This is the first Aultmore I’ve reviewed on the blog and it may, indeed, be the first Aultmore I’ve ever tried. I can’t recall another and nor can my spreadsheet. Always nice to taste the whisky of a distillery one has never tried before. Of course, there’s no guarantee that this is going to be representative of what they usually put out. Aultmore is in the Speyside and is part of Bacardi’s Scotch whisky holdings. The distillery was mostly known for producing for blends but a couple of years ago they suddenly starting releasing official single malts. Among their current regular releases are a 12 yo, an 18 yo and a 25 yo. I can’t recall how these have been received by the cognoscenti but if I like this one I might be motivated to seek at least the 12 yo out. In the meantime, I have absolutely no idea what Aultmore’s general profile is supposed to be like and so I am going into this with absolutely no preconceptions. Well, let’s get to it. Continue reading
Well, here’s my first whisky review after the apocalypse. A too quick return to business as usual, you might say; but returning to old routines, I’ve had other, more personal reasons to recently learn, is a good way to deal with potentially paralyzing news. Anyway, as I continue to process what this election means and how I should engage with my world in response to it, here’s one of a few reviews that were written in a more innocent time, when I dared believe Sam Wang’s projection of a >99% chance of a Clinton win. We can’t go forward in complacency or denial but we can’t give up on pleasure either. If we do that then Rudy Giuliani wins.
Clynelish 25, 1984 (48.9%; SMWSA 26.67; refill sherry butt; from a sample from a friend) Continue reading
This is the oldest sherried Clynelish I have yet happened upon, and as I think about it, it’s the oldest Clynelish of any kind I’ve yet happened upon (the previous oldest was this lovely 28 yo from 1982 bottled by Speciality Drinks in their Single Malts of Scotland line). Will it be as good as that one or only as good as the last SMWS Clynelish I reviewed (this solid but unexciting 23 yo)? Let’s get right to it and find out.
(Oh, the SMWS dubbed this one “Pomanders in a Lady’s Parlour”.)
Clynelish 29, 1984 (56%; SMWS 26.102; refill shery butt; from a bottle-split)
Nose: Honey and apple juice followed by a pleasant grassiness (not metallic or astringent) and then some wax accompanied by a minerally prickliness. The sherry influence is really restrained: just a bit of toffee and a mild raisiny sweetness. Gets more floral as it goes and there’s some dusty wood too now. With more time the fruit wakes up: lemon, hints of apricot. With a few drops of water it gets even more floral and sweet (with some cream too now). Continue reading
This is the oldest of the few Dailuaines I’ve had (only a few more than I’ve reviewed), being two years older than the Archives bottling I took quick notes on two and a half years ago (which was distilled a year before this one and also aged in a bourbon cask). The SMWS gives all their malts whimsical names and they dubbed this 30 yo, “Bitter-Sweet with a Dash of Fun”. Well, that’s also how I describe myself so this should be a perfect match. Will it also be one of those SMWS bottlings that makes me think I should become a member or will it be one of all too many that leave me unconvinced?
(As with the other SMWSA bottles I’ve reviewed in recent months, this came from a bottle split with a number of other whisky geeks. I’ve been doing a lot of bottle splits in the last year or so and I really recommend them as a way to taste a lot with minimized risk while also keeping the size of your collection in control.) Continue reading
The end of the year is a good time to do things for the first time. This is apparently my first Strathisla review. I could have sworn I’d already reviewed the official 12 yo but apparently not: I guess I finished my bottle before I started the blog. I should have a large reference sample stashed somewhere, however, so you can expect that review in the new year. In the meantime please excuse the obnoxious fact that my first review of a Strathisla is that of a 25 year old iteration.
Strathisla is one of those distilleries known for a somewhat unremarkable, young official release (the aforementioned 12 yo) and highly celebrated older whiskies from sherry casks. Most of these are independent releases and some of the most famous ones are Gordon & MacPhail’s licensed bottlings from the 1960s and early 1970s. I don’t have any of those lined up but next month I should have a review of the more easily found G&M Strathisla 25—the one without a vintage statement. This one is from the Scotch Malt Whisky Society and is from a refill bourbon barrel.
