Tastes

A 10 year Glendronach, bottled at 46% ABV? Sign me up. Finished in port casks during its final three years of maturation, this is a dessert dram through and through. But with two years less maturation than the GD 12, is this worth the up charge? Read on to find out. Aromas of fresh cut, ripe plums, blackberries, and strawberry jam greet the nose. That jam note is best expressed after a second nosing. Subsequent dips in the glass offer blackberry confections, and fresh taffy just unwrapped from wax paper. A dense palate of purple grapes, bramble berries, strawberries, and black cherry unfolds. The body of intensity and ABV is felt in the mid-palate. It finishes with notes of grape candy, brown sugar, graham cracker crust, gingerbread, and wine-soaked oak. Delicious. At this point, I was sold. This expression was going to see a number of rotations in my liquor cabinet. But then, curiosity like a 'good idea fairie' had a say. How would this compare to another port-finished scotch in my collection, the Glenmorangie 14 Quinta Ruban? After all, the Glenmo had a good 4 more years of maturation while still bottled at the same ABV - but priced almost 40% less. Could it outclass this? My partner did the honors and poured a dram of each. The glasses were labeled and mixed up. Label A: aroma = berry and a tad more complex than B Label B: aroma = purple grapes and bit candy-like Label A: palate = berries, while follow on sips reveal a full malt-inflected scotch journey. Label B: palate = grape, almost wine-like with a shorter, more muted finish than A. Comparatively candy sweet with less complexity but, surprisingly, fewer wood notes than A. I didn't enjoy this exercise very much. It was sort of like having to analyze and pick your favorite of two puppies - when you'd rather sing the individual praises of each. A less than pleasant blow-up, but the evidence had been swallowed. There was a clear winner, and it was Label A. It was obviously more complex, and offered a deeper aroma and palate. I'm convinced it's the Glendronach and that, indeed, I had brought home a keeper. I was stunned when my partner revealed Label A was the Glenmo. That was a $50 bottle dancing circles around this $80 competitor like Canelo Alvarez in the ring. Incredulous, thoughts raced through my mind: 'exasperation', 'woke', 'infidelity', 'condo for sale'.... I grabbed the bottle of Glenmo with an open fist and drank from the neck.... It was indeed true. My partner was not being a mischievous scamp. Glenmo was the victor. I coughed and hurriedly explained to my partner that my throat had been tickling me. I will thoroughly enjoy this bottle. But once it's done with, it won't soon be replaced. The Glenmorangie 14 Quinta Ruban is simply a better spirit, and obtainable at a more reasonable cost. UPDATE: I recently revisited this expression and ran another comparison with the Glenmorangie 14. This bottle has been opened for over half a year, while the Glenmo 14 was a recent buy to replace my previous emptied one. And the results were confounding. I found myself preferring this to the newly opened Glenmo. The nose was degrees better with reserved notes of port and some brown sugar. The Glenmo, on the other hand, came across as harsher and also a menagerie of fortified wine notes, each striving against each other. The palate on the Glendronach was also superior this time around. It's obvious to me now that the Glenmo needs time to oxidize before gaining the results - and the advantage - of my previous review. Now that that's done with, time to get another bottle of this while I still can!

