Tastes

Thank you to Davie Warner for this sample (and double thanks for pointing out to me I initially posted it to the wrong bottle page)! Longrow's most intriguing feature is a unique flavor of peat on the nose, like a well-oiled leather. It's unlike any other scotch I've ever had. As the smoke clears, the scotch falls squarely within the Ardbeg-Kilchoman Machir Bay spectrum of citrus-flavored peated scotches. This is a dead ringer for Machir Bay to me, where a bit of sherry finishing mellows out the peat. The finish is not quite like either of those two Islay scotches, but it's quite ashy and grassy, like throwing fresh hay on a fire pit. Trying more and more of these quality no age statement scotches makes me appreciate how important it is to try a scotch and judge it on its own merits.

Dalmore probably tests the limits of my price tolerance for scotch at each age level, with the 18 fetching a steep $150+ in the States. But it epitomizes for me the benefits of sherry aging in a scotch. The nose immediately announces its sherry influence, and the palate follows through, with craisins and grape preserve, but also a bit of white chocolate or frosting-like sweetness. The best part is that the flavors are crisp and clean, somehow less muddied or muddled than in some other sherried scotches. The finish has a pleasant dryness, a little licorice, and lingers without overlasting its welcome. At $100 or so, its price in the UK, this is well worth the price. At $150, I'd opt for the occasional taste in a bar or, better yet, an event where someone else picks up the tab.

I tried the Quarter Cask with a skepticism that rarely inhabits my mind when I'm about to taste a Laphroaig. But the idea of shorter aging in smaller casks, a trick that has had limited success in the micro-distillery movement in the US, had me doubtful this could live up to (much less challenge) its older brother, Laphroaig 10. I never should have doubted you, John Campbell! The nose is immediately captivating, with a buttery, toasted take on the classic distillery character. The seaweed or brine characteristic seemed much diminished to me, which is neither a clear positive or a negative, just a different facet of Laphroaig. The peat is warmer, more of a mild stove searing a fish filet rather than a crackling, wild campfire. The palate and finish introduce more oak to the Laphroaig profile, so there's a bit of a tannic or pepper characteristic. Layered over that is walnut butter, and layered over that is a warm but completely integrated smoke that's somehow both mellow and lively. Being bottled at 48% is to this dram's benefit, as the flavors are strong and mask any youth, particularly by lengthening the finish. The finish doesn't shake you out of your seat, the way other Laphroaigs can, but I like its oakier nature. Could I tell this was younger if tasting it blind? Honestly, probably not. This may be a better any day, every day dram than the 10 -- and to be clear, I revere the 10, so that's saying something.

This dram was my wife's pick at Shebeen's, an Irish bar with a hell of a scotch selection in Vancouver. The appearance, nose, and palate of this scotch are a bit surprising in that they revealed to me a close kinship between Ardbeg and Lagavulin's products that isn't as readily perceptible in Lagavulin 16, where age has transformed the spirit into something more distinctive. I loved this little insight into youthful Lagavulin's Ardbeggian indiscretions. The nose has a good deal of lemon or citrus on it to complement a heavy dose of smoke, like Ardbeg 10. There's also a buttery, Chardonnay echo, and the distinct aroma of toasted rice (Asians in particular will appreciate this scent, it's the smell of the rice at the bottom of a metal rice cooker that gets a little more burnt). Very lively and complex nose. The palate again for me was a dead ringer for Ardbeg, and if you'd told me it was a higher ABV bottling of 10 or a version with a few more years of aging, I'd buy it (the resemblance is akin to that between 43% Laphroaig 10 and 51.5% Laphroaig Cairdeas 2015, which was aged an extra 20-21 months). The finish is the star, as there's an explosion of dark chocolate and espresso, with some sweetness and cream. Imagine going to a restaurant and splitting a lemon tart and tiramisu. I also get how that smoky, slightly herbal flavor could taste like tea to some at the very end. This bottle is expensive, but it falls into the worth-a-splurge category for me.

