A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

Dalwhinnie Triple Matured - Friends of Classic Malts - 48%

It's Dalwhinnie, Jim........

A few years ago, back at the start of my whisky journey, my boss bought me a bottle of Dalwhinnie 15 as a leaving present. More than likely it was on offer at the local supermarket and she grabbed it on her way to the checkout. I remember politely thanking her, all the while thinking "Dalwhinnie? Sounds like a rip-off of Balvenie." Yup, if I could go back in time I'd slap me too.

I don't remember much about that bottle, save for the fact that I thoroughly enjoyed it. A year or so later, I managed to grab a bottle of the Distiller's Edition as a birthday present for Agent X (he's a real person, allegedly). I don't remember much about that bottle either, although I know he poured me a glass and I know I thoroughly enjoyed it. Later on that year at TWE's Whisky Show, I got to try the 1987 25yo. I don't remember much about....meh, you get my point. Dalwhinnie, to me at least, is the Rohypnol of the whisky world (Diageo - you can have that for your next ad campaign). So when I heard that it was being added to the triple matured FoCM releases, I told myself enough was enough; time to get a bottle for myself.

Nose:

Like the school tuck shop on a summer morning. A whole host of fizzy sweets flood the senses, mixed in with dew-drenched flowers and cut grass. Underneath it all there's a rich maltiness with the occasional threat of spice coming to the fore. Nothing is really taking centre stage here; it's all so complex and well-balanced.

Palate:

Drier and spicier than you'd expect. The sweet, heather-honey of the standard 15yo is present but there's a rich, almost savoury spiciness that dominates and challenges the taste buds. A small slug of water dials down the spice and boosts the honeyed sweetness. Beautifully layered and balanced now. 

Finish:

Sweet and drying in turns. A good hit of spice and a solid length. Malty and, dare I say it, a touch of bitter smoke in the dying seconds. 

Thoughts:

This is a big, ballsy, grown-up Dalwhinnie, closer in nature to the 25yo than the 15. Wonderfully balanced on the nose but really benefits from a teaspoon of water to get the palate going. If I was being really picky, I'd say a tad too sweet on arrival and tad too spicy on the back end but that's about it. It's a very, very good whisky.

Grade: A

Though it just scrapes the top grade, this is definitely one to watch out for. Bold, beautiful and worth every penny.

My Old Dram's a Dustman....

Master of Malt 50yo Speyside - 4th Edition - 43%

One of these things is not like the other

The tree has gone, the halls have been un-decked and the fire is alarmingly devoid of roasting chestnuts. Long story short, if you can forgive the syllepsis, it's January and depressing. In an attempt to cling on to the last remnants of festive cheer, I rummaged through the sample collection, looking for a well-aged fruitcake gem to give my palate one last blast of Christmas.

Some time ago I sampled the Master of Malt 40yo Speyside, a whisky that exhibited one of the finest 'Christmas pudding' noses I've ever experienced. So much so, in fact, that I seriously considered buying one despite the (comparatively) less than stellar palate. I never did, however, for the reason stated in my last review, although it's well worth a look. Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, the sample collection. Sitting behind a plethora of glass jars, sporting the handwriting of a galaxy of whisky-blogging stars, was the older brother of the aforementioned Master of Malt dram, the 50yo Speyside. If anything could banish the post-Christmas blues, this was it. Right?

Nose:

Sweet. Very sweet. Not Christmassy but a huge hit of caramel apple crumble followed by crystallised ginger and creme brulee. Overripe grapes, butterscotch and a hint of spiced cafe latte. As time passes, lightly polished wood appears.

Palate:

Hmm. This is not what I expected at all. This wears its age incredibly lightly. Fresh apples and pears; the kind of profile I'd usually associate with a young Glenburgie or Glen Grant. Given time, an underlying dusty sweetness comes through. The dustiness amplifies towards the finish, bringing a little balance to the orchard fruit carnival. This is joined by a whack of wood spice, which really is the only indication of the length of time the spirit has lain dormant. Very strange indeed.

