Tastes

ISLAY SHOWDOWN 2: HEAVYWEIGHT DIVISION Laphroaig 15 200th Anniversary Edition vs Lagavulin 16 vs Lagavulin Distiller’s Edition In my last note, “NEW AND OLD ISLAY SHOWDOWN,” I envisioned a comparison between two old flames: Laphroaig 10 and Lagavulin 16. Then I thought the comparison wasn’t apples-to-apples due to the age difference, and I subbed the Lag16 with Lagavulin 8. So today, I bring out some big(ger) guns—all very close in age. Laphroaig 15 200th Anniversary Edition was a limited edition bottling (72,000 released) introduced on the 200th anniversary of Laphroaig’s founding in 1815 (Laphroaig previously had a 15-year-old whisky in its lineup which was discontinued). Lagavulin 16 needs no introduction. And the Lagavulin Distiller’s edition is Lag16 “double matured” and finished in PX sherry casks; this particular bottle is batch 4/507, distilled 2002, bottled 2018. Each is 43% ABV. Lagavulin 16 is, of course, an iconic whisky, and there’s nothing new that I’ll provide here. This is true to a lesser extent with the Distiller’s Edition. The Laphroaig 15 200th Anniversary Edition is a very limited bottling, and I hope to offer some vicarious insight. My primary purpose here is to build on my previous “Islay Showdown” note, share a side-by-side comparison, and have some fun in the process. Laphroaig 15 200th Anniversary Edition Color is lightest of the three; clear pale amber. Laphroaig’s tagline is “The most richly flavoured of all Scotch whiskies”; but this one, despite the increased age, is more subdued than its younger brother was last night. Fruity peach nose and some baking spices coupled with typical Islay notes of seaweed and smoky peat, with just a whiff of iodine. Peaks on the palate, where the mild 43% ABV punches above its weight. Gentle smoky peat with a touch of vanilla on the finish. In terms of intensity: mild nose, peaks midpalate, and mild finish. From a bourbon perspective, this is the Blanton’s or Elmer T. Lee of Islay whisky: seamless, refined, even subtle, but confident in what it is. And what it is it does very well. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. Lagavulin 16 Color is a tawny amber, deeper and somewhat darker than the Laph15. There’s little I can provide that isn’t already known about such an iconic whiskey, and if you’re reading this, you already this. For me, the nose is not particularly effusive, but swirling coaxes a host of aromas: along with Islay typicity, there is a citrus sweetness not unlike Licor 43, and even a tanginess that could pass for Heinz 57 (!). Smoky peat on the long finish. The same 43% ABV is not as noticeable as it was with the Laph15/200; this could be a function of the more mellow (though still very complex) tones of the Laph15/200, or the slightly more pronounced olfactory and flavor attributes of Lag16. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. Lagavulin Distiller’s Edition Darkest of the three due to the sherry cask finishing. On the nose, the sherry casks have a dampening (but not suppressing) effect on the seaweed, iodine, and smokey peat, adding complexity with hazelnut, dates, and some brown sugar. Despite being the same 43% ABV as the others, the heat is slightly more noticeable than its Lag16 sibling. Slightly weightier mouthfeel. Everything in balance, with more components. Just outstanding. For context: in the sherry-meets-Islay world, this is a Porsche 911 Turbo S in GT Silver Metallic, whereas Ardbeg Uigeadail is a Ferrari LaFerrari in Rosso Corsa: both incredible automobiles, but the former is more refined. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. If you’ve read this far, there’s really no winner here. This is not an “everyone gets a trophy” space—except it is, in this case. Each is phenomenal in its own right. These whiskies are not facsimilies of one another; there is diversity even in the confines of Islay whisky. On a value basis, Lag16 is the clear winner. It is widely available in the U.S. and can typically be found for around $90. The Distiller’s Edition has more limited production, and can be found for $110-120 in the U.S. The Laphroaig 15 200th Anniversary Edition was a limited edition, and can be found online for around $300 in the U.S. (I think I paid about a third of that a few years ago). While there are Islay-specific similarities between the three, they exhibit real differences, but no hard edges or deficiencies when tasted side-by-side. Each is deserving of contemplative, unadulterated consumption. Forget water; this is 43% ABV. Drink it neat. Nose it. Swirl it. Savor it. Enjoy it. Share it. And be thankful for it. In a word: Laphroaig 15/200: Peachy. Lagavulin 16: Outdoorsy. Lagavulin Distiller’s Edition: Urbane. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

