Regular old Jameson because why not?

JAMESON TRIPLE DISTILLED IRISH WHISKEY
standard release

MASH BILL – unstated blend of malted and unmalted Irish barley

PROOF – 80 proof

AGE – NAS

DISTILLERY – Midleton

PRICE – “borrowed” it from an office party (normally ~$30)

WORTH BUYING? – Sure

Tasted in The Year of No Buying (The what? 🔗 here.)

For my last post of any given year I usually try to pick something either celebratory or reflective—some old label version of something or a philosophical rumination or a comparison between two snazzy bottles. But this year I decided to flip the script and go with something down, dirty, and dependable. Jameson. Because why not?

Back in March 2023 I was tasked with providing the Irish Coffees for a St. Patrick’s Day office party. A co-worker of Irish heritage, who played in a local bagpipe troupe, shared with us some tunes and baked some traditional Irish soda bread. Delicious! I served Jameson, both neat and in an Irish Coffee—whiskey, coffee, whole cream floated across the top. Some people still add the traditional brown sugar, but I skipped that.

Irish Coffee has occasionally been errantly attributed to The Buena Vista, a San Francisco institution holding down the corner of Hyde and Beach Streets since 1916. This is because in 1952, then-owner Jack Koeppler and international travel writer Stanton Delaplane spent a fabled night trying to recreate from memory an “Irish Coffee” served at Ireland’s Shannon Airport during World War Two. Koeppler eventually made a trip to the source to confirm the recipe. Further tweaks were made to better guarantee the cream would float elegantly on top of the coffee and whiskey. The Buena Vista started serving the drink, and today the bartenders there likely make more Irish Coffees in an hour than most bars make in a month or year!

So the true origin of Irish Coffee is the city of Foynes, in County Limerick on Ireland’s west coast, specifically at Shannon Airport. Why an airport? In the 1940s, Shannon Airport was a key stop for flights between Europe, the United States, and Canada. Storms frequently delayed flights at the seaside airport, and indoor heating wasn’t what it is today. To warm weary travelers, many of them refugees or military personnel in transit between destinations, the airport’s restaurant served its coffee mixed with brown sugar, whiskey, and heavy cream. It was there in 1942 that Stanton Delaplane had his first “Irish Coffee.”

Ten years later Delaplane spent that late night at The Buena Vista with Koeppler. And now 70+ more years on, here we are.

The Buena Vista uses Tullamore Dew as their whiskey. It’s not my fave among the bargain whiskeys, so I chose Jameson for the office party. We went through a couple bottles. When the party was done, half a bottle remained. Digging around an office cabinet for something recently, I found it shoved behind some empty binders, still half full. I hadn’t had Jameson in quite a while—since that party, actually. So I brought the bottle home to give it a proper tasting.

Some might argue the standard Jameson release is in no need of “a proper tasting.” It’s a ubiquitous cheap whiskey, mass produced for fast consumption not leisurely contemplation. It’s bottled at whiskey’s minimum 40% ABV, infused with artificial coloring, and chill filtered to guarantee clarity so that people who don’t think about whiskey won’t assume it’s gone bad when the ice hits and it clouds up with those flavorful fatty acids. Chill filtering removes those good flavors, but circumvents uninformed customer complaints. Standard Jameson is not a connoisseur’s whiskey, and it’s not sorry about it. Just drink it.

So here we are to do exactly that. It’s now nine months after uncapping and halfway into the bottle. These brief notes were taken using both a simple tumbler and a traditional Glencairn.

COLOR – dirty yet vibrant antique oranges, ambers, and brass

NOSE – both raw and baked pear, vanilla, custard, banana flavoring, lemon, an artificial papaya flavor, floury pastry crust, plastic, aluminum

TASTE – sugary, vanilla, light caramel custard, floury pastry crust, grapefruit peel

FINISH – comfortably warm, with vanilla, floury pastry crust, the custard notes tasting cheaper now, a touch of banana

OVERALL – a perfectly fine and uneventful workhorse whiskey

There’s neither anything wrong with this nor anything remarkable about it. Even at the legal whiskey minimum of 40% ABV, it will get you drunk if that’s your goal. It will spike your coffee well. You can sip it amicably when other things have your attention. It’s not going to distract you from anything else you might be doing. You can buy it for your parties where nobody will be sitting down to contemplate anything and it will be a welcome guest in any glass or plastic cup.

I’ll admit to hoping this cheap stalwart would surprise me with previously unappreciated panache. Nope. It tastes cheap. Not bad, just cheap. And unpretentious. Nothing on the label suggests it’s anything other than what it is.

I’ve certainly had worse cheap whiskeys. This is a legitimately friendly pour. Maybe because of the low cost, even the plastic note doesn’t irk me like it does in certain pricier Midleton offerings. If I went to a bar or party and this was the best they had, I’d gladly take it.

There’s room on god’s bar for all whiskey’s creatures.

Sláinte!

Five O’Clock Somewhere

Of course I made an Irish Coffee.

Sometimes I actually skip the coffee and use coffee liqueur instead, for a kickier after-dinner variation. But no attempt at niceties today, other than the fancy Irish crystal glass. Just a shot of Jameson added to some fresh hot coffee from the corner store, topped with heavy cream very lightly whipped, and sipped at 9:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning—which is 5:00 p.m. in Ireland, so, don’t judge.

Sláinte!