Finish:

Cigar boxes, wisps of smoke and a hint of black pepper. A strange flash of crisp cider is followed by a long, dusty, drying final stretch.

Thoughts:

If you're expecting, as I was, a rich, nutty sherried dram, you're going to be disappointed. This is closer in nature to a young, well-constructed, fruity Speysider, albeit with a woody, dusty undercurrent.

Grade: B

The nose should come with a complementary insulin shot and the palate could do with a little less dust and a little more polish. Having said that, this is still a good whisky, just not a great one. Additionally, it's done nothing for my January blues. Where did I put that Glenfarclas? 

A Shot in the Park

Highland Park 30yo - 48.1%

 

What the hell

I, Johnnie Stumbler, am an old woman when it comes to buying whisky. Actually, that's not fair. I'm doing old women everywhere a disservice by lumping them into the same category as me. I'm truly awful. I will spend hours upon hours researching a particular bottle, reading the marketing blurb, the online vendor blurb and the blogger blurb and weighing up every other bottle available before actually making a purchase. It's why I never got a bottle of the Devil's Punchbowl or Devil's Cask and why my collection of Ardbeg is woeful; by the time I've convinced myself I want one, the bloody things have sold out.

 

You can imagine my surprise, therefore, when I found myself walking out of a well known Inverary whisky shop, giddy with excitement, clutching a 30yo bottle of Highland Park. As is often the case with pricy impulse buys, the excitement soon fades and concern pops up in its place. Should I have done it? Was it worth the money? (Hugely debatable across the whisky world these days) Will it taste good?

 

Admittedly, as impulse buys go, you could do a lot worse than a Highland Park. The 21 and Dark Origins aside, I've found the core range to be of excellent quality and, until quite recently, reasonable value (the price of this bottling has gone up by £170 in 17 months). It's no secret that I consider the Highland Park 40 to be one of the finest whiskies I've ever tried. How does this one measure up?

Nose:

Wow! Wonderfully rich. Sherry all over with freshly-polished wood, chocolate orange and wisps of smoke. Time to breathe brings marzipan, black cherries, sea spray and a whiff of dry peat.

Palate:

A little tart at first with the wood tannins taking centre-stage. Once the mouth acclimatises, the richness comes through with Morello cherries, stewed plums. beeswax and a decent whack of salt. A little time gives dark chocolate, a flash of peat and more wood to complete the picture.

Finish:

Textbook Highland Park. Long and drying with a smoky, salty finale. Mouthwatering and moreish.

Thoughts: 

A multi-layered sherry bomb. Superb structure, engineered delivery and exhibits the level of balance for which Highland Park is famous. It doesn't quite reach the dizzying heights of the 40yo but very few whiskies do.

Grade: A

Eye-wateringly expensive these days, taking it firmly out of the realms of impulse, but a taste sensation nonetheless. When these guys get it right, they get it very right.

... sprung from my only hate.

Brora Batch 2 - That Boutique-y Whisky Company - 52.1%

Just close your eyes and think of Scotland

December the 24th rolls around and I open the final door of my whisky advent calendar to find a Brora. The only word that comes to mind is 'Jackpot'. I note with some amusement, however, that this particular Brora is part of the Boutique-y Whisky Company range of releases.

For those of you yet to read my first whisky review, I love Brora. Love it. I love Clynelish too. There's something about the waxy, smoky, soapy, maritime, citrussy goodness that enchants me. What you probably don't know is that TBWC releases irk me. It's not the whisky inside, you understand, but the way in which it's presented. Here we have (otherwise good) whisky sold in 500ml bottles, without an age statement, with gaudy (or should that be gaud-y) labels and, dare I say it, overpriced to boot. It's the 'anti-SMWS', if you will.

There's something a little Romeo & Juliet about this review. Not in the underage sex, killing spree or double-suicide sense, rather discovering something enchanting and then finding out it stems from something to which you are morally opposed. I bite my thumb, sir.