ISLAY SHOWDOWN 2: HEAVYWEIGHT DIVISION Laphroaig 15 200th Anniversary Edition vs Lagavulin 16 vs Lagavulin Distiller’s Edition In my last note, “NEW AND OLD ISLAY SHOWDOWN,” I envisioned a comparison between two old flames: Laphroaig 10 and Lagavulin 16. Then I thought the comparison wasn’t apples-to-apples due to the age difference, and I subbed the Lag16 with Lagavulin 8. So today, I bring out some big(ger) guns—all very close in age. Laphroaig 15 200th Anniversary Edition was a limited edition bottling (72,000 released) introduced on the 200th anniversary of Laphroaig’s founding in 1815 (Laphroaig previously had a 15-year-old whisky in its lineup which was discontinued). Lagavulin 16 needs no introduction. And the Lagavulin Distiller’s edition is Lag16 “double matured” and finished in PX sherry casks; this particular bottle is batch 4/507, distilled 2002, bottled 2018. Each is 43% ABV. Lagavulin 16 is, of course, an iconic whisky, and there’s nothing new that I’ll provide here. This is true to a lesser extent with the Distiller’s Edition. The Laphroaig 15 200th Anniversary Edition is a very limited bottling, and I hope to offer some vicarious insight. My primary purpose here is to build on my previous “Islay Showdown” note, share a side-by-side comparison, and have some fun in the process. Laphroaig 15 200th Anniversary Edition Color is lightest of the three; clear pale amber. Laphroaig’s tagline is “The most richly flavoured of all Scotch whiskies”; but this one, despite the increased age, is more subdued than its younger brother was last night. Fruity peach nose and some baking spices coupled with typical Islay notes of seaweed and smoky peat, with just a whiff of iodine. Peaks on the palate, where the mild 43% ABV punches above its weight. Gentle smoky peat with a touch of vanilla on the finish. In terms of intensity: mild nose, peaks midpalate, and mild finish. From a bourbon perspective, this is the Blanton’s or Elmer T. Lee of Islay whisky: seamless, refined, even subtle, but confident in what it is. And what it is it does very well. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. Lagavulin 16 Color is a tawny amber, deeper and somewhat darker than the Laph15. There’s little I can provide that isn’t already known about such an iconic whiskey, and if you’re reading this, you already this. For me, the nose is not particularly effusive, but swirling coaxes a host of aromas: along with Islay typicity, there is a citrus sweetness not unlike Licor 43, and even a tanginess that could pass for Heinz 57 (!). Smoky peat on the long finish. The same 43% ABV is not as noticeable as it was with the Laph15/200; this could be a function of the more mellow (though still very complex) tones of the Laph15/200, or the slightly more pronounced olfactory and flavor attributes of Lag16. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. Lagavulin Distiller’s Edition Darkest of the three due to the sherry cask finishing. On the nose, the sherry casks have a dampening (but not suppressing) effect on the seaweed, iodine, and smokey peat, adding complexity with hazelnut, dates, and some brown sugar. Despite being the same 43% ABV as the others, the heat is slightly more noticeable than its Lag16 sibling. Slightly weightier mouthfeel. Everything in balance, with more components. Just outstanding. For context: in the sherry-meets-Islay world, this is a Porsche 911 Turbo S in GT Silver Metallic, whereas Ardbeg Uigeadail is a Ferrari LaFerrari in Rosso Corsa: both incredible automobiles, but the former is more refined. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. If you’ve read this far, there’s really no winner here. This is not an “everyone gets a trophy” space—except it is, in this case. Each is phenomenal in its own right. These whiskies are not facsimilies of one another; there is diversity even in the confines of Islay whisky. On a value basis, Lag16 is the clear winner. It is widely available in the U.S. and can typically be found for around $90. The Distiller’s Edition has more limited production, and can be found for $110-120 in the U.S. The Laphroaig 15 200th Anniversary Edition was a limited edition, and can be found online for around $300 in the U.S. (I think I paid about a third of that a few years ago). While there are Islay-specific similarities between the three, they exhibit real differences, but no hard edges or deficiencies when tasted side-by-side. Each is deserving of contemplative, unadulterated consumption. Forget water; this is 43% ABV. Drink it neat. Nose it. Swirl it. Savor it. Enjoy it. Share it. And be thankful for it. In a word: Laphroaig 15/200: Peachy. Lagavulin 16: Outdoorsy. Lagavulin Distiller’s Edition: Urbane. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

