Tastes

I purchased this a while back, around the time local stores were running out of Speyburn 10 and not restocking it. It's been a while since I've had Speyburn 10, but at $30 a bottle, you get an age statement scotch that doesn't break the bank, and while my memory of it is that it's not terribly complex, it was also quite drinkable. Again, these are memories, but it's one of those scotches where you get honey, pear and vanilla, and given the price, that's all you really need. It's a great comedown scotch. Aside from being low proof, it's inexpensive, so after you've had your best drinks of the evening and your palate is maybe a bit worn but you still want another dram Speyburn is what you break out. The Companion Cask carries no age statement but was $5 more than the 10 year, which I'm assuming is because this is a single barrel pick (at least, it had a little sticker on the side and a barrel number stating that it was a FW&GS exclusive). The nose is crisp, clear, like a ripe pear with a bit of bite still in it. And if memory serves, it's not terribly different than the Speyburn 10. Where the difference comes in is the palate. Oh, it's not terribly different (if memory serves), it's still got pear and honey and vanilla, but where it differs (to my mind's eye) is there's an astringency here I don't recall being present in the 10 year. Perhaps the age statement weans it out, perhaps this is over-oaked. Whatever the case, my first two pours a few weeks ago were so brutal that I put the bottle back in the cabinet for another three weeks with about a quarter bottle's worth of air in there, and the astringency tonight isn't quite as bad as it was then, but is still present. It's perhaps mellowing out and here now it taste of oak astringency, so perhaps there was something off in the barrel it was matured in since others here seem to have enjoyed this more than me. In any case, not terrible at $40 but definitely not a rebuy. I can only hope the local stores restock the Speyburn 10 at some point, as I'd like to taste that again. It's been maybe 4 years since I've had it and I believe my palate has changed in that time, so it'd been an interesting experience. Of course, it could also be like when you saw a movie or read a book as a child and you remember it as enchanting and then you re-experience it as an adult and hate yourself for letting the re-experience ruin the memories for you. Oh, well. We'll see.

So my buddy who works for Coors comes through again. They’re getting into the whisky-making game now, and he first shipped me a bottle of Five Trail, which was decent if the SRP was $30 instead of $55. Then they acquired Blue Run and he sent me a bottle of their High-Rye Bourbon, which I think would be decent if the SRP was $55 instead of $100, and a few weeks ago, he sent me a text asking “What’s our next bottle” so I looked at the Blue Run list and selected this. I’m going to say this so you understand that I’m appreciative: my friend is the f#$king MAN! I feel bad, to an extent, reviewing these, as you should never look a gift horse in the mouth, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed having these bottles around, but, um, yeah, the Emerald Rye is similar to the High-Rye Bourbon in that if it were priced at $55 it would be competitive. I’d still favor New Riff single barrel picks and Wild Turkey Rare Breed Rye. Alberta Premium at $70 is better. Single Barrel Knob Creek Rye at $70 is still better, and I haven’t tried Pikesville but I’m guessing from everything I’ve heard that it’s better. So I guess I’m looking a gift horse in the mouth here, not necessarily based on quality: I can drink this and enjoy it. But based on the fact that my buddy is interested in my opinion and quite frankly, I give it frankly on FaceTime calls where he has a bottle of this and I have a bottle of this, and we compare notes. Given he works for Coors, he’s a little more forgiving. There’s that old Upton Sinclair quote I like in that respect: “It’s difficult to get a man to understand something when his salary depends on not understanding it.” Not that I think my friend is disingenuous in putting a positive spin no this bottle. He, in fact, had three bottles in front of him when we did our tasting, two at my request and one at his choosing. First, we opened this Blue Run Emerald Rye. I told him I was almost entirely sure it was the exact same recipe as the Blue Run High Rye Bourbon. My suspicion is that the Rye was a high corn rye, but I didn’t have any left to sample. He still has some pours, so he plucked it out of his cabinet. And he tasted them both and declared the Emerald Rye superior in its roundedness and intensity. Then he poured himself a glass of New Riff Single Barrel Rye and declared that his favorite (remember the Blue Run bottles are both upward of $100 and the New Riff is $55). So for my tasting (and that’s three paragraphs beginning “so”), I’ll fully admit I’ve been recovering from a cold and while my sense of smell isn’t entirely gone (don’t think it’s COVID), that sense is definitely impaired. Thus the nose begins hot, like burning hot. I opened the Sagamore 8 Year Rye at Thanksgiving and it’s 115 proof and drinks like it’s 90. This is 115 proof and drinks like it’s 130. If you don’t air it, it’s