This is the first of three Laphroaig reviews this week. This one was bottled by the Scotch Malt Whisky Society of America and in age, strength and cask type is very close to the recently discontinued OB 18 yo. I think I am in a bit of a minority among whisky geeks in liking the OB 18 yo a lot, but if this is close to it then I’ll be happy, Of course, being a SMWS release means it cost almost twice as much as the OB 18 (in Minnesota anyway). I have to also say that my batting average with recent SMWSA releases has not been stellar: 85 points for a 23 yo Clynelish, 87 points for a 22 yo Highland Park, 87 points for a 13 yo Springbank—these are not poor scores by any stretch of the imagination but the mystique of the SMWS promises better, and they’re certainly not shy with the prices. Will this finally be the bottle that convinces me that I should sign up for a membership?
Oh yes, the SMWS called this one “A Ballerina at the Barbecue”. Continue reading
Let’s close out the week with another bottle from the Scotch Malt Whisky Society of America. As with the Highland Park 22 I reviewed to start the week, I split this bottle with a number of whisky geeks, though I got more of this than than I did of the other. I’ve not had very many Clynelishes over the age of 20 and so I could not resist. Will this be as good as the Malts of Scotland 22 yo from 1989 that I reviewed earlier in the year? I can only hope. Let’s get right to it.
Clynelish 23, 1990 (48.5%; SMWSA 26.99, “The Fisherman’s Friend”; refill barrel; from a bottle split with a number of whisky geeks)
Nose: Honey, lime zest, green apples, a hint of melon. A bit of wax after a minute or two and then it starts getting grassier. With more time the citrus gets sweeter (oranges now) and then the muskier fruity notes expand. With a lot more time there’s a bit of vanilla. With a few drops of water the citrus turns to citronella and it gets less grassy. More vanilla and cream too now. Continue reading
Highland Park, as I have noted on many occasions, is one of my very favourite distilleries. And as I have doubtless also noted on many occasions, bourbon cask Highland Parks—which are rarely available from the distillery—always catch my eye. They’re obviously very different from the distillery’s usual fare: as Highland Park matures its spirit predominantly in sherry casks, bourbon casks are rare from even the independents. Unsurprisingly, they’re also quite different from the standard profile. While I don’t myself believe that it it’s in bourbon cask matured malt that a distillery’s true profile/character is revealed (this is because I don’t believe in “distillery character” as something separate from maturation*), it is true that it is from bourbon casks that you can most clearly get a sense of the nature of Highland Park’s peat, in particular. And the continuities between bourbon cask Highland Park and malt from distilleries like Clynelish and Springbank that I also like very much indeed are interesting as well. Continue reading
After last Tuesday’s Port Ellen here is another sherried and peated Islay malt: a Laphroaig that is just two years older (though distilled a decade later). This is from the Single Malt Whisky Society and, like all their releases, bears a very silly name: “Below Decks on HMS Victory”. I assume they have a random phrase generator that they use to come up with these things and then run the results through a filter that makes them 85% sillier. Anyway, whatever the name, it will have to be good to live up to the last Laphroaig 20, 1990 I reviewed: that was this one from the Whisky Agency, albeit from a bourbon hogshead. Last week’s Port Ellen was not particularly sherried, but this one, as you can tell from the picture, promises to be quite intensely so, despite being from a refill butt. The marriage of peat and sherry is one of life’s great pleasures when it clicks, and here’s hoping it did here.
I’m not a member of the Single Malt Whisky Society. I can never quite convince myself that the membership price and cost of annual renewal is worth it—especially in the U.S where the society does not have tasting rooms where members can sample the whiskies before purchasing them. And while they put out a very broad range of whiskies it’s not as though the prices are reasonable either. Even rather young whiskies cost >$100 at the SMWS—though the prices do get more reasonable as the whiskies get older. You might say that this is true in general for independent bottlers but the floor at the SMWS is higher. And given how few reviews ever seem to emerge of these whiskies it’s not clear if the quality justifies the high prices. And, of course, you’ll find people in the UK lamenting a decline of quality control at the SMWS there, and others who’ll say that the US does not get the pick of the casks (which is not unlikely given our less mature market (compared to the UK and Europe). Continue reading