A guide with tastiest to try

St. Patrick’s Day isn’t merely a celebration of the Irish. It’s also the a chance to celebrate one of the Emerald Isles’ finest exports: Irish whiskey.

Irish whiskeys generally clock in with smooth notes of grain and a moderate alcohol by volume number — less than 47.4 percent — to create a gentle sipper in a landscape of big, brash malts. While brands like Jameson and Bushmills tend to dominate the liquor stores and bar shelves, there’s far more the spirit has to offer than your local bartender’s shot of choice.

My role reviewing pretty much all things fit to drink (and some not) here at FTW has helped expand my palate. Let’s talk about the Irish booze, from whiskey to gin, I’ve drank over the past year and where it might fit into your St. Patrick’s Day plans.

If you’re looking for a little more depth or strength in your dram: Natterjack Irish Whiskey

The Mistake: A-

The bottle promises a triple distilled, heavily oaked Irish whiskey. That leads me to think it could be closer to a bourbon in its profile, and that’s interesting enough that I started here (instead of the cask strength, which would have been my choice if I weren’t on the clock right now). The label also tells me this spirit was aged in its barrel longer than intended, which, pretty good mistake to make.

It pours a charming caramel brown that backs up that extra time passing through oak fibers. The smell is sweet and woody with a little boozy sting at the end.

It’s strong up front, but doesn’t burn. In fact, the lingering aftertaste is boozy, sweet vanilla. In between is light — there’s isn’t the complexity you’d get from a Scotch or full flavor of a bourbon. Instead, it lingers in that mellowness, floating in a space where you get some nice flavors in an approachable wrapper.

Compared to a more popular Irish whiskey like, say, Powers you’ll find a more forgiving spirit. It’s an immensely easy sipper. Not quite as rewarding as some of the stronger boozes out there but exceedingly smooth and enjoyable. I could get through a lot of this in an hour without issue. That’s both a good thing and, for me, a problem.

Natterjack Irish Whiskey: B

It pours a lighter brown and smells similarly light. There’s a sweetness here you’d expect from an Irish whiskey — a little fruitiness, too? —  as well with just enough of a boozy finish to let you know you’re getting a full 80 proof.

That sweetness holds through the first sip. There’s some oak, a little vanilla and other gentle flavors for what is, like The Mistake, an incredibly easy to drink malt. There’s no burn to it, and while it’s unmistakably Irish whiskey it’s much more mellow than the standard bearers in the category. This would be a significantly more pleasant shot for whiskey neophytes than your standard Powers or Jameson.

On the other hand, there isn’t much explicitly “IRISH WHISKEY” about this. You can taste the corn that makes up the bulk of the mash here, which casts off a minor bourbon/Canadian whiskey vibe. That’s not a problem, obviously, just something that sticks out.

Natterjack Cask Strength: A

The smoothness of the other two blends is about to be put to the test. The other Natterjacks didn’t burn, but they didn’t clock in at 126 proof, either. It pours dark and rich. It smells like the oak barrels it was matured in, but there’s definitely more of a boozy ring that circles your nose when you inhale deeply.

The opening sip is sweet corn on your tongue. There’s a little caramel and vanilla. When you go to swallow is when the heat kicks in. Nothing harsh, but enough to let you know this is straight from the barrel. There’s a little salt to it and the lingering aftertaste drops a liiiitttttle bit of plum-like fruit on you.

It’s more difficult to sip than its predecessors, but more rewarding. It’s not inaccessible, but not a beginner’s whisky either. Taken neat, it’s got a lot to offer before some boozy spice, which roars in but quickly dials back to a simmer as that sweetness takes over. It feels a little like an old timey dessert — bread pudding or something with some brown sugar, raisins and assorted carbohydrates.

At around $80 to $90, you’re putting out a significant outlay for Irish whiskey. As a Scotch lover, this makes a lot of sense to me. Its rough edges are part of the charm. The burn is part of the appeal. It lingers nicely and takes its time getting there, going through a few phases to present a lovely, complex dram.