going to take off some of your nose hair and maybe the first layer of dermis below your nose. It’s not terribly complex but not bad either, rye spice and mint mingle with a sweetness I can really only describe at this point as “candied.” Kind of like the High Rye Bourbon, there’s a candy cane aroma to the nose. As mentioned, with my sense of smell slightly impaired, it’s going to impair the taste, but again, it’s on the sweet side of sweet rye. More Sazerac than Overholt. It’s sweet with a bit of spice, and I prefer my ryes on the spicy side. The palate introduces cola and vanilla to the candy and mint on the nose, and the finish is mid-length, neither long nor short, and I’d like to say, like Goldilocks, just right, but I prefer my finishes long. It’s hot all the way through, and in the end, my friend posited that the appeal here is the limit in batch run (they label their bottles with a number out of a number, you know?) and the bragging rights that might come when you acquire it. Bragging rights for limited numbers is for amateurs, however. All I care about it drinking some good juice. And this is acceptable juice that I’d have trouble calling good when I know how much it costs. Best of luck, Coors. I, for one, am grateful for a free supply but am unlikely ever to purchase at these prices unless you can do something to REALLY improve the quality. So I’ll close with a quote from Frederic Nietzsche: “Woe unto those who stare a gift horse in the mouth, for if you stare a gift horse in the mouth too long, the gift horse stares back.” Or something like that.

It’s funny to me how there are certain whiskies where, I open the bottle and nose it and taste it and get excited and have ideas and have to write my review right away while the experience is freshest. Then there are other bottles where I’m in no rush. I don’t really have thoughts other than, ah, that’s good, or oh that sucks, and I have to live with the liquid for a while before an angle on the experience begins to coalesce. Elijah Craig Barrel Proof B523 is one of the later types of bottles. Truth be told, part of the delay is not a lack of quality but a lack of excitement about what’s in the bottle. I hear C923 is phenomenal but I haven’t been able to get my hands on a bottle yet. They just got a new shipment of ECBP in at local stores last week and it was another round of B523, so I didn’t buy it. This is one of those where I felt no need to buy a second bottle (as a point of comparison I bought two bottles of A123). You see, despite batch variation being a very real thing, I find little variation within the variation if that makes any sense. Yes, A123 was better than A523. But we’re not talking wide deviations from the norm. I gave A123 a 4.0 and spoiler, I’ll likely give this the same rating despite the fact that it’s not quite as good. Thing is it’s better than most of the whiskies I’ve given a 3.75 here so it has to be a 4.0 even if it’s not quite as good as A123. Maybe A123 deserves a quarter star bump, but from my experience of ECBP, the variation in score is basically between 4.0 and 4.25, with maybe a 4.5 being left to the exceptional batches like I hear C923 is. In short, for some reason, ECBP batches are an event in the way, say, Maker’s Mark Cask Strength batches aren’t, even though there’s similar variation in them. But of course, I don’t want to feel the need to have to review every batch of MMCS because there’s not quite enough variation between the batches for me to say something new every time. And despite ECBP being more of an event, I kind of feel the same: I reviewed one batch, and just because you slap a different letter/number combo on it, well, why should I have to review them every time around when the flavor profiles tend to be pretty similar (mind you, I said “similar” and not “the same”)? So ultimately, this is very good whisky that isn’t particularly exciting. The nose has oak, vanilla and toffee with a bit of cinnamon spice. The palate continues the vanilla and oak mixing in the cherries and baking spice with a long peppery finish that lingers delightfully after the whisky has gone down the throat. The nose was a lot more prominent on the A123 and I was able to differentiate the aromas a bit more clearly but the aromas were similar. The palate here is similar in that there’s the dark fruit mingling with your standard bourbon flavors and the finish again lasts forever. I would say the only thing separating the two in my mind is the nose, which in A123 edges out the B523 nose by a hair, so as I’ve said, probably have to give it the same rating at 4.0. Now for the controversial bit: I’d rather have Larceny BP (which is less aged, but as robust and flavorful and $10 less) or Maker’s CS (which isn't nearly as rounded as this but which I enjoy a great deal still and in my region is a whopping $30 less) as I prefer wheated bourbons. But I’ll take this any day of the week as well. It’s a preference. Not an absolute on this. This was still good enough that I went through the bottle in about 2 months. Maybe it’s just that I’ve never had a truly phenomenal ECBP that I’m just not that excited about writing these up. Oh, and the price jump from $65 to $75 between A123 and B523 in my region hasn’t done this any favors from that perspective.