"By Appointment to HRH the Prince of Wales" is the header imprinted on the box and on the label. Is this liquor truly deserving of regal approval? Or is it posh rubbish? After all, legend has it during the Norman conquest of Britain, King Edward I, played with the title to his own advantage. In the 14th century, Edward's Norman army was on the cusp of defeating the native Welsh. Upon negotiation, the Welsh declared they would bow to no one but a prince born in Wales. By sheer good fortune, Edward's infant son had been born not too far from the battlefield, and well within the borders of Wales. Being the trickster he was, Edward offered the Welsh their new found Prince, his son, and thus fulfilled the conditions of their surrender! The first thing that struck me about this scotch was the degree of complexity. Having had only two Laphroaig expressions beforehand - the 10 and 10 Cask Strength - I was taken aback by the fluid nuances of the Lore. The wildest off-the-cuff qualities were hints of raspberry in the nose, and the cool menthol and licorice qualities in the finish (thanks fellow Distiller community members). But if I had to settle on a consistent note in the nose, it'd have to be smoked honey ham with cooked chili peppers, even as waves of brine and peat undulate throughout. All good and well, as I was looking for a top-shelf peated scotch that offered something new, or different, with the aim of broadening my palate beyond the already certified heavy hitters like the Ardbegs, Lagavulins, Taliskers, and Bruichladdichs. At it's core, the palate still reflects the profile I normally associate with Laphroiag: lemon, citrus, and charcoal briquettes. But it's enhanced with a generous dollop of honey and smoked meat flavors. The 48% ABV definitely helps with this one, as the journey is long and flows into unexpected places. The finish is where the experience becomes unhinged for me, however. The cool menthol, and licorice, finish eventually drowns out the sweet, smokey, and savory notes leaving an undeniable impression of taking a puff on a menthol cigarette after sampling a BBQ dish. In contrast, the Ardbeg Uigeadail is not as nuanced, but it's palate is dialed in better. The Lagavulin 16 has complexity that is on par, but provides for a smoother if less impactful palate. But both just drink easier and 'get it done' for less. The Lore is one where interplay with tobacco, a cigar, might synthesize the contradictions and contrasts in the palate into a more cohesive experience. But, is it bad? No, far from it. Still, of the three Laphroaig expressions I've had - this is the priciest, yet not the best one suited to my taste. It had a good run, but like the legend of the title, I got what I asked for but not what I had expected. Personal score: 3.75, if you're a Laphroaig aficionado: 4+.

Nose: Every time Pinocchio takes a dip in the glass, the aromas oscillate here and there with cherries and burnt sugar. Once you're past the ethanol hit, an underlying subtle note of oats (thank you, @Bourbon_Obsessed_Lexington) and/or apple pie crust emerge from the woodwork. At other times - bananas and wet tobacco (although much less so than in the Makers 46). Just a spectacular bourbon nose. Palate: In the mouth, this is a tad less dynamic but quite rich with maple syrup, cherries, a cinnamon streak, a hint of raspberries, and a spicy, wood-inflected finish. Finish: It gives away its DNA. Its similarity to Maker's 46 is palpably evident. At about 10% more ABV, it's more intense but not 10% hotter, if that makes sense. As I grow acclimated to the ABV, there's almost a peanut and oat note that's surprising. To compare this to the Makers 46 isn't a competition - it's a one way street. Although not night and day in difference -- after all, the finishing phase of this expression uses toasted American oak staves, while the 46 uses French oak staves -- the doubling of cost is justified in my eyes. Zeroing in on the emptied glasses of both - the nose here is much fuller with sweetness and fruit than the 46, which in contrast, plays closer to instant iced tea in aroma. The case @Whiskey_Hound makes in his review of the Wood Finishing Series 2020 is cogent and timely. With the prices of Booker's and ECBP reaching double MSRP, Maker's Mark is offering an excellent value-for-money proposition here with their Wood Finishing Series. (And to flog a dead horse, this is still about $10 cheaper than Knob Creek 12 in California.) While overall, I'm more of a scotch fan than a bourbon drinker - if the opposite were true, I'd easily rate this above the four stars mark. Once this bottle is emptied, I'll be looking forward to a repeat performance from the FAE-02. And that's not an impression, it's simple logic.

