Tastes

DISTILLER-SCORE SHOWDOWN: 96-POINT DISTILLER-RATED WHISKIES COMPASS BOX HEDONISM BOWMORE 18-YEAR LAPHROAIG 10-YEAR LAPHROAIG 15-YEAR 200TH ANNIVERSARY LAGAVULIN DISTILLER’S EDITION TALISKER 10-YEAR (Caveat lector: somewhat unexpectedly, this became a long-form review.) In my never-ending quest to educate my own palate and attempt to both explore the aesthetics of whisk(e)y and quantify qualitative scoring, I’ve been thinking about different Showdown possibilities. For this one, I decided to rank my collection by the Distiller “expert” score in descending order (@distiller, @stephaniemoreno, why am I able to do this on the app, but not on the website?), and start from there. Currently, I have one 97-point bottle (the Compass Box, which met its emptiness at this tasting), and five 96-pointers, so I grouped them all together. As a result, this Showdown (and others like it that I plan to do in the future) will usually not be an apples-to-apples comparison: first, there are different reviewers providing the official Distiller scores. Second, the scores are given irrespective of type: in this current grouping, all are Scotch whiskies: the Compass Box is a blended grain whisky, and the other five are single malts, and (coincidentally?) happen to be Islay. But as I continue doing this type of Showdown, a group might include Irish and Japanese whiskey, American bourbon, Scotch whisky, and the like. How do high scores stack up against one another as far as different types of whiskies are concerned? A thoughtful tasting of six whiskies is no small challenge. From a combinatorial perspective, this is an “n-choose-k” problem. To simply compare two whiskies side-by-side in a set of six, there are 15 possible combinations. Choosing three from six results in 20 different combinations. Suffice to say, the empirical analysis (or ”work”) behind this Showdown will surely take a few days (I’m aiming for three). I plan to sample three whiskies on consecutive nights, with brief notes on each, and then all six on the final night. Very small pours, I assure you. Let’s get started. COMPASS BOX HEDONISM Pale straw color (Pantone 121); clearly no added coloring. Fruity nose with papaya, a little grapefruit, and tangerines, as well as marzipan, a little tanginess, and vanilla. The mouthfeel shows gobs of glycerin, and oaky vanilla notes become predominant on the palate. There’s the tiniest pinch of white pepper on the back end, and then the finish is more vanilla, with some of that woody tannic bitterness I noticed on my last review. If “hedonism” is just another word for “vanilla bomb,” then Compass Box Hedonism nails it. And in case you couldn’t ferret that out, fear not: the words “RICH—VANILLA—ALLURING” shout it out to you in ALL CAPS right on the front label. This vanilla is exacerbated when tasted following any of the other whiskies in this Showdown. Per my review on 10/11/23, 30% of this whisky is 20 years old, and over 9% is 26 years old, all from first-fill bourbon casks, so the vanilla is perhaps unsurprising given the long wood contact. This Compass Box expression can be found for ~$120. Would I buy it again? No. 2.5 on the Distiller scale (unchanged from my 11/11/23 review). 43% ABV. Non chill filtered. No added coloring. Series MMXVI-C. BOWMORE 18-YEAR Color is a clear russet mahogany (Pantone 153). Nose shows the sherry influence with dates, rugelach, brown sugar, and cocoa over a foundation of more typical Islay peat, smoke, iodine, salt, band-aid, and seaweed. These same sweet and savory notes continue on the palate, with well-integrated alcohol (not difficult considering the hoi polloi 43% ABV). The medium-length finish continues with a straightforward version of the same sweet and savory elements. Bowmore 18 competes with (and compares to) other sherry-cask-finished Islay scotches like Lagavulin Distiller’s Edition and Ardbeg Uigeadail. But the Lagavulin DE has the B18 beat on the sweet and the peat, and while the Oogie lacks an age statement, it’s in a completely different league in terms of power and complexity, offering a richer, more satisfying experience than the B18. But wait, you might say: what if I prefer less-ostentatious, more gentle whiskies rather than cask strength ones? There’s a difference between a whisky that is elegant and refined versus one which has a not-dissimilar gentleness but lacks complexity. The Laphroaig 15-year 200th Anniversary Edition is an exemplar of the former, whereas the Bowmore 18 is part of the latter group. It’s not a powerful whisky, which is a matter of preference, but it lacks the elegance and complexity of the L15. And you might say: “But the L15 is a special release; it’s not the same thing.” To which I’d reply: “exactly.” And that’s the point. They are scored at 96 points. Ultimately it begs the question: why? I’d certainly drink the Bowmore 18 again, but in my collection, there’s little reason for me to think “Hmm, I think I’ll have that Bowmore 18 tonight” given so many other choices. I do not mean that in a haughty way. But when one has worked their way through literally hundreds of different whiskies—including many in side-by-side Showdown format—the interesting ones become apparent, especially when price is considered. B18 can be purchased for around $150. It’s nice, but not “special” nice. Not 96-point nice. I’m happy to have had a bottle for empirical purposes, but would I buy it again? No. 3.5 on the Distiller scale (up from 3.0 on my 10/3/23 review). 43% ABV. 18-year age statement. Chill-filtered. Coloring added (E150a). LAPHROAIG 10-YEAR Clear and non-adulterated straw color (Pantone 143). Nose shows peat smoke, kelp, iodine, Band Aid, bacon fat, sage, fresh figs, white pepper, apple, speck, and orange marmalade. The palate has a fig and honeyed sweetness, and if you didn’t know better you’d swear that you’d have just licked the slicked seasoning of a cast-iron griddle after years of service. Mild alcohol given the cornucopia of flavors (this needs a higher proof, and the Cask Strength version delivers on that point), and the finish is long with some light fruity elements and both peat smoke and ash. Laphroaig 10 is an iconic Islay whiskey that is readily available for around $50. While the “burning hospital” flavor profile can be somewhat polarizing, this is one of the most complex whiskies out there and represents one of the best values in all of whiskyland. Would I buy it again? Damn right I would. 4.5 on the Distiller scale (up from 4.25 on my 11/17/23 review). Somewhat tangentially: how is it that Laphroaig 10, as good as it is, is ranked by Distiller two to four points higher than various numbered batches of its Cask Strength older brother, which is a purer and inherently more complex form of the junior version? This is in part a rhetorical questions, but it is a question worth asking. I poured some Cask Strength Batch 13 to compare, and if Laphroaig is 96 points, then the Cask Strength should be eve higher. 43% ABV. 10-year age statement. Coloring added (E150a). LAPHROAIG 15-YEAR 200TH ANNIVERSARY Bright amber (Pantone 123). Nose shows cocoa powder, honey, gardenia, apple crumble, gentle peat, scones with strawberry jam, iodine, kombu, nori, damp cardboard box, smoke. On the palate, it’s light on its feet, with some of the same honeyed sweetness from the nose, followed by white pepper, salt, copious ash, and lingering smoked meat on the finish. L15 is sophisticated, graceful, and wonderfully complex. Because of its scarcity as a limited release, online prices now range from $500 to $1,000. Would I buy it again? Yes, at the price I originally paid (a little more than $100, if memory serves). I’m fortunate (and happy) to have it. 4.5 on the Distiller scale (unchanged from my 11/17/23 review). 