Even if I drink multiple whiskies on the same day, I usually only review them one at a time. I don’t post two reviews on the same day primarily because with the length of my reviews, I sometimes feel it might be asking a bit much for people to read two at a time. Then again, with the way people dip in and out, you may post two on back-to-back nights and they’re seeing them at the same time, but I also like to review the first whisky I’m drinking of the night unsullied by the experience of other whiskies. Sometimes doing side-by-side comparisons can really elucidate certain flavors. It can make one whisky stand out against another that you otherwise find fine on its own. In any case, I had some Sagamore Double Oak last night after I review the Four Roses and was almost compelled to write it up then because of how much I love it, but I figured I’d wait until today, as I’m getting ready to go to dinner with some friends, having a pre-meet up drink, to share my points on Sagamore Double Oak, which I picked up at the Delaware Total Wine after a trip to Winterthur Gardens with my family this past Mother’s Day (I also nabbed the Cognac-finished Sagamore, which I’ve reviewed here, and the Rum-finished Sagamore, which I haven’t yet opened). If you ask my what my favorite Sagamore is, I might just tell you all of them, all the ones I’ve had are my favorite. I haven’t had a bad whisky from this distillery yet. The most unique to me was the Tequila-barrel finish, and the best representation of rye was the Cask Strength, but this runs in the same wheelhouse as the cask strength. This is very oaky indeed with pencil shavings both on the nose and the palate, mingled with vanilla and rye spice. The palate is rich with a wonderful mouthfeel and the vanilla on the tongue becomes a rich French vanilla with the pencil shavings coming back in on the finish. This is definitely for those who like woody savory spicy whiskies. There’s very little presence of anything sweet aside from that touch of French vanilla. If that doesn’t sound appealing to you, you’re not going to be into this. And speaking of whiskies complimenting each other, last nights tasting of Four Roses in conjunction with this was a perfect pair. So I have to go 4.25 for this too. Both are amazing, amazing woody whiskies, but whereas the Roses is full of caramel and cherry fruits, this is straight up spice, wood, and a little hint of Vanilla. All in all a lovely match. So I’ll pour myself a Roses next to do it up again tonight. This one is, of course, a little more expensive that the Four Roses, but well worth the $65 asking price.

