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Hello, old friend! It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Yes, our friend Old No. 7 has come around once again, and he’s looking sharper than ever.

An iconic whiskey, referenced in even the most dubious bits of pop culture, Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whiskey is an old stalwart that just keeps trucking. Produced by the Jack Daniel Distillery, which is supposed to have been founded in 1866 (although this is disputed), Jack Daniel’s whiskey is the best selling whiskey in the world, and the main ingredient in the classic Jack and Coke.

Daniel’s is classified as a sour mash Tennessee whiskey, although it actually qualifies as a straight bourbon. The process that makes it a Tennessee whiskey is its filtering through sugar maple charcoal in giant wooden containers before being aged. This, I would imagine, is where it gets its sweet flavor.

So we’ve got our Jack in a rocks glass – no rocks, mind you. Just us and the Jack. I don’t want any funny business from some rogue ice cube, know what I’m sayin’? It’s a much lighter color than I’m used to, since it’s been kind of a Scotch year for me. Nevertheless, the pleasant golden glow of the whiskey is still easy on the eyes. Let’s do this one up right, shall we?

Boy, this one has a nose on it! When you take a whiff of Jack Daniel’s, you’re getting all the corn has to offer. Oak, sweetness and that sour bourbon bite sting the nostrils and remind us that this isn’t some fancy schmancy beverage that you drink while lounging in a leather armchair while listening to an audiobook of Tolstoy. Hell no – you drink Jack out of a plastic “Who’s the Boss?” mug that’s got a large Tony Danza face on it while you watch Family Feud and eat a T.V. dinner. Oh, and that couch you’re sitting on had better look like a box of crayons puked on it, and don’t forget the plastic cover, hoss.

Yeah, so this is a sippin’ whiskey, but man, I must be spoiled by Scotch because this was more difficult to put back than I remember. Immediately on the tongue you get the sweetness and oak, followed immediately by a burning sensation in the back of the throat that I can only relate to what it must feel like to swallow a wasp on a dare. On the finish, however, the sweetness and oak lingers, which is nice after being punched in the esophagus.

I’d tell you to stick to mixed drinks with this one, but then I’d be doing Tennessee rednecks a disservice. Instead, if you’ve got a rot-iron throat, go ahead and sip this one. Or shoot it, whatever.