43% ABV. 15-year age statement. Coloring added (E150a). LAGAVULIN DISTILLER’S EDITION Deep orange amber (Pantone 139), darker than the L15. Dates, raisins, prunes, banana baby food, Frangelico, milk chocolate, and a whiff of vanilla on the nose, all covering the typical Lag16 kelp and iodine notes, as well as some Sharpie, like a thin blanket—the Lag16 typicity is there, but underneath the covers. The palate greets you with a hit of brown-sugar simple syrup, and then the blanket is removed, revealing classic Lag16 notes of kelp, iodine, and smoke. Some white pepper, brief brown sugar, and lingering smoke on the finish. From nose to finish, LDE moves from sweet to peat. This is a far more sophisticated and elegant example of marrying Islay malts with sherry casks than either Bowmore 18 or Ardbeg’s Uigeadail (not part of this tasting due to its Distiller score, but I did pour a tiny bit for comparative purposes). Lagavulin Distiller’s Edition can be had for around $110. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.25 on the Distiller scale (down from 4.5 on my 7/29/22 review). 43% ABV. 16-year age statement. Batch lgv. 4/507. Coloring added (E150a). TALISKER 10-YEAR Clear burnt orange amber (Pantone 138). Cotton-candy-like sweetness. Grape Kool-Aid drink mix. Powdered cocoa. Apple pie and a little smoke. Smoky peat and BBQ sauce. Oily mouthfeel; more viscous than the L15 and LDE. Honey and concentrated pear extract on the palate. White pepper, honeyed biscuits (American, not English), brown-sugared oatmeal, and smoky peat on the finish. Talisker 10 has always been one of my favorite Scotch whiskies. That opinion is reinforced here. It’s more powerful and more youthful than any of the whiskies to this point—yet despite its relative youth, still very complex. Talisker 10 can be purchased for around $65. Would I buy it again? Yes. I don’t have a choice. Incredible value. 4.25 on the Distiller scale (up from 4.0 on my 10/11/23 review). 45.8% ABV. 10-year age statement. Coloring added (E150a). E150a RANT I’m beginning to learn more about E150a, which is caramel coloring that distillers often add to whisky to enhance appearance (see https://whiskipedia.com/fundamentals/spirit-caramel). There is zero—zero—reason why an ostensibly high-end whisky with an age statement should have artificial coloring. On a prior review of Bowmore 18 (10/3/23), I wrote: “the added coloring is for all intents and purposes lying. What is the point? What is there to hide? What is the rationale?” None of these whiskies are bottom-shelf. Their target market is the whisky connoisseur. Tradition and simplicity and rules are what make Scotch whisky what it is: it is made from only cereal grains, water, and yeast; must be matured at least 3 years in oak casks; etc. (specifics: https://www.scotch-whisky.org.uk/insights/protecting-scotch-whisky/legal-protection-in-the-uk/). Neither extra flavoring nor sweetening is allowed. Why then is coloring? If a whisky is dark (like Edradour 10, which uses no coloring), I want to know that it’s dark because of the natural cask maturation process—NOT because it’s being “faked.” Germany requires full ingredient disclosure for whisky sold there, including whether or not E150a is added. So you can go to a site such as https://www.scoma.de (there is an option to select German or English, but there’s no reason to select English if you don’t know German because the disclosure language is in German); type in a whisky like “Lagavulin”; select the “Produktdetails” (German) or “Product Details” (English), and then the German “Farbstoff” or the English “Coloring”, and then you’ll see (in German, regardless of what language is selected) if coloring is added or not. “Yes” is ” Ja, Zuckerkulör E150a”, and “No” is “Nein.” I believe strongly that serious consumers of high-end whisky want the truth—that is, what is “real.” Springbank whiskies are typically of a light color. Why? Because they do not use coloring. And no serious whisky lover rejects them on that basis. Compass Box also sells expensive whisky that has no added coloring, and no one rejects them on that basis. Why do Bowmore (the 18 is fairly dark) and Laphroaig (less so) and Lagavulin add color in varying degrees? It’s fraudulent. And from an economic perspective: one less ingredient is one less cost. Why are these distillers trying to pull the wool over our eyes? If there’s still one reader who has made it this far, weigh in in the comments! CONCLUSION What’s in a rating? Goodness or beauty or merit are each in the eye of the beholder—to an extent. No scoring system or methodology is perfect; however, many if not most can be improved. For example: Distiller uses something akin to a 0-100 scale for its official scores, whereas users are restricted to zero to five in quarter-point increments, and while the community score can get more granular when averaged across numerous users, it is still not aligned with the Distiller score, and should be (@distiller @stephaniemoreno there’s no reason to have two different scoring systems here). Further, for either system: what’s the rationale and methodology? Most 0-100 scales, like school grades, are inflated; in practice, they typically range from perhaps 60 to 100 (meanwhile, Distiller users do employ the entire range of its separate rating system). And in either system, how are the rankings comprised? There are numerous ways it could be done: 33% for nose, 33% for palate, 33% for finish; or adding something for relative value, etc. While this may sound constricting, it’s superior to the chaos of allowing anyone to do it however they want. The benefit of imposing some structure is that while some will ignore it, others would embrace it, which would facilitate better apples-to-apples comparisons. This isn’t a pedantic point. In this Showdown, two whiskies are outliers relative to the others: the Compass Box Hedonism and the Bowmore 18. The Compass Box is monolithic by its own admission (VANILLA shouted on the label), and I concur. It’s not that the whisky is bad in and of itself. But one-dimensional whisky, or nearly so—especially expensive one-dimensional whisky—isn’t worthy of 96 points. Aside from the quite-old whisky in the blend, there isn’t anything to justify its super-premium price. John Glaser is to be admired for his transparency; the disclosure of the specifics of the blend is amazing, and this forthrightness should be an example for all producers. The same goes for the fact that there’s no added caramel coloring (E150a). But that doesn’t change the way the whisky drinks. The Bowmore 18 is more egregious that the others in this Showdown with its darker artificial coloring. There are better, and cheaper, whiskies in the same style; there’s no “must-have” aspect for a whisky that is rated 96 points by Distiller and retails for $150. The others are exceptional for different reasons. The Laphroaig 10 represents tremendous value for its “burning hospital meets beehive” complexity at a $50 price tag. The Laphroaig 15 200th Anniversary Edition is a fine exemplar of restraint and grace—not simplicity—with the added benefit of a 15-year age statement. The Lagavulin Distiller’s Edition strikes the sweet/peat balance better than the Bowmore 18, with a sophistication above another offering in that same space—Ardbeg Uigeadail (which was sampled in this tasting for comparison, but not reviewed because while I do own it, it is not scored 96 or better by Distiller). And finally, the Talisker 10 also represents tremendous value for a youthful, more powerful Islay that has both sweet and peat characteristics that attack your senses, offering intellectual and hedonistic pleasure. These four are winners in this Showdown for different reasons, and are worthy of a high Distiller score. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass. (N.B.: This review in its entirety is posted for each of the whiskies that are tasted, for the purpose of comparison and context; the reviews are in the same order that the whiskies are listed in at the top.)