I know it might be hard to believe, but despite being a whisky lover for over twenty years, I’ve never had any Four Roses of any type. I’ve always meant to. A few years back when Small Batch Select was high up on the Whisky Advocate Top 20, I figured I’d purchase it eventually, and the years have passed now, and I haven’t. Always heard the Single Barrel touted as being good stuff and wanted to get around to it, but never did, though the Single Barrel was higher on my list than the Small Batch Select. Can’t say why. Kind of like the bottle design of this one over that one I guess. Cheaper too. But that might have been the other problem: Single Barrel goes on sale around me every two months or so, but the sale is always $1 off, which isn’t much of a sale. I’ve always waited around to see if they’ll give it a $3 off sale or a $5 off sale, but they never do; it’s always $1 off. Well, my birthday is coming up, and I wanted to gift myself some whisky so I bought a bottle of Laphroaig Lore and this Four Roses Single Barrel. Part of the choice here too was @Richard-Davenport reviewing it earlier this week and giving it a 4.25. I read a review on Breaking Bourbon too that gave it a well over average, and decided to finally pull the trigger. Funny thing about the review at Breaking Bourbon is that they describe the nose as delicate and light. It’s certainly dry and oaky to my nose with a bit of spice, reminiscent of rosemary, mingling in with a cherry undertone, and this is right up my alley. The palate itself is nice with an initial hit of caramel and vanilla with oak developing with more time in the mouth, leading to a finish that’s long and spicy. Overall, I’m curious as to how this might compare to other 100 proofs bourbons that I enjoy. This is definitely one where I’m wondering why I waited so long to get to it. Compared to other single barrels I’ve had of a similar proof, I’d say I prefer this to Eagle Rare (which I’ve never felt was anything to write home about) and find it slightly better than Evan Williams Single Barrel if only for the proof points (it’s a moot point anyway, since you can’t get Evan Williams Single Barrel anywhere but the distillery anymore). And while I would definitely take a Knob Creek Single Barrel over this, that’s mainly because Knob is 120 proof but it’s also about $20 more. Actually, I’d kind of like to see how this stacks up against your standard 100 proof Knob Creek small batch 9 year, which has always been a bourbon I’ve enjoyed but it’s also been four years now since I’ve had any, and I think last time I had it, it was the version with the age statement dropped. In any case, this is definitely one I would buy again. The review on Breaking Bourbon had this listed at $40 in 2015, and it’s only $47 in my market now, so I appreciate that it hasn’t skyrocketed in price, and it’s definitely good value for money. The regular Small Batch is on sale for $33 so I might pick that up to see how that stacks up against this, and yes, eventually I’ll get to the Small Batch Select. It’s just that I always feel there’s something I want more at the $60 price point. Hopefully that one doesn’t get jacked up in price before I find time to get around to it. Not sure I’d be willing to spend much more than $60 for it. But yes, the Single Barrel. Out of deference to that @Richard-Davenport review, I will also be coming down with a 4.25 for this, showing some solidary with a reviewer here for whom I have much respect. P.S., I have to add that while I'd totally buy this again, Wild Turkey Rare Breed is $2 more, so it's a tough decision. I actually almost came away with another bottle of Rare Breed instead of this, but I already have a Rare Breed at home in my cabinet so I opted for variety.

A lot of people applauded Ardbeg Wee Beastie for being brave enough to put an age statement of 5 years on it. Bold move for a scotch, they said. Just goes to show age isn’t everything, they said. Well, it is and it isn’t. I like the Beastie, and it’s proof that, as long as you keep price in check, younger whiskies with age statements can be enjoyable. After all, when Beatie hit markets around here it was $43. Now it’s $50 ,and it’s pricing me out. If the 10 Year Ardbeg is $65, I’d rather pay $15 more for a superior whisky. And the reason I’m bringing up Wee Beastie here, is The Storm tastes similar: it’s young, there’s NAS, and compared to Talisker 10, it’s not quite worth the asking price unless you can find it on clearance/sale. Or maybe not? I guess it depends on the market. I got this on clearance in NJ at Circle Liquor in Sommers Point where list price was $80 and it was sold for $50. Seems quite a deal. But when I look at prices online, particular Total Wine, it looks like $52 is supposed to be closer to list price anyway, so I bought it on clearance yet at what in some places if full price. Let me just say, this is, in my estimate, a whisky I’d be willing, after I’ve tasted it, to pay about $45 for, which means short of finding it on clearance from the list price of $52, I won’t be buying again. The nose is reminiscent of Beastie in that there’s a Werther’s Original grandpa butterscotch in the pocket note that’s playing with the peat. The butterscotch is running up the slide while the peat is coming down it. There’s also a little bit of vanilla hidden in between them as though they’re playing squish the lemon