Tastes

This blend is part of Diageo’s 2018 Special Releases. It’s called “Cladach”- which translates as “shore”, in Gaelic. Unlike their previous blends normally released annually with the other special releases: Collectivum- this is a blend of whiskies from Diageo-owned, coastal distilleries: Caol Ila, Clynelish, Lagavulin, Oban, Inchgower and Talisker. It’s a deep and dark gold in the Glencairn and forms tiny beads when you spin the glass. It’s very oily and took nearly a minute to form the thick, slow legs. It’s bottled at a robust 57.1% ABV and costs a ridiculous $168. The nose delivers on the name almost immediately, with maritime sea spray and salt. Soggy peat, pine and citrus keep the theme intact for the entire nosing experience. There’s heat and an occasional waft of juicy berries. They are hard to discern, but will reward the patient drinker. The palate, again, continues to nail down the theme: Earthy peat and sea salt dominate here. Hints of citrus and light smoke keep me tuned into Lagavulin and Talisker. Late into the sip some sherry slides across the tongue in a malty and harsh rush. The high ABV really makes concentrating on nailing down flavors a chore. It’s just way too hot out of the bottle. Water is almost a necessity- and, yes- I hate that. The finish is spicy, salty and hot. A long, briny note resonates through your entire mouth and down into your belly. Think slamming back cold, raw oysters. Now, I love oysters- just not in my whisky. It’s a rough way to finish. Overall, this one is for hardcore islanders. Not the “love letter from Islay” whisky group- the “I’d rather be fishing off the coast of Islay during the winter”-type. This won’t keep you warm on a cold night at sea- it’ll have you on the bow screaming obscenities into the darkness as the boat crests and dives through the waves. If there’s ever been any truth to the statement “this’ll put hair on your chest, boy!” it’s meant for this whisky. You have been warned. 3.5-3.75 stars. Cheers.

I’ve been a GlenDronach fan for quite some time now. I’ve drank some of the youngest juice and some of the oldest juice from this Highland distillery. I haven’t been let down very often. This special release 14 year old was finished in virgin, American oak and carries a somewhat hefty price tag ($116). But, I gotta say- this ranks up there with one of the biggest surprise whiskies I’ve had. This stuff is glorious! The appearance is copper gold- you can tell it spent its first 12.5-13 years in some fine sherry casks. It makes thick legs thanks to the boosted ABV of 46% and it leaves behind small beads after you spin it around a bit. The nose is fine sherry and red fruits- all up in your grill. The ABV grabs your attention if you go in too close, but the sweet vanilla and fresh cut oak add a wonderful dimension that normally isn’t present in your typical ‘Dronach. The palate is sweet, red berries with a slight buttery tint that makes it feel extra rich and decadent. The oak is hotter than I expected, but it just feels right when it arrives. Mid sip turns mellow and sweet, with vanilla beans and sugary grapes. The mouthcoat is rich and creamy, like a great dessert. The finish lingers on a bit too long and ultimately finishes drier than I hoped, because of the overall richness- but it doesn’t necessarily wreck anything. A light butterscotch note clings to the tongue, too. Fabulous. Overall, this one tempted me to make room in my All Time Top 15- maybe even Top 10. The price tag is slightly high for a young-ish, age statement whisky- but exceptions can and should be made here. This is a delicious, specialty GlenDronach. Seek out a bottle while they are still floating around. If you spot it under $95-100 and don’t buy it you’re missing out on a deal. 4.5 stars, every day of the week. Cheers.

I purchased this bottle from a friend who is trying to thin out his whisky collection. This “Limited Release A” bottle has been considered one of the best Lowland style whiskies in existence. It’s bottled at a rather uninspiring 43% and is deep gold in the Glencairn. It slowly formed skinny legs and left behind some tiny beads of water around the rim after a lengthy swirl and time in the glass. The nose is typical Auchentoshan: honey and florals and not much else. It was very mellow with little to no barrel presence, either. I did get a hint of oak spice if I inhaled deeply enough, but overall, this was a shallow breather. The palate was also extremely mellow, oaky, but smooth at first. Some light berries and vanilla were left lingering behind on the tongue. Overall, this was a pretty boring sipping experience. There is also no heat due to the low ABV. The finish was short, lightly warming as you exhale with a bit of wood tannins and well-worn leather closing things out. In total, this bottle was a bust. I must say, however, that I wrote most of my notes while sipping on the last dram from the bottle about a month after opening it. I don’t recall it being this boring initially- or even as I worked my way down. I simply drank through it almost as a daily dram and was content to just use it as such. I can’t imagine it being worth the current $135+ asking price, nor the discounted $100 I paid. It’s solid, unoffending whisky that can be found elsewhere for much cheaper. The only thing you could’ve done with this bottle was brag about the age statement if you poured some for uninitiated friends or colleagues. Search elsewhere for higher quality. 2.75-3 stars.

