Whiskey Review: Tap 357 Canadian Maple Rye

is…maple syrup. It smells like old breakfast dishes. It smells like someone had pancakes and waffles, drenched them with syrup, ate half of them and no one’s come around to clear the table, even though it’s been half an hour while would-be brunchers stomp their heels outside in the rain. It smells like sad lonely brunch frustration. It tastes…just like it smells. I feel it in my teeth. I feel it wearing away my teeth. This is something dentists should collect on Halloween and pay you back for. A full minute after sipping, I could still taste maple. Only maple. Cloying! When I forced this on charitable and patient co-tasters, they offered more tactful responses, comparing it to dessert wine or calling it “Maybe ok in a cocktail with lemonade,” to which I replied, “So, it’s like the Master Cleanse went to the bar?” When did it not be okay to have whiskey taste like whiskey? It retails for $30—about $19 too much, should you want to find a bottle. Out of the kindness of my co-tasters’ hearts (or inferior