Tastes

I am not 100% on board the Japanese whiskey train. Due to the recent explosion in their cost, driven by demand that leapt tenfold in the last few years, all of these bottles are getting hard to find. Ten years ago, however, these were the Ardbeg 10s or Balvenie DoubleWood's of Japan, and it's worth keeping that in mind. Once revered for being an underappreciated gem or good value, Japanese whiskies now tend to command the kind of prices that would fetch an older scotch from the finest distilleries in Scotland. If the choice is between a 12-year old Japanese whiskey or a 15-year old scotch, those extra three years are going to make a big difference. In Yoichi 12's case, the experience felt like getting yeoman's work after being promised the attention of a master artisan. This whiskey has an air of vinegar to it or a fruit wine, and a palate of Southern tea, plums, and a mellow, herbal peat. There's still a tingling, ethanol edge, so it's safe to say that the older age statement Yoichis should be better (not that those are easy to find nowadays). The smoke from the peat reveals itself at the very end. Not worth the current price, this is worth maybe $50 a bottle in my book.

My wife and I enjoyed a glass of this at Golden Promise in Paris, which must be one of the best whiskey bars in the world (1,000+ bottles). Ardbeg's annual special releases around Ardbeg Day (the actual date, not this whisky) are now a regular feature of the scotch landscape. This whisky kicked off the tradition in 2012 with a cask-strength release for Feis Ile, one that featured scotch aged in the sherry casks that formerly held Ardbeg Uigeadail. It's an interesting and unusual cask choice for Ardbeg, as the use of a refill cask will not impart the same intense, fruity, rich flavors as a new sherry cask does. Conveniently for Ardbeg, it also gave them something to do with used casks. The result is a substantial but gentle giant of a whisky. On the nose, cereal grain, smoke, and tons of leather exude from the glass. There's also some lemon rind, which is an Ardbeg signature. The palate is an orchestral combination of minerality and gravelly peat, vanilla fudge, cream, and a rich malt flavor. The smoke weaves in and out of this one, and I'd guess that it's aged in the range of 12 years or so based on its slightly reduced intensity. The finish is hickory smoke and lingering sweetness, and it lasts and lasts. Among the Ardbeg special releases, which can be hit-or-miss, Ardbeg Day is one of the best I've tried.

Oban 14 is located on the way to Skye from the Lowlands, and it also strikes me as occupying a niche somewhere between a pure Lowlands scotch and a lightly peated, peppery, floral island malt like Talisker. Oban's nose is fruity and reminiscent of Chinese rice wine. Apricot is the first fruit that comes to mind. The palate is sweet, floral, and slightly herbal, with a wisp of peat. The dominant flavor is the core, malt profile that defines most scotches for me. It really almost tastes like a blend in how it balances out various flavor profiles together, without having a strong identity. The age manifests at the end in a tail of bitter oak. I want more personality in a single malt, so Oban 14 would be a solid session dram but not one I'd pluck off the shelves of any liquor store with a deep enough selection to have Oban in stock.

When I spotted this one on the shelves of Milroy's in London, I was excited to try it. Although I've tried multiple expressions from most of Islay's distilleries, I've had a harder time finding and trying Bruichladdich's whiskies. The peat reek of the nose is virtually overwhelming, but it's not typical for Islay scotches. There is no smokiness to it, just a distinct, almost fungal or mossy smell, like raw mushrooms and rich forest soil. It reminds me of the mink oil used to restore the suppleness of leather, which, to be honest, is not my favorite scent. The taste has a citrus malt combination that's a familiar signature of other Islay distilleries, particularly the nearby Kilchoman. But that oily, almost pungent peat still expresses itself strongly. Overripe banana or compost are the unflattering descriptors I'd give this flavor. That note is so strong that it dominates the finish for me, along with some bitter oak. I did not like Octomore 07.3, and, sad to say, I'm not a fan of Port Charlotte either. It may just be an acquired taste.

My immediate thought was to compare this to Lagavulin Distillers Edition, which is aged for approximately 17 years, including a final year in sherry casks, and is bottled at a similar ABV. Compared to that incredible whisky, BenRiach 18 falls slightly short, but that's no discredit to it. The nose is first-rate, with scents of fruit and berry jam, including raspberries, cranberries, and grape. The intense fruitiness and richness comes from the PX casks, and is expressed here more strongly than in Lagavulin Distillers Edition. The peat is faint on the nose, and not particularly smoky. I could taste this scotch all day, as those jam notes combine with a warming, smoky peat. That smoke is rare in peated Highland single malts, particularly given the lengthy aging, so this whisky must have been heavily peated at the outset. The finish is more in the classic sherried scotch mold of Auchentoshan Three Wood, but with more balance from the spice and slightly bitter, savory flavors characteristic of a peated whisky. At $125 or so, it was not cheap when it was available, but this may be one of the best examples of the peated Highland/Speyside style that I've tried. I had Kilchoman 10th Anniversary on the same day and, to be honest, this scotch blew the Kilchoman out of the water.