Ardbeg Galileo is NOT space whisky. Repeat that over and over in your head, to your local bottle shop owner, to your co-workers that think they know more about whisky than you, to your beloved pet that you swear can communicate with you telepathically. Tell it to whomever spews that nonsense in your direction. The rumors behind this 2012 bottling from Ardbeg range from cosmonauts smuggling a bottle of Ardbeg 10 on a space flight to cases of the stuff being ordered by members of the international space station. None of it is true. This bottle is simply a celebration of the astronomer Galileo and Ardbeg helping a scientific study about the germination process of barley in zero gravity. They were contacted to supply a few pieces of grain for the experiment while maintaining the same grain here on Earth. Scientists wanted to monitor how things change in space. That’s it. The whisky specs are: 12 year old stock taken from first and second fill bourbon casks that’s blended with some Marsala wine cask finished juice. It’s non-chill filtered, but does have added coloring and was bottled at 49%. Current prices range anywhere from $215-$400, if you can find it. Is it worth it? In a word, yes. It’s a beautiful deep, copper gold with big, thick runny legs and heavy droplets. It looks very oily and drinks that way as well. The nose is typical peat smoke with a spicy backbone. There’s a slightly funky, soured and over-ripened vine fruit aspect that permeates the entire nosing. Raspberries and green grapes immediately came to mind as I nosed this thing for the better part of an hour (I got distracted during the session). The palate is a complex bit of sweet, salty and savory wine cask. There’s an oily and rich vanilla note from the bourbon cask stock and a distinct tobacco note. The smoke is surprisingly restrained here, but I think it actually helps the overall experience this way. This is a dessert whisky more than a smoky Ardbeg. The finish is long and sweet, oily and warming that turns spicy right at the very end. The smoke finally leaves its signature here. Smoky burn and spice that meld together perfectly. Overall, this is an incredible Ardbeg for its age. The entire space whisky talk is just a distraction. Buy this bottle and drink it. They whisky inside this bottle will take your tastebuds on a voyage that no space flight ever could. I found a couple bottles of this online out of The Netherlands for $215 and now I’m wishing I bought a few more- not to collect, but to savor. This is a beautiful Ardbeg. 4.5 stars. Cheers.

Well, I’ve been absent from reviewing whisky for a little over a month now: chalk it up to fatigue, being overworked or the fact that I want to ball up in the fetal position over the state of the US stock market and the devaluation of my 401k. Pick one, they’re all accurate. Anyway, I was digging through my pile of samples and spotted this pour that I received from John (over on the Barreled app), via @Generously_Paul: the Bushmill 21 year old Irish whiskey. This is from the 2015 Batch, bottle #5580 to be exact. It’s bottled at 40% and I’m not sure what the price point was- perhaps John can chime in here if he remembers. This sample was sent to me back in the early spring, so even he may have moved on. The appearance is copper gold and giving it a spin produces fat, quick-running legs and heavy droplets around the rim. Weirdly enough, it appears oily and watery at the same time. I suspect it’s the low ABV leaving this thing caught in between both. Oh well, how does it smell and taste? The nose is fantastic: red berries in the forefront with wafts of tropical fruits, honey, tea leaves left me smiling from ear to ear. A light, minty backbone sealed the deal with apples and faint oak. This is a damn fine Irish whiskey just to nose. The palate arrives with those same red berries on the tongue. Toffee and bittersweet chocolate threw me a delightful curveball by the mid sip point and it’s incredibly smooth and warming, even for 40%. The Barrel makes itself known at the tail end- which is always appropriate in my opinion. The finish is medium length, smooth and oily once again, with lingering oak notes before ultimately turning dry. It’s that dryness that makes you want to go back in. Ah, those crafty Irish lads: How do we make people drink more, they must’ve thought- make it dry at the very end- make ‘em thirsty again. Lol. Overall, this is amazing juice. You can tell it’s well aged and it has one of the better overall flavor profiles I’ve ever had in an Irish whiskey. A huge thanks to John for seeing that I get to try this incredible dram. I think I might need to source a full bottle for myself, regardless of price. It is that damn good. 4.75 stars. Cheers, my friends.

