasted all day.

Deuce had to leave after the Old Glory pour, which means he missed what came next. But before he left, he was right there with us on the Old Glory. All three of us agreed it was not just better than the 107-proof lineup. It was miles beyond it.

At that point, the night already felt like a win.

Then Stagg showed up.

Earlier that day, I had found a bottle of Stagg Batch 25D at a liquor store near Scott’s house. Even better, it was $40 less than I had seen it anywhere else. That does not exactly make Stagg a budget bottle, but in today’s bourbon market, finding one at a price that does not make you question your life choices feels like a small miracle.

After doing a little research, I knew it was probably a bottle worth grabbing. Scott suggested we test the reviews and open it.

That alone would have been enough. But then he brought out George T. Stagg 2024.

For bourbon people, George T. Stagg is one of those bottles. One of the unicorns. One of the Holy Grail bottles people talk about, chase, trade for and sometimes pay ridiculous secondary-market prices to acquire. These bottles routinely sell for upward of $800 on the secondary market, which is why most of us are more likely to see one in a photograph than in an actual glass.

But there it was.

So now the night had changed again. What began as a 107-proof comparison had become a side-by-side tasting of Stagg Batch 25D against its big brother, George T. Stagg.

There are people who have said Batch 25D holds its own against George T. Stagg. Scott and I decided to find out.

First, the color.

George T. Stagg had the edge here. It was a little darker, leaning closer to mahogany, while the Stagg Batch 25D stayed more in the deep copper range. Both looked beautiful in the glass, but the GTS had that extra bit of depth that made it look slightly older, richer and more serious.

Then came the nose.

This is where things started to get interesting, because the two were much closer than I expected. Both had a very similar flavor profile. Butterscotch. Cherries. Tree fruit. Spice. Oak. The George T. Stagg may have been a touch more potent, which would make sense because it came in at 136 proof, while the Stagg Batch 25D was a bit behind at around 129 proof.

Still, this was not a case where the junior bottle smelled like a pale imitation. It was right there in the same family, speaking the same language, making the same basic argument.

Then we tasted them. That is where the surprise really set in.

Once again, the flavor profiles were extremely similar. Chocolate, cherries, tree fruit, cinnamon and toasted oak came rolling through in layers and waves. Both had depth. Both had intensity. Both had that big Buffalo Trace barrel-proof richness people chase in these bottles.

But neat, the Stagg Batch 25D was better.

That felt almost wrong to say, considering what was sitting beside it. George T. Stagg is George T. Stagg. It is supposed to win by reputation alone. It is supposed to walk into the room wearing a crown while everything else bows politely.

But tasting them side by side, the GTS came across slightly off-putting because of the higher proof. It was powerful, yes. It was rich, yes. But there was a little more heat standing between me and the flavors.

The Stagg Batch 25D, on the other hand, was shockingly easy to drink. It had the richness, the chocolate, the cherry, the spice and the oak, but it carried all of that with a level of balance that made it dangerously sippable for something pushing 130 proof.

Scott and I both agreed. Neat, the Stagg Batch 25D won.

But that was not the end of the story.

We also agreed that George T. Stagg probably had more waiting under the hood. At 136 proof, it seemed like the kind of bourbon that might not be showing its best self straight out of the bottle and straight into the glass. A cube or a few drops of water might calm the heat and unlock the rest of the experience.

So we added a couple of drops of water to a small pour. That changed everything.

The harshness backed off. The whiskey opened up. The flavors became fuller, rounder and easier to enjoy. The chocolate deepened. The fruit became more expressive. The spice settled into the pour instead of fighting for attention. Suddenly, George T. Stagg became what George T. Stagg is supposed to be.

It was amazing.

At that point, I do not know that the question had a simple answer anymore. Neat, I would take the Stagg Batch 25D. With a few drops of water, George T. Stagg reminded us why people chase it.

As for mouthfeel and finish, both bottles were winners. Oily, creamy, viscous and long-lasting. The flavors from the palate rolled right into the finish and stayed there for a couple of minutes. Chocolate, cherries, cinnamon, toasted oak and dark fruit lingered beautifully.

Those are the kinds of finishes that make conversation stop for a moment.

The funny thing is that none of this was the plan.

The plan was Weller Antique 107, Yellowstone Small Batch 107 and Seelbach Wheated. That would have been a perfectly good tasting. A useful tasting. A tasting with a clear theme and probably a clear winner.

Then Old Glory walked in and became the best thing we had tasted all day.

Then Stagg Batch 25D walked in and challenged George T. Stagg.

Then George T. Stagg took a couple drops of water and reminded everyone why unicorn bottles become unicorn bottles in the first place.

By the end of the night, the original tasting had become the pregame. Old Glory had become the surprise second feature. And the two Staggs had become the main event.

Sometimes that is how the best bourbon nights happen. You start with a plan. Then someone opens the right bottle.

And suddenly, the tasting writes itself.

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Copyright © 2026 Doug DeBolt.