Nose:

A small alcohol prickle is followed by everything that is good about Brora. Waxy lemons and honey-roasted almonds to start with a wave of candied peel, polished oak and sea spray. A hint of smoke and the merest suggestion of soap towards the back end. 

Palate:

A huge hit of acacia honey followed by beeswax and chilli flakes. This is a little hotter than expected but soon dies down into delicate floral soapiness with a maritime bite.

Finish:

Long and warming with plenty of oak, spice and a hint of smoked salt. 

Thoughts: 

I wanted to hate this. I wanted to say that it's second-rate, hyped-up dross. I can't though; its bloody beautiful. 

Grade: A

Going on the whisky alone, it easily gets the top grade. A word of warning though; scaled up to 700ml, it's hugely overpriced when compared to other independent, and even some OB, Brora bottlings and the lack of age statement disturbs me. Brora and TBWC - a plague on both your houses.

Red, Red Whine

BenRiach 1977 - 34yo Rioja Barrel #2588 - 44.1%

Apply Bonjela liberally

Wine finishes, eh? To some, they're a portent of doom; a sign of the shortage of quality sherry casks out there. To others, they're a revelation; taking whisky into a brave new era. Whatever your feelings, let's face it, they're like ulcers. A lot of them are red and, eventually, you're going to find one in your mouth.

You may be wondering, given my evident distaste for them, how I happened upon this particular one. Was I lured in by the intriguing packaging? Did my fierce love of BenRiach temporarily cloud my judgement? No. Put simply, and I must stress this is where the ulcer simile ends, my wife gave it to me.

Nose:

Big, big nose on this. The wine influence is immediately noticeable with rich vine fruits, noble rot, grape must and a hint of sweet balsamic vinegar. Once you've fought your way through the vineyard, you are rewarded with wood varnish, cafe latte and mild spearmint. The third act brings fragrant peppercorns and a hint of clove. Hugely enjoyable.

Palate:

Massive red wine hit with tannins coming from the wood, although there's a bitterness reminiscent of grape skins. Spicy and stern with a gentle sweetness nearing the finish. The quality of the malt is evident but it struggles to shine when faced with the brashness of the Rioja influence. 

Finish:

Like Pinocchio having impure thoughts, it's long, woody and not particularly pleasant.

Thoughts: 

The nose beats the palate by a country mile. The woody, savoury, bitter-sweet flavours just don't hold up to the rich sweetness the nose projects. This is the perfect example of a quality malt that has been overaged and finished to its detriment. Shame. 

Grade: B

Good, but could have been so much better if bottled sooner.

Johnnie Does Lagavulin

Thursday 21 August 2014 - 9:30am

Price: £24.00

Proof that sundials work on Islay

Lagavulin 16 was the first peated whisky I ever got my taste buds around. I can recall the experience with absolute clarity and dare say I'll still remember it on my death bed. It was in a garish Luton casino on a night that was supposed to be Agent X's stag-do; he'd had a change of heart following a recent assassination attempt, although that's probably a story for another time.

I remember Cecil coming back from the bar with three glasses of what we called La-GA-vulin back in those innocent, halcyon days; with knowledge comes cynicism, it would seem. He has since told me that the woman behind the bar had to check with the manager before serving him as she wasn't sure if she was allowed to serve whisky without a mixer. Yup, it's a classy establishment folks, but I digress.

The first sip had barely touched my lips and I knew that this was the drink for me. Smoke, flavour, structure and a wonderful finish; I was hooked. Agent X screwed his face up and looked like someone had just kicked his dog and I don't know what was going through Cecil's mind but he didn't touch peated whisky for well over a year after that (he loves it now, for the record). To say I was excited to visit the distillery would be the biggest understatement since Oates' line before popping outside for a smoke.

No pipe and slippers?

Naturally, my excitement meant that despite the alarmingly early start time of 9:30am, we found ourselves at the distillery a good fifteen minutes before that. We were escorted into a reassuringly traditional lounge area, complete with peat burner and wingback chairs. Following the soulless sterility of yesterday's Caol Ila visit, this was just the ticket. Over by the window sat a few bottles and glasses, from which visitors are invited to pour a dram or two while they wait. Had this been an afternoon visit, I may well have made use of the opportunity, however I have a rule about drinking before breakfast on holiday and, once or twice, I've even kept to it.