The font on the label for the name of this scotch resembles something you might've seen on a travel brochure to the Pacific Islands, or on a menu in a Hawaiian luau. Quite exotic. Contrasting the name, more official lettering affirms that the opaque whiskey contained is "natural color" and "non-chill filtered" at 46% ABV. All great marks to start with. I continue to read that this is "From the Valley of the Rocks". So that's what Glenallachie means in Scots Gaelic? (I don't know about you, but if I were in Scotland I'd think twice before saying 'Ala-key' every time I meant 'rock'.) The lettering of the name now brings to mind Flintstone Chewable Vitamins, marketed for kids in the United States... Exotic, bold, and not easily digestible to my smooth brain. Off with the cork! And to my relief it is natural and not synthetic as the name font might've presaged. I nose it and there's no sign of the metallic, fruit juice powder that I associated with Flinstone Chewables as a young scamp. Instead what wafts from the glass is rich and rewarding. I will defer to @Jose-Massu-Espinel for his review and expert nose. "Old orange peel, [dark] dry cake, various citrus... and grapefruit. So fruity, so piercing, various fruit pulps and peels... Dates and raisins... After the first sip it revealed lemon... Vanilla cake and Cookie dough." What a fantastic nose (and thank you, Jose). The palate follows up with what's promised in the nose. Red berries, black cherries, sweet prunes, a hint of orange peel, dates, and wood resin. Then these notes liquefy and go down with a teaspoon of raw cookie dough shot through with a chocolate chip here and there. The spice rides along the sweet notes like the sensation of a rising layer of heat, that then leaves the tongue leathery and tingly. It ends with the dark fruit sweetness counterbalancing some bitter wood notes. This feels older than 15 years. Subsequent dips in the nose reveal toffee and caramel. Further sips elicit a deep raisin flavor you get with freshly baked raisin bread or cinnamon rolls. There's no question the maturation in Pedro Xímenez casks steals the lime light here. While this is darker in both nose and palate than the Glendronach 15, there's a syrupy boldness to this that contrasts the latter's overall rounder, smoother qualities with its sherry notes masterfully rendered with Christmas cake depth. They are different, but it's oh so difficult to say that one is better than the other. Is this a sherry bomb? Among my favorite so far; the sweet vestiges of the finish linger on until tomorrow. Is the Billy Walker imprint recognizable in both Glendronach and Glenallachie expressions? I'm inclined to say, I don't know. On a cursory glance, both distilleries specialize in the best sherry bombs on the market. I'll be generous and just say both distilleries deliver in spades. This is awesome. But it's so decadent, I'd be hard pressed to immediately want a second dram of it. It's sort of like how I feel about eating dates. Usually two or three are my limit. Moving beyond that is just plain, self-indulgent overdrive. That this makes for a dessert scotch is a foregone conclusion (after all, how often do you re-order dessert?) It's a rich, delicious and unique take on a sherried expression that, in itself, is worth the price of admission. Automatic re-buy.

Whiffs of brown sugar mixed with acrid, unripe bananas greet the nose. After a tipple or two, the aromas consolidate into warm, comfortable brown sugar-crusted banana bread. The nosing notes mirror the palate in the overall flavor hit. Hints of cola with added vanilla and caramel qualities make themselves known as well. Then cinnamon notes lead to a dark spice finish, as tobacco flavors layer in to compliment the experience. This is definitely a whiskey that I should partake in only after a drink or two of something else. As a first tipple, it's a hammer: a palate-cleansing gold brick in an Ansell cattle hide glove. Anything savored afterwards will taste oddly unhinged and diluted. With a four or five drops of water, a good deal of the heat is neutralized. The brown sugar characters are highlighted in the palate, even as a refreshing spearmint note appears in the finish. To wrap things up - at this point, I should introduce price as a coefficient in rendering a score. Unfortunately for bourbon drinkers in California, prices are comically inflated in the most brutal of ways. What you can buy for $45 plus change in the South or East Coast, is sent upwards of $90 here. I'll do a little comparison here with a couple of other bourbons in the same price range and ABV: This is certainly no better than the ECBP, as the heat is much more dominant on the both the nose and the palate. And, while it is sweeter than the Stagg Jr, this Full Proof is less bold and complex. These latter two, I will save for special occasions. This one - I will drink before I head outside to ski while bareback and in shorts. To say I would replace this bottle once it's empty is a tough call - but, I'll enjoy whatever's left in the meantime. 3.75/5 - and a quarter point off for value.