Well, damn, Natterjack knows what it’s doing.

If you’re looking for a smooth twist on a classic: Jameson Triple Triple

Named after that one time John Jameson messed around and scored 120 points with 100 rebounds and 100 assists in a rec league game at the Dublin CYO, this whiskey promises more depth than your typical pour. It’s been distilled thrice, hitting bourbon, sherry and chestnut casks along the way. That suggests a smoother sip with more flavor than the typical Jameson. So how does it taste?

Jameson Triple Triple neat: B

It pours what feels like a darker shade of brown than the regular version, but I can’t be sure since colors are my Waterloo. It smells fruitier and sweeter than the typical fifth, with appealing notes of stone fruit and oak that call back to its time in a sherry cask.

It’s undeniably more complex than the version of Jameson I’m used to — which is as a chilled shot from a friendly bartender who is either bored or at the end of their shift. That fruit influence lingers throughout, tamping down the heat and creating a deliciously smooth whiskey. Factor in some oak and vanilla and you’ve got a surprisingly complex blend from a brand that isn’t typically known for it.

Still, you’re getting that Jameson malt that carries the whole process along. All in all, I got vanilla, oak, honey, plum and a little cinnamon sugar. You won’t get the depth you might like from a Scotch or a longer aged Irish whiskey, but you get a lot to sort through in the course of a short sip. That’s a step up from the regular Jameson — and at about $30 per fifth, it’s a solid value and an easy spirit to drink neat or on ice.

If you want your Irish whiskey sweet (really sweet): Two Stacks

Two Stacks promises a robust blend of things that work great as single malts. Pot still whiskey in sherry casks? Awesome. Single grain malts in virgin oak casks? Sounds like a winner to me. Peated whiskey in a bourbon cask? That’s pretty much all I ask for in this world.

Two Stacks takes those, and more, in different concentrations to create a master blend of Irish whiskey. The promise is smooth, slightly sweet spirit with faint connections to worlds outside the standards of Jameson and Powers. That’s a world worth investigating, so I’m in.

Two Stacks Irish Whiskey: B-

It pours a light caramel with just enough stickiness to leave some slowly dissipating legs down the side of the glass. It smells sweet, malty, oaky and juuuuust a little smoky. The peat is a minor piece of the blend (two percent) but its warmth rings each sniff.

The first sip is sweet and malty. There’s a breakfast cereal vibe to it, at least until a little bit of heat clocks in at the end — nothing overwhelming, just what you’d expect from a whiskey. That sugar and vanilla — you get a lot of the oak elements here — linger after the heat’s gone. You also get some of the fruit from that sherry cask, which adds to the sweetness, giving off a bit of a raisin vibe.

That makes it a little difficult as a sipper, not for the reasons you’d expect from an 86 proof Irish whiskey. There’s a novelty to it, as I’ve never had an Irish whiskey like it. If you like sweeter, rye-ish drams this might scratch your itch. For me, it’s… fine.

If you want a little bit of rye in your Irish whiskey: Keeper’s Heart

First thing first: I liked Keeper’s Heart enough to make it a part of a very dumb cocktail to celebrate a Notre Dame-Clemson game. And if it’s good enough for the Fighting Irish (and some off-brand Dippin’ Dots), it’s good enough for me. (I also used it with the state drink of Rhode Island, coffee milk to immortalize a Brown vs. URI game. We need more football-specific cocktails, says I).

Keeper’s Heart is a blend of Irish whiskeys and American rye. Everything is aged at least four years, so you’re getting two sweeter malts combined into one smooth, but still strong, spirit. Dig deep and you get some of those Irish herbs, balanced against the sweet grain of the rye and the oaky vanilla notes left behind in its barreling. It’s solid on its own, but as you can tell by my first paragraph, shines in a cocktail — stupid or otherwise.

If you’re sick of Irish whiskey but still want to celebrate Ireland: The Muff Liquor Company’s gin and vodka

Look, I hear it. The folks in marketing clearly did as well, because “muff” and “liquor” are in larger fonts than anything else on the label.