DISTILLER-SCORE SHOWDOWN: 96-POINT DISTILLER-RATED WHISKIES COMPASS BOX HEDONISM BOWMORE 18-YEAR LAPHROAIG 10-YEAR LAPHROAIG 15-YEAR 200TH ANNIVERSARY LAGAVULIN DISTILLER’S EDITION TALISKER 10-YEAR (Caveat lector: somewhat unexpectedly, this became a long-form review.) In my never-ending quest to educate my own palate and attempt to both explore the aesthetics of whisk(e)y and quantify qualitative scoring, I’ve been thinking about different Showdown possibilities. For this one, I decided to rank my collection by the Distiller “expert” score in descending order (@distiller, @stephaniemoreno, why am I able to do this on the app, but not on the website?), and start from there. Currently, I have one 97-point bottle (the Compass Box, which met its emptiness at this tasting), and five 96-pointers, so I grouped them all together. As a result, this Showdown (and others like it that I plan to do in the future) will usually not be an apples-to-apples comparison: first, there are different reviewers providing the official Distiller scores. Second, the scores are given irrespective of type: in this current grouping, all are Scotch whiskies: the Compass Box is a blended grain whisky, and the other five are single malts, and (coincidentally?) happen to be Islay. But as I continue doing this type of Showdown, a group might include Irish and Japanese whiskey, American bourbon, Scotch whisky, and the like. How do high scores stack up against one another as far as different types of whiskies are concerned? A thoughtful tasting of six whiskies is no small challenge. From a combinatorial perspective, this is an “n-choose-k” problem. To simply compare two whiskies side-by-side in a set of six, there are 15 possible combinations. Choosing three from six results in 20 different combinations. Suffice to say, the empirical analysis (or ”work”) behind this Showdown will surely take a few days (I’m aiming for three). I plan to sample three whiskies on consecutive nights, with brief notes on each, and then all six on the final night. Very small pours, I assure you. Let’s get started. COMPASS BOX HEDONISM Pale straw color (Pantone 121); clearly no added coloring. Fruity nose with papaya, a little grapefruit, and tangerines, as well as marzipan, a little tanginess, and vanilla. The mouthfeel shows gobs of glycerin, and oaky vanilla notes become predominant on the palate. There’s the tiniest pinch of white pepper on the back end, and then the finish is more vanilla, with some of that woody tannic bitterness I noticed on my last review. If “hedonism” is just another word for “vanilla bomb,” then Compass Box Hedonism nails it. And in case you couldn’t ferret that out, fear not: the words “RICH—VANILLA—ALLURING” shout it out to you in ALL CAPS right on the front label. This vanilla is exacerbated when tasted following any of the other whiskies in this Showdown. Per my review on 10/11/23, 30% of this whisky is 20 years old, and over 9% is 26 years old, all from first-fill bourbon casks, so the vanilla is perhaps unsurprising given the long wood contact. This Compass Box expression can be found for ~$120. Would I buy it again? No. 2.5 on the Distiller scale (unchanged from my 11/11/23 review). 43% ABV. Non chill filtered. No added coloring. Series MMXVI-C. BOWMORE 18-YEAR Color is a clear russet mahogany (Pantone 153). Nose shows the sherry influence with dates, rugelach, brown sugar, and cocoa over a foundation of more typical Islay peat, smoke, iodine, salt, band-aid, and seaweed. These same sweet and savory notes continue on the palate, with well-integrated alcohol (not difficult considering the hoi polloi 43% ABV). The medium-length finish continues with a straightforward version of the same sweet and savory elements. Bowmore 18 competes with (and compares to) other sherry-cask-finished Islay scotches like Lagavulin Distiller’s Edition and Ardbeg Uigeadail. But the Lagavulin DE has the B18 beat on the sweet and the peat, and while the Oogie lacks an age statement, it’s in a completely different league in terms of power and complexity, offering a richer, more satisfying experience than the B18. But wait, you might say: what if I prefer less-ostentatious, more gentle whiskies rather than cask strength ones? There’s a difference between a whisky that is elegant and refined versus one which has a not-dissimilar gentleness but lacks complexity. The Laphroaig 15-year 200th Anniversary Edition is an exemplar of the former, whereas the Bowmore 18 is part of the latter group. It’s not a powerful whisky, which is a matter of preference, but it lacks the elegance and complexity of the L15. And you might say: “But the L15 is a special release; it’s not the same thing.” To which I’d reply: “exactly.” And that’s the point. They are scored at 96 points. Ultimately it begs the question: why? I’d certainly drink the Bowmore 18 again, but in my collection, there’s little reason for me to think “Hmm, I think I’ll have that Bowmore 18 tonight” given so many other choices. I do not mean that in a haughty way. But when one has worked their way through literally hundreds of different whiskies—including many in side-by-side Showdown format—the interesting ones become apparent, especially when price is considered. B18 can be purchased for around $150. It’s nice, but not “special” nice. Not 96-point nice. I’m happy to have had a bottle for empirical purposes, but would I buy it again? No. 3.5 on the Distiller scale (up from 3.0 on my 10/3/23 review). 43% ABV. 18-year age statement. Chill-filtered. Coloring added (E150a). LAPHROAIG 10-YEAR Clear and non-adulterated straw color (Pantone 143). Nose shows peat smoke, kelp, iodine, Band Aid, bacon fat, sage, fresh figs, white pepper, apple, speck, and orange marmalade. The palate has a fig and honeyed sweetness, and if you didn’t know better you’d swear that you’d have just licked the slicked seasoning of a cast-iron griddle after years of service. Mild alcohol given the cornucopia of flavors (this needs a higher proof, and the Cask Strength version delivers on that point), and the finish is long with some light fruity elements and both peat smoke and ash. Laphroaig 10 is an iconic Islay whiskey that is readily available for around $50. While the “burning hospital” flavor profile can be somewhat polarizing, this is one of the most complex whiskies out there and represents one of the best values in all of whiskyland. Would I buy it again? Damn right I would. 4.5 on the Distiller scale (up from 4.25 on my 11/17/23 review). Somewhat tangentially: how is it that Laphroaig 10, as good as it is, is ranked by Distiller two to four points higher than various numbered batches of its Cask Strength older brother, which is a purer and inherently more complex form of the junior version? This is in part a rhetorical questions, but it is a question worth asking. I poured some Cask Strength Batch 13 to compare, and if Laphroaig is 96 points, then the Cask Strength should be even higher. 