with an unsuspecting kid who was just hoping to sit there between them nondescript. And maybe a little lemon on the backend. Okay, so given that, its’ a nice nose. Maybe a little more complex than I at first gave it credit for, but far from the delectable dram the 10 Year Talisker is. On the palate the lemon is prominent with the peat, adding a dose of bacon fat that’s the most prominent note for me on the finish, and is, in fact, the most unique note in the whole experience. There’s maybe even an hint of strawberry in there as it fades that reminds me a great deal of the Kilchoman Machir Bay Cask Strength. Overall, there’s really nothing wrong with this, and it’s quite pleasing. It’s the kind of pour I’d never turn down, and if I were at a bar, I might even order it if it was reasonably priced. But since I don’t drink at bars often, I only can tell you what I think is reasonably priced in bottles. I’m sticking with $45 here. If you can find it for that, get it. It may even be worth the list price at $52. I haven’t tasted it side-by-side with the Beastie, but I may prefer this one. They’re both passable young peated scotches whose older brethren are far superior but are also priced that way. Overall, in both cases, you can’t go wrong with the 10 Year, and the younger brothers give hints of what’s to come, even if they can’t live up to their elder siblings records. P.S. I do like the expert reviewer’s note here: “it loses points for a name that doesn't deliver; this is more moody and brooding than stormy and intense." Whereas for Wee Beastie, I kind of liked the name because it sounds like there’s a little harshness contained there and leads me to expect it to have a bite the 10 year doesn’t have, Storm does sort of up the ante and make you think it’s going to go all Scorpions and rock you like a hurricane. Sadly, there is no hurricane here. So in my final assessment I think I'll be docking this a quarter star from my Beastie rating.

I had Loch Lomond 12 for the first time maybe seven years back, and I liked it. It was a decent 12-Year Peated scotch that I could get for about $35 and always thought of it, along with Speyburn 10, as the best kind of the under-$40 budget scotches you could find. Recently, I’ve seen a few of the people I follow here and have a great deal of respect for giving a low opinion of it, and I thought, uh-oh, maybe I was wrong. If I was wrong I was three bottles and about $80 down because when this went on clearance in my area, I picked up three bottles for $27 each. This was on a record day for me. This was post-pandemic (sort of) when my office opened back up for us to come and get our stuff to bring home for those of us who had opted to become permanent work-from-homers. My office was in downtown Philadelphia, and before I headed into the city, I mapped out all the stores that still had bottles of Lomond 12 left. In the end, I parked off South Street and did my office cleanout and shopping on foot and logged about 50,000 steps in one day according to my Garmin watch (still a record for me). Now, I didn’t crack any of those three bottles right away. In fact, it’s been almost two years they’ve been sitting in my cabinet, but I decided recently I was in the mood to taste it again. I feared the worst, feared that the reviews I’d read saying this wasn’t very good would turn out to be right, and well, different strokes for different folks, I guess. I’m not saying this is a whisky to rock your work and write home about because it’s blown your mind, but at $27 a bottle, this is certainly serviceable. The smoke is present on the nose along with a pleasant orchard fruit aroma making it a nice dram to drink next to a fire pit. I can see how there’s a certain underlying taste to the palate that’s slightly off in a sort of artificial sweetener type way like someone’s switched your sugar for stevia in your coffee (not sure how apt that is as a comparison because like many whisky drinkers, I have my coffee black), but it’s not so bad that (at $27) it would ruin the experience entirely and there’s still enough smoke, pear, and honey on the palate that I can willfully ignore it. Another thing I find particularly strange is that there’s a hint of sherry-finishing though it isn’t finished in sherry casks but three types of American oak bourbon barrels. It’s got a bit of chocolate in it too as it edges toward its medium-length finish, and I’d venture so far as to say that what it reminds me a lot of is a poor man’s version of the Benriach Smoky Twelve. That bottle is significantly better than this but it also costs almost three times as much as you might expect from a whisky of higher quality. Overall, I can concede to seeing how this wouldn’t be someone’s favorite, and if you’re paying anywhere above $40 for this, you’re going to find better whiskies and might want to opt for them, but I enjoy this and will certainly be finishing the two other bottles I scored on clearance at some point in the future, though I’m also in no rush to get to them. I’ve have the NAS Loch Lomond last year and again, at the price point, it wasn’t bad. I’m hearing good things about this year’s Open Lomond which is finished in Rioja barrels and given that that bottle is $50, I might take a chance if I can’t find anything else I’m looking to gamble on at that price point. Don’t think I’ve ever had something finished in Rioja.

