Lagavulin 16, 2014 Release

Lagavulin 16, 2014
I’ve reviewed the Lagavulin 16 before. That was from a bottle released in 2012. As I’m constantly annoying people with my skepticism about narratives of decline, when the opportunity came to review a more recent issue, I couldn’t turn it down. As it happens, this sample is from the legendary merchant of doom, Michael K., and so we can at least argue about the exact same whisky if we happen to disagree. I’m not sure, actually, if he’s already reviewed this one—but I’m going to avoid looking so as to not contaminate my own take. I am also going to avoid looking at my previous set of notes till I’ve finished the review. It may well turn out that I produce a near identical description. If so, I’ll post this anyway. You’re welcome!

(If this sort of thing interests you, you may also want to see my head-to-head notes on two Ardbeg Uigeadails from different years.) Continue reading

Lagavulin 12 CS (2013)

Lagavulin 12, 2013

Let’s stick with Lagavulin but let’s take the exclusivity factor down a notch or two. Unlike the Feis Ile bottles, the Lagavulin 12 CS is not exactly hard to find—there are more than 31,000 bottles of the 2014 release.

I’ve previously reviewed the 2009, 2010, 2011 and 2012 editions of the Lagavulin 12. As I’ve noted before, along with the Caol Ila Unpeated, the Lagavulin 12 is one of the few value propositions in Diageo’s annual slate of special releases. For some reason it’s not an universally loved expression but I’m yet to taste one that I did not like a lot. I’ve managed to get a bottle every year since I came to know of it (2009) and hope to get my hands on the 2014 release as well (I’m not sure if it’s in the US yet). I do have a bottle of this one too but as I’m trying to keep my number of open bottles under control I asked my friend Patrick for some from his recently opened bottle when we last exchanged samples. Continue reading

Lagavulin 17, 1995 for Feis Ile 2013

Lagavulin 17, 1995, Feis Ile 2013

No, I didn’t go to Feis Ile 2013, and no, I didn’t buy a bottle at auction. This sample comes to me from my friend Rich who acquired a bottle somewhat complicatedly. It was purchased at Feis Ile by one person, passed on to another who lives in Canada, who then brought it down to other parts of the US from where it eventually made its way to Minnesota. All I had to do was go to a tasting in St. Paul last month featuring sherried malts and wheedle Rich into sharing a sample of it (it was one of the featured malts at the tasting and I knew I wanted to review it at leisure for the blog as well).

Feis Ile (in case you don’t know, this is the annual, week-long, festival of Islay distilleries) is something I’ve always wanted to attend, but the reports of queues of hundreds of people trying to get into every distillery are off-putting. I’m not a big fan of crowds. Still, if ever I go to a whisky festival it will be this one. The festival bottles are always very tantalizing, especially as only a small number of the distilleries make any of those available more generally. And the Lagavulin bottles are always the ones I crave the most. Quite apart from anything else, they’re sold at very reasonable prices. This one, for example, was about £100. That might seem a lot, and it is in the abstract, but full-term sherried Lagavulin is not easy to come by and when you look at the price asked for the most recent edition of the Lagavulin 21 it does seem like a very reasonable price. Say what you will about Diageo, at least they’re not gouging the faithful who’re willing to make it out to Islay in May.  Continue reading

Lagavulin 16, 2012 Release

Lagavulin 16
A true classic, the Lagavulin 16 was the first bottle of whisky I spent more than $50 on. And after my first sip I was so utterly disappointed I’d thrown my money away on a whisky that smelled and tasted as nasty as it did: a rotting, mossy tree trunk with a nasty tonic from my childhood thrown on it—that’s what I remember thinking after my first sip and sniff. How I’ve changed in a decade. Whether Lagavulin 16 has or not is a more controversial matter. There are those who insist it has and not for the good—it’s always hard for me to extricate this sort of a judgement from a more general expression of belief in whisky entropy (“everything changes for the worse”); on the other hand, there are those who say it has maintained its quality and general profile over time. I am in the latter camp but I grant that I have not tasted a Lagavulin 16 bottled since 2008 or so. Well, this bottle—which belonged to a good friend who left the country and also left some bottles for a couple of us to split—is from 2012. Continue reading

Lagavulin 12 CS (2012)

Lagavulin 12, 2012

This is the last in my long, drawn-out vertical of Lagavulin 12 releases from 2009 to 2012. At the tasting with friends back in September when we actually drank all four head-to-head-to-head-to-head the group was unanimous that this was the one that was a bit of an outlier as the peat seemed a little “dirtier” or farmier. Let’s see if that holds up two months later or if that note seems less pronounced when the whisky is tasted by its lonesome.

Lagavulin 12 CS, 2012 (56.1%; from my own bottle)

Nose: Nope, this is still farmy. Iodine, kelp and lots of lemon. And lots of briny green notes too: olive brine, rotting kelp. Gets rather salty very quickly. A touch of creamy vanilla too with time but you have to work to find it. With a lot more time the farmy note dissipates somewhat and now there’s a distinct cereally character, with the lemon-olive thing right below it. With a few drops of water the creamy vanilla expands and there’s a bit of a smoky lemon curd thing going on. Continue reading

Lagavulin 12 CS (2011)

Lagavulin 12, 2011Part three of my Lagavulin 12 CS series brings me to the 2011 release (see here for the 2009 and here for the 2010).

