Tastes

I love rye and I love rye distilleries that are getting things right, whether they’re producing their own stuff or MGP. In a recent review, I gave a shoutout to Sagamore, one of the rye distilleries doing it right. Here I’m going to give a shout out to New Riff, another. The only difference is New Riff has a single barrel bourbon that in my experience is very good, and a BiB bourbon that is decent enough, though not my favorite BiB bourbon. The commonality between Sagamore and New Riff is the limited selection in my area. With Sagamore, we get the standard rye bottling and every once in a while, one of the special finishes. This means, whenever I’m in Jersey or Delaware and I hit a store, I keep an eye out for Sagamore bottles. I also look for New Riff, though the selection in my region has the New Riff Rye BiB, Bourbon BiB, Rye Single Barrel and Bourbon Single Barrel. That said, I’m always jealous when I see specialty versions of New Riff reviewed on the sites I visit. Malted Rye, Heirloom Grain, Red Wheat…I believe they even do something involving a peated version. I have no idea what effect these specialty grains or methods have on the rye, but I want to find out, oh, how I want to find out. So this summer I was in Jersey, and they had the Malted Rye 6 Year New Riff and the Balboa Rye, and I bought both of them for around 60$. This is what their reputation does, makes me buy cold, without sampling, at $60 thinking I’m probably getting a deal. And all the time I’m wondering, is this so much better than the standard BiB Rye or Single Barrel that I should pay more? Well, on the nose this is definitely a New Riff Rye. It’s resinous and malty. The aroma is strong with pine and spearmint, which I remember the BiB being, but I think the intensity is on the upswing here, particularly if you like the nose on your rye full of mint and pine. It smells like a freshly cut tree pouring sap on top of nutmeg, for there’s an underlying spice element here that’s rather closer to a savory spice than a sweet one. The palate itself is spicy caramel with a bit of milk chocolate, and quite frankly, amazing. While the nose is an enhanced version of the BiB, the palate on this one is where it’s at. It’s so rich at 100 proof as to remind you of a cask strength rye without the burn. There’s a sort of switch from the palate where what’s prominent is the caramel and spice while the mint and pine move to the background. The finish then mingles the two balancing what you find on the nose with what you find on the palate in a perfect ratio. All in all, a very fine rye, one I don’t regret picking up and would buy again. Actually, I don’t have the New Riff BiB Rye and maybe need to pick up a bottle when the credit card rolls over, though I have my eye on the Single Barrel bourbon, which was a favorite the last time I had it. So many choices, so limited my cash.

I’m not the most knowledgeable whisky guy, but I think I have a decent grasp of what’s good and what’s not good, so one of my friends will often send me pictures of the shelves when he’s going whisky shopping with the message, “What should I get?” He doesn’t always go with my recommendation because we have different palates, but he trusts me pretty well. In the beginning of July he sent me a shot of the clearance rack in the store he was in with that question. I said, there were quite a few good bottles there, and if it were me, I’d pick up the Sagamore Spirits Ale Cask Finished Rye for $50. And if he didn’t buy it, would he get it for me and I’d Venmo him the cost of the bottle and shipping. I can’t remember what he picked up, but he did, indeed, grab me the Sagamore and ship it to me. It's no secret I love Sagamore. They’re batting 1.000 in my book. I’ve had the Tequila Finished Rye. The Cask Strength. The Cognac Finished. And I own bottles of the 8-year, the Double Oak, and the Rum-Finished. Between those first three and the next three sits this Ale Cask Finish and it’s also wonderful. So Sagamore Rye is nice and spicy with the taste of clove and cinnamon on the palate with a little bit of that Early Gray tea flavor. In other words, this is a spicy rather than a sweet rye. What the ale cask finishing does to this is add yeast and hops to both the nose and palate, and it’s a wonderful effect if you like ale or even hoppy beers. The finish is nice and spicy as well with the hops lingering, and it makes for an incredibly unique pour. I’m not sure I’ve ever tasted anything like this, but I’d say the same for the Sagamore Tequila and Cognac finish. The Cask Strength was a little more straightforward but also great, but my advice to you: if you appreciate rye, don’t sleep on Sagamore. They’re the rye distillery to beat right now.