The initial nose is a hit of ethanol notes, before turning into marzipan and lemon taffy. At other times, there's a tropical note and ripe orchard fruits, with hints of cigar tobacco. The palate rolls on with the same notes of fruits, butterscotch, nougat, and floral honeysuckle. Quite complicated for a Japanese whisky, this one. The nose and palate are closer to a scotch profile than any other Japanese whisky I've tasted (four so far). If you had told me this was a Highland, cask-strength scotch, I wouldn't have doubted it for a minute. The finish is both woody and spicy. Further sips consolidate it into a parallel flow of effervescent, citrusy sparkles that light up the palate. (Unfortunately, I'm missing the smoke that many reviewers have noted.) It's a bit hot and a little mouth-drying - very much like a high-proof bourbon. (But hotter still than some BiB American whiskies, while holding only 1-2% higher ABV.) Nonetheless, I picked this 750ml bottle up for a very reasonable price. Had I bought this at the market rate in my area (roughly $100+ tax), I'd most likely score this lower. (To put things into perspective, at the going rate, I could easily be drinking a bottle of Talisker Distiller's Edition instead!) Still, this is easily my favorite J-whisky thus far. I'm of the mind that if supply increases and meets demand, the age statement expressions from Nikka will definitely be on my must-try list. (No hard feelings, Suntory.)

A glass of Tamdhu 12 gifts you with aromas of orange mint chocolates (thanks to @waddelles), while at other times it reminds one of the expert review notes of "cherry candy cane". The palate has your red fruits and butterscotch in a playful dialectic that is typical all over Speyside. The finish is a synthesis of those two dancing components, with baking spices closing in on a fair amount of oak. There's not a whole lot of nuttiness going on - which I would've expected from a drier oloroso maturation. That'd have been nice as it would've complimented the flow from sweet to spice. But then again, I don't get any sulfur notes out of this either. And that's about all I could only ask for from a 12 yr scotch priced in the same range as the Macdaddy 12. At a low 86 proof, the mouthfeel is substantive - but don't expect this to blow your socks off. In short, I paid a Macallan-like price for a same age statement whisky, but got a more pleasant experience. (The novel bottle shape is up there in quality with the Mac as well.)

A nose of spearmint, and blanketing wafts of vanilla. Brown sugar aromas follow as you sip along. The palate entry is sweet and smooth as buttery brown sugar and honey notes envelop the taste buds. When the ethanol hits at mid-palate, the expert notes of burnt toast and barrel char appear. A very warming Kentucky hug follows (though at other times, it feels more like a synthetic chemical burn - I'd recommend a splash of water to tame the heat). The sweet notes fade into a sparkly finish leading to bitter orange and sizzling, dark spices. At other times, it finishes with cherry cough drops and cinnamon red hots candy. This is surprisingly good! Although it's been several years since I've had the WT 101 - I don't remember liking it as much as I do this. Moreover, I find this a notch tastier than the Russell's Reserve Single Barrel 10 and (the now ludicrously priced) Col. E.H. Taylor Small Batch. And to have done that, well, that's one rousing bird.

Aromas of butterscotch with candied coconut on the nose. The palate follows, with the coconut sweetness predominating, and a note of something between toffee and vanilla. It's a normal scotch journey in its development, but finishes with bold bourbon flavors - mainly barrel char and vanillas. These flavors linger into acidic citrus and wood . The new oak finishing is the obvious influence here. The length and character of development in the palate journey does remind me of some very good finished bourbons. But this misses their quality. No doubt, it's a very fine gateway scotch for bourbon drinkers. But at a speculative gloss, it's a tad boring for any experienced scotch drinker. This has impressed me with the same ambivalence I feel towards most Irish and Japanese whiskies. That is, I don't mind drinking it. I often enjoy it. But really, it just makes me want to drink a tastier scotch instead.