43% ABV. 10-year age statement. Coloring added (E150a). LAPHROAIG 15-YEAR 200TH ANNIVERSARY Bright amber (Pantone 123). Nose shows cocoa powder, honey, gardenia, apple crumble, gentle peat, scones with strawberry jam, iodine, kombu, nori, damp cardboard box, smoke. On the palate, it’s light on its feet, with some of the same honeyed sweetness from the nose, followed by white pepper, salt, copious ash, and lingering smoked meat on the finish. L15 is sophisticated, graceful, and wonderfully complex. Because of its scarcity as a limited release, online prices now range from $500 to $1,000. Would I buy it again? Yes, at the price I originally paid (a little more than $100, if memory serves). I’m fortunate (and happy) to have it. 4.5 on the Distiller scale (unchanged from my 11/17/23 review). 43% ABV. 15-year age statement. Coloring added (E150a). LAGAVULIN DISTILLER’S EDITION Deep orange amber (Pantone 139), darker than the L15. Dates, raisins, prunes, banana baby food, Frangelico, milk chocolate, and a whiff of vanilla on the nose, all covering the typical Lag16 kelp and iodine notes, as well as some Sharpie, like a thin blanket—the Lag16 typicity is there, but underneath the covers. The palate greets you with a hit of brown-sugar simple syrup, and then the blanket is removed, revealing classic Lag16 notes of kelp, iodine, and smoke. Some white pepper, brief brown sugar, and lingering smoke on the finish. From nose to finish, LDE moves from sweet to peat. This is a far more sophisticated and elegant example of marrying Islay malts with sherry casks than either Bowmore 18 or Ardbeg’s Uigeadail (not part of this tasting due to its Distiller score, but I did pour a tiny bit for comparative purposes). Lagavulin Distiller’s Edition can be had for around $110. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.25 on the Distiller scale (down from 4.5 on my 7/29/22 review). 43% ABV. 16-year age statement. Batch lgv. 4/507. Coloring added (E150a). TALISKER 10-YEAR Clear burnt orange amber (Pantone 138). Cotton-candy-like sweetness. Grape Kool-Aid drink mix. Powdered cocoa. Apple pie and a little smoke. Smoky peat and BBQ sauce. Oily mouthfeel; more viscous than the L15 and LDE. Honey and concentrated pear extract on the palate. White pepper, honeyed biscuits (American, not English), brown-sugared oatmeal, and smoky peat on the finish. Talisker 10 has always been one of my favorite Scotch whiskies. That opinion is reinforced here. It’s more powerful and more youthful than any of the whiskies to this point—yet despite its relative youth, still very complex. Talisker 10 can be purchased for around $65. Would I buy it again? Yes. I don’t have a choice. Incredible value. 4.25 on the Distiller scale (up from 4.0 on my 10/11/23 review). 45.8% ABV. 10-year age statement. Coloring added (E150a). E150a RANT I’m beginning to learn more about E150a, which is caramel coloring that distillers often add to whisky to enhance appearance (see https://whiskipedia.com/fundamentals/spirit-caramel). There is zero—zero—reason why an ostensibly high-end whisky with an age statement should have artificial coloring. On a prior review of Bowmore 18 (10/3/23), I wrote: “the added coloring is for all intents and purposes lying. What is the point? What is there to hide? What is the rationale?” None of these whiskies are bottom-shelf. Their target market is the whisky connoisseur. Tradition and simplicity and rules are what make Scotch whisky what it is: it is made from only cereal grains, water, and yeast; must be matured at least 3 years in oak casks; etc. (specifics: https://www.scotch-whisky.org.uk/insights/protecting-scotch-whisky/legal-protection-in-the-uk/). Neither extra flavoring nor sweetening is allowed. Why then is coloring? If a whisky is dark (like Edradour 10, which uses no coloring), I want to know that it’s dark because of the natural cask maturation process—NOT because it’s being “faked.” Germany requires full ingredient disclosure for whisky sold there, including whether or not E150a is added. So you can go to a site such as https://www.scoma.de (there is an option to select German or English, but there’s no reason to select English if you don’t know German because the disclosure language is in German); type in a whisky like “Lagavulin”; select the “Produktdetails” (German) or “Product Details” (English), and then the German “Farbstoff” or the English “Coloring”, and then you’ll see (in German, regardless of what language is selected) if coloring is added or not. “Yes” is ” Ja, Zuckerkulör E150a”, and “No” is “Nein.” I believe strongly that serious consumers of high-end whisky want the truth—that is, what is “real.” Springbank whiskies are typically of a light color. Why? Because they do not use coloring. And no serious whisky lover rejects them on that basis. Compass Box also sells expensive whisky that has no added coloring, and no one rejects them on that basis. Why do Bowmore (the 18 is fairly dark) and Laphroaig (less so) and Lagavulin add color in varying degrees? It’s fraudulent. And from an economic perspective: one less ingredient is one less cost. Why are these distillers trying to pull the wool over our eyes? If there’s still one reader who has made it this far, weigh in in the comments! CONCLUSION What’s in a rating? Goodness or beauty or merit are each in the eye of the beholder—to an extent. No scoring system or methodology is perfect; however, many if not most can be improved. For example: Distiller uses something akin to a 0-100 scale for its official scores, whereas users are restricted to zero to five in quarter-point increments, and while the community score can get more granular when averaged across numerous users, it is still not aligned with the Distiller score, and should be (@distiller @stephaniemoreno there’s no reason to have two different scoring systems here). Further, for either system: what’s the rationale and methodology? Most 0-100 scales, like school grades, are inflated; in practice, they typically range from perhaps 60 to 100 (meanwhile, Distiller users do employ the entire range of its separate rating system). And in either system, how are the rankings comprised? There are numerous ways it could be done: 33% for nose, 33% for palate, 33% for finish; or adding something for relative value, etc. While this may sound constricting, it’s superior to the chaos of allowing anyone to do it however they want. The benefit of imposing some structure is that while some will ignore it, others would embrace it, which would facilitate better apples-to-apples comparisons. This isn’t a pedantic point. In this Showdown, two whiskies are outliers relative to the others: the Compass Box Hedonism and the Bowmore 18. The Compass Box is monolithic by its own admission (VANILLA shouted on the label), and I concur. It’s not that the whisky is bad in and of itself. But one-dimensional whisky, or nearly so—especially expensive one-dimensional