The opposite of my experience with Barrell, with Chattanooga I’ve had two whiskies (Islay Finished Bourbon; Cabernet Cask) and both were fantastic. We can’t get Chattanooga in my neck of the woods, so this is the third of the bottles my wife has picked up on trips to the South. This one initially was the weakest of the three. It’s funny because when my wife hit the checkout counter with the Islay bottles, the clerk pulled the “special stuff” out of the back, which included this. She sent me pictures and I chose this because an anniversary whisky sounds fun. But it didn’t start out with the neck pour as special stuff. It actually came off as astringent, cutting, but I let it sit a few weeks, maybe four, and coming back to it, it’s really good. The result of its sitting in my cabinet is that the astringent edge disappeared. It’s become a rich experience. The nose reminds me a lot of Knob 12, it’s chocolatey, oaky, full of berry cherry aromas. On the palate this continues with some tobacco leaf on the back end. It’s reminiscent of the best parts of a cask strength whisky in that the flavors are very prominent and strong. There’s nothing watery about this, and it’s got a great mouthfeel. It’s still not my favorite of the Chattanooga I’ve had and in fact, still remains in third place, but it’s a strong damn third place because this is very good stuff. I wish they’d actually get Chattanooga whiskies in my State. I’d love to try the Bottled-in-Bond expressions, and I’d really love to get my hands on the rye. Don’t worry, I’ll track them down eventually, but this is a distillery whose very existence I celebrate. And it’s wonderful, that they’re decently priced.

This is the last of the Method & Madness bottles I picked up on clearance, and as I’ve mentioned in previous reviews, all of them are worth it on clearance. I actually prefer the oaky, wood shavings character of the Single Grain to the vanilla apple sweetness of the Single Malt, but they’re both pretty good at half price. My feelings about the line are similar with this the Single Pot Still. In other words, if I had paid $74.99 for this, I’d be disappointed, but I didn’t. I paid $37.50, and this is fantastic at that price. Even at $50 this might be good, but it’s just a bit much for $75. They’re making intriguing whiskies that are just a little too expensive for my taste. As far as how it drinks, this seems to combine the best of the Single Grain and Single Malt. There’s a nice oak aroma with an underlying vanilla sweetness with a cinnamon coating. The palate is apple pie all the way with an apple sweetness and a doughy quality with clove coming through on a medium finish. I was saving this for last because this is supposed to be the best of three, but whereas I gave the Single Grain a higher rating for surprising me, this one was supposed to be the best of bunch and it lives up to that. I probably won’t pick up any of these again, but I have one bottle of Single Malt left and three of Single Grain because at half-off, who wouldn’t stock up on these?

It makes sense, of course, the number of reviews here that compare Uigeadail with Corryvreckan. They’re the Ardbeg high proof entries. Which is better? Which do you prefer? I had the Uigeadail two years ago and am on the verge of finishing Corryvreckan so I haven’t had them side-by-side. My impulse when it comes to what’s better is to answer: why do I have to choose? There’s virtues in both. But much as I prefer to go against the grain, I’m with the majority opinion that the Uigeadail is preferrable by a hair. Now they’re both fantastic. We’re really splitting hairs when we’re comparing these two, and my assessment of the Corryvreckan doesn’t align with the expert review here, which is funny. My dad tasted it and his assessment was almost spot on with theirs: bacon, dark berries. And I get that too. But the dark berries are an undertone. As far as fruit goes with this one, I get more a tropical fruit edge on the palate, primarily pineapple. And it’s strong to me here. My brother-in-law didn’t necessarily get that from it, but that goes to show how different palates can experience the same spirit differently. Now the whisky itself on the nose comes off amazingly similar to the Ardbeg 10 Year perhaps cut with the Beastie. There’s peat smoke with an underlying sweetness that reminds me of Werther’s original, maybe a touch of iodine but nothing so medicinal as you’d find in a Laphroaig, and there’s bitter dark chocolate mixed in the aroma as well. Quite lovely if you’re an Islay fan. On the palate is where I pick up the pineapple intermingling with that butterscotch and mixed in with prominent smoke that gives it that bacon fat quality. The finish is nice and long with a bit of tar mingling with pepper. All in all, an amazing dram that might be a smidge under Uigeadail in my rating, but one I’d gladly welcome any time it was offered. I picked this up a few months ago when my wife was coming back from a trip to Nashville. I’d been on my own with my two kids all week and I wanted to reward myself for holding up with them so well. Uigeadail went up in price recently here from about $80 to $90 but the Corryvreckan was still $90 as well so I figured that before that got jacked up by another $10 I’d nab it and it’s still at $90 so I might pick up another bottle to have on hand in my collection. I do have a bottle of Uigeadail in the cabinet but it’s unopened and I didn’t really feel like cracking it just to compare side-by-side. Memory serves. It’s the better of the two. PS. The more I sit with this and contemplate it, the more I think it drinks like a cask strength Wee Beastie.

