Reviews of scotch and world whiskies by a history professor, his wife, bird, and three cats.
There is something intensely fun about drinking a whisky that predates oneself— it is almost like time traveling to a simpler time. No smart phones? No internet? No Starwars? No Starbucks? Well I suppose that last one is not entirely true, the first one opened in 1971, but it was hardly the coffee behemoth it is today.
What an absolute treat! I love the combination of pungent salt, oil, and tart citrus. When a Caol Ila comes together it borders on greatness. I adore all the elements in this glass and the finish was absolutely brilliant. I think the nose might have been the highpoint, it had so much complexity, so many strong mental images and memories associated with it.
I am not quite sure what to make of this. The salty notes gave a sharpness to the fruit notes that kept it from becoming a lovely syrupy tropical fruit, while the fruit notes remained dominant enough to keep this from becoming a truly maritime dram. This might be what Sponge-bob’s house tastes like— a rotted undersea pineapple.
I have no idea what it has to do with a St. Bernard or why a dog would own a whisky barrel. I am sure there is another meaning there, but I do enjoy the image of some large dogs running a distillery.
To say this exceeded expectations feels like an understatement. This was quite good— the bready/yeasty/pastry quality on it was as unexpected as it was interesting. Overall, the dram does sit on the lighter end of the spectrum, none of the flavors will punch you in the mouth. Yet, it has a good body and the quality of the flavor notes are just interesting enough to keep your attention. The dram is light enough to be quite refreshing and relaxing, especially with the citrus notes on the nose, without being so light that it totally disappears.
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.