Most of the reason people are resistant to peated scotches is, let’s face, it the flavors are abrasive to the untrained palate. When we first encounter them we’re not acclimated to them. Bourbons are sweet, ryes are spicy, sherry finished scotches are sweet. Islay scotches, peated whiskies are in a class all on their own. My children are curious about why I drink coffee. Here you want to taste it? I say. Ew, coffee’s disgusting, they say. It's bitter and abrasive. Um, it's delicious, I say. In my youth up until my early twenties I thought the taste of salmon was nasty, now it’s my favorite fish. It’s amazing how the palate changes over the years. It’s amazing how, even as the palate changes, people with refined palates still can’t agree on what they like and what they don’t like. Take this Lagavulin Charred Cask 11 Year Old. It seems that people don’t like it as much as they liked the previous iteration finished in Stout Casks. I can see that. The Stout Cask had such a chocolate malt milkshake kind of thing going on that it favored the sweet tooth. And we crave sugar, don’t we. Bitter is harder to acclimate to. Char is difficult to enjoy unless you’ve tested your palate repeatedly with char. A few weeks ago I have my uncle and aunt over. Funny to say that, my aunt is only 3 years older than me. My “uncle,” her husband, is a year older than her. They are my contemporaries, my peers, but by some fluke they are my aunt and uncle. They had come to see my daughter who’s recovering from an accident and they arrived during an Eagles game, during which my dad and I drink whisky. I asked my “uncle” if he wanted to partake with us, and he pointed out that, although he doesn’t often drink, he wouldn’t mind a dram. So we started with New Riff’s Balboa Rye. Both my dad and I took the hundred proof rye and said, um, that’s good. Craig, my “uncle,” coughed and said, that’s some strong stuff. Now, you can take this one of two ways: you can poke a little fun of that guy for being a novice, or you can acknowledge he’s not acclimated to the ways of the whisky drinker, give a nod to the fact 100 proof is hot, and welcome him in. Guess what we did? Second one: we welcomed him in. When we all finished our round, about the end of the first quarter, I broke out the Laphroaig 10. And I asked if he wanted to try it, warning him it was a refined taste, it was smoky and medicinal and that, most whisky drinkers don’t start there. To his credit, he took a pour, didn’t complain and seemed to appreciate, having been warned, what it was. But he did comment on how smoky it came off. And I was like, it’s funny, there’s a point at which, the flavors that are new to you don’t come off as odd to me or abrasive or in any way unpleasant. This Lagavulin—the 11 Year Charred Oak—reminds me a bit of the Laphroaig 10 Cask Strength in how smoky it is. The Laphroaig 10 Cask Strength Batch 15 to be clear was so smoky and ashy that, without water, it reminded me of licking the bottom of an astray at certain points. In other words, you really did have to cut it with an ice cube. It reminded my brother-in-law of fried electrical components, which, when pointed out, I couldn’t un-taste, but with an ice cube, it mellowed and was quite lovely. This Lagavulin is like the Laphroaig 10 CS Batch 15 with an ice cube. There’s a lot of ash on the nose and palate, and it’s maybe too much for the uninitiated, but to me there’s little hints of vanilla and chocolate and caramel in the background that make it an elevated scotch. On the palate, the ash diminishes, and it reminds me a lot of the stout finish in how creamy it is. It’s full of chocolate and char mixed together, almost like a burnt s’mores. The ash really comes back on the finish, but it’s not overpowering or overwhelming but delectable and really long and even a little nutty. Overall, I don’t think there’s a drop in quality between the Stout Finish and the Char Cask. It’s really a matter of perspective. This one was developed to be eaten with steak, and I don’t eat steak often anymore (I will steal a piece of my wife's plate, but I'm pretty much a fish eater when it comes to meat), but I could see how this would be good with a steak. This is good all on its own. I don’t think anyone who likes Islay has been hating on this. I think they’re just a bit let down since they don’t think it’s quite as good as the last one? But maybe I’m wrong. Can’t deny it though: Lagavulin makes good whiskey.