Actually, the coolest thing about this bottle might be the bottle itself, and the tin. I couldn't even summarize all of the material here, but there is some fascinating insight into The Balvenie's process. The side of the tin even includes a graphic of the organic composition of the peat in the Scottish Highlands compared to Islay, which accounts for some of the difference in flavor. According to the graphic, almost 50% of Islay peat consists of phenol, which produces a medicinal character, while the Highlands feature a much larger share of non-phenolic, earthy, peat. The two have roughly equal shares of "guaiacol" peat, which produces sweet and spicy notes. That contrast in composition makes sense in light of the different flavors that the two types of peat produce. I love the fact that this bottle gives information that even experienced scotch drinkers would not know, but which we would find valuable. This whisky is ochre in the glass -- just lovely. Don't expect anything close to the Islay punch coming from this whisky, even if Balvenie refers to it as "heavily peated." The initial notes are all sweet: frosting sugar, the quintessential Balvenie vanilla, and apple. It's a well-balanced, albeit at times insubstantial, nose. Those powerful vanilla and apple aromas are wafting off the glass because that's what you're about to taste. The cereal, malt sweetness also expresses itself here, and again that earthy, terrestrial peat tethers the palate and prevents it from being too thin. Some spiced honey threads in and out of the experience. The finish is mildly drying, and once more the dominant flavors are apple and vanilla frosting. There is peat here, but not at a level that I'd consider heavily peated.

Ballechin's peatiness is not like Islay peatiness or even Talisker peatiness. It reminds me in some ways of Port Charlotte, although with a better nose, best described as an intense mixture of leather and earthy funk. It is not a smoke-like scent, it's oilier and more organic. The palate is dominated by that oily, earthy, almost savory note as well, like a grilled portobello with a mildly sweet glaze. The finish is medium in length and, again, perhaps because I'm sensitive to earthiness, I don't recall many notes other than that funky, alluvial flavor. This is not a particularly sweet whisky, so could be an interesting pick for someone who enjoys Octomore but is overwhelmed by the ABV or peat level of that strange dram. I'm going to give it a decent rating because I found it quite unique and am glad I tried it, but Ballechin would not be a daily dram for me.

Clynelish's signature is supposed to be a slightly waxy texture and, perhaps because of the power of suggestion, I did notice that while drinking it. I'm not sure if that's a product of the distillery's stills or whether it's just a function of its aging — having spent 14 years in the barrel, this whisky should have a respectable tannin base that may produce that teethcoating, drying effect. On the nose, this is a very floral scotch, which brings to mind images of wildflowers blooming in the glens of the Scottish highlands. The palate is a mix of honey, some melon, and floral overtones. I've seen Clynelish described as a lightly peated malt but, to be honest, I didn't get that at all. The finish is drying, like a white wine, and that waxy characteristic remains.

This limited release from 2015 is supposedly a mix of "very old" and "very young" whiskies. I traded for a sample of the distillery release, which as the name suggests was available only at Ardbeg and in more limited quantities than the other version of Perpetuum (which also was a few points less alcoholic). So this review is for a slightly different version (this Distiller page is for the 47% percent version, the one I tried was 49.2%). After this sample, I like it but don't love it -- it feels like a slightly smokier and much more expensive Ardbeg 10. The nose is dominated by smoke and wood, so it almost smells like the inside of a longstick matchbox and spent embers from a fire. The only other note I detect is pepper. The palate is also peppery and smoky, although it has more sweetness, hay, and citrus than the nose. The finish is peppery and smoky, with a mouthful of oats at the end.

Now here’s a fun and unusual one, which we got to enjoy because we flew Swiss Air recently. Johnett is made by a Swiss distillery that has been making fruit liqueurs for a long, long time, before breaking into the whiskey game recently. The version we had on the flight had a six-year age statement, so it represents some of the older liquid from the distillery. Johnett is very fruity, with loads of grapefruit, crisp melon, and strawberry. It smells like that part of the candy store where they store all the bright, multi-colored treats. The palate has all that fruitiness from the nose but a surprisingly pronounced oak and a touch of lemongrass. No doubt Johnett is young, and needs a few more years to truly hit its stride, as the flavors haven’t quite melded and harmonized together yet. The finish is reminiscent of a young bourbon’s vanilla and oak notes. I’m looking forward to trying Johnett 10 or 12 when it’s ready. If we had half stars, this would be a 3.5, but I'll round up because I've never had Swiss whiskey before and was pleasantly surprised.