Tastes

At a New Years gathering and someone said there was Bookers. I said, “Ooooh, what kind?” It’s this guy. The nose starts out sour and oaky. As it rises from the glass it becomes a drying aroma. It gives the impression of opening up an antique wooden chest. On the palate, there are herbs and spices up front, like basil, oregano, and red pepper flakes. There is a juicy berry sweetness mid-palate, and lots of complexity at the back. Mouthwatering and incredibly astringent, this bourbon finishes burning all the way down, numbing and soothing. What I needed all 2017 but only got at its end. (Partially kidding.)

Rosé hue. Appearance unlike any I’ve seen. It is a liquid jewel. The nose is also really special. Salted raisin, orange blossom honey, cardamom immediately, with rich and earthy peat surfacing as it opens up. Overall the nose weds smoky and sweet, presuming smoked game bird altogether. First on the palate is the classic Laphroaig peat punch. The second wave is rather hot, with smoldering cigar and madeira coming through. Hints of candied hibiscus. It took time to realize it, but for me the punchline of this dram is buttery, melt-in-your-mouth empire biscuit (Scottish shortbread with berry jam). This whisky gets sweeter as it goes down, but that sweetness is not a sugary sweet. Like the nose would suggest, it is rather a peppery, meaty sweetness. I will say, though, that the meatiness isn’t necessarily a dominant aspect of this malt in the way that I might characterize the Lagavulin. The richness is more central. To take a more apophatic route, it’s definitely not cloying. The mouthfeel is oily, but not uniformly so. It’s also waxy, but very smooth. It’s really a unique mouthfeel that evokes salivation. Cairdeas 2016 leaves with a maritime finish and a medicinal burn that diminishes to an impressive aftertaste of patacón, Che berry, and musted grape skins.

The color is deep amber. The nose is an impression in itself: A light, but consistent rain is falling as I am walking through a woodland setting sometime during the Lenten season. It's one of those existentially rich, pensive moments outdoors where my being and the earth's feel especially uniform to one another. I come upon an ancient, gnarly evergreen, and at its base on the exposed roots there is a bright green tuft of moss. I stoop down to the ground and gently smell the simple scene: the rain-soaked moss, earthy and storied; the old evergreen, sweet, resinous, and vibrant. With time, the arboreal nose evolves into a more classically maritime one. Notes include worn leather, sultanas, tree sap, peat, black peppercorns, balsamic reduction, onion jam, maduro tobacco leaves, and Japanese pine incense. The mouthfeel is balanced, the oak tannins and the oiliness working together seamlessly with the peat flavors. The finish is a wave of salinity, dried chile árbol, fig preserves, and plum skin. When the finish diminishes at long last, sweet peat and light smoke remain on the palate. This malt is a paradox: austere as much as it is mundane. It is definitely one of the most special bottles in my collection.

Elias and Molly gave me a bottle of this as a parting gift; it was one of their favorites from their distillery tour in Ireland. It was also one of the first (and most memorable) Irish whiskeys I've tried, so it's an incredible treat to have a whole bottle to explore. The nose is an array of manuka honey, rain-soaked heather, spicebread, and chamomile. The palate strikes sweet at first — warm cocoa brownies, butterscotch, and baked red apples. Also at play is that "floral depth" that I recognized even as a rookie. (Is it from the grain? The triple distillation? Both?) With time and aeration, the nose becomes a bit grassier and the palate somewhat saltier. The grassy aroma is akin to that of a sunlit farmhouse — sweet, pleasant, timeworn. Despite the overall sweetness of this whiskey, I find a gently oily mouthfeel. The finish ties all these notes together beautifully, and the dried glass boasts oak and chamomile. A remarkable Irish.

This was my birthday dram... And I'm so glad it was. The nose is simply stunning: vanilla tobacco, dried fig, golden raisins, heather, nutty. On the pungently oaky palate, there are toasted and salted nuts, pistachios, shortbread, fresh ginger, and overripe cherries. At first this malt's mouthfeel is honey-sticky, but it becomes more drying as time goes on. The finish—the finish!—is long, leatherlike, antique, and luxurious. The richly malted aftertaste remains long after the gentle warming sensation has gone to your core. This is undoubtedly a star of Speyside.

What an inscrutable single malt. The aroma is full of oak and earthy spices, while the palate is floral, cereal-like (oatmeal), fruit-forward (banana), and reminiscent of dry grass. The finish burns hot, making sense of this tropical malt's youth, and is musty and woody.

Under the peat, the nose gives way to cinnamon and other earthy spices (turmeric is the only note I could discern, but there was more there), red pepper flakes, apricot jam, and just a hint of berries. The palate is notably sweeter than the nose, with grilled peaches, those smoky-sweet chiles pasilla, blackberries, and yes, glazed ham (my wife's astute observation). All of this is supported by a foundational mossiness. The mouthfeel is oily, but lightly so, and the finish is of medium length. A gentle dram, but incredibly complex nonetheless. Dry glass: peaches, sandalwood. Paired with Dijon crusted pork chop with apples, beer onions, and roasted red potatoes at Brocach. Thanks to the Johnsons for taking us out for our anniversary!

Smells like tropical fruit, hay, toffee, and vanilla. The palate is sweet and rich, with more development of what is found on the nose. For a younger malt, this dram carries its weight. A nice everyday Irish. Cheers Josh!

A more pungent nose for a bourbon, with an oily and smoky palate that eventually opens up to the more standard sweetness you might expect. Ends with lots of spice. All this makes for a unique, complex glass. Thanks for sharing Josh!

In the glencairn, the whisky is pale gold, like midwinter sunlight. The newly uncorked whisky's first and most obvious aroma is that of unripe, green banana. Further in, I discern hard cider, fresh pineapple, light vanilla, and desert lime. The palate reminds me of a Gose; and like the beer, this single malt tastes salty and yeasty, while its maltiness is sour. More patience reveals sage, banana cream, and lemon poppyseed bread. The midpalate is toasty and malty, and the finish is wonderfully salty, warming, and elevating. The aftertaste adds to the panoply of flavors hints of espresso and cinnamon. This dram has an astonishing complexity and is one I'm so glad to have the whole bottle to enjoy. Also, Kory and I often wait to open new bottles till we're together, and we never share notes till we feel comfortable with our initial judgments. We both put 'unripe banana' as the first note for this one. So contra the naysayers, no, beverage tasting isn't just subjective nonsense.