Weekly Bourbon Review!

FAUX Bourbon Review

Rio Brazos Toasted Oak Texas Bourbon

Consumed in Texas the night before a golf round that should probably be wiped from the historical record.

My brother-in-law Chris and I bought this bottle the night before we went golfing. Now Chris is the kind of guy who has won the club championship 311 times the last five years, which means he walks into a liquor store the same way he walks onto a golf course—confident, smug, and fully aware that he’s about to beat the hell out of whoever is standing next to him.

Meanwhile I’m the guy who sees the label “Toasted Oak Texas Bourbon” and thinks,

“Well hell… that sounds legitimate.”

So we brought it home, opened it up in his kitchen, and started doing what brother-in-laws do best: drinking bourbon, talking trash, and telling stories that get less accurate with every pour.

Nose

Right away you get toasted oak, caramel, and a strong whiff of Texas heat. Then there’s something else in there… maybe varnish… maybe sawdust… maybe the smell of a garage where a man is working on a lawn mower he absolutely does not know how to fix.

Not horrible. But definitely the kind of aroma that makes you tilt your head a little and say,

“Hmm… interesting.”

Palate

The first sip hits hotter than a shanked 7-iron.

You get oak, brown sugar, some pepper, and a flavor that sits somewhere between leather, burnt wood, and mild poor decision making.

It’s not undrinkable… but it’s also not the kind of bourbon that makes you pause and admire the craftsmanship.

It’s the kind that makes you shrug and say,

“Well… we already opened it.”

Finish

The finish sticks around with oak and spice and a lingering warmth that feels suspiciously like a warning.

And in hindsight, it was a warning.

Because the next morning we teed it up… and my golf game looked like a man trying to fight gravity with a set of metal sticks.

Slices. Chunks. Worm burners.

Balls disappearing into the Texas wilderness like they owed somebody money.

Now Chris would probably say my swing was the problem.

But I know the truth.

This bottle sabotaged me.

Would I Share This With an Enemy?

No.

Even enemies deserve basic human rights.

Would I Share It With a Friend?

Also no.

Would I Keep a Bottle on My Shelf?

No.

But that’s mainly because I left it in Texas, which feels like the whiskey equivalent of abandoning a bad decision where you made it.

Final Rating

I’m not rating this one out of ten.

I’m rating it one brother-in-law out of one.

Because Chris may be an asshole—legally required for the title of brother-in-law—but he’s also one of my favorite people on the planet to drink bourbon with.

And if a questionable Texas bourbon the night before golf is the price of admission…

Well hell.

I guess I’ll just have to keep sacrificing my golf game for the good of family tradition. 🥃