Tastes

Nose starts out a bit vegetal and vaguely musty. Repeat trips draw out a dry nutty smell, like opening a new tin of mixed nuts. With a lot of effort I can find malted vanilla powder and a hint of nutmeg. Interesting aromas, but lacking any sort of cohesion and almost jarringly disjointed. Palate is a bit better, and here the high malted barley recipe goes a long way to smoothing out the peaks and filling in the valleys. Vanilla and caramel and Demerara sugar open, and the palate has a nice heft to it. But all too quickly it turns hot and sharp, with cinnamon, clove, artificial cinnamon extract and just plain old ethanol completely removing any of the initial pleasant flavors. The barley shows up again in the finish, taming the heat so the sweet comes back a bit and closing dry, short and clean. Even at 50% ABV this drinks hotter than the standard 111 Cask at 55.5% ABV, and that has everything to do with the 111 being strictly their high malted barley mashbill. I dont know what two whiskys they used to represent the past and the future, but I don’t think I would like them on their own, just as I don’t particularily like this rendition of a limited annual release.

Nose is hard caramel candies and pencil shavings with just the faintest whiff of dried cherry. Nothing pops out, and each is very muted. Palate is prickly in the way that ryes can be when they seem like they’re maybe trying too hard…the flavors are there but they’re also everywhere, all at once. Nothing is cohesive. Vanilla/redhot/sage/pine needle/redhot/burnt brown sugar/cinnamon/nutmeg/redhot. Everything runs together, and no single flavor stands alone. Finish is exclusively hot, dry, cinnamon. I thought it was going to go deep for a second and throw out just a flash of cherry wood and barrel tannins, but nope, just more cinnamon. Maybe call it toasted cinnamon? It’s almost exhausting. I’d wager this would be a 4-star rye if it had just another year of aging. As it sits, it makes a decent Old Fashioned if you’re using a flavored syrup to fill in the gaps and tamp down the heat. Elderflower seems to work nicely, as does regular maple syrup. I don’t recommend it as a sipper. As much as I prefer high-proof whisky, the standard version will be my choice in the future.

Tried it in a restaurant before I bought a bottle and it was fantastic. Rich, creamy, mouth-coating, well balanced and bursting with flavors. Bottle 348 from batch 1026 that I brought home in Jan 2024 was none of those things when I opened it the following week. It was hot, bitter, dry, overly spicy and ridiculously woody. I considered dumping it and chalking up the loss, but it was an $80 bottle and that still matters to me. So I put it back in the cabinet and every few months I’d take a dram, only to again be disappointed. After 8 months, I finally thought it was ok enough that I added 2 oz to my infinity bottle (which has contributions from Very Old Bartons, Old Tub, and Evan Williams, amongst the other mid and top-shelf pours) hoping it probably wouldn’t ruin the whole thing. Tonight, I saw the bottle had worked its way back toward the front and with less than 4oz remaining, I decided it was time for a review. But this review wasn’t what I expected to write. I poured the glass and gave a swirl out of habit, only to notice the legs for the first time…they weren’t there before, I promise you. I also couldn’t smell it without putting my nose in the Glencairn. Previously, imprudent nosing would hurt worse than snorting horseradish. Now it presents brown sugar and caramel and pecan pie and black cherries and waxy honeycomb and blueberry compote. Dare I hope the palate would be similarly transformed by extended exposure to air? Having been burned so many times before, I did not hold out much hope. But I was wrong. This is actually (now) (finally) good. Legitimately good. It is rich, creamy, velvety-smooth, rolling up my tongue with sweet goodness and not a hint of heat. Caramel, apple pie, blackberry, cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamom, bing cherries and dried apricot dance across the palate from front to back. It is sweet, but doesn’t present to me as unbalanced despite the lack of tannins or alcohol astringency. A wonderful dessert drink. So why the middling score? Because I think an $80 bottle of bourbon should taste like this from the very first pour. The change is so dramatic that I can’t help but consider it a flaw in the product. It already had 10 years in the cask-it should not require an additional year of oxidation before it is palatable. I might still have it in a bar if the bottle is mostly empty, but I won’t be bringing another bottle home.

Nose is light peat, light plum and vanilla. Palate is very similar, but the vanilla leads and runs from start to finish, with brief bursts of cherry, fig, and raspberry jam leading to a close that is ever so slightly hot and finally has just a glimpse of Talisker black pepper. Overall an intersting and enjoyable drink. I think it complements the core series rather than exceeds as something special, but marketers are indeed paid to market.

Nose is grass, hay and wet campfire ashes. Not boring, but also not intriguing. Palate is slightly thin but mouth-coating, with the smoke leading and followed in short succession by wet straw, ash and barrel tanins. Finish is all campfire smoke, and lasts longer than the main taste. No discernible peat, iodine or salt…fairly flat and one-note. Not bad, but certainly not special, and there are far better offerings for less cash.

Nose is sweet cereal grains, Special K, Frosted Flakes, any artificial sweetener, some strawberry after a little time. No smoke on the nose. Palate is sweet and fruity, raspberry preserves on dry toast, strawberries and fig becomes dark chocolate covered cherries that linger for minutes before a clean, very slightly astringent, close. A very nice drink, and I’d be happy to have a bottle of this, presuming I hadn’t paid for it.

Nose is drier than batch 4, with sand and brine and smoke from a small campfire. Palate is nicely warming and smooth, with vanilla butter biscuit, green apples, hay, and a nice hint of peat leading to a slightly woody, dry, and clean finish. More obviously an Ardbeg, but also quite refined and approachable. My favorite of the series so far.

Nose is dried cedar chips and blackstrap molasses, with a light salt backdrop. Palate is smooth, almost creamy, with red delicious apples, shortbread, and brown sugar briefly making appearances before closing wirh a nice burst of vanille toffee and oak, and light smoke tying it together from start to finish. Almost too smooth to be Ardbeg, yet still identifieable. Very nice, and well created.

This needs time to breath. Aroma doesn’t change much, being rather earthy and grassy, with a backchannel of dried dark fruits. Palate changes a lot. First sip was lightly sweet apples and artificial honey backed by ethanol, with no middle and an abrupt close that was dry acetone. After 10 minutes in the glass, the ethanol is much reduced, the honey is deeper, and I can find golden raisin in the middle before a quick close that is now acceptably astringent instead of acetone harsh. Probably not a repeat, but I’m happy to have found and tried it.

Nose is light, white fruits with an undercurrent of old grass clippings. Palate opens with apples and honey, becomes slightly sweeter like honeydew melon and then closes with oak tannins and wood shavings. Nicely smooth, creamy and gently warming, with great legs in the glass. Wish I had better luck finding this in the states.