whisky—isn’t worthy of 96 points. Aside from the quite-old whisky in the blend, there isn’t anything to justify its super-premium price. John Glaser is to be admired for his transparency; the disclosure of the specifics of the blend is amazing, and this forthrightness should be an example for all producers. The same goes for the fact that there’s no added caramel coloring (E150a). But that doesn’t change the way the whisky drinks. The Bowmore 18 is more egregious that the others in this Showdown with its darker artificial coloring. There are better, and cheaper, whiskies in the same style; there’s no “must-have” aspect for a whisky that is rated 96 points by Distiller and retails for $150. The others are exceptional for different reasons. The Laphroaig 10 represents tremendous value for its “burning hospital meets beehive” complexity at a $50 price tag. The Laphroaig 15 200th Anniversary Edition is a fine exemplar of restraint and grace—not simplicity—with the added benefit of a 15-year age statement. The Lagavulin Distiller’s Edition strikes the sweet/peat balance better than the Bowmore 18, with a sophistication above another offering in that same space—Ardbeg Uigeadail (which was sampled in this tasting for comparison, but not reviewed because while I do own it, it is not scored 96 or better by Distiller). And finally, the Talisker 10 also represents tremendous value for a youthful, more powerful Islay that has both sweet and peat characteristics that attack your senses, offering intellectual and hedonistic pleasure. These four are winners in this Showdown for different reasons, and are worthy of a high Distiller score. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass. (N.B.: This review in its entirety is posted for each of the whiskies that are tasted, for the purpose of comparison and context; the reviews are in the same order that the whiskies are listed in at the top.)

RABBIT HOLE SHOWDOWN Rabbit Hole Heigold Kentucky Straight Bourbon Rabbit Hole Cavehill Kentucky Straight Bourbon Rabbit Hole Dareringer Straight Bourbon Finished In Px Sherry Casks Rabbit Hole Starlino I was introduced to Rabbit Hole at a tasting I attended a few years ago with the founder, Kaveh Zamanian. I’d seen the distinctive bottles on store shelves, but never pulled the trigger. In my experience, distinctive bottles and labels are often more about marketing than the whiskey they contain. That is not the case with Rabbit Hole. I’m very impressed with the quality, attention to detail, and information transparency that this distillery embraces. Rabbit Hole Heigold Bright orange amber (Pantone 152). Nose shows chocolate covered cherries, a touch of peanut brittle, buttered pancakes, apple cider, balsam, a little spearmint. Pleasantly viscous mouthfeel, with orange oil and clove coming on, followed by a little heat kicking in on the finish, with more chocolate-covered cherries and some oaky vanilla, akin to a woody orange creamsicle (in a pleasant way), followed by a lingering spiciness. Great depth of flavor, sweet, and very smooth. Rabbit Hole Heigold can be found for under $65. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. Fingers crossed that RH won’t start raising prices too much once they have age-statement releases available. 95 proof. NAS. Non-chill filtered. Mashbill: 70% Corn, 25% Malted Rye, 5% Malted Barley Rabbit Hole Cavehill Virtually identical orange amber as the Heigold (Pantone 152). Nose shows caramel apples, Honey Nut Cheerios, balsam, and some ethanol. There’s a whiff of dust that I typically associate with Wild Turkey. Similar light viscosity as the Heigold. I get some peanut on the palate. Some oaky woodiness on the back end, along with cinnamon red hots, vanilla, and again, chocolate covered cherries. The heat comes across a bit more than what one would think given the 95 proof. Rabbit Hole Cavehill is very good, and smoother than the high-rye Heigold, but lack’s the Heigold’s complexity. It’s very good, and can be found for $55-60. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 95 proof. NAS. Non-chill filtered. Mashbill: 70% corn, 10% malted wheat, 10% honey malted barley, 10% malted barley. Rabbit Hole Dareringer Dark amber with a faint rust tint (Pantone 159). Chocolaty notes of fudge, cocoa powder, Cocoa Puffs cereal, raisins, honey, spearmint. Almost like a mudslide slushy cocktail. Palate has both breadth and depth, and more intensity than the nose. The ethanol, shrouded on the nose, makes an appearance on the finish. Angel’s Envy was the first (or one of the first) bourbons to follow the common Scotch whisky practice of finishing maturation in sherry casks. But Dareringer does it far better (side note: I need to do a sherry-finished bourbon Showdown). Rabbit Hole Dareringer can be found for around $80. Would I buy it again? Yes. It’s very, very good. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. 93 Proof. NAS. Non-chill filtered. Mashbill: 65% corn, 25% wheat, 10% malted barley. Rabbit Hole Starlino A shade lighter amber than the Heigold and Cavehill (Pantone 138). Unmistakably rye. Sweet red grapes, rosemary, sage, rye, baking chocolate, mown grass, and some cooling menthol. The chocolate and herbal notes predominate on the palate; some nice rye spice kicks in on the back and. The higher alcohol is kept in check (despite this being the highest proof of the four), and a sweet medium-length finish follows. Rabbit Hole Starlino is finished in Hotel Starlino Rosso vermouth. I received this bottle as a gift at the aforementioned Rabbit Hole tasting that I attended a couple years back. Only 2112 375ml bottles were produced, and it was available only at the distillery. It does not seem to be available online, and I have no idea what it was priced at. Would I buy it again? Yes, assuming the price was right. It’s very good. 4.0 on the Distiller scale, down slightly from the 4.25 on my last review. 105.6 proof. NAS. Bottle #446 of 2112. These four Rabbit Hole bottlings (there are others) are different whiskies. The Heigold is “high rye”; the Cavehill has a four-grain bourbon mashbill; the Dareringer is a sherry-finished bourbon; and the Starlino is a Kentucky rye finished in vermouth casks. I prefer the Heigold to the Cavehill; it is sweeter and more complex. The Dareinger is a different animal, and arguably more complex than the Heigold, with a great depth of flavor. The Starlino, being a rye, is a different animal. Not that these Showdowns are contests: rather, they are exercises meant to show the different aromas and flavors that one can detect when compared against other whiskies or spirits, and hopefully provide a clearer picture of the relative aspects of each, in a way that may offer more focus than in a single-whisk(e)y tasting (though of course I do those as well). When Rabbit Hole was created in 2012, they sourced whiskey from New Riff distillery. However, they’ve been producing their own product since 2018 (I think the Starlino was the first release that was entirely from the distillery). The company touts their offerings as “super premium” on its website, and who am I to disagree? They are very good, and my sense is that Rabbit Hole bourbons and ryes are only going to improve as their stocks continue to age. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

