Even to the whiskey casual, Crown Royal requires no introduction. The widely known backstory of Samuel Bronfman creating it as a gift for the King and Queen of England visiting Canada notwithstanding, the decorative bottle (often accompanied by a bag) is considered the face of Canadian whisky. And like the Canadian whisky category itself, Crown Royal’s composition is somewhat vaguely defined. Five mash bills (rye, corn, and barley) are distilled on twelve column stills to produce what ultimately becomes the popular blended whisky. Crown Royal states that new or re-used oak barrels are used and aged across 51 warehouses to the blenders’ satisfaction.

Let’s see how satisfied this slightly obsessed consumer is by the final results.

Nose: Dry Lemon, Pound Cake, Damp Wood, Stale Coffee

Light, Grainy, Faint

Palate: Yellow Cake, Light Brown Sugar, Honey, Moss

Stale, Mild, Weak

Finish: White Pepper, Unsweetened Cereal, Cream, Biscotti

Mellow, Short, Watery

Sometimes going back to basics can leave you pleasantly surprised. Your everyday shelf product might not elicit nearly the excitement of a more upscale or limited release, but they have their place. A few of them even hold up quite well to re-examining out of curiosity.

Crown Royal isn’t one of these examples. While the whisky is technically serviceable, it feels specifically tailored to be as inoffensive as possible, boredom be damned. Some spirits make for challenging pours due to their strong, unique profiles that may be construed as nasty. Crown Royal is challenging in that it’s so much the opposite that it makes me wonder if it’s better or worse than stuff that I still find off-putting. Maybe Crown Royal’s appeal is in preparing stiff drinks while looking fancy with the admittedly attractive bottle. But even then, I struggle to think of a scenario where I’d call for Crown Royal over grain spirits from other countries and producers.