First Sip
I was sitting in a spot over in Gahanna, trying to mind my business and pick something new off the list, when the bartender slid me a pour of Whiskey War Cigar Cask. Living in Columbus, I’ve heard folks talk about this one, but I hadn’t chased it down. First sniff and sip, my brain went straight to Lane Rothschild’s Christmas apple cake. Lane drops that gift on us every December, and I swear I can taste the cinnamon sugar crust as I’m typing this. This whiskey raised the corners of my mouth before I even set the glass down. If a pour can tap you on the shoulder with a memory, this one did it.
The Pour
Color’s a comfortable amber, the kind you see and already know it’s got a little richness to it. It hits the glass with that 116 proof confidence, and you can tell it’s not thin. Aged at least five years, and it looks the part. I didn’t get lost staring at legs or anything, but it clung enough that I figured we were in for a slow ride rather than a quick splash.
Nose
Vanilla and cinnamon lead the way, and there’s this warm baked thing going on that reads spiced apple cake to me. That’s where the memory of Lane’s treat kicked in. Someone at the table mentioned coconut and banana from the distillery’s notes, and I can see how folks might find a little of that drifting around the edges as it sits, but for me the nose stayed mostly in that cozy bakery lane. The website also talks about a tobacco note, and I suppose there’s a slight leafiness if you go looking, but it doesn’t jump out or set the tone.
Palate
First sip confirms it. Cinnamon up front, brown sugar draped over the top, and a bunch of familiar baking spice in the middle. Apple cake again. You get that sweet-and-spice rhythm without it turning syrupy. The body’s got some heft and carries the flavors well, but it never feels sticky or heavy. For a high proof pour, it stays friendly. I was braced for heat that never really showed up in a big way. It’s got some spark the way a rye-leaning blend tends to, but the fire never takes over. If you’ve tried Amburana-finished stuff before, you’ll spot its fingerprints here. That wood can throw cinnamon and brown sugar like it’s trying to win a county fair, and that’s exactly what’s happening.
For the curious, High Bank says this is their Whiskey War Barrel Proof with a second maturation in Brazilian Amburana for as little as six days or up to ninety, which lines up with what the sip’s telling me. Amburana doesn’t take long to make a fuss, and you can taste its quick work in the spice cabinet.
Finish
Long and smooth. The sweetness eases off and you’re left with subtle oak, a little banana, and a hint of coconut that shows up like an afterthought. Nothing bitter or drying. It just strolls along. Heat stays tucked in, which is a nice trick at this proof. The spice doesn’t vanish, but it relaxes into something more like a warm baking pan set on the counter to cool.
The Verdict
I went in not knowing it was Amburana-finished and figured it out in about two sips. That strong cinnamon and brown sugar angle gives it away, but in a good way. If your sweet tooth likes to dance with spice, this will hit you right. If you’re hunting smoke or heavy oak, keep looking, because this one doesn’t mess with either much. The balance works for me. Plenty of flavor, comfortable body, long finish, and nothing that bites back harder than it should.
Now, the provenance talk always gets folks fired up. The bartender told me it was homemade, distilled and aged over in Grandview. The website, meanwhile, lays out that Whiskey War is a blend of mash bills sourced from MGP in Indiana and blended in-house. They’ve won a pile of awards with it, including some San Francisco World Spirits Competition love, and the Cigar Cask expression gets that extra Amburana rest. I’m not here to referee what’s sourced and what’s house-made today. The glass is good, and that’s the part I’m taking home. If you’re curious, check High Bank’s site for the current story. They’re pretty open about their process.
Would I pour it again? In a heartbeat. This is dessert-adjacent without turning into a sugar bomb. It’s got enough spice and backbone to keep it from being a one-note sweet pour, and the finish hangs out long enough to keep you company. I’d happily hand this to someone who says they want something festive, or to a bourbon drinker who claims they’re over Amburana and then watch them nod after a sip. If you like a pour that tastes like the best parts of a holiday kitchen, this one’s right up your alley.
And for the record, that tobacco note they advertise stays in the backseat for me, which I appreciate. The name says Cigar Cask, but it doesn’t feel like a cigar lounge smacked your glass. It’s more a wink than a wallop. All in all, a winner from High Bank. If I catch this on a menu again, I won’t think twice. I’ll order it, settle in, and start counting down the days till Lane drops that apple cake on the porch again.