But Muff is a village in north Ireland (near the border of Northern Ireland) that recently launched in the United States. And the local distiller cast a wider net than traditional Irish spirits. Their whiskey is a peated blend of grain and malt whiskey. There’s also vodka made from local potatoes and a gin made from, well, local potatoes and, interestingly enough, a little bit of champagne extract.

Let’s give all three a whirl.

Irish Whiskey: B

It’s got a medium bodied color and no age on the label — which makes sense, since it’s a blend. The peat imparts a little smoke and earthiness that leaves it closer to a Scotch than your typical Jameson. That’s not a problem; I love Scotch. But it’s also just a little thin; the flavor doesn’t stretch all of the way to the back of the hallway and a minor boozy sting sneaks in.

It’s certainly grainy up front. You get a bunch of breakfast malts with a minor, but nice, smoky peat. While I had concerns about a fiery finish, The Muff’s Irish whiskey stays true to its inspiration. It’s smooth and mellow, leaving a little lingering warmth at the back of your throat but nothing that would make you wince.

Those cereal grains bring a sweetness that shows up in a moderate way at first. Then it gives way to some pepper and spice. Then it roars back with honey, leaving an almost gritty mouthfeel. There’s solid depth for a $35 bottle; an easy sipper with enough stages to keep you coming back to figure out what you’re tasting and what you’re missing.

You’ll have to be OK with a sweeter whiskey for TMLC’s Irish whiskey. It’s cheap enough to be an easy mixer, but smooth enough to drink neat for long stretches. That makes it a solid value — and a decent spirit.

Irish Gin: B

My favorite gin is made just an island away on Islay — a community better known for its whisky than anything else. That gives me hope for this Irish gin, which promises it has been distilled six times and infused with all the botanicals you’d expect from a craft spirit. Juniper, lemon, rosemary, etc.

I’m mixing this with Barritt’s tonic, since the brand’s ginger beer has put it in my circle of trust (and because I don’t want to sip gin neat). I’m not adding any citrus so I can see how the spirit holds up on (sort of) its own.

The smell off the top of the bottle is light, floral, fruity and sweet. It’s enticing and seems like the perfect match for a refreshing spring cocktail. The first sip backs this up. While there’s a little warmth at the tail end, the headline here is an almost syrupy sweet gin that matches the profile of the Irish whiskey. You get some of that honey, a little… orange? and its sweetness (along with some berry flavor) is the undercurrent behind the juniper you’d expect from a gin and a little light spice you would not.

That makes it an easy two-step cocktail. It doesn’t need a twist, but a little acidic sting would help balance things in a way the sweet citrus in the gin itself does not. It’s not the Botanist, but it’s much cheaper than the Botanist. So far, The Muff is two-for-two on value.

Irish Vodka: B

We’re back to the well with Barritt’s — a clean, sweet tonic that serves as your drink’s offensive lineman. You didn’t notice it? Perfect, that means it’s doing its job. Once again we’re looking at a spirit distilled six times. Which, 20 years ago, meant we ran a bottle of Kamchatka vodka threw a Brita filter six times to make it taste like Grey Goose (this did not work, but it *did* ruin a Brita filter).

In this case, the sweetness of the tonic carries the drink. You get some of the spice of a vodka underneath, but this vodka has very little in the way of taste when it comes to a (strongly made) cocktail. Pulling from the bottle backs this up. It’s sweet (surprise!), has a little honey and mild citrus, a little pepper and that back-end boozy warmth you’d expect from a vodka.

I don’t know how that would hold up in a bloody Mary — I’m gonna try that next — but in a vodka tonic it’s dangerously drinkable. While a twist would once again add the clash of tartness that finishes each sip crisply, this finishes a bit sloppy but not in an overwhelming way. You’re left with a sweet aftertaste that lingers pleasantly on your lips for minutes after you’ve put it back on the table.

This article originally appeared on For The Win: Best Irish whiskeys for St. Patrick’s Day: Bottles to taste