Tastes

Bottle 296, Batch 001, Cask 5, Tree 12. I once owned a Glen of Imaal Terrier. It’s ok if you’ve never heard of them; I’ll wait while you look them up, and please do…it’s worthwhile. Lineage says they likely originated from the farms of County Wicklow. He was the best dog I’ve ever known, and I figured if the county can produce whisky that’s half as good as the dog, it’ll be fantastic. So I finally found and grabbed this bottle. Nose is quite restrained, and hits me in three distinct segments, first as soft tropical fruits and then coconut and then weathered oak. Ethanol is low with this, so don’t be afraid to root around and look for others. A little more digging finds light honeysuckle and slight pine pitch, but that’s about all I could pull out. Palate opens very, very dry, and is yet somehow creamy, like a really nice Chardonnay; apples, pears, green grapes and honeydew dance lightly around your mouth before it too quickly turns to very bitter grass and blanched almonds. Close is so short it could aptly be called abrupt, leaving just the smallest bit of vanilla and honey before fading completely to a flavorless tingle that continues for another 20 seconds. So how did this compare to the best dog I’ve ever known? Not all that well, if I’m honest. The potential is there…creamy, vibrant, multi-faceted, but it just turns too bitter, too fast. A reasoned rating is probably a 3.25. However, I will try another offering because I’m nostalgic (and stubborn, just like the dog). Maybe a few more years in a different wood will make all the difference. Either way, I like that I can look at the bottle and fondly recall the dog. And this is my review, and my rating, and to me that’s worth another half a point, so 3.75 it is.

Barrel 3275, 52.3% ABV, bottled spring 2021. Nose is wet pine boughs, shaved cedar bark, stale black pepper and topsoil smoothed out with an undercurrent of vanilla. Ethanol is very present, so use caution here. Palate is obviously rye, but not painfully so; pine needles, spearmint and rosemary are tempered by rich caramel and vanilla which lingers for 15-20 seconds before closing cleanly with dry tea and a nice Novocain numbness. Very rich, mouth-coating, on the edge of oily but not quite there. I find this better from a Norlan than a Glencairn; it seems to change the balance of herbal/sweet just a smidge more to sweet, which makes it feel richer and takes the edge off the spice punch. I like rye. I approach it as a nice change of pace when Scotch is too Scotchy and bourbon too sweet. This bottle however, stands on its own, and is more than just a minor alternative to otherwise favored styles. This will be a regular on my shelf.

This is my introduction to Chattanooga distillery, and I won’t bury the lede by stating plainly and upfront that it will not be my last. I love Scotch. I’m developing a very deep relationship with bourbon and American whisky. I saw this and realized I had to give it a go. Nose takes some work to hunt out, but is worth it and very unique: Cedar chest, pine tar, powdered candy (runts, or maybe sugar straws?) and a running undercurrent of Old English furniture polish. Push too deep in the glass though and you’ll be quickly reminded this is young, and the ethanol is happy to say hello. Palate opens warm and crawls up the tongue dropping flavors along the way…pine and honey at the front, a splash of salt then caramel at the midway point, and finally a dryness almost like grapefruit at the close, all underscored by smoke and just the faintest bit of peat sweetness. I’ll admit that it took me a while to warm to this. It’s not bourbon. It’s not Scotch. At times it tastes similar to one or the other but that’s as close as it gets. I usually like bourbon for rich sweetness and Scotch for either herbal or meatiness (and of course the peat!), and this is neither. But I’m (now) okay with that, because overall I think it’s pretty damn good.

I have finally found it. The first (and to date, only) whisky that I prefer in original form versus cask strength. I adore the Laphroaig PX cask. It is phenomenal. Dreamy. I won’t repeat my review, but it still sits in my top 5 despite my palate and budget having grown significantly since I typed those words of happiness into existence. This CS version shares the same notes and flavors…plum, earth, hay, iodine (band aide), peat, brine, et al, but the balance is off. Like, General Motors makes both the Cadillac CTS-V and the Chevrolet Corvette, and until 2019 they shared a chasssis and powertrain but were tuned and marketed much differently. The Corvette is unpleasant and coarse during most general motoring, but the stiff suspension shines in specialty events, whereas the CTS is a very good car that excels in most places, all of the time, and is only bested by the ‘vette on a track. Same applies here. This is good Scotch. All the flavors are there, but you have to hunt for them, you have to dig through the extra punch of ABV to pick them out, and the standard PX presents them on a platter for easy enjoyment. It’s more work than is necessary, and the rewards are minimal (and fleeting) in comparison to the effort. Please, do grab it if you find it because it’s great, but don’t pass up the OG, because honestly, I believe it’s actually better.