My brother-in-law was surprised that, being an Islay lover, I had never tried Bowmore 12. The reason for that is that Bowmore 12 is an 80 proof 12-year Scotch that goes for $67.99 in my neck of the woods. Ardbeg 10 and Laphroaig 10 are both now $64.99, but for years, they were both closer to $50, so why would I spent almost $20 more for a lower-proof Islay? And truth be told, now that I’ve tasted Bowmore, they’re both far superior to this. Not that Bowmore is a bad experience. It’s quiet lovely. I picked it up on clearance for $42.39, which made it even lovelier. Really, this is the kind of Islay you might use to convert a non-Islay drinker. Lacking Laphroaig’s medicinal qualities or Ardbeg’s tar, this is delicate in the presence of its peat. Not so delicate as something like Jura 10, but delicate nonetheless. The aroma reminds me of Lapsang Tea, which is a smoky tea, with a bit of vanilla in the mix and a faint whiff of lemon. The palate continues in the same vein with the peat coming through a bit stronger but only a bit. There’s a bit of honey mixed in, so the Lapsang tea experience continues, and during the finish, the vanilla and lemon flavors come on strong, but the finish overall, is relatively short. It doesn’t linger the way Laphroaig or Ardbeg do. And this is certainly no Bruichladdich. Overall, not really worth $67.99 a bottle so I’m unlikely to purchase this again, but I’m glad I’ve had it. I’d be interested in trying a higher proof older aged Bowmore, as I understand they have a good reputation. For now, the 80 proof serves a purpose. The reason I’m opening this tonight is the Eagles-Dolphins game is starting at 8:20 pm, which means it’ll be over about 11 pm and I have to work tomorrow, and on night such as these, when my dad and I are settling in to watch some football that’s going that late, I’ll thank myself for sticking to the 80 proof whiskies tomorrow morning. Speaking of which, my dad brought over the Jura 10, which is half the price of this, not an Islay, but lightly peated nonetheless, so it’ll be an interesting comparison, but for now, I’m going to close this up without my notes on the Jura. For now, the Bowmore 12 is enough.

This is the second oldest bottle in my collection, one I bought on March 6, 2020. How do I remember that? Do I hold onto my receipts? Well, sometimes, but not in this case. I remember because I had bought this to keep in the bottom drawer of my desk at work. Now, don’t be mistaken, I would never drink on the job (I believe despite having a pseudonym here, I should err on the side of caution and make that declaration) except under extraordinary circumstances. At the time Trump was still president. Now don’t worry either, I have no intention of getting political here or stirring things up. It’s just he was doing a bit of that old saber ratting with North Korea at the time, and with the way my mind works, I figured if the missiles started to fly at major cities while I was at work, I might as well have some whisky on hand to drown the fears of impending disintegration. Of course, most of you would say, “Why would you choose Tullamore Cider Cask as your last dram? Why not Lagavulin 16? Why not Laphroaig 10? Or Ardbeg? You, how profess to be such an Islay fan are going with an 80 proof Cider Cask finished Irish whisky?” To which I would answer that it was a different world back then in more than one. I had my youngest child in daycare at the time and that cost our family upward of $10K a year. My wife was saving for a kitchen renovation which meant I was also saving for a kitchen renovation, so if I had the extra cheese to splurge on a bottle of Laphroaig 10, I wasn’t saving it in the bottom drawer of my desk for a nuclear holocaust. I was bringing it home and ripping into it that night. Life is short. Gotta treat yourself. As for this, it was an in-case-of-emergency break glass whisky. It was on clearance for $14.99 and really, with the bombs falling, would I care about taste? The point would be to anesthetize myself. (Also, as an aside, I knew very well then that North Korea didn’t have the capability to reach the East Coast, but in my imagination, as soon as rockets started launching I pictured China jumping in and all hell breaking loose…it might be far-fetched, but you know, I figured it couldn’t hurt to have a plan). Anyway, I