The Bourbon Cheapskate, Vol. 59: Southern Comfort 100 Review—Too Sweet for Comfort?

Price: $18.99
Proof: 100 (50% ABV)
Score: 72.53

I hadn’t tasted Southern Comfort in more than 30 years. Maybe closer to 40.

Back in my younger days, Southern Comfort was one of those bottles that seemed to find its way into just about every gathering. My recollection was that it was sweet. Really sweet. Too sweet, even for a kid who hadn’t yet developed much of a taste for whiskey. It worked reasonably well mixed with soda, but drinking it straight wasn’t something I particularly enjoyed.

And so I went decades without giving Southern Comfort another thought. That changed this week when I wandered into Winn-Dixie Liquors looking for bargains.

Actually, I had my eye on something considerably more interesting. There was a bottle of Basil Hayden 10-Year sitting on the shelf with a sale tag advertising $39.99. Now that’s a bargain. I’ve never owned a bottle of Basil Hayden, and while I’ve heard plenty of bourbon enthusiasts dismiss the brand as overrated, I figured a 10-year expression at that price deserved a chance.

Unfortunately, the register had other ideas. It rang up at $90.

The clerk went to investigate and discovered that the sale tag belonged to something else entirely. There wasn’t even a correct tag for the Basil Hayden, so he removed the incorrect tags from the shelf.

And I went home without my first bottle of Basil Hayden.

I wasn’t heartbroken. My one previous taste of the standard Basil Hayden hadn’t exactly sent me racing to the liquor store for more. Still, I was looking forward to seeing what a decade in the barrel might do for it, especially at 40 bucks.

Instead, something else caught my eye. Southern Comfort 100.

At $18.99, it certainly qualified for Bourbon Cheapskate. And unlike the Southern Comfort of my youth, the modern version actually has whiskey in its backbone. Sazerac, which purchased the brand in 2016, returned Southern Comfort to a whiskey-based formulation after years of using neutral grain spirits.

I looked up a few reviews, and some bourbon enthusiasts seemed cautiously enthusiastic about the 100-proofer. Nobody was calling it the next great whiskey, but the general impression was that it wasn’t half bad.

For less than 20 bucks, I decided to revisit an old acquaintance. Maybe we had both matured over the years.

The Pour

Even with caramel coloring added, Southern Comfort 100 isn’t especially dark. I’d call it mid-amber at best, certainly lighter than I expected from something carrying 100 proof.

But the nose? Oh, my.

I’ve been struggling with my sense of smell recently, particularly when it comes to picking up some of the subtler aromas in whiskey. That wasn’t a problem here. Southern Comfort practically assaulted my nose with sugar and fruit. It was one of the most distinct aromas I’d encountered in quite some time.

Unfortunately, distinct doesn’t necessarily mean inviting. There was sweetness everywhere. Not the rich vanilla and caramel sweetness I enjoy in a good bourbon, but something much closer to fruit syrup. And there wasn’t much else going on to provide contrast.

I was beginning to remember why Southern Comfort and I had parted ways all those years ago.

The Sip

Sugar in the face. Followed by more sugar in the face.

Southern Comfort has long been associated with fruity flavors, particularly peach, and I suppose there’s something appropriately Southern about that. But this isn’t the pleasant sweetness of a ripe peach on a summer afternoon.

This is peaches stewed in cane syrup. And then somebody added more syrup.

It’s not terrible. I want to be clear about that. There’s nothing particularly offensive about the flavor itself. But it’s so overwhelmingly sweet that whatever whiskey character might be lurking underneath never really gets a chance to make an appearance.

I applaud Sazerac for returning whiskey to the Southern Comfort recipe. Replacing the neutral grain spirits was a step in the right direction. Unfortunately, I’m not convinced the finished product is substantially better for it, at least when it comes to drinking it neat.

The flavors are almost entirely sweet and fruity, with very little contrast to keep things interesting. I kept hoping for some oak, spice or even a little bitterness to balance everything out.

No such luck.

The mouthfeel is actually pretty solid. There’s some weight to it, and it coats the tongue reasonably well. But I suspect much of that comes from the sweetened formulation rather than the whiskey itself.

And the finish doesn’t do much to redeem the experience. There’s a lingering sweetness, a touch of fruit and not much else. For a 100-proof spirit, it’s remarkably short on the sort of finish I generally expect.

The Verdict

When I finished my glass, one thought came immediately to mind:

This would make a pretty good cough syrup the next time I have the flu.

I’m reasonably certain that’s not the tasting note Sazerac’s marketing department was hoping for.

The disappointing thing is that I can see what Southern Comfort is trying to accomplish. It’s an approachable, fruit-forward spirit intended to appeal to people who don’t necessarily enjoy the stronger whiskey flavors that bourbon enthusiasts appreciate. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.

But there’s a difference between making something sweet and making something balanced. Southern Comfort 100 doesn’t find that balance.

And here’s the thing: I actually enjoy sweetness in my whiskey. Give me caramel, vanilla, chocolate, cherries and a thick, rich mouthfeel, and I’m generally a happy camper. I’m hardly someone who insists that every bourbon taste like an oak barrel or a leather-bound book.

But I want some complexity. I want the flavors to play off one another. I want the sweetness to have something standing opposite it. Southern Comfort gives me sweetness standing opposite more sweetness.

At $18.99, however, it’s hard to be too angry about the purchase. There are worse ways to spend 19 bucks, and this wasn’t an undrinkable whiskey. Its affordability helps considerably in the Bourbon Cheapskate calculations.

Still, my score of 72.53 puts Southern Comfort 100 toward the bottom of my shelf.

I doubt I’ll be reaching for it when I want to sit down and enjoy a whiskey after a long day. But the next time I have a generic cola sitting around begging for something to liven it up, Southern Comfort 100 might get another opportunity.

After all, that’s pretty much how I enjoyed it 35 or 40 years ago. Some things never change.

Final Score: 72.53

The Cheapskate Verdict: A bargain-priced blast from the past that’s better suited for mixing than sipping. Southern Comfort 100 offers plenty of fruit and sweetness, but not nearly enough whiskey character or balance to make it a satisfying pour on its own.