It’s time to visit an old favorite of mine. One that’s been reimagined with the new Viking theme that HP has embraced: the 18 year. Starting in 2017, Highland Park subtitled their world class 18 year old malt with the Viking Pride monicker. I don’t necessarily see the need to do this with their whisky, but hey- if the sauce is just as good who really cares? New packaging aside- a heavily sculptured glass bottle will probably add some cost to the price point, though. Is this the same juice that garners near-perfect scores on countless whisky review websites around the globe? Lets find out... The Viking Pride is still a beautiful, rich antique gold in color, it’s still oily and still makes large droplets and sparse, runny legs. It’s still bottled at 43%, it’s still yada yada yada. So far so good. The nose is heavily honeyed, with orchard fruits, vanilla and light smoke. There’s a fine, salty line running across the nose that I’m not sure I detected before but the worn oak and peppercorn is still there if you give it the appropriate time (I would argue a whisky needs a minimum of 1 minute per year of age to rest and release in your Glencairn). Give it plenty of swirls, twirls or gentle shakes to expedite the process if you’re in a hurry, I guess. The palate still brings the sweet peat and lightest BBQ smoke before coating the tongue with a wonderful, bitter dark chocolate wave. The mouthfeel is luscious although it does feel a bit lighter and more watered down than I recall from the older vintage. It’s not a deal breaker, and hell, I’ll freely admit it could be me just unconsciously trying to find something to dock points. So, take that comment with a grain of salt. The finish is definitely weaker than the older vintage, though. The smoke and vanilla don’t seem to stick around like it used to. It’s still a medium length, heavy breather, however. The lingering sherry sweetness still brings a smile to my face. Overall, this is still what you know and love from Highland Park. It’s delicious and satisfying- just like it’s predecessor. I guess if I gotta find a legitimate gripe- it’s price point. I had to pay about $20 more for this bottle than I do for the older vintage. This is also not considering the fact you can still find older bottlings collecting dust at some obscure stores and even online. So, with that in mind- I think I would recommend seeking those bottles out first, but don’t pass on a good deal if you can only get your hands on the Viking Pride. It’s still a classic, peated scotch. Thankfully, that hasn’t changed. 4.5 stars. Cheers, my friends.

Yet another Bunnahabhain Unpronounceable bottling: An Cladach, which translates as “The Shore” in Gaelic. This bottle is a travel retail exclusive that’s sold in 1 Liter size and is bottled at a robust 50% ABV. It’s light/amber gold and oily with runny legs in the taster. The nose is salty if you go in immediately after the pour. I had to wait this one out to get the subdued sherry notes, along with toffee and raisins. A lighter, chocolate and coffee grounds note formed the background noise here- with almost no perceptible barrel wood. The high ABV is also very well hidden. The palate hits hard with youthful spirit and a slight oaky harshness. The ABV sets the tone, but also seems to evaporate away and leave behind the perfect balance of sherry, roasted nuts and salty sea air. There’s a nice, briny note that you don’t often see with Bunna. It took me by a bit of a surprise, even though the name is telling me to be on the lookout. The light, milk chocolate also masks the tougher back end just enough to keep things in check. The finish is medium, and slightly on the weaker side- with the typical suspects playing a closing role: sherry sweetness, peppery oak and some red berries and cream. The extra oomph from the ABV causes everything to dry up rather quickly, but damn it’s still enjoyable. Overall, at $66 for a 1L bottle I have to say this is a really good deal. It’s another winning NAS formula from Bunnahabhain and I gotta point out that most of these crazy-named releases are really hitting the mark. Whatever they lack in smoothness and complexity they make up for in value and experimentation. This one is no different. I’m giving it 3.75 solid stars and a recommended “buy”. Cheers.

It’s time for another entry from The Unpronounceable Series (That there is trademarked, not to be used without written permission of Ricky Bobby, Inc.), from the fine fellows at Bunnahabhain Distillery: Stiuireadair (Gaelic for “helmsman”). This NAS whisky is deep copper with thin legs and watery drops. It’s bottled at 46.3% ABV. The nose is nicely sherried with a wonderful bouquet of vine ripened fruits, roasted nuts, caramel and spice cake. I get a little bit of Dr. Hahn’s Prune Candies, too. There’s no hint of oak or heat, though. The palate is also rich and surprisingly deep with sherry notes. It’s very spicy but not in a hot sense. It’s really luscious and smooth for being an NAS. The mouthcoat is light, but hearty- kinda like those really thin pancakes. There’s a faint salty abrasive aspect that catches you off guard at the tail end, but the official tasting notes talk of a salty characteristic- so it hits the mark. I just think it’s at a bit of an odd spot. The sweetness will slingshot you into the finish for the win, with the spiciness providing a lingering warmth. It finally comes to a close with a hearty, roasted almond flavor. It’s like a big, hairy, American winning machine- except it’s Scottish. Overall, it a solid dram. It’s one of the better unpeated, NAS bottles- in general. Now for the kicker- it’s only $46! That’s great VFM, my friends. It’ll keep you warm on those chilly, Talladega Nights. Seek this one out and snag an entire bottle- you won’t be disappointed (especially if you’re a Bunna fan). 4.25-4.5 stars. Cheers, and remember- if you’re not first, you’re last.

