Ooh! I've had a glass of the Midwinter Night stuff during an informal dégustation in a Kentucky-born friend's Manhattan apartment almost a decade ago. He gave me a crack at a half-dozen bottles he'd refrained from draining until I could show up to visit, all bourbons and ryes. (T'was an, ahem, interesting 60-block walk back to my hotel afterwards.) That stuff and Colonel Taylor 100-proof straight rye were the standouts for me, and there wasn't an uninteresting bottle in the lot.