NEW AND OLD ISLAY SHOWDOWN: Lagavulin 8 vs Laphroaig 10 I cut my teeth on Lagavulin and Laphroaig decades ago. Since then, I’ve explored the myriad flavor profiles that Scotch whisky offers but have always come back to these two—my first loves. I was in the mood this evening to revisit these classic bottlings. But Laphroaig 10 is six years younger than Lagavulin 16; thus I thought a more appropriate comparison with Laph10 would be Lagavulin 8, which is a fairly new addition to the Lagavulin lineup, introduced in 2016 to celebrate the distillery’s 200th anniversary. Lagavulin 8 Light straw color. Nose shows Cheerios, bread dough, saline, low-tide seaweed stones, light smoky peat, the briefest whiff of bacon fat, nectarine, and a little honey. Fruitiness even more forward on the palate with nectarine appearing for a second act, along with a smooth mouthfeel, and some heat (higher than normal 48% ABV). Long finish has characteristic Islay typicity with some iodine and the same light smoky peat from the front end. Good, but it feels like it’s reaching for the Lagavulin 16 that has been seared (or soaked) into my brain over the years. 3.5 on the Distiller scale. Laphroaig 10 Clear gold. Sweet smoky peat; not just iodine, but the whole medicine cabinet; Italian speck; some vanilla; some pomander; some dates; and some more. Smoother on the palate than the Lag8, with noticeably lighter heat (43% ABV); did I mention rum raisin ice cream? It’s all there. Long, long finish. As traditional as Laphroaig 10 is, it would benefit from more ABV when tasted next to the Lag8. A cerebral, introspective dram that cries out for the Mad Men days of dark suits, white shirts, cigar smoke, and a mahogany bar with a brass footrail at an old-school steakhouse (I’m thinking Sparks in NYC). 4.25 on the Distiller scale. The Lag8 complements the older Lag16 (and the Distiller’s Edition) in the Lagavulin lineup: it is more youthful and ostentatious than the Laph10, which shows more complexity and refinement in comparison. The Lag8 is not dissimilar to Oban Little Bay in terms of its in-your-face youthfulness in the brand’s offerings. New or old, Islay afficionados will find plenty to like with both. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

NEW AND OLD ISLAY SHOWDOWN: Lagavulin 8 vs Laphroaig 10 I cut my teeth on Lagavulin and Laphroaig decades ago. Since then, I’ve explored the myriad flavor profiles that Scotch whisky offers but have always come back to these two—my first loves. I was in the mood this evening to revisit these classic bottlings. But Laphroaig 10 is six years younger than Lagavulin 16; thus I thought a more appropriate comparison with Laph10 would be Lagavulin 8, which is a fairly new addition to the Lagavulin lineup, introduced in 2016 to celebrate the distillery’s 200th anniversary. Lagavulin 8 Light straw color. Nose shows Cheerios, bread dough, saline, low-tide seaweed stones, light smoky peat, the briefest whiff of bacon fat, nectarine, and a little honey. Fruitiness even more forward on the palate with nectarine appearing for a second act, along with a smooth mouthfeel, and some heat (higher than normal 48% ABV). Long finish has characteristic Islay typicity with some iodine and the same light smoky peat from the front end. Good, but it feels like it’s reaching for the Lagavulin 16 that has been seared (or soaked) into my brain over the years. 3.5 on the Distiller scale. Laphroaig 10 Clear gold. Sweet smoky peat; not just iodine, but the whole medicine cabinet; Italian speck; some vanilla; some pomander; some dates; and some more. Smoother on the palate than the Lag8, with noticeably lighter heat (43% ABV); did I mention rum raisin ice cream? It’s all there. Long, long finish. As traditional as Laphroaig 10 is, it would benefit from more ABV when tasted next to the Lag8. A cerebral, introspective dram that cries out for the Mad Men days of dark suits, white shirts, cigar smoke, and a mahogany bar with a brass footrail at an old-school steakhouse (I’m thinking Sparks in NYC). 4.25 on the Distiller scale. The Lag8 complements the older Lagavulin 16 (and the Distiller’s Edition): it is more youthful and ostentatious than the Laph10, which shows more complexity and refinement in comparison. The Lag8 is not dissimilar to Oban Little Bay in terms of its in-your-face youthfulness in the brand’s lineup. New or old, Islay afficionados will find plenty to like with both. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