The Tour

We were greeted warmly by our tour guide, Rachel, and escorted to the old kiln. As it happened, we were the only ones taking this tour, leading Rachel to ask us a few questions about prior knowledge so that she could skip over the kind of things we already knew and concentrate on some of the more obscure stuff. This meant that rather than feeling we were being talked at by someone just reeling off lines from a script, we had our own customised tour; a lovely touch.

Those of you who had the misfortune to be subjected to my Caol Ila rant will know that Diageo distilleries will not allow you to take photos. Rachel made this very clear from the outset, although almost apologetically. I dutifully tucked my phone away and pulled out my notepad.

No pictures allowed, so here's an idiot in a bunnet

Lagavulin, like many distilleries, uses a mixture of Optic and Concertina barely. Also, again like many distilleries, it sports a Porteus mill, this one from 1963. Porteus mills, so we were told, are so high-quality and low-maintenance that the company went out of business. The barley itself is brought in from the Port Ellen maltings, where it has been peated to 36ppm, and tastes startlingly similar to Lapsang Souchong tea when chewed.

The mash tun is made from stainless steel and is relatively new when compared to other distilleries. It takes in 4.4 tons of barley at a time and does this four times a day. Lagavulin houses 10 washbacks, although instead of Oregon Pine, these are made from American Larchwood and were installed in the 1930's. A quick taste of the wash reveals another hit of Lapsang smokiness but with the fruitiness you'd find at Laphroaig.

The still house contains four stills; two onion-shaped wash stills and two pear-shaped spirit stills. These were taken from the now defunct Malt Mill distillery (pretty sure I've got a bottle of that somewhere, ahem) and are used to distil the wash/low wines slowly, leading to a richer heavier spirit. Six distilleries in and I'm slowly getting to grips with this process, although I'm still convinced the occult has something to do with it. Before we knew what's what, the tour was over. Rachel led us over to the warehouse and bid us a fond farewell. This was where some chap called Iain McArthur was going to let us have a crack at a few of his casks. Apparently, he's worked at Lagavulin for quite a while.......

The Tasting

Iain shows us his wood

After being ushered into the warehouse and adjusting to the dim conditions, we could clearly make out that we were far from being the only ones attending this part of the experience. The room was packed with at least a dozen fellow whisky fans who had decided to forego the tour and jump straight to the tasting; that's bloody cheating, in my book.

To kick things off, we were handed a glass of new make spirit. After a little taste one of the group asked Iain the strength of the spirit. He took the opportunity to single us out as for the answer as we had just done the tour and, naturally, I got it wrong. In my defence, I gave the strength at which the casks were filled, but felt like a bit of a tit nonetheless. 

He proceeded to show us how whisky behaves at different strengths, gave us a bit of background on cask management, wood interaction and then promptly popped open the first in a long, looooong line of casks.

Iain McArthur: He gives good measures

After pouring the first sample, Iain gave us a few details about what we were trying, namely the strength, year and type of cask. I asked Iain if he could furnish me with the cask number and he afforded me a strange look. "In all my years doing this, nobody has ever asked me the cask number", he replied, although he kindly checked the cask over and read it out to me. This led to a nice American couple sat next to us leaning over and whispering "Why do you want the cask number?" Mrs S, well practised in fending off queries about my odd behaviour, launched into an explanation about lists of whiskies tried, reviews and blogs, etc. but the glazed eyes of the once-intrigued couple told me that all they understood was "total dork".  

The older, the better. Right?

The next hour or so was a blur of different barrels being popped open, valinches, drams and sarcastic comments about cask numbers from Iain. We went from 2004 through 1998, '93, and '82 and all the while I had my eye on one particular cask. This cask was so old and mouldy, the original markings had faded and a piece of paper had been used to preserve its details. This is, we were told, the oldest cask in the warehouse; the 1966 - cask 552, an ex-Johnnie Walker refill cask. Iain refused to tell us the strength of the liquid inside, suffice to say it was at least the minimum 40% required by law to be considered whisky. 