Full disclosure: my experience with Barrell products is limited to Seagrass and Vantage. I’ve never had the regular bourbon. However, with that out of the way, my experience with those two whiskies reminds me of that band that everyone else loves that I can recognize is talented but for some reason, they just don’t hit me the same way they do other people. Or it’s like that critically acclaimed film that I recognize is taking on an important issue and is beautifully shot, but it just kind of leaves me cold, like doesn’t touch me in an emotional way. To some extent my problem is also what I like about it: the proof. These are robust and tasty whiskies underneath some strong alcoholic fumes. You know how some barrel proof whiskies don’t come off as drinking their proof. In both cases, Barrell’s nose definitely reflects that. Which means after you pour, you absolutely have to let it sit for a while to let them cool off, waft away. You can, of course, dive straight in because I’m not seeing that it makes much difference on the palate, but with the nose, I’m getting little initially aside from the fumes and some muskiness, some dustiness, some earthiness. As I nose this one, the Barrell Vantage, more, I’m getting nuttiness but it’s not a clearly defined nut, such as almonds, but a more general nuttiness. The nose, once the ethanol dissipates, is largely fruity and sweet, more along the dried apricots and orange marmalade vein. This carries through to the palate which is also tart and oaky and strong. Even with time in the glass, the spicy punch in the face remains and it’s a nice punch. It’s not bitter or biting so much as just the kind of hot where you showed up at a Indian restaurant and they didn’t alter the spice ratings for an American palate, and you don’t want to show that the heat is bothering you, so you drink like ten glasses of water while you’re eating your curry just to survive the night. Thing is, I’ll share a secret: I love that. I love spicy and I love the flavors that come with the heat, so I’m that guy in the corner of the restaurant with sweat dripping down my forehead and the waiters laughing at my ass like they just played a big joke on me. As I go along, the tartness does take on a cherry quality, and there’s even a mintiness in the finish on the back end, but again, the finish is also hot. I’m not sure if what I’m describing here sounds good or not, but I have a bottle of Blue Run High Rye Bourbon open, and this is better than that. I also have a bottle of Larcey Barrel Proof A122 open and this ISN’T as good as that. It is, however, a unique experience, much as the Seagrass was, so again, my hat is off to Barrell as this is a quality product, and I’m open to the experience they provide in the future despite the odd fact that they never seem to give me as much pleasure as they give others. To that end, actually, I think the appropriate simile is they’re like a modern hip-hop act. You can stop reading now if you dislike rap. But I came up in the 90s when rap produced bangers. Wu-Tang records. Rawkus. There was a lot of hard-hitting stuff that made you bob your head. You just felt hard when you put it on your headphones and walked down the street, even if you were a white boy from the suburbs. It was difficult not to walk down the street playing Onyx’s Bacdafucup without a strut in your step. Nowadays, people are like, have you checked out the new Earl Sweatshirt, and I give it a listen, and I’m like, it’s a sad kid in his bedroom with protools mumbling his diary entries over a synthetic beat. I mean, there’s obvious talent there, but I don’t want a sad kid in his bedroom with protools mumbling diary entries. I want “Poisonous paragraphs smash the phonograph in half it be the Inspectah Deck on the warpath.” And that’s kind of how I feel about Barrell. Barrell is the sad rapper mumbling diary entries over protools in his bedroom. It’s not really what I’m looking for when I want a bourbon, but I’ll give it a spin if it’s what you’re offering up these days. And I'll give it some thought and take it seriously, but in the end, if you've got Larceny, I'd much prefer that. Yeah, I know that one took a turn there at the end that you didn’t see coming.