I indulged in a pour of Auriverdes at a whiskey bar in Vancouver, and was quite excited since I hadn't seen it anywhere in the States for a while. It's interesting but not worth the premium over the regular lineup. The nose had a wine twist to complement some Ardbeg smoke, but it felt like a bit of a cooking wine -- a little more vinegar and tartness. At times I also picked up a milky note and some hay. The palate initially was sweet as well, with some orchard fruits, and the mid- and back palate were dominated by a roar of nice, complex, charred Ardbeg smoke. The finish has a coffees and cream duo, as the smoke lingers, but there weren't a rush of flavors. I've found the distillery's special editions are a little hit and miss, but always worth trying. And its price, however, I'd just opt for a bottle of 10 and a bottle of Uigeadail and have two whiskies I prefer to this one. It'd be around a 4-star for me if priced at $80 or below, but at $120+ I'll knock it down to 3.5.

After trying Buffalo Trace for the first time (one of my wife's orders on a recent flight), it may just have earned its place as my house "well" bourbon. It definitely favors the lighter, sweeter side of the spectrum, with scents of coconut cream, a bit of toffee, corn, and the slightest hint of oak on the nose. It's easy drinking and tasty, with a bit of Asian pear sweetness followed by a corn pudding, brown sugar glazed donut combo. The finish is where some spice and oak presence asserts itself more fully, and it's long and warming. The ghost of that Asian pear also might ruffle the curtains a bit at the end. Hard to imagine a bourbon at $25 that beats this one; I certainly can't name one.

One of my wife's two picks on a recent flight, so I got to try it. The marketing hype for this bourbon, which included ads with Mila Kunis, instantly made me skeptical it could be any good in the glass. But, what do I know, it's actually a pretty great whiskey and a powerful oak monster. Firewood, kindling, bark, new-made furniture -- starting to get the picture? -- dominate the nose and palate. In the background I detect only a bit of corn, some syrup, and maybe some capers providing a little seasoning. The finish is sweet and mellow, right? Of course not, it's oak again, like the third act of the trilogy. I loved the clear expression of woody flavor, but the drink is a little unbalanced as a result, as there isn't enough of a complement to those notes, particularly on the tongue. The tannic bitterness also can be a bit much on some sips. But if you'd given this to me blind, you easily could have convinced me I was tasting an old-in-the-tooth bourbon that had just tipped over a bit into the overoaked realm. Very unique profile at its price point.

My second United flight pick. Dewar's is like a synthetic down pillow -- nice enough, nothing to write home about, and guaranteed to draw out a snore. I get the Aberfeldy on the nose, which is nice, along with a sherried raisin note, but also a pinch of vinegar and grain alcohol. The palate is thin and inoffensive, almost waiflike, with a sweet and malty character but stripped of more pronounced features -- almost as if Dewars did too good a job at blending and polishing off the corners here. The finish is quick, over in a second or two, and not a trip to Flavortown, as Guy Fieri would say (it may be more like a trip to one of his actual restaurants). We were watching the show on the flight, which is why that random thought popped into my head. No major negatives here but not worth imbibing for anyone who cares about finding distinctive flavors in a whiskey.

Had this on a United flight, apparently the distillery struck a deal and now the 12 year is on every United flight. Glenfarclas's nose isn't a classic sherry bomb as I might have expected from its reputation. It does have a wine-like character, but also a lot of apple (like cider, as my wife put it), and a bit of varnish. The palate is the best part, again with apple leading the way, some grape, a lot of herbal spiciness, and a roast nut quality that leaves a smoky or mildly sulfurous impression. The finish is disappointingly short and is more of a bitter tingle, like resin, with just a hint of tart fruitiness. I'd take Macallan 12 over Glenfarclas 12 any day, due to the letdown at the finish, but I remain excited to try the famous 17.

This is the first batch of Booker's I've tried, and it's quite enjoyable. The nose has so much cherry sweetness, a real Cherry Vanilla Coke aroma to it. There's a tiny bit of oak, but not as much as I'd want. The full proof doesn't really rear up and smack me in the face, which surprises me a bit given its relatively young age of slightly over 6 years. Must be good barrel selection. The palate has a heavy tannin presence, and is where the oak appears in force. It's a teethcoater for sure, with a rich, luxurious flavor and an almost waxy texture. The finish is really nice, dark stewed fruits, almost like a cherry pie, mixing in with the heat from the proof and loads of cinnamon and oak. After having about half of it, I dropped some water in, which brought vanilla cream to the fore, and made the palate a bit more vibrant. The finish unfortunately doesn't benefit from water; I get honey and some citrus tartness, and the astringency from the wood becomes too pronounced. I have a hard time seeing them successfully pushing the price of this line all the way up to $100, because it's a clear cut or two below Elijah Craig Barrel Proof (which is still $70-80) in my book.