Let's just have a think about this for a moment. Last year, Diageo released a 37yo special release bottling of Lagavulin with a RRP of £1950. Here we have a cask of 47-48yo Lagavulin. I had no idea whether Iain was going to pop this one open and let us have a try but all the while he was getting closer and closer. Then he opened it and poured us all a dram. This was it, this was the pinnacle. It was insanely old, it was unbelievably rare....

....and it was painfully average.

During this series of distillery reviews, I've saved you the annoyance of tasting notes. This is mainly because I was having far too much fun tasting to write anything down, but also because a lot of the drams are cask samples that you'll only get at the distillery. Even then, the samples I got to try may not be the same you've tried/will get to try when you go.

I will, however, make one observation. Having tried the cask samples ranging from 10-48 years old, in my opinion, Lagavulin peaks between 16 and 21 years old. After that, although good whisky, you tend to lose that signature Lagavulin flavour. This isn't uncommon with peated whiskies. Some people will say that 18 and 25 year old Talisker is incredible; I personally think that by the time it hits 18, it has lost most of the spark and zip that makes Talisker, well, Talisker. I can still honestly say, hand on heart, that trying a Lagavulin of this age is a once in a lifetime opportunity and an incredible privilege. You should do it, if you get the opportunity.

Until we meet again......

After a quick trip to the distillery shop to stock up on liquid gold, we bade farewell to Lagavulin and started on the road to Bruichladdich. Mrs S spent the majority of the journey attempting to explain the reasons behind her evident dislike of 'that warehouse man'. 

"He's brash, cantankerous and arrogant.", she remarked. 

Pretty much three reasons why I took an instant liking to the fellow. I've also heard (from an 'anonymous' guide at another distillery) that he's quite the dancer when he's had a few.

To be continued..............

Ratings

The Tour: B+

Again, a Diageo distillery so not being able to take photos was a bit of a drag. Despite it being 9:30 in the morning, Rachel was warm and welcoming. As there were only the two of us on the tour, she gauged our level of prior knowledge and pitched her spiel at the perfect level. She encouraged us to ask questions and didn't miss a step when faced with some of the more obscure/geeky questions. Fair play. 

The Drams: A

Lagavulin 2004 Warehouse Cask #7746 58%

Lagavulin 1998 Warehouse Cask #1712 52.4%
Lagavulin 1993 Warehouse Cask #4504 50%
Lagavulin 1982 Warehouse Cask #681 48%%
Lagavulin 1966 Warehouse Cask #552 ??%
Lagavulin 2014 Friends Of Classic Malts Bottling 48%

PLUS a free Glencairn glass.

Six drams and a glass for £24 is serious bang for your buck by most standards but when you consider that five of those drams were pulled straight from the cask, it's even better. Add to that the chance to try some seriously rare whisky (47/48yo Lagavulin is unheard of) and you're looking at pure whisky gold.

The Shop: A

Surprisingly good, given the limited core range. Standard 16, Special Release 12 and DE were all on show, as were the distillery exclusive Feis Ile 2014 and Friends of Classic Malts releases. I vaguely recall seeing some of the older, insanely priced bottlings tucked away behind glass too, if that's your thing.

The shop also had a range of non-whisky items, including some rather fetching bunnets. All in all, it's decked out rather well.

Overall: A

Some people say Lagavulin is going through a dip in quality, others profess it to be the king of Islay whiskies. Whichever camp you fall in, if you like the Lagavulin style, it would be a crime to pass up a chance like this, for a price like this. Great staff, loads of whisky and a well appointed shop. Simply unmissable.

Old St. Andrews Tweet Tasting

Old St. Andrews - The Series

You can't miss an Old St. Andrews bottle; they stand out a mile on any whisky shelf. Strangely, however, I've managed to give them a complete swerve until now.

