Booze Review – Fireball Cinnamon Whisky

By Boozedancing @boozedancing

You know how I know I’m old? Because I’m 47 years old and this is my first time drinking Fireball Cinnamon Whisky! There has been so much talk about this stuff amongst the whisky blogerati (most of them had bad things to say about it) that I just had to try it for myself to see what all the fuss is about.

Fireball Cinnamon Whisky is a seriously hot commodity. According to a recent Business Insider article, retail sales have grown from just $1.9 million in 2011 to over $61 million in 2013. Now THAT’s what I call a booming business!

Hot seller or not, I’m here to determine if I like the stuff. Let’s get on with the review…

I’m not gonna bother with the “appearance, aroma, and taste” business that we usually put you poor people through whenever we review anything on this blog, because there is absolutely nothing subtle, nuanced, or complex about Fireball Cinnamon Whisky. If you put a Hot Tamale, a Red Hot, a pack of Big Red gum, oodles of simple syrup, and grain alcohol through one of those juicer thingamobbers, what would come out the other end is Fireball Cinnamon Whisky.

This stuff is thick and syrupy sweet at the onset followed immediately by a healthy cinnamon kick that keeps on building and building as you approach the finish. Once you suck it down, the hot cinnamon flavor hangs on for dear life and builds even more. When it finally fades, your lips and teeth are left with a clingy sugary coating that’ll make you wish you packed a toothbrush. I don’t hate the stuff, but I can completely understand why the youngsters drink this as a shot. This is not a sipping and savoring kind of spirit. Suck it down quick and move on to the next one. Just be sure to have a bathroom nearby because after having several of these in a row, a trip to the porcelain god can’t be too far off.

If Fireball Whisky were a car, it would be a mid to late 60s American muscle car. Zero to sixty would be its forte, so stay far far away from the Tail of the Dragon or the Stelvio Passand stick to those Friday night, LA to Las Vegas high speed runs through the desert. “Vegas Baby… VEGAS!” That’s what I’M talking about!