There was a time earlier in my scotch whisky drinking “career” when I was slightly obsessed with everything Dalmore, and even the Richard Paterson persona. I thought then (and still think to this day) that he’s a great whisky character. He’s a brilliant blender, whisky aficionado and spokesperson. So, when I came across this bottle while online shopping I knew I had to give it a try. The Corriemhor Cigar Reserve was Richard’s first attempt at making a cigar-pairing, blended whisky. He was employed by Whyte & Mackay back in the mid-2000’s and this is rumored to be his inspiration for the Dalmore Cigar Malt. The best part is that this can still be found for around $50 a bottle and this carries an age statement of 8 years. Good luck finding out how old the malt is in the Dalmore version, but don’t even think about finding it for anything close to $50. This one is bottled at 46% and is non-chill filtered, but I’m pretty sure there’s plenty of coloring added. It’s medium gold and an oily mess in the taster. Lots of medium sized drops and random, undefined legs swirl down and around the glass when it’s given a little spin. The nose is raisins, red berries, apples and cereal notes once you give it a little time to release. Fresh cut oak mingles well and provides a solid backbone. Toffee and caramel hang heavy all around the glass, as well. The palate is a fantastic sherry bomb. There’s butterscotch and chocolate covered oranges, fresh cut apples and more toffee sweetness well into mid sip. The mouthcoat is velvety, but still slightly watery while the 46% provides just the right amount of heat and bite. The finish is medium-long with welcome heat as the last of the liquid dissipates. It leaves a lingering sweetness before turning lightly bitter. It’s this very last bit that reveals the youth of the spirit involved, but it’s not harsh enough to turn you off. Overall, this is really what the Dalmore version should strive to be. The fact you can still find bottles of this online out of the UK is incredible. In fact, I recommend leaving the Dalmore Cigar Malt sitting on the shelves, save yourself $60+ and buy this one instead. It’s gets you to the same place for half the price. What’s not to like about that? 4-4.25 stars. Cheers.

I’ve had this bottle sitting in my collection for probably the better part of two years. I paid a pretty high price for it (~ $240) and I was expecting it to be pretty phenomenal. It advertised an in-house mix of 6 different styles of wine cask aged single malt, which Dalmore mastermind Richard Paterson concocted, and was supposed to be the epitome of Dalmore’s core range. It’s a beautiful (color added) mahogany and produced a ton of huge, watery and fat droplets in the Glencairn. It was watery and oily, but still clings to the sides for quite a while after you spin it. I groaned when I thought about the ABV: 40%. Oh boy... The nose is super fruity. Lots of wine cask influence here: sweetness, sugary notes and overall vine fruit. There’s an ever present caramel and toffee creme candy note hanging around, but there’s a nice dry oak presence and even some berries coming through after a little bit of time. Pleasant enough to start. The palate struck me as overly watery the instant it hit my tongue. It felt like there was nothing clinging to my tastebuds whatsoever. A hefty sherry and raspberry note materialized and it turned the mouth feel rather velvety. Some weak woody notes formed a solid backbone, but there’s just no heat at all. The finish is short-ish with a light effervescent quality and a nice, fine oak feel. There’s still no heat and I have to declare this a dessert dram of the highest caliber. Nothing else springs up in surprise and there’s really no lingering notes. It washes away painlessly- unlike a lot of other Dalmore offerings I’ve had to this point. That’s where this one wins me over- after having had the 12, 15, 18 and Cigar Malt I always balked at the harshness on the finish. Well, it’s finally gone with the King Alex. Even though this one has to be considered a pure dessert whisky, it’s still damn fine. 4.5 stars- and although I can’t say the value for your dollar is there, I’m not going to dock points because of it. This is a classically great Dalmore. Cheers, my friends.