For me, whisky and golf have always gone hand in hand. I've spent many a winter's morning hacking and slashing away at flora and foliage like a demented samurai, fuelled purely by incandescent rage and a hip flask full of tartan tastiness. So, when those nice chaps at OSA whisky and The Whisky Wire asked me if I fancied putting (that's the last golf pun you'll get out of me) four of their drams through their paces, I jumped at the chance.

Samurai fuel

Clubhouse - 3yo Blend - 40%

Nose:

Richer than expected, given the stated age of 3 years, although with an unmistakeable whiff of youth. Fresh and lively to begin with but settles nicely into leather and beeswax after a time. Light wood, almonds, fudge and an aromatic spice that I can't quite pin down.

Palate:

Initially peppery but this fades, being replaced by a dry, malty citrus. A few more sips reveal a building smokiness; the spice has died away and has left a spirity, sweet note.

Thoughts:

Yup, this is young and a little spirity. It's also insanely approachable and very drinkable. If you're a fan of cask strength monsters and phenolic beasts, it's not going to rock your world on the flavour front, but for this price it's viable hip-flask fare for the demented samurai in your life.

Crap film, good whisky

Twilight - 10yo Blended Malt - 40%

Nose:

Light and grassy to kick off with a slight winey note. Bags of fruit and a little honey follow this up and there's also a substantial, although not overpowering, floral element. A little longer and coconut creeps in, dragging lemongrass and fudge with it.

Palate:

Fresh, Speyside profile to start but a little stern approaching the finish. I'm put in mind of a young Glenburgie, initially. A few sips in and the stern note is more pronounced; puts me in mind of lemon rind and pine.

Thoughts:

It's zippy, fresh and interesting; very much a 'session-starter' There's always room for something like this in the Stumblevault.

Wingback chair not included

Fireside - 12yo Blended Malt - 40%

Nose:

This is a deeper, richer number with waxy, treacly aromas with a fair whiff of peat. A little patience brings roasted nuts, marzipan and baked meringue, quite sweet as is develops. A little more time gives smoky lemons and sets my Caol Ila spidey senses tingling.

Palate:

Doesn't deliver the instant peat hit I'd expected from the nose, but a waxiness that I'd normally associate with good Clynelish. No sooner have I thought that, the peat makes an appearance. Sour cherries, honeycomb, a little lemon and some winter spices. Approaching the finish there's some mildly bitter walnut.

Thoughts:

It's aptly named and delivers many layers of flavour. A middle order batsman, if you'll forgive my mixing sports. The smoke, the waxiness, the rich fruits; it's all very well constructed and this hits all the right notes for me.  Attractively priced too. I'd definitely buy a bottle of this.

Keeps more than your head warm

Nightcap - 15yo Blended Malt - 40%

Nose:

A sweet bourbony nose with honey all over the shop. A few swirls release oak, smoke and a faint aroma of dill. A little time brings a cardamom-infused milk chocolate and the dill note evolves into cornichons. A little longer and the bourbony aromas seem to have died off leaving a sherry profile; wax, wood and nuts.

Palate:

A little austere to begin with but, after a while, appear wood, black pepper and vine fruits glistening with noble rot. Rich, sweet and waxy with a fair puff of smoke on the back end. This would be a very capable after-dinner dram.

Thoughts:

Very interesting, this one. Such a layered and changeable nose is always entertaining, although the palate doesn't quite reach the heights the nose offers. As the name suggests, you'd probably deploy this to finish your evening or after a big meal. Again, very attractively priced, especially when you consider its age.

Overall:

In an age of overpriced and overhyped releases, it's refreshing to see reasonably-priced whiskies are still available. It seems to me that Old St. Andrews has here a series of 'mood whiskies'; each one exhibits a different profile and, accordingly, each has their own occasion.

I hearth-ily recommend you buy a bottle

For me, the Fireside is the clear winner, with Nightcap, Twilight and Clubhouse coming home second, third and fourth respectively.

Sincere thanks to the team over at OSA Whisky, to Steve for orchestrating the whole thing and to my fellow tweet tasters. Always a pleasure.