In a recent tasting review writeup for Five Trail whisky, I mentioned that Coors is getting into the whisky game. I have a friend who works for Coors, and he’s been sending me samples of first the whisky Coors distilled itself and a sample of Blue Run High Rye Bourbon, which is a company Coors recently acquired. I’ll admit I was a little more excited by the Blue Run because I’ve seen decent reviews, and it’s a $100 bourbon, so getting a free sample to give my opinion makes me happy. Though he doesn’t actual work in the whisky division, so it’s really just curiosity. A chance to have a FaceTime call and taste together and share our opinions. But aside from seeing the butterfly bottle pop up here and there and looking at scores, I don’t have a lot of history with Blue Run, so we’re entering virgin territory here. How is it? The nose initially has a lot of heat coming off it, but if you let it sit in the glass 5-10 minutes, the heat tapers off, revealing a distinctly high rye aroma of spice and mint. There’s a sort of Colgate thing going on here that isn’t bad. It’s like an alcoholic toothpaste type thing, or maybe mouthwash. This will appear to you certainly if you’re one of those kids who snuck your bourbon into high school dances in Listerine bottles. There are some bourbon notes too, mainly sweet corn and vanilla, but it does feel like the rye notes take precedence over the bourbon notes here. There’s also some spice that makes me thing of red bell pepper here, and that’s actually welcome. Together it all seems to work to bring about a pleasurable scent that isn’t rocking my world but that I don’t mind drinking either. The palate is sweet, but also full of corn prominently, mainly corn syrup. The mint remains but because it’s mingled with a corn syrup sweetness it comes off like your just unwrapped a candy cane from your Christmas tree and stirred it in your bourbon just to see what would happen and found your bourbon subsumed with Christmas cheer. Honestly, this feels like a December drink to me. And what you get on the finish is mint and spice and a little bit of that feeling that you just finished rinsing with mouthwash. It’s unique and not at all bad. I’d say it’s an extremely interesting $50 bottle that just happens to SRP for $100, which would bring me to the question of, what exactly is Coors planning here? As my review of Five Trail pointed out, it’s a decent blended whisky at $30 that just happens to be sold for $55 dollars, so I’m noticing a trend of them now putting out decent whiskies that just sell for too much. Knowing that Coors flagship brand appeals to people who appreciate budget beer, I’m not sure their whisky strategy correlates. Price in whisky, we all know, doesn’t always equate with quality but rather equates with amount of stock available. Are they planning to expand warehousing space for Blue Run that would allow them to age higher end products that would be priced accordingly while making a lower-end product they could see more quickly for cheap? Or are they going to keep with the boutique high-end curiosity bottlings that seem to be the Blue Run bread and butter? I’d love to pick the brain of whomever is trying to work this out because I don’t foresee a winning strategy here. They’ve kept the Blue Run leadership in place which is a decent start because from what I’ve read, they are making interesting whiskies, but my real question goes beyond whether or not they’re making interesting whiskies into marketing strategy: how are you going to sell enough of this stuff to make it worth your while? Blue Run strikes me as having potential, but right now, they're operating by making whiskies that feel to me like a second rate Barrell. This whisky is priced at $100 but I'd much rather have Larceny Barrel Proof, or Elijah Craig Barrel Proof, or Wild Turkey Rare Breed, or Maker's Mark Cask Strength, all of which cost significantly less than this. So how are you going to convince me to buy your stuff when off the top of my head I just named four that are better and cheaper and could continue doing so (Old Forester 1920, New Riff Barrel Proof Bourbon, Knob Creek Single Barrel Barrel Proof)?

