The first release of Russell's Reserve Single Rickhouse is iconic: this may be the last release to feature whiskey aged in the Camp Nelson warehouse C, which has now been dismantled due to structural integrity concerns after continuous use since 1946. The Camp Nelson rickhouses, purchased in the 1990s by Pernod Ricard, border the Kentucky River roughly 45 minutes away from the Wild Turkey distillery. David Jennings, the sensational eminent source for all things Wild Turkey, notes that these rickhouses formerly aged Canada Dry bourbon. Yes, that Canada dry. The ginger ale producer bottled their bourbon from the 1950s through the 1970s, perhaps attributing to some of the unique characteristics of Camp Nelson that have stuck around into the modern era.
First released in October of 2022, Single Rickhouse took the whiskey world by storm. What had everyone up in arms? The crossroads of a novel label concept and the ultra-premium price point that came along with this release. Hitting retailers at an MSRP of $250 meant that only ardent fans of Wild Turkey, flippers, and collectors were gleefully scooping up this new label. Those that opened it also had a lot to say. While I'm quite late to the party, I'm grateful to have the opportunity to weigh in and offer my own point of view from an era in whiskey that will undoubtedly be categorized by a plethora of loud opinions.
Company on Label: Wild Turkey Distillery
Whiskey Type: Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey
Mash Bill Percentages: 75% corn, 13% rye, 12% malted barley
Proof: 112.4°
Age: NAS, though it's supposedly comprised of all 10+ year old barrels
MSRP: $250
Further identification: This is the inaugural release of single rickhouse, highlighting 72 barrels pulled from the 3rd and 4th floors of the now-dismantled and decommissioned Camp Nelson warehouse C; I'm grateful to James Wedding for sending along a 2 oz sample for the purposes of this review
Nose: On lifting the glass to my nose, I find classic Wild Turkey—sticky vanilla toffee, crème brûlée, and potent oak lead the way. It's got your classic, well-aged Kentucky wood spice, leaning on cinnamon, nutmeg, caramel, and black pepper. Deep inhales lead a touch dry, with allspice and vanilla bean dominating the profile. Smelling this glass completely transports me to standing in a rickhouse with Bruce Russell; funky wood aromas are everywhere. Vanilla, toffee, and a good bit of proof are the dominant fixtures on the nose here.
After a sip, the nose marches on with little change—vanilla extract, allspice, and toffee are moored to my glencairn. As the glass nears empty, the volume of aroma begins to fail drastically, as only wisps of pie crust and crème brûlée remain. The empty glencairn smells of potting soil and petunias.
Palate: My first sip is surprisingly floral, in contrast to the classic wood influence my nose was picking up. Another few sips settles the difference with vanilla whoopie pie filling, rum cashew, pecan, and milk chocolate rounding out a more complete profile. It's surprisingly light, and I find myself struggling to find an inherent quality to adore, other than the fact that this is an old faithful bourbon mashbill, distilled for many years now. To me, it doesn't drink all that far off from Wild Turkey 101, a staple bourbon in the whiskey world. A few sips, and the observer is likely to be apodictic in an educated guess as to the source of this distillate. My last taste leaves me longing for a more impressionable experience that I know Wild Turkey is capable of producing. I find thin veins of lemon juice and green tea in the medium finish.
TL;DR: A nice nose gives way to a blended-to-bits palate that doesn't quite register as unique
Rating: 3/5
This is a far cry from Wild Turkey greatness. The likes of Russell's 13 year quickly outpace this pour in more ways than one, and that's without even thinking about the cost discrepancies. The premiumization trend is very likely to bust here soon, and releases like this are certainly going to sour the taste in long-term whiskey enthusiasts' mouths. For those of us that are here to stay through boom and bust, these kinds of marketing gimmicks are one way to quickly self-immolate hard-earned respect. While this is by no means a bad bottle of whiskey, I fail to see a good justification for its existence when Russell's 10 year, Russell's 13 year, Kentucky Spirit, Rare Breed, and single barrel bourbon selections already produce the same range of aroma and flavor, sometimes even in exceeding quality. Here's to hoping later expressions from Single Rickhouse can improve from the experience here.
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