Bomberger's Declaration has become one of those annual releases that commands attention without needing to shout about it. The 2025 edition arrives at a robust 54% ABV, non-age-stated, and carrying a price tag of £119 — positioning it firmly in the serious-but-not-outrageous bracket of American single malt. I've spent the better part of a week with this bottle, and I'm convinced it deserves a place in that conversation.
For those unfamiliar, Bomberger's sits within a category that's still finding its footing on this side of the Atlantic: American single malt. While Scotland and Japan have long defined what single malt means to most drinkers, the American contingent has been quietly building credibility. Bomberger's Declaration is one of the stronger arguments in that case. At 54%, this is bottled at a strength that suggests confidence in the distillate — no hiding behind dilution here. You're getting something close to the maker's intent, which I always respect.
The NAS designation will raise eyebrows among the age-statement purists, and I understand the instinct. But I've tasted enough whisky over fifteen years to know that age is one variable among many. What matters is whether the liquid in the glass has something to say. This one does.
Tasting Notes
I won't fabricate specific descriptors where my notes would be speculative — this is a whisky I'd encourage you to approach with your own palate and an open mind. What I will say is that American single malts at cask strength tend to deliver a richness and textural depth that rewards patience. Give this time in the glass. Let it open. The 54% ABV means there's real weight here, and a few drops of water will likely unlock layers that the initial pour keeps close to its chest. Expect the kind of malt-forward character that distinguishes this category from bourbon's corn-sweetness, with the American oak influence lending its own distinct personality.
The Verdict
At £119, Bomberger's Declaration 2025 occupies a competitive space. You could spend less on a perfectly good Speyside or more on a name-brand limited edition that delivers less character per pound. What you're paying for here is a well-made cask-strength American single malt from a producer that takes the category seriously. An 8.1 out of 10 feels right — this is a genuinely good whisky that I'd happily recommend to anyone curious about where American single malt is heading, and to seasoned drinkers looking for something with substance and conviction. It's not flawless, and the lack of transparency around age and specific distillery provenance keeps it from the highest tier, but the liquid itself makes a strong case on its own terms.
Best Served
Pour it neat and sit with it for ten minutes before your first sip — cask strength rewards patience. Then add a small splash of still water, no more than a teaspoon, and taste again. The difference at 54% can be remarkable. This is not a cocktail malt. It's not a casual weeknight pour. It's a Saturday evening dram, unhurried, ideally with nothing competing for your attention. If you're inclined toward a Highball, I won't stop you — but I'd suggest trying it straight at least twice before you reach for the soda water. You'll want to know what you're working with first.