Sherried scotch is hit or miss for me. I’ve had some great ones: generally I’ve had luck with Islay finished in Amoroso or PX casks like the Talisker Distiller’s Edition and the 2021 Cairdeas from Laphroaig. But I missed the boat on Macallan. From what I hear they used to be a dynamite distillery who are living on the fumes of that reputation combined with product placement in British spy films. I’ve had the Macallan 12 Double Oak and Macallan 12 and both were kind of middling. Then, the 2nd worst whisky I’ve ever had was a sherry-finished Tamnavulin double cask. The worst whisky I’ve ever had and haven’t touched in years is Jim Beam White, and I understand that’s bottom shelf for people who want to get trashed so even though it’s the worst, it doesn’t make any claims to be anything other than what it is while the Tamnavulin has apparently won awards at whisky competitions. It was only $35 so it wasn’t the end of the world. I looked up scotch cocktails and used it in them until the bottle was dry. But my point here is that I approach sherried scotches with caution. Now, on the other hand, I am a fan of Glenmorangie. I like everything I’ve had from them from the standard 10 Year to the Quinta Ruban (now defunct) 12 and (current) 14 year old version to the Cadboll 15, and while they don’t rock my world the same way an Islay does, I’d never turn one down and I certainly sometimes pick them up if I’m in the mood. And of all of them, I actually think that the La Santa might be my favorite (I hear the 18 is top notch too, but that’s a bit beyond my price range). The sherry aroma on the nose here is quite nice. Whereas with that Tamnavulin there was something artificial and off about the aroma, here it’s got a nice cherry maraschino aroma cut slightly with an undercurrent of balsamic vinegar and there’s a bit of an oiliness to it that’s almost like a hoagie dressing that may sound odd but that I don’t find offensive and am not averse to. There are also dried fruits here, most prominently dates that add a pleasant note. What I like here, as opposed to my memory of the Macallan sherried scotches, is that the Macallan comes off as too dry, a little too pungent and that carries over to the palate where, especially with the double oak, the wood flavors offset the sweetness too much. There is some oak on the palate mixed in with the sweetness, but the oak here gives it a nutty spicy quality like you’ve just popped a handful of train mix into your mouth. You get the dried fruits, perhaps raisins, with a bit of milk chocolate and nuttiness, and it blends together quite nicely (and for $30 less than a bottle of Macallan that sports the same age statement, so I’m not sure why anyone would choose that over this unless you’re aspiring to be seen as 007). The cherry comes back nicely, mixing with the spices at the finish for an overall nice and satisfying drink. It's funny because looking back now, I see that I gave the Glenmorangie 14 Quinta a 4.25, which might be a little high because I like the LaSanta better and only feel compelled to give it a 4.00. I also gave the Caboll a 4.25 and I like this better than that, though honestly, they’re all really in the same league, and not tasting them side-by-side, it’s more a comparison between what’s right in front of me and a memory. Whether you’re getting the 12, the 14, or the 15, the underlying scotch product is a good one and the only difference between the 12 and 14 is the finish, whereas I think the 15 the difference is the grain. You can’t go wrong with a Glenmorangie in my opinion and I’m sticking to it. I never reviewed the 10 here, which seems like a gross oversight. I have had it in recent years since signing up for this site, so I wonder why I neglected it and to me that’s a 3.75 and a great budget buy, so yeah, if you haven’t explore Glenmorangie, I’d highly recommend it. They’re sort of that sleeper product. You never think of them first, but you’re never disappointed when you do have it in the glass. Of course, it looks like this one has gone up in price from the last time I bought it: $54.99 to $64.99, so this might also be the last time I’ll have it. It’s a shame when distiller’s do this. I understand price increases might be necessary with inflation, but when the hike is $10 or more it just comes off as greed.