RABBIT HOLE SHOWDOWN Rabbit Hole Heigold Kentucky Straight Bourbon Rabbit Hole Cavehill Kentucky Straight Bourbon Rabbit Hole Dareringer Straight Bourbon Finished In Px Sherry Casks Rabbit Hole Starlino I was introduced to Rabbit Hole at a tasting I attended a few years ago with the founder, Kaveh Zamanian. I’d seen the distinctive bottles on store shelves, but never pulled the trigger. In my experience, distinctive bottles and labels are often more about marketing than the whiskey they contain. That is not the case with Rabbit Hole. I’m very impressed with the quality, attention to detail, and information transparency that this distillery embraces. Rabbit Hole Heigold Bright orange amber (Pantone 152). Nose shows chocolate covered cherries, a touch of peanut brittle, buttered pancakes, apple cider, balsam, a little spearmint. Pleasantly viscous mouthfeel, with orange oil and clove coming on, followed by a little heat kicking in on the finish, with more chocolate-covered cherries and some oaky vanilla, akin to a woody orange creamsicle (in a pleasant way), followed by a lingering spiciness. Great depth of flavor, sweet, and very smooth. Rabbit Hole Heigold can be found for under $65. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. Fingers crossed that RH won’t start raising prices too much once they have age-statement releases available. 95 proof. NAS. Non-chill filtered. Mashbill: 70% Corn, 25% Malted Rye, 5% Malted Barley Rabbit Hole Cavehill Virtually identical orange amber as the Heigold (Pantone 152). Nose shows caramel apples, Honey Nut Cheerios, balsam, and some ethanol. There’s a whiff of dust that I typically associate with Wild Turkey. Similar light viscosity as the Heigold. I get some peanut on the palate. Some oaky woodiness on the back end, along with cinnamon red hots, vanilla, and again, chocolate covered cherries. The heat comes across a bit more than what one would think given the 95 proof. Rabbit Hole Cavehill is very good, and smoother than the high-rye Heigold, but lack’s the Heigold’s complexity. It’s very good, and can be found for $55-60. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 95 proof. NAS. Non-chill filtered. Mashbill: 70% corn, 10% malted wheat, 10% honey malted barley, 10% malted barley. Rabbit Hole Dareringer Dark amber with a faint rust tint (Pantone 159). Chocolaty notes of fudge, cocoa powder, Cocoa Puffs cereal, raisins, honey, spearmint. Almost like a mudslide slushy cocktail. Palate has both breadth and depth, and more intensity than the nose. The ethanol, shrouded on the nose, makes an appearance on the finish. Angel’s Envy was the first (or one of the first) bourbons to follow the common Scotch whisky practice of finishing maturation in sherry casks. But Dareringer does it far better (side note: I need to do a sherry-finished bourbon Showdown). Rabbit Hole Dareringer can be found for around $80. Would I buy it again? Yes. It’s very, very good. 4.5 on the Distiller scale, consistent with my last review. 93 Proof. NAS. Non-chill filtered. Mashbill: 65% corn, 25% wheat, 10% malted barley. Rabbit Hole Starlino A shade lighter amber than the Heigold and Cavehill (Pantone 138). Unmistakably rye. Sweet red grapes, rosemary, sage, rye, baking chocolate, mown grass, and some cooling menthol. The chocolate and herbal notes predominate on the palate; some nice rye spice kicks in on the back and. The higher alcohol is kept in check (despite this being the highest proof of the four), and a sweet medium-length finish follows. Rabbit Hole Starlino is finished in Hotel Starlino Rosso vermouth. I received this bottle as a gift at the aforementioned Rabbit Hole tasting that I attended a couple years back. Only 2112 375ml bottles were produced, and it was available only at the distillery. It does not seem to be available online, and I have no idea what it was priced at. Would I buy it again? Yes, assuming the price was right. It’s very good. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 105.6 proof. NAS. Bottle #446 of 2112. These four Rabbit Hole bottlings (there are others) are different whiskies. The Heigold is “high rye”; the Cavehill has a four-grain bourbon mashbill; the Dareringer is a sherry-finished bourbon; and the Starlino is a Kentucky rye finished in vermouth casks. I prefer the Heigold to the Cavehill; it is sweeter and more complex. The Dareinger is a different animal, and arguably more complex than the Heigold, with a great depth of flavor. The Starlino, being a rye, is a different animal. Not that these Showdowns are contests: rather, they are exercises meant to show the different aromas and flavors that one can detect when compared against other whiskies or spirits, and hopefully provide a clearer picture of the relative aspects of each, in a way that may offer more focus than in a single-whisk(e)y tasting (though of course I do those as well). When Rabbit Hole was created in 2012, they sourced whiskey from New Riff distillery. However, they’ve been producing their own product since 2018 (I think the Starlino was the first release that was entirely from the distillery). The company touts their offerings as “super premium” on its website, and who am I to disagree? They are very good, and my sense is that Rabbit Hole bourbons and ryes are only going to improve as their stocks continue to age. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

RABBIT HOLE SHOWDOWN Rabbit Hole Heigold Kentucky Straight Bourbon Rabbit Hole Cavehill Kentucky Straight Bourbon Rabbit Hole Dareringer Straight Bourbon Finished In Px Sherry Casks Rabbit Hole Starlino I was introduced to Rabbit Hole at a tasting I attended a few years ago with the founder, Kaveh Zamanian. I’d seen the distinctive bottles on store shelves, but never pulled the trigger. In my experience, distinctive bottles and labels are often more about marketing than the whiskey they contain. That is not the case with Rabbit Hole. I’m very impressed with the quality, attention to detail, and information transparency that this distillery embraces. Rabbit Hole Heigold Bright orange amber (Pantone 152). Nose shows chocolate covered cherries, a touch of peanut brittle, buttered pancakes, apple cider, balsam, a little spearmint. Pleasantly viscous mouthfeel, with orange oil and clove coming on, followed by a little heat kicking in on the finish, with more chocolate-covered cherries and some oaky vanilla, akin to a woody orange creamsicle (in a pleasant way), followed by a lingering spiciness. Great depth of flavor, sweet, and very smooth. Rabbit Hole Heigold can be found for under $65. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. Fingers crossed that RH won’t start raising prices too much once they have age-statement releases available. 95 proof. NAS. Non-chill filtered. Mashbill: 70% Corn, 25% Malted Rye, 5% Malted Barley Rabbit Hole Cavehill Virtually identical orange amber as the Heigold (Pantone 152). Nose shows caramel apples, Honey Nut Cheerios, balsam, and some ethanol. There’s a whiff of dust that I typically associate with Wild Turkey. Similar light viscosity as the Heigold. I get some peanut on the palate. Some oaky woodiness on the back end, along with cinnamon red hots, vanilla, and again, chocolate covered cherries. The heat comes across a bit more than what one would think given the 95 proof. Rabbit Hole Cavehill is very good, and smoother than the high-rye Heigold, but lack’s the Heigold’s complexity. It’s very good, and can be found for $55-60. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.0 on the Distiller scale, up from 3.75 on my last review. 95 proof. NAS. Non-chill filtered. Mashbill: 70% corn, 10% malted wheat, 10% honey malted barley, 10% malted barley. Rabbit Hole Dareringer Dark amber with a faint rust tint (Pantone 159). Chocolaty notes of fudge, cocoa powder, Cocoa Puffs cereal, raisins, honey, spearmint. Almost like a mudslide slushy cocktail. Palate has both breadth and depth, and more intensity than the nose. The ethanol, shrouded on the nose, makes an appearance on the finish. Angel’s Envy was the first (or one of the first) bourbons to follow the common Scotch whisky practice of finishing maturation in sherry casks. But Dareringer does it far better (side note: I need to do a sherry-finished bourbon Showdown). Rabbit Hole Dareringer can be found for around $80. Would I buy it again? Yes. It’s very, very good. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. 93 Proof. NAS. Non-chill filtered. Mashbill: 65% corn, 25% wheat, 10% malted barley. Rabbit Hole Starlino A shade lighter amber than the Heigold and Cavehill (Pantone 138). Unmistakably rye. Sweet red grapes, rosemary, sage, rye, baking chocolate, mown grass, and some cooling menthol. The chocolate and herbal notes predominate on the palate; some nice rye spice kicks in on the back and. The higher alcohol is kept in check (despite this being the highest proof of the four), and a sweet medium-length finish follows. Rabbit Hole Starlino is finished in Hotel Starlino Rosso vermouth. I received this bottle as a gift at the aforementioned Rabbit Hole tasting that I attended a couple years back. Only 2112 375ml bottles were produced, and it was available only at the distillery. It does not seem to be available online, and I have no idea what it was priced at. Would I buy it again? Yes, assuming the price was right. It’s very good. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 105.6 proof. NAS. Bottle #446 of 2112. These four Rabbit Hole bottlings (there are others) are different whiskies. The Heigold is “high rye”; the Cavehill has a four-grain bourbon mashbill; the Dareringer is a sherry-finished bourbon; and the Starlino is a Kentucky rye finished in vermouth casks. I prefer the Heigold to the Cavehill; it is sweeter and more complex. The Dareinger is a different animal, and arguably more complex than the Heigold, with a great depth of flavor. The Starlino, being a rye, is a different animal. Not that these Showdowns are contests: rather, they are exercises meant to show the different aromas and flavors that one can detect when compared against other whiskies or spirits, and hopefully provide a clearer picture of the relative aspects of each, in a way that may offer more focus than in a single-whisk(e)y tasting (though of course I do those as well). When Rabbit Hole was created in 2012, they sourced whiskey from New Riff distillery. However, they’ve been producing their own product since 2018 (I think the Starlino was the first release that was entirely from the distillery). The company touts their offerings as “super premium” on its website, and who am I to disagree? They are very good, and my sense is that Rabbit Hole bourbons and ryes are only going to improve as their stocks continue to age. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

RABBIT HOLE SHOWDOWN Rabbit Hole Heigold Kentucky Straight Bourbon Rabbit Hole Cavehill Kentucky Straight Bourbon Rabbit Hole Dareringer Straight Bourbon Finished In Px Sherry Casks Rabbit Hole Starlino I was introduced to Rabbit Hole at a tasting I attended a few years ago with the founder, Kaveh Zamanian. I’d seen the distinctive bottles on store shelves, but never pulled the trigger. In my experience, distinctive bottles and labels are often more about marketing than the whiskey they contain. That is not the case with Rabbit Hole. I’m very impressed with the quality, attention to detail, and information transparency that this distillery embraces. Rabbit Hole Heigold Bright orange amber (Pantone 152). Nose shows chocolate covered cherries, a touch of peanut brittle, buttered pancakes, apple cider, balsam, a little spearmint. Pleasantly viscous mouthfeel, with orange oil and clove coming on, followed by a little heat kicking in on the finish, with more chocolate-covered cherries and some oaky vanilla, akin to a woody orange creamsicle (in a pleasant way), followed by a lingering spiciness. Great depth of flavor, sweet, and very smooth. Rabbit Hole Heigold can be found for under $65. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.25 on the Distiller scale, up from 4.0 on my last review. Fingers crossed that RH won’t start raising prices too much once they have age-statement releases available. 95 proof. NAS. Non-chill filtered. Mashbill: 70% Corn, 25% Malted Rye, 5% Malted Barley Rabbit Hole Cavehill Virtually identical orange amber as the Heigold (Pantone 152). Nose shows caramel apples, Honey Nut Cheerios, balsam, and some ethanol. There’s a whiff of dust that I typically associate with Wild Turkey. Similar light viscosity as the Heigold. I get some peanut on the palate. Some oaky woodiness on the back end, along with cinnamon red hots, vanilla, and again, chocolate covered cherries. The heat comes across a bit more than what one would think given the 95 proof. Rabbit Hole Cavehill is very good, and smoother than the high-rye Heigold, but lack’s the Heigold’s complexity. It’s very good, and can be found for $55-60. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 95 proof. NAS. Non-chill filtered. Mashbill: 70% corn, 10% malted wheat, 10% honey malted barley, 10% malted barley. Rabbit Hole Dareringer Dark amber with a faint rust tint (Pantone 159). Chocolaty notes of fudge, cocoa powder, Cocoa Puffs cereal, raisins, honey, spearmint. Almost like a mudslide slushy cocktail. Palate has both breadth and depth, and more intensity than the nose. The ethanol, shrouded on the nose, makes an appearance on the finish. Angel’s Envy was the first (or one of the first) bourbons to follow the common Scotch whisky practice of finishing maturation in sherry casks. But Dareringer does it far better (side note: I need to do a sherry-finished bourbon Showdown). Rabbit Hole Dareringer can be found for around $80. Would I buy it again? Yes. It’s very, very good. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. 93 Proof. NAS. Non-chill filtered. Mashbill: 65% corn, 25% wheat, 10% malted barley. Rabbit Hole Starlino A shade lighter amber than the Heigold and Cavehill (Pantone 138). Unmistakably rye. Sweet red grapes, rosemary, sage, rye, baking chocolate, mown grass, and some cooling menthol. The chocolate and herbal notes predominate on the palate; some nice rye spice kicks in on the back and. The higher alcohol is kept in check (despite this being the highest proof of the four), and a sweet medium-length finish follows. Rabbit Hole Starlino is finished in Hotel Starlino Rosso vermouth. I received this bottle as a gift at the aforementioned Rabbit Hole tasting that I attended a couple years back. Only 2112 375ml bottles were produced, and it was available only at the distillery. It does not seem to be available online, and I have no idea what it was priced at. Would I buy it again? Yes, assuming the price was right. It’s very good. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 105.6 proof. NAS. Bottle #446 of 2112. These four Rabbit Hole bottlings (there are others) are different whiskies. The Heigold is “high rye”; the Cavehill has a four-grain bourbon mashbill; the Dareringer is a sherry-finished bourbon; and the Starlino is a Kentucky rye finished in vermouth casks. I prefer the Heigold to the Cavehill; it is sweeter and more complex. The Dareinger is a different animal, and arguably more complex than the Heigold, with a great depth of flavor. The Starlino, being a rye, is a different animal. Not that these Showdowns are contests: rather, they are exercises meant to show the different aromas and flavors that one can detect when compared against other whiskies or spirits, and hopefully provide a clearer picture of the relative aspects of each, in a way that may offer more focus than in a single-whisk(e)y tasting (though of course I do those as well). When Rabbit Hole was created in 2012, they sourced whiskey from New Riff distillery. However, they’ve been producing their own product since 2018 (I think the Starlino was the first release that was entirely from the distillery). The company touts their offerings as “super premium” on its website, and who am I to disagree? They are very good, and my sense is that Rabbit Hole bourbons and ryes are only going to improve as their stocks continue to age. N.B. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

TEELING IRISH WHISKEY SHOWDOWN Teeling Small Batch Rum Casks Teeling Single Cask Sherry Cask I’ve been spending more time with Irish Whiskey recently, and I’m pleasantly surprised with Teeling. Their whiskies show an attention to detail and quality, as well both tradition and innovation. Teeling produce several bottlings, ranging from the entry-level Rum Casks to Single Barrel to limited editions. What follows is a review of the only two that I’ve tried from their portfolio. However, I had to open three other bottles from three different producers for comparison to make sure my head was screwed on straight (or rather, so that my tongue wasn’t tied, or my nose narcotized); so in a sense this is a five-part Showdown, but I didn’t go into depth with the three non-Teeling whiskies. Teeling Small Batch Rum Casks Medium straw color (Pantone 124). Tropical fruit nose shows grapefruit, papaya, guava, and banana, along with white raisins, fruitcake, gardenia, and some ethanol, with a little vanilla layered in. It actually smells a little like a resposado tequila, which sounds unusual but is in sync with the other descriptors. It’s also rum-like, which makes more sense given the rum cask finishing. I also get a honey-lemon note analogous to a Hall’s cough drop, but without the menthol (similar to the note I find when nosing Nikka Coffey Malt, only lighter; I opened the Nikka and tasted it to check, and a similarity is there). The mouthfeel has some viscosity, and the palate is very fruity, with more white raisins. The 46% ABV shows itself on the back end at an appropriate volume, and there’s more honey lemon, butterscotch, and some vanilla on the finish, with a subtle espresso undertone (like espresso with a bit of sugar and a twist of lemon). I like this entry-level Teeling, but it takes some time to open up (I nosed and tasted it for nearly 40 minutes). It’s unconventional to me, even given my somewhat limited (but growing) experience with Irish Whiskey. Sipping it is like wandering through a maze, with welcome unexpectedness around each corner. In addition to the Nikka Coffey Malt nose, it reminds me of a junior version of Compass Box Hedonism (which I’ve never cared for nor rated well; but I opened it too, and found some similarities, though the Compass Box was far more viscous and vanilla-y). Where else are you going to find a complex Irish whiskey at 46% ABV which is non-chill filtered, intellectually satisfying, and under $40? I’d venture no where aside from this offering. Would I buy it again? Yes. I’ll be looking for a replacement soon (my bottle’s final pour was used for this review). 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 46% ABV. Non-chill filtered. Batch # SB/61. Initially aged in bourbon casks, followed by up to 12 months in rum casks. Teeling Single Cask Sherry Cask Medium straw color—virtually identical to the Rum Casks expression. (Pantone 124). Complex nose shows honeysuckle, gardenia, Cheerios, cocoa powder, breakfast ham, butterscotch, toffee, hot cross buns, candied cashews, bacon, dates, and buttered pancakes. The mouthfeel has an oily richness, and the palate shows a similar grapefruit and papaya aspect. The 62.6% ABV is noticeable and grabs your attention, yet remains suave and debonair (not unlike Pierce Brosnan, the Irish James Bond). The grapefruit continues on the finish, and like the Rum Casks expression, a slight espresso bitterness appears underneath, but this is complimentary rather than disparaging. The Teeling Sherry Cask is fuller, richer, and more expressive than the Teeling Rum Casks (as expected), boosted by the higher APV. Tasting it reminds me of drinking an age-worthy cab before its time—it comes across as focused, but a little tight. If it were a wine, this would resolve and mellow in time (of course as a whiskey, that won’t happen in the bottle). So I decided to pour a little Redbreast Lustau, which is another Irish whiskey finished in sherry casks (albeit at a much milder 46% ABV). They are very different; the Lustau is smoother, like Macallan 18’s country cousin (as I wrote in my most recent review on it). The Teeling Sherry Cask is far more floral and fruity, and even sharp (grapefruit). It is very complex. This