Widow Jane Baby Jane
Intro
Some bourbons whisper. Some yell. And some sound like they should be dual-wielding pistols in a Western shootout. Enter Baby Jane, a name that practically begs for drama, suspense, and a killer twist. So when I saw Widow Jane Baby Jane on the shelf, I figured this bottle was either going to knock my socks off or confuse me like a Christopher Nolan plot. Spoiler: it leaned Nolan—but was it satisfying enough.
Distillery History
Widow Jane was founded in 2012 in Red Hook, Brooklyn—a neighborhood known for cobblestones, bearded bartenders, and a deep passion for “locally sourced everything.” But Widow Jane wasn’t just another hipster flash-in-the-pan. They quickly made a name for themselves in the whiskey world by blending bold sourcing choices with creative distilling.
Here’s the twist: while many of their early releases were blends of sourced bourbons from Kentucky, Tennessee, and Indiana, they elevated them by cutting the whiskey with limestone mineral water from the legendary Rosendale Mines of New York. That water? It once helped build the Brooklyn Bridge and the Statue of Liberty’s pedestal. So yeah, it's got history—and apparently, a pretty solid mineral profile too.
But Widow Jane didn’t stop at blending. Over time, they shifted toward distilling their own juice, experimenting with unique grains and aging techniques. That brings us to Baby Jane—a bourbon made entirely in-house, from their own proprietary corn hybrid, developed by a fifth-generation seed farmer and named (you guessed it) Baby Jane. It was a bold move to show they could walk the walk, not just blend the blend.
Bottle Design
Let’s talk curb appeal. Baby Jane’s bottle is clean, slightly industrial, and just Brooklyn enough to make you feel like you’re not cool enough to drink it without ironic glasses and a flannel shirt. The label is minimalist, with a black-and-copper vibe that screams “artisanal cocktail menu, $18 minimum.” Honestly, it looks great on a shelf. Just don’t judge a bourbon by its bottle—or its boutique corn.
The Pour
In the glass, Baby Jane shows up with a soft amber color. A little too light for me—but maybe just enough to make you think something interesting might happen.
The Nose
I gave it a swirl and took a sniff, expecting some warm vanilla or toasted sugar to pop out. Instead, I got…soft oak, faint caramel, and maybe a little cornbread trying to hide in the background like it didn’t want to be noticed. It’s subtle. Real subtle.
The Palate
Okay, here’s where it should get exciting. The sip is light—too light for my taste. I wanted depth and maybe complexity, but got a surface-level conversation about weather. Notes of honey, a touch of oak, and a fleeting bit of stone fruit. It’s smooth, yes, but in a “diet version of real flavor” way. I kept sipping, waiting for something to show up and punch me in the taste buds. Baby Jane just ghosted me instead.
The Finish
Gone in a flash. Like a Tinder date that ends mid-sentence.
There’s a whisper of spice and corn sweetness, but no real linger. No warm Kentucky, or is it a Brooklyn hug? No “hello darkness my old friend” moment. It ends like it begins: politely, quietly, and without making eye contact.
Final Thoughts
Listen—I wanted to like it. I’ve had a soft spot for Widow Jane since their 10-Year and their Decednace bottle had me rethinking what craft bourbon could be. But Baby Jane? She’s a different character entirely.
Too light, too restrained, and missing that bold, brash heart that Widow Jane usually delivers. I appreciate the experimental spirit, and I respect the heirloom corn effort. But sometimes you spend a lot of time breeding a fancy corn only to end up with a bourbon that tastes like it’s still figuring out who it is.
If Widow Jane 10-Year is a brooding jazz solo in a smoky lounge, Baby Jane is elevator music on the way up.
Cheers to a dram good time! 🥃✨
The Details:
Proof: 91 • Distillery: Widow Jane • Mashbill: 80% Corn • 10% Rye • 10% Barley • Aged: 2-6yrs •Price: $50
Brown Water Rating Scale:
Nose: 2 • Palate: 2 • Finish: 2 • Uniqueness: 2 • Value: 4 • Overall: 2.4
This is a 5-point scale based on my own preferences. This was also tested by my father-in-law, another whiskey lover. 