I know we often use Whisky Advocate as a whipping boy here on this site. They do a Top 20. We disagree with their picks, their ratings. We talk about it being a glossy lifestyle magazine, which it is. But I’ve a confession: I subscribe. I like having something to look forward to getting quarterly in the mail. I like the pictures of distilleries and bottles of whisky. I like the page where they have 3 editors picks, 3 budget whiskies, 3 collectibles. I like reading the reviews even if I feel the scores are overblown, inaccurate. Actually, I’ll admit, I peruse it more than I read it, but I think it’s like $25 dollars a year, and I don’t mind paying that for what it is. I like whisky. They’re a magazine that does feature articles on whisky and have reviews in the back. They do a Top 20 and their top 20 is always whiskies that were either new that year or revamped in some way. Their Top 20 is a conversation stimulator. Do you agree? Do you disagree? And they pay attention to price to ensure that their ratings take into account availability and affordability. In short, Whisky Advocate to me is like the pop band you’re supposed to pretend to dislike if you’re one of the cool kids. No, no, no. I much prefer indie rock. But secretly, you don’t mind when they play it at a club, it’s got a grove, you can dance to it, might be disposable, but goddamn, you enjoy it. Recently, Whisky Advocate did this feature where they asked master distillers at various distilleries what whiskies they constantly have on stock in their own collections, what do they frequently drink when they come home from a hard day. And the results varied, but I believe the most common choice of what they keep in the rotation was Old Forester 100 bourbon. Surprised? This wasn’t just those crafting bourbons. These were scotch makers, Irish master distillers. And they always keep on hand Old Forester 100 bourbon. Now I have to tell you, I found this compelling. I went to Breaking Bourbon where they have a 2019 review that declares this a much improved product over the “old version” which I never had, and says that there isn’t a whole lot that separates this $29 bourbon from OF’s whisky row specialty bourbons which are double the price (and if the 1920 is any indication, a deal at that, though I haven’t had the BiB). I adore Old Forester 100 Rye, and OF 86 was my go-to in the late-aughts (though it didn’t hold up to retasting last year). So, I found the fact that master distillers picked this frequent quite a compelling reason to pick it up. I mean, I didn’t rush out to get it. Used to be it wasn’t even available in my State. But when it got here, after a few months, I bought a bottle and cracked it. And I can see what those distillers are seeing in it. It’s not going to rock your world, but for $29 dollars, the flavor profile is solid. The nose, palate and finish are solid. You don’t feel bad mixing it, but you can drink it straight. So it’s versatile. Will I stock up on it to make sure that when prices start to skyrocket I still have plenty on hand? No. I’d rather do that with the Rye. Because frankly, I prefer ryes to bourbons generally and I think OF’s 100 Rye is worlds better than OF’s 100 Bourbon, but this is damn decent. And you won’t go wrong picking up a bottle of this. As bourbons go, this is less corn, oak and vanilla and more cherry, caramel, berry with a hint of milk chocolate. If I’m being honest, and you love Eagle Rare but can’t find it or it’s overpriced in your neck of the woods, pick this up and I’m not sure in a blind taste test if you’ll notice the difference. That’s why it’s hilarious to me that Eagle Rare has a rating on this site of over 4 while OF 100 has a rating of 3.5 making me think this is either criminally underrated by those of you drinking it, or it had plenty of reviews come in with the pre-2019 upgrade that Breaking Bourbon was talking about. I scroll through reviews here before I write my own and saw one person who said they see no difference between the 86 and the 100, and I think you have to be crazy to say that. I respect we all have different palates, but the 86 is watered down and tepid, somewhat flavorless while this one is much stronger in flavor, mind you the finish isn’t long here, it doesn’t linger, but the flavors on the palate are good enough that for $29, you wasn’t going to be expecting that. I don’t know a whole lot of sub-$30 whiskies that have a long complex finish honestly. So in the end, I do think the aggregate score here for this is accurate at 3.5 (Eagle Rare is likely the most overrated whisky I’ve ever tasted so the 4.0 score strikes me more as hype, expectation and the whisky placebo affect than anything). But that 3.5 needs to take into account that this is just solid through and through. There’s a reason seasoned makers of whisky keep this one on hand. It has to do with the intersection of price and quality and versatility. That’s what you’re getting here.

