Maker's Mark

This week we break the red wax: Maker's Mark. We taste it honestly — caramel and fresh bread on the nose, honey and baking spice rounded off by soft winter wheat, a finish entirely without drama — and we take seriously the doctrine underneath it: the same, batch after batch, on purpose, forever. Then we profile the most faithful man in bourbon: the orthodontist who has ordered one drink for twenty-two years, who met a rare allocated pour and said "that's well made" before ordering a Maker's, and who has his actual name on a brass plate on an actual barrel in Loretto, Kentucky, which he visits, in his words, to "check on." A loving roast that turns into a meditation on the road not taken by every other man on this show — loyalty as peace in an industry selling restlessness. Tasting notes and character flaws, as always.