stashed the bottle in the bottom drawer of my desk, wrapped in a paper bag, and went home that Friday night, not knowing that I wouldn’t return to my office for another 13 months. You see, I was working from home on Mondays and Thursdays at that time to help me defray daycare costs and keep my youngest with me while I worked those days, and on Monday, when I went to pick up my eldest from kindergarten, the powers that be in our school district decided it was safest to shut down school for the full week because a mother of a child in the district was a caregiver of one of the first COVID cases in our region. I came home and told HR at work, and HR told me, “Why don’t you just work from home this week, too, just to be on the safe side.” So I did. Then the following Monday, cases around here had exploded, and work decided to move us all to temporary work from home for the next few weeks, and those few weeks became another few weeks, and by the end of the year, our CEO had decided the work from home thing was working out well. While we kept an office downtown for those who wanted to still work in an office or do a hybrid model, they decided to sublet half the space and significantly reduce costs by only using the other half as our offices. Thus in May 2021, I went back in to clean out my cube, and I finally got to bring home that clearance bottle of Tullamore Cider Cask that I’d stashed there for another type of end of world scenario. By that point, my youngest was out of daycare and the kitchen was done (yes, we had our kitchen remodeled in the midst of the pre-vaccine pandemic), so I received what felt like a significant pay bump simply because those were no longer costs I had to commit funds too. And that meant, by this point, I was buying much better whisky. The Tully Cider Cask went on my whisky shelf and there it remained until today, when I thought, it’s October, I’ve got my horror movie marathons going, I’ve got my pumpkin spice candle and my pumpkin spice coffee going, why not open the Cider Cask Tully. So I did, I just made my wife a cocktail with it (1.5 parts Tully 1 part Aperol and a dash of Orange Bitters), and I poured myself a dram to review here. So now that the story of this bottle is out of the way, let’s get down to brass tacks: how does it tastes, smell, finish? Not necessarily in that order. I have to forewarn you, this is not an amazingly complex whisky. On the nose, it smells like boozy apple cider and vanilla and maybe a little maple syrup. The regular Tully has always tasted to me like apples and oats, and this is pretty much the same with the apples being a little sweeter, more prominent, maybe an apple browning a bit or a caramel apple. It’s really light in the mouth at 80 proof, and if the bombs were falling, I’d likely have had to chug to get myself to the point where I walked outside and waved at the missile as it was coming down on old Willy Penn at City Hall. But, you know, I probably wouldn’t have had a problem chugging. Hopefully no one would be asking me to share. In any case, the finish is short, but that’s to be expected too because the base of this, I believe, is the standard Tully where the finish is also short. All in all, however, I can’t hate on this. It is exactly what it advertises itself to be, it was priced accordingly and there might be a slight edge of astringency, but it’s not enough to ruin the experience. Actually, this is a pleasant little fall treat that’s not going to rock your world, but it’s also not something to turn your nose up at. And if you have some apple cider, this is the perfect thing to spike it with, though if you have Aperol and Orange Bitters, you should make the cocktail I describe above, because that’s probably the best use I can see this going to. And what’s the oldest bottle in my collection you might ask? It’s a bottle of Glenfiddich Fire and Cane that I also got on clearance (in that case $25 dollars) in the summer of 2019 before the shit really hit the fan. I’ll get to that one someday, but for some reason, the longer a bottle has been unopened in my collection, the harder it is to open. Usually I have to find an occasion. For the Tully Cider, the occasion is my favorite season, my favorite month, and a celebration that there is, this year, a Friday the 13th smack dab in the sort of middle of October.