20 Years in Oak: A Story of Success for New England Barrel Company
- Jes Smyth
- 2 days ago
- 4 min read
Updated: 5 minutes ago

Does whiskey get better with time? Or does it get better with change? Is it possible to separate one from the other? In theory, time aids in change. The longer whiskey ages in a barrel, the more it should change. However, more time doesn't necessarily mean better. No one wants to sip on an over-oaked whiskey. Conversely, more change doesn't necessarily mean better either. Too many cask finishes and too much disturbance can sometimes result in a disjointed flavor profile.
I've been fortunate enough to experience various examples of hyper-aged whiskey, from the incredible Redbreast 30 Year Dream Cask to the unparalleled Michter's 20-year, and several others in between. What I've come to conclude is that a delicate balance is necessary for these oldies to truly shine. With a curious palate intact, I've begun asking questions about distillate, cooperage, and barrel entry proof.
How is it that a 30-year whiskey can result in such a complexity of flavor? Could it be the gentle flavors of Irish pot distilled whiskey marrying in perfection with the oak from its barrel? What makes one 20-year bourbon dance in a kaleidoscope of flavors while another, just two years younger, stand determinedly loud in its oaky age? Could it be a lower barrel entry proof? Or is it a lower rye mashbill?
The answers to this thought experiment will likely not be found within the meandering mind of a whiskey reviewer, but they may be found in the exploration of hyper-aged whiskey. New England Barrel Company has joined the ranks of hyper-aged releases with their Founders Selection 20 year single barrel releases. These Tennessee distilled barrels are the rarest to date from the brand and a great example of why trusted NDPs are an essential thread in the fabric of this vibrant whiskey market.

Thanks to the generosity of founder James Saunders, I've had the opportunity to spend ample time with the New England Barrel Company Founder Selection 20 year bourbon barrel TN109, and have deepened my understanding of distillate comparisons in hyper-aged whiskey. I'm thankful that New England Barrel Company sent along this bottle for the purpose of a review, with no strings attached, and that I can offer my honest opinion, dear reader. So, let's get to it, shall we?
Company on Label: New England Barrel Company
Whiskey Type: Straight bourbon whiskey
Mash Bill Percentages: 84% corn, 8% rye, 8% malt barley
Proof: 118°
Age: 20 Years
MSRP: $274.99
Further Identification: This is barrel TN109 of the 2025 Founders Selection
Nose: The first word that pops into my mind is unctuous. Well-aged whiskeys have the capability of immediately inserting a texture into my nose, and this one has quickly checked that box. Funky sweetness in the form of stewed raspberries, thick vanilla syrup, and the bottom of a freshly baked cinnamon bun mix and mingle like it's no big deal. The fruitiness cannot be overstated, and the age is transforming what might have been a chalky sweetness into a vanilla cream cheese frosting, a sticky raspberry tart filling, and an overlaying hint of old leather, soft and worn, like an old armchair chilling in the middle of a damp and fragrant rickhouse. More fruit drifts out of my glass as I sit and swirl, crates of summertime peaches, warm and sweet and ready to be grilled. This nose is charmingly expressive. I'm ready for a sip.
Returning to the nose after a sip has transported me into a note I sometimes get on hyper-aged whiskey: cheese. This is a particularly bright cheese, similar to sharp cheddar, perfect for melting in fondue, accompanied by a bubbling pot of caramel, a plate of saltine crackers, and a hint of ground coffee beans, fruit compote, and baked apple skins. This is so unlike any hyper-aged whiskey I've tasted, and I'm not going anywhere. As I approach the last of what remains in my glass, I'm confounded by the doughiness I find, even with so little liquid left in my glass. The empty glass smells of sticky fruit, melted milk chocolate, and the last warm breeze of summer.
Palate: The liquid coats every bit of my tongue, like velvet. Quite lovely, but that was all I could register on my first sip. Sometimes, the mouthfeel does that. With a second sip, I'm reminded that this is old whiskey, as the oak influence makes itself known through baking spices, fresh ginger, and black pepper. There's a tartness to the flavors as well, or maybe that's an "aliveness." The linger reminds me of the smoke you would taste on a rack of barbecue ribs. A few additional sips bring in the abundance of fruit I found on the nose, but it took some time, which makes sense—there is quite a bit of old oak to get through. What I'm tasting isn't fresh or candied fruit, but rather a pie-filling quality, with strawberry rhubarb and a generous amount of baking spices. As time passes and the liquid in my glass disappears, the flavors seem to marry and relax. Baked goods stuffed with gooey fruit fillings, perfectly blended with baking spices like cinnamon and ginger, are chewy, slightly doughy, and tremendously delicious. My final sip is the best yet, with well-integrated flavors, a pleasant warmth, a consistent mouthfeel, and a bright, long-lasting finish.
TL;DR: an expressive and well-balanced sip from fruit to oak
Rating: 4.5/5
Time is currency. Those in the whiskey industry undoubtedly are aware of this for reasons entirely outside of their control. In my opinion, patience leads to true precision. This release is an excellent example of those who trust the process and their palates, knowing that the reward will present itself over time.
