Tastes

From a beautiful olive bottle pours a bright, floral yellow. The nose is salty and meaty right away, with Lagavulin's signature smoked game feel being apparent. But it's also zesty, like unripe lemon, and has bold aromas of sourdough and seaweed. The palate is at first sweet and richly malty, and smoked honey comes right before the spicy burn. The malt's youth plays against the bold body that characterizes older Lagavulins; but this isn't that attention-hungry class clown—this is that cunning, malevolent youth that schoolteachers dread. But in this whisky, the youth is balanced by the rich body, and that beyond-reform pupil meets his match with the old-fashioned, stoic professor that reads Hume and Nietzsche. As the palate develops, I taste grilled stone fruit and sizzling fat. The finish burns and almost stings, numbing and intoxicating the whole mouth. The aftertaste is somewhere between char and dried wildflowers. This is truly an impeccable dram.

Pale sunlight in color. The nose is youthful, zingy, and green; I smell lemon peel, the skin of Granny Smith apples, agave nectar, and wet hay — finally, a gently smoky peat scent arises. The palate boasts first and foremost that honeycomb-like, waxy Highland Park trademark; it's muted and smooth at first, with malt, toasted pine nuts, and light salt mildly held together. As I spend more time with it, its more delicate notes come around — hibiscus, herbal tea, thyme, and tarragon. The peat plays a supporting role, giving the dram an herbal feel rather than a smoky one. It finishes with some heat, but it's not unpleasant. The aftertaste is sweet and nutty. Perfect for an everyday pour during the warm months. 

The nose is tart and unremarkable (even in a glencairn and after a great deal of patience), with surface-level hints of unripe berries and young spirit. The palate is more rambunctious, angsty even: sharp vanilla, perfumed and floral, with underwhelming flavors of rock candy and fruit overpowered by heavy menthol and barrel spice. The mouthfeel is waxy and the aftertaste is that of cherry chapstick. Seedbread comes along after the pleasant raspberry zing finish that happens to accompany that spicy palate. I see some nice Lowland characteristics at play, but only clumsily — not as in the sure simplicity of a Glenkinchie. Overall one of the least luxurious scotch experiences I've had. Maybe the bottle that Kory got was an anomaly. 

Starts with an alcoholic burn of smoked vanilla and bright citrus (like orange essence). I then fixate on tar-like peat in this rich bouquet. The palate boasts seaweed paper, light salt, peppered capicola, caramel, and cherry tobacco. The finish is smoky, woody, and leathery, leaving an aftertaste of mint leaves and more citrus. Certainly this is a tempestuous dram; there's much to consider. Another winner from the Isle of Skye.

The bouquet is definitely that of a Springbank: bright and fruity, with grove fruits like sweet orange and nectarine; sherry playing the upfront role; smoked walnut as it lifts up. The nose hides it well, but the palate's brininess is discernible even before it hits the tongue. The most striking first impression of the overall rich palate is kipper and peat, while spice bread and candied pecans form the foundation. The finish is lasting, tart, drying, and refreshing. It eventually diminishes into a nutty, woody aftertaste of salt and pepper and ash. The empty glass smells like a mild cigar (Macanudo Portofino?) before it's been lit. Easily one of the best 10-year-olds I've ever had.

Captivating with its deep amber hue, this dram is an elixir that clings to the glass like resin. The nose blooms enticingly slowly, and I sense tart cherry preserves, aromatic tobacco, and banana tarte tatin; as it continues to open up a sweet oiliness becomes apparent. The palate features so many qualities at once, and the mystery is that each note you find plays seamlessly together, not distracting you from one that you'd think would be out of place. Among these are raspberries and cream, polished leather, gentle brine, an unreal woodiness, and mellowed peat. These are discovered in the midst of a leathery mouthfeel. The opposites keep attracting in the finish, where the burn is intensely tannic yet delicately suave, spicy like chili powder yet refreshing like mint. This was accompanied brilliantly by a My Father Nicaraguan cigar rolled exclusively for Federal Cigar in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. All in celebration of Mitch's wedding. Cheers.