Lagavulin 12 CS, 2011 Release (57.5%; from my own bottle)

Nose: Very close to the 2010, with lemon, cereally peat and whiffs of gasoline leading the way. Deep inky sweetness below that–iodine and mercurochrome and gauze bandages. Some fruit too–grapefruit? melon?–and sharp, acidic smoke. With more time there’s a leafy, humusy quality and some green olive brine too. The lemon turns to lemon peel and gets more intense; some almond oil too. The cereal never goes away though. Water pushes the lemon back and there’s more of a straight ahead medicinal peat blast now.

Palate: Acrid smoke and lemon do battle, and battle to a draw. Salt after that and then more lemon and then the inky sweetness. More aggressive than the 2010 at full strength. With time the smoke is not as aggressive on initial entry and the (bitter) lemon becomes the top note and the medicinal notes (bandages, iodine) arrive much earlier. Much more phenolic now. Water makes the palate brighter and a bit sweeter–still very phenolic though and the smoke expands again. Continue reading

Lagavulin 12 CS (2010)

Lagavulin 12 CS, 2010This is the second entry in my ongoing, slow-motion Lagavulin 12 vertical. The first is here. Let’s get right to it.

Lagavulin 12 CS, 2010 Release (56.5%; from my own bottle)

Nose: Cereally, lemony peat. But beneath the soft cereal note there lurks a pungent, iodiney (iodinesque? iodinysian?) beast that is waiting to punch you in the nose if you get said organ too close to it. And this beast has been chomping on some rotting kelp. After a few more minutes though the beast calms down (I really regret starting on this metaphor, can we agree to abruptly let it go now?) and there’s a very nice deep, organic sweetness that emerges (“organic” as in sweet, rotting organic material) but it’s accompanied by salt crystals. With more time, the lemon, the organic sweetness and the salt are in perfect balance and there’s also strong whiffs of gasoline. It gets sharper with time and there’s more aromas of bandages etc. in an old-timey doctor’s office. I realize I haven’t actually mentioned smoke, but there you are. Gets sweeter again much later and there’s some vanilla fighting its way out too now. With water the lemon intensifies and turns to citronella. Continue reading

Lagavulin 12 CS (2009)

Lagavulin 12, 2009
If I ever have grandchildren the day will come when I will dandle them on my knee and tell them of a time when Astor Wines in NYC was selling this whisky for $49.99. Grandpa’s senile, they’ll say, and then run away shrieking as I try to bayonet them with Bessie, my trusted Civil War musket. I’m sorry, where was I? Right, the Lagavulin 12. This is the 2009 edition of the annual release of 12 yo cask strength Lagavulin (the first release was in 2002 as per Malt Madness). Unlike the more easily found 16 yo the 12 yo, I believe, is from all ex-American oak casks—then again, I don’t know why I believe this as I suddenly cannot find any definitive reference to this online. Less controversial, of course, is that it is always at a much higher strength than the regular 16 yo and the double matured Distiller’s Edition, which are both at 43%. Continue reading

Lagavulin 21, Old and New

Lagavulin 21Today I review a whisky I never thought I would get a chance to taste: the already legendary first release of the Lagavulin 21. And if that weren’t enough I chase it with a briefer review (and smaller sample) of the second release of the Lagavulin 21. The first bottle is long gone from general circulation. I think it cost $300 on original release in the US. That was too rich for my blood at the time (though I didn’t even know about it then); still is, but not unthinkable for a special bottle. Now, of course, it’s going for 3-4x that price if you can find it. Why all the fuss? Well, partly because there are so few official Lagavulin releases (and even fewer named indies) and partly because there are very, very few that are solely matured in European oak ex-sherry casks; but mostly because it was acclaimed upon release as one of the great malts of the contemporary era, garnering scores from the likes of Serge Valentin that are normally reserved for Bowmores and Springbanks from the 1960s and Broras from the early 1970s. Continue reading

Lagavulin 1993, The Distillers Edition

Lagavulin Distiller's Edition, 1993-2009Diageo now release Distillers Editions of whiskies from a number of their distilleries (the series began with the six distilleries originally designated as their “Classic Malts”). These involve a secondary (and relatively brief) maturation of the entry-level malt from each distillery in a sherry/wine cask of some kind. I have not tried them all–far from it–but am not a fan of most that I have tried. In particular, the Distillers Editions of Talisker, Clynelish and Caol Ila (some of my favourite distilleries) seem to me to blunt their essential characteristics and the “finish” does not seem to me to always be as harmoniously integrated as it could be with the underlying malt. The only one that I like a lot, and have bought more than one iteration of, is the Lagavulin Distillers Edition, which is finished in casks that previously housed sticky Pedro Ximinez sherry. It’s fairly pricey in the US and so it’s not one that I drink down very fast or replace immediately when done. But as I have a new bottle freshly arrived, I am raiding my large reference sample from my previous bottle of the 1993-2009 edition. Continue reading

Lagavulin, Lg1 (Speciality Drinks)

A Lagavulin from Speciality Drinks, who are part of the Whisky Exchange empire. This is from their Elements of Islay series–which feature one of the more idiosyncratically attractive (and clever) bottle/label designs that I’ve seen. More importantly all the whiskies that I’ve tasted from this series have been very good and some have been excellent–which is nice, as they’re quite expensive (these are 500 ml bottles). And this whisky, and its sibling the Lg2 (which I will review tomorrow), are extra special because indie Lagavulins are about as easy to find as reasonable assertions in the collected works of Ann Coulter.
Continue reading