This is the first time in 118 reviews on this site that I’m giving a whisky a 5-star review. It’s possible I’m unnecessarily picky. Often on review sites, I get annoyed with the generosity of 5-star reviews. I’m reminded when I see the number of them getting kicked around of now-canceled but still in the running for the GOAT of comedy Louis CK when he says, “As humans, we waste the shit out of our words. It’s sad. We use words like ‘awesome’ and ‘wonderful’ like they’re candy. It was awesome? Really? It inspired awe? It was wonderful? Are you serious? It was full of wonder? You use the word ‘amazing’ to describe a goddamn sandwich at Wendy’s. What’s going to happen on your wedding day, or when your first child is born? How will you describe it? You already wasted ‘amazing’ on a fucking sandwich.” So while I wouldn’t say my standards are unfairly high, I don’t dole out a perfect score lightly. I’ve given quite a few 4.75s, which is probably my version of a 5-star review. I suppose for me, I always thought of 5-stars as the unattainable, the holy grail, the orgasmic experience just out of reach, complex and robust enough to always be interesting after you’ve had many sips, but drinkable so that you never get tired of having it. Also, needs to be at an affordable price commensurate with its quality, and I suppose, I also need to have experienced it in a setting that was memorable, that really made the quality of the whisky stand out as a shared experience with friends or family who matter to me. It’s been about 4 years now since I’ve had the Laphroaig 10. It’s always around and I know I love it, but for some reason I just never think to buy it. I’ve heard it some regions it’s been reduced to 80-proof, but here it’s still 86, and two weeks ago, I decided to pick up a bottle, since it was on sale. I cracked it during the football game over the weekend, and I thought, wait, this is it, this is the 5-star bottle I’ve been pretending has eluded me all this time. You see, in terms of whisky, Laphroaig 10 is my first love. There’s no getting around it. Before I had Laphroaig 10 in my mid-20s, I liked getting drunk. I preferred whisky, but I’d drink vodka or gin, too. I’d have tequila if that’s what was available. But I wasn’t picky. And when it came to whisky, I’d only had passable Irish (blends, Tully, Jameson) and what I’d now think of as a bottom shelf respectable mixer was my go-to with bourbon (Evan Williams Black) while every once in a while I’d splurge on Maker’s Mark or Knob Creek. My boss regifted a bottle of Balvenie 12 to me one Christmas and that was really good, much better than anything I’d had before, but it didn’t change my palate the way that my introduction to Laphroaig 10 did. And it all happened during a blinded scotch tasting on my friend Peter’s porch. There were standards there, ubiquitous bottles that circulated in my friend group: Glenfiddich 12, Glenlivet 12, and we sampled these. There may have been an Aberlour in the group. And I know Ardbeg 10 was there circulating with the Laphroaig 10. And while both were eye-opening experiences, there was something about Laphroaig that pushed it up a notch over Ardbeg for me. I’m not ever sure I have to describe it here as though my experience of the whisky is unique, but here goes: on the nose you get a peat campfire, medicinal iodine, sea salt, a bit of vanilla and maybe a hint of citrus. On the palate it’s creamy and robust and the vanilla and peat mingle in this sweet/savory balance that’s pretty much perfect diving straight into a long finish with the smoke and peat lingering and every sip leaving you wanting more. That is, if you’re into it. Turns out only Peter and I were into it, the rest waving it off as “too smoky,” but we were hooked and it was a treat for us. I feel like whenever I splurged on a bottle, I’d make sure Peter was around to share some with and vice versa. Then when I met my brother-in-law, shortly after I’d started dating the woman who would become my wife, he was into Islay too and busted out a bottle of Laphroaig Quarter Cask. And from then on, being into Islay and being able to talk Laphroaig was like a secret handshake with every scotch drinker I met that meant you were down, that you knew what was up. So why I don’t I buy is more often? I mean, I get the Cairdeas every year and if the cask strength comes out I buy that, and I nabbed the Lore last year when I saw it, but because the 10 is always around and always available I seem to forget to pick it up, forget how much I love it, forget how much drinking it feels like coming back to my youth, reigniting a passion, reencountering a first love. I believe I spoke like this when I reviewed Ardbeg 10, in terms of passion and first loves, and Ardbeg can spark this feeling as well, but still, in the end, when I’m tasting them side-by-side, there’s something about Laphroaig that edges Ardbeg out. Laphroaig to me simply feels like I’m coming home after a long absence and being embraced by arms that love me too.