I’m Kayla, and I’ve got a nose that loves a story. I don’t mean a big nose. I mean a curious one. I’ve used these bottles, poured them in my own kitchen, and stuck my face in the glass like I was meeting a friend. You know what? The smell alone can sell you. If you want the full blow-by-blow, I turned the experience into a real-world sniff test of Irish whiskey over on the Brocach blog.
I tested four real Irish whiskeys that I drink at home: Jameson Black Barrel, Redbreast 12, Teeling Small Batch, and Bushmills 10. I focused on the “nose,” which is the smell before you take a sip. It’s kind of like reading the menu before you eat.
If you’d rather test-drive a dram before committing to a full bottle, you can nose most of these whiskeys at the Brocach Irish Pub & Whiskey Den and compare notes over a plate of fish and chips.
Tasting sessions sometimes lead to lively conversations and, occasionally, unexpected connections. If a road-trip ever lands you in Iowa and you’re curious about pairing a good pour with an equally no-strings social adventure, check out this local guide to casual sex in Cedar Rapids where you’ll discover discreet tips and user-vetted spots to meet like-minded adults without wasting time on endless swipes.
How I sniff (yes, I’ve got a little routine)
- I use a tulip glass. It holds the scent in a soft way.
- I keep the pour small. About two fingers.
- I swirl once, gently. Then I let it sit for a beat.
- I take a short sniff with my mouth a bit open. Sounds odd. But it works.
- A few drops of water? Sometimes it helps shy notes come out.
I do this at night after dinner, when the kitchen smells calm. No candles. No onions. Just me, the glass, and a little quiet.
If you want a deeper dive into the classic technique of evaluating aroma and flavor, Jameson offers a concise primer on how to taste whiskey.
Jameson Black Barrel — warm bakery air with a hint of char
The nose hits like caramel on a warm pan. Vanilla. Toffee. A little banana bread too. Then there’s that char note, like a toast crust. It smells cozy, like standing near the oven when you made cookies a bit too dark but still good.
I took it to my cousin’s backyard last summer. We had grilled corn. The whiskey’s nose picked up a sweet smoke that made me grin. Friendly and not fussy. I had laced up my battered but reliable Irish Setter Elk Tracker boots, and the char note felt as sturdy as the leather.
- Smells like: vanilla, toffee, light banana, gentle char
- Mood: easy, smooth, “let’s hang out”
Redbreast 12 — a fruit bowl with honey and a church pew
Okay, this one feels special. The nose has dried fruit and honey right away. Think raisins, sultanas, and a soft almond note. There’s a wood polish smell too, like an old bench in a quiet room. It’s not loud, but it’s steady.
It reminded me of my mom’s raisin bread. I stood there, eyes closed, and felt warm. Honestly, I almost forgot to take a sip.
- Smells like: dried fruit, honey, nuts, a touch of wood
- Mood: warm, calm, “tell me a story”
Teeling Small Batch — rum-kissed and a tiny bit wild
Teeling’s nose jumps out. Sweet in a bright way. Rum casks give it coconut and molasses. I get pineapple sometimes, and a banana chip vibe. It’s like a beach snack met an Irish pub. It shouldn’t work. But it does.
I brought this to a St. Patrick’s Day potluck with soda bread and butter. The nose cut through the butter in a sweet, playful way. I kept going back for another sniff. Then another. Oops.
- Smells like: coconut, molasses, banana chip, a hint of pineapple
- Mood: lively, sunny, “let’s try something fun”
Bushmills 10 — clean apple, bright lime, soft malt
This one smells neat and fresh. Green apple first, then lime zest and honey. Behind it sits clean malt, like fresh cereal. Simple, but not boring. It’s great when you want a clear, crisp nose that doesn’t push too hard.
I sip this when I’m cooking. Sounds silly, but the apple note helps me not over-salt the soup. It keeps me honest.
- Smells like: green apple, lime zest, honey, gentle malt
- Mood: crisp, tidy, “we’ve got this”
Quick compare (because choices can be a pain)
- Sweet and cozy? Jameson Black Barrel.
- Rich and layered? Redbreast 12.
- Fun and a bit tropical? Teeling Small Batch.
- Fresh and clean? Bushmills 10.
I know, I just cheered for all four. But here’s the thing: they’re different on purpose.
Tiny tips so your nose gets more love
- Take short sniffs, not deep gulps of air.
- Try adding two drops of water to see if the smell opens up.
- Don’t wear perfume or aftershave nearby. It steals the show.
- Let the glass sit for two minutes. Patience pays off.
New to the ritual? The Irish Whiskey Museum has a handy beginner’s guide to Irish whiskey tasting that walks you through each sensory step.
While we’re on the topic of senses—and how curiosity can lead us down delightfully unexpected rabbit holes—you might enjoy seeing how language can be as playful as a well-layered whiskey nose. For a cheeky French expression that explores an entirely different kind of reveal, hop over to this light-hearted explanation of “je montre mon minou” where you’ll pick up some cultural trivia perfect for sparking conversation during your next tasting session.
The good and the not-so-good
What I love:
- Irish whiskey noses feel welcoming. They rarely sting.
- You can pick out real-life stuff: fruit, honey, toast, wood.
- Great with food—cheese, chocolate, even buttered bread.
Like many everyday pleasures, it makes me think of those Irish inventions I already use without knowing—simple innovations that quietly elevate the moment.
What bugs me sometimes:
- Some noses can be too soft. You might want more punch.
- A few notes repeat across bottles, like vanilla and apple. I still like them, though.
My pick for different nights
- Weeknight wind-down: Bushmills 10. Clean and calm.
- Rainy Saturday with a book: Redbreast 12. Deep and cozy.
- Friends on the patio: Jameson Black Barrel. Easy and warm.
- Food and laughs: Teeling Small Batch. Bright and chatty.
Final sip, final sniff
If your nose wants a hug, start with Redbreast 12. If your nose wants a high-five, grab Teeling Small Batch. Me? I keep all four on my shelf. I know that sounds extra. But each one fits a mood.
And yes, I used and still use these bottles at home. I’ve spilled a few drops. I’ve sniffed them on quiet nights and loud ones. My Irish nose—curious, soft, a bit stubborn—keeps coming back for one more gentle smell before the sip. Isn’t that the best part?