If your breadth of Irish goes beyond the standard offerings from Jameson and Bushmills, you will instantly recognize this as a kindred spirit on both the nose and palate. Cut apples, mashed grapes, and a bit of bitter chocolate powder make for an interesting aroma, provided you don’t nose deeply enough to get the ethanol. Palate is same song, second verse, except there’s no escaping the burn here; rich, full, sweet and smooth, and then suddenly whamo! Burn. It’s not a cask-strength burn or any such, but it definitely colors the entire experience, as though I’m offended that something so smooth and sweet could suddenly turn bitter and hot. And to me it’s more of an unrefined hot rather than a ‘duh, this is alcohol and alcohol sometimes burns’ kind of hot. As if 14 years wasn’t enough and it could use just a few more. That burn takes me all the way to the finish, which briefly flashes orchard sweet again before turning green-apple sour and fading to a clean lidocaine tingle that lasts several minutes. Also note that time and air are not friendly to this, washing out the good flavors and leaving more of the burn. It is certainly not bad, but it’s also a little disappointing because at $70, it’s not really distinguishable from most any Irish in the $40 and up range.

Nose is soft and sweet; vanilla, caramel, honey and a little crème brûlée. Based on nose alone you’d never think this was 117 proof. The first sip however, will quickly and forcefully remind you, battering first your tongue and then your sinuses with a surge of hot cinnamon and burning menthol. A Norlan glass helps a little, but not as much as you’d like. Palate is just ho-hum…there’s your vanilla and your caramel chatting nicely, waiting for sugar and spice to introduce themselves when the brash cinnamon and oak twins crash the party and make so much noise that everyone else heads for the door. Abrupt end, and all that really lingers is astringent heat. Too bad. Even with water it’s still a bit hot, but at least the palate is manageable enough to get a little bubble gum and cooking spices to show before again fading to cinnamon and not quite as pronounced wood. If this was 4 years old and $40, I would be more accepting. At 7 years and $70 it competes with Knob Creek 120, Jack Daniel’s SBBP, Elijah Craig BP, and Maker’s Mark CS. It’s true that many of these have a different flavor profile, but that’s kind of my point; they aren’t just hotter, old(er) versions of a core line that brings only the bare minimum of stereotypical bourbon flavors…through careful cask management or no filtering or just not adding water, they offer an experience that is much removed from the standard line, and this just doesn’t.

This is another example of how what works for Scotch cannot be universally applied to other whisky with the expectation of similar results (and vice versa). Nose is funky and musty, and reminds me of grape cool aid that sat outside for a day. Or maybe a baby’s bib, the day after they had grape juice. It grabs your attention, but not in a good way and toes the line of being off-putting. The palate is dominated by musty, wet wood from beginning to end; a heavy, vegetal, dirty flavor just overwhelms the smatter of plum and honey that would otherwise be quite nice. The finish reminds you that this is young, with a blast of hot and coarse ethanol that leaves the lips and tongue numb before fading to the now familiar musty, stale, grape cool aid. It was an experience, and I didn’t dump it, but I definitely won’t have it again.

This is the obviously Laphroaig. On the nose and palate it’s smoke, iodine, brine and ash. It’s also quite hot…get your nose too far into the glass and you’ll burn your nose. Take too large of a sip and you’ll burn the back of your tongue and then also burn your sinus and nose from the backside. It’s also raw, and despite the three casks comes across as unfinished. This is my least favorite of the Cairdeas series, and is easily bested by not just the 10 year Cask Strength but also the standard 10 year, which is readily available for half the price. Find a glass at a bar if you must, but don’t spend a lot of time looking for a bottle to call your own.

I broke my own rules so I’ll be brief: Out of a Norlan glass it tastes exactly like what I imagine a heavily peated Caol Isla 18 year would taste…lemon oil, smoke, and hay with the littlest bit of honey tying everything together. It’s amazing what a change of glassware can do.