This was too much tea, too mellow, too bitter— it just did not come together.  It was an interesting dram, but not worth the price of admission.  This is just one of those casks that I hope someone loves, but I am left with the impression that it probably belonged in a blend.  It needed something else to balance against.  I enjoyed the antique notes that came through, so perhaps some old peat could have helped accentuate the curio cabinet or the antique shop nature of the dram.

The flavors were not all bad, but on the whole they just feel a bit washed out and the bitter notes a bit too prevalent.  This is so adjacent to being good that it was not a D that could be a C, it was a D that could have been a B if things had just turned out a little bit different.

This Allt-a-Bhainne showed remarkable complexity for just 7 years.  Its flavors were distinct and well rounded, it drank incredibly smoothly without a drop of water— to the point that I almost forget each time I tasted it to add a few drops and see what happened.  It has lovely layers of rotting vegetation, herbs, algae, and maybe a bit of mold.  It is not quite the funk level that Bruichladdich achieves with some Port Charlottes, but it is in the same ballpark and therefore right up my alley. 

This does not drink like it is just five years old, aside from a bit of heat on the palate that comes at the beginning with the spices, the finish is the only place where the dram gives the impression of spirited youth.  This is a lovely complex Caol Ila, probably a second or refill sherry cask, the flavors of peat, malt, and cask balance against one another so well.  

There have been a number of drams who have had the effect of transporting me back to the Autumns of my youth.  None has quite taken me back to the week of Halloween so specifically. There are all sorts of lovely nostalgic Fall notes that come through, from the chopped vegetables to the baking spices to the wispy smoke.  I found the palate on this one to be absolutely enchanting and while the palate did not quite have the same defined flavor notes or distinctiveness, it was still harmonious. 

If you have scented markers still, go smell that brown one, and you will have a good idea what this dram is all about.  It is a bit sweet, a bit cinnamon, a bit spice— it is brown.  Brown like a tree, brown like coffee, brown like chocolate, and brown like soil.  If you did not have the fortune to be sniffing scented markers as a child, I feel for you.  I truly do.  Accidentally marking your nose because you got a bit too close to the marker is an important childhood event.

The beautiful layers of malty sweetness and savory peat combine absolutely brilliantly with just a bit of wood spice and sweetness from the Ex-Bourbon cask.  I think some drinkers get absolutely carried away with searching out interesting cask maturations or finishes— and why not, it is fun— but there is a lot to love in a great ex-bourbon cask.  I would hate to think anyone skipped over this bottle thinking the ex-bourbon maturation was a bit plain-jane.  I would hate to think I might do that as well, because I would have missed out on quite the treat.

Lovely viscous body carries waves of vanilla and orange.  It has a malty sweetness with a bit of salt, a bit of ginger, and a bit of holiday cinnamon.  After the sweets on the nose, the body feels remarkably restrained.  Floral notes of rich honey come toward the end.  Another taster put it succinctly, the profile is very “Glenmorangie-y.”

This is everything that I wanted from Ardbeg’s 2019 Drum Committee Release.  It has the lovely bits of tropical fruit, beautifully rich peat notes, and Bruichladdich’s savory barnyard funk to tie it all together.

A butterscotch bomb on the nose, a lemon on the body.  This has to be one of the most disjointed drams I have ever tried.  The nose was amazingly thick and sticky with rich notes… but what happened to the body?  If I blindly smelled this dram and then took a sip, I would think someone had swapped out my glass.

A blend of salty succulent malts, Rock Oyster is easily my favorite in Douglas Laing’s Regional Malts series, and this bottle in particular is probably my favorite >$100 blended malt.  I love the salt, citrus, cream, and faint smoke or char on this.

This was remarkably easy to drink for a dram that packed a real punch.  This was full of malty youthful intensity— it was high heat and intense flavors.  Even before adding a bit of water there was wonderful complexity in spite of the youth.  A few drops tamped down some of the fire and heat and brought out more of the luscious chocolatey oloroso notes.

This would be fun to taste along with the Nikka Coffey Malt, Coffey Grain, and Miyagikyo Single Malt.  So many possible variations from just the one Nikka Distillery at Miyagikyo, a great opportunity to explore the ways in which malt and grain can play together.

Two radically different profiles clash a bit in this bottle— sweet creamy tropical fruits and bitter medicinal herbs.  Occasionally these two faces combined to give the impression of Ricola or another honey herbal cough drop.  The cask seems to be pulling the dram in both directions at once— emphasizing bitter burnt herbs as well as creamy vanilla.

So cheers.  This bottle might not quite be worth the price of admission in my book, but it is the best Bushmills I have ever had by quite some margin.  It has been a joy to sip on during the hot late summer evenings— it has a lovely refreshing quality from the lemony acidity and slight astringency.  I could see someone who really enjoys sweeter Highlands or maybe Lowland triple distilled malts finding this to be quite excellent and probably deciding my grade was way off.

Most of the herbal oomph came on the palate rather than the nose.  The aroma of the dram was balanced between variations on smoke and the promise of savory barbecue and the herbal notes that complimented the fatty meat notes.  The palate offered more of the medicinal side of the dram from which SMWS plucked the code name.  A participant in the tasting proffered that the dram reminded them of ‘dirty bong water’ and the table concurred.  So it was burnt herbs— but maybe not the herb we expected.

This was weird and really unlike any of the other Chichibu I have tried.  I was told that the nose was a bit strange but that the actual body was quite tasty.  I am not sure I agree.  This is one of those drams whose flavor profile was just too wacky for me to really relax with— but weird enough that I could see myself one day craving to try again.