I don't drink this whisky often enough because I've only ever seen this one bottle in the wild, but boy do I enjoy it. Almost half gone now. Clear, orange-tinted gold (no coloring added). Energetic nose of gentle smoky peat, buttered pancakes, a touch of caramel, cardamom, and pears canned in syrup. This sweetness continues on the palate, with a weighty, glycerin mouthfeel and noticeable, but pleasant, heat. Finishes where it started, with long, lingering smoky peat. Full-throttle out of the gate and doesn't take its foot off the gas. The syrupy pears and gentle smoky peat suggests Oban Little Bay on steroids. Alternatively, if Oban Little Bay and Ardbeg Uigeidial had a love child, this is it. Aged in 70% ex-bourbon casks and 30% ex-sherry casks: perhaps the former is responsible for the touch of caramel on the nose. Wonderful. 46% ABV. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

I waxed Dickensian in my just-finished review of Yamazaki 12: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." In that case, I was happy that my inventory told me I had two bottles, but depressed that I couldn't find one of them. With Blue Ridge Whiskey, it is the same Dickensian dichotomy, differently: my memory of the Y12 just several minutes ago was the best of times in comparison to my current tasting of Blue Ridge Whiskey Georgia Sour Mash. Apple juice color. Unfortunately, not apple-juice descriptors (beyond the color). My initial thought on nosing is "old country gas station": this is not pejorative per se--I love the smell of old gas stations--but it's not what one expects from any bottle purporting to be "whiskey." I also get pine sawdust. Again, this is merely incongruous rather than damning. I love sawdust (conifer- or deciduous-derived). There is a rivulet of vanilla begging for attention; but whether this is from oak or a splash of A&W cream soda from the gas station's rusty red fridge is anyone's guess. The palate also conjures bucolic imagery, but different geography: not Georgia, but Tuscany. I'm talking about grappa, which is just a fancy name for Italian moonshine. At 86 proof, this "whiskey" would need to have its proof doubled to get into moonshine territory--I've had it--but the bitter bite is not dissimilar. Never did a spring-fed creek or a bottle of Pellegrino look so appealing. As an expat Southerner living up North, I have this bottle on the mantle in my barn more for decoration than drinking. But one cannot appreciate good without knowing its evil twin. And sometimes, a little evil ain't bad. 2.0 on the Distiller scale; double that for those searching for _Porky's_ terroir. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

Charles Dickens began _A Tale of Two Cities_ thusly: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” And so it is this evening with my Yamazaki 12. My Distiller app shows that I have two bottles in inventory (additionally, I remember all of my bottles). I have one of the older bottles in the off-white box, which had already been opened, as well as an unopened bottle in the newer, dark box. And each was purchased for less than $100 (I see them occasionally for $200+). That’s the good news. The bad news is that I’m unable to find the older, opened bottle—and that never happens! So I reluctantly opened the newer bottle. First-world problems, I know. Clear amber. Nose of warm pineapple upside-down cake and peach cobbler, with both fruity and bready components. Inviting palate, neither thin nor overtly viscous, but gently trending toward the latter. A bit austere on the back end. 43% ABV. I’ve had each of Suntory’s 12-year old single malts: Hakushu, Hibiki, and Yamazaki. Of course, Hibiki 12 is no longer available. I purchased several before the supply ran out. H12 had an incredible candied orange nose and didn’t stop through the palate to the finish; it was also more weighty in the mouth. I say this given the Yamazaki craziness in the market—I suppose some of that may be due to the unavailability of H12—but offhand, I think I prefer the NAS Hibiki Harmony to the Y12. (I’m out of the former at the moment and should do a side-by-side tasting). The Y12 peaks on the nose, and is a gentle downhill from there. Good, not great, and there are certainly better values in Japanese whisky. I much prefer Nikka Whisky From The Barrel, which is significantly higher ABV (51.4% vs Y12 43.0%), wonderfully complex, more widely available (in CT, my neck of the woods), and generally over $100 less. 3.75 on the Distiller scale. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

My first acquaintance with High West Distillery was with an earlier version of this brand, “A Midwinter Night’s Dram”, which is released in “Acts” (same per year) and “Scenes” (various bottlings in the same year, or “Act”). This particular bottle is Act 5, Scene 2, which was released in 2017. AMND 5.2 is a rye blend sourced from MGP, in addition to High West’s own distillate (the percent of each is not disclosed). The brand is a play on Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and as much as I love Shakespeare, you can read about that on the website. I discovered via a quick Internet search that this bottle, if you can find it, is selling for around $300. I bought mine (which this note just polished off) for about $70 if memory serves, sometime three or four years ago. High West was purchased by Constellation Brands in 2016 for $160 million. Dark tawny burnt orange color. Interesting nose shows rye, Chinese five spice, cardamom, cherries, cocoa, and vanilla, finishing with spearmint: but these aromas have to be coaxed out over several minutes—at least for me. While the different descriptors suggest complexity, it is a subtle complexity rather than rather than a kaleidoscopic one. AMND 5.2 is easy drinking at 98.6 proof: it offers a smooth, mouthcoating entry, with a touch of well-integrated back-end heat. The nose shows promise, but the ride is a bit downhill through palate and finish, where there is a very slight bitterness. Overall, good, not great. 3.75 on the Distiller scale. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in separate Glencairn glasses.

A few years back (2016 to be exact), I was a big Booker’s drinker. Not "big" in the sense of too much, but rather as a fawning fanboy obsessed with the nuances of each release. I purchased each and every one: “Maw Maw’s Batch” (2015-02), “Annis’ Answer” (2016-02), “Toogie’s Invitation” (2016-03), “Bluegill Creek” (2016-04), and others. Then I got on an Elijah Craig Barrel Proof kick (and I still love ECBP)—but unfortunately I did not realize that the two bourbons needed to be mutually exclusive. ECBP satisfied by high-proof desires. I’ve had Booker’s “Beaten Biscuits” (2019-04) for over two years and it’s only 25% gone. I haven’t had it in at least 18 months. It clocks in at 126.1 proof, and is aged for 6 years, 6 months, and 19 days. What would the 18-day or 20-day version be like? We’ll never know. Presents as deep, clear, dark mahogany—darker than I’d expect for a bourbon that is less than seven years old. Fragrant, rich, distinctive nose shows cardamom, brown sugar, rye, some camphor, and some ethanol—expected for 126.1 proof. While viscosity is typically reserved as a descriptor for mouthfeel or palate, the smell itself has a viscous, pervasive quality. This glycerin-like quality continues on entry, where spice is present not just as heat but also flavor, like thai chilies. There is a subtle, espresso-y bitterness on the finish that comes across as complex rather than deleterious. My love affair with Booker’s is officially renewed, even if the average price seems to have increased 75%+ since I was buying it regularly a few years back. Upon pouring, a warm volcanic perfume was immediately apparent, and the first sip confirmed the full-on sensory assault. Booker’s “Beaten Biscuits” is not for the faint of heart, but it is for the bourbon connoisseur who wants a full-throttle yet cerebral bourbon that can be savored for an hour or more. A must-have on the shelf. 4.5+ on the Distiller scale. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in separate Glencairn glasses.

Dark mahogany color (it’s unclear if coloring has been added). Pleasant, though disjointed, nose shows brown sugar, cocoa powder, peanut brittle, oak, and ethanol—which is out of balance. Palate has a lot of heat (119.8 proof), adding leather and pipe tobacco, before finishing with more heat. There is a subtle, lingering bitterness. The overall impression is one of unrealized potential: the nose has some appealing aspects, but lacks the depth, complexity, and richness to offset the heat. This is likely due in some part to its young age (addressed below), and not simply to its high proof; other bourbons such as Elijah Craig Barrel Proof and Stagg Jr. excel at integrating the high heat. Penelope sources their bourbon from MGP in Indiana. Batch 02 is bottled at 119.8 proof, and is a blend of three sourced bourbons: 4% corn bourbon, 91% rye bourbon, and 5% wheat bourbon. It is unclear what exactly these terms mean, as all bourbon must by definition be (among other things) at least 51% corn. Even as mashbill descriptors: what is “corn bourbon”? (Not the same as “corn whiskey”). What is “rye bourbon”? There is high-rye bourbon, low-rye bourbon, even medium-rye bourbon, and no-rye bourbon. Rye whiskey must be at least 51% rye, and 91% of this blend is stated to be “rye bourbon,” not “rye whiskey.” This is not pedantry, but rather fundamental, foundational definitions. The distillate is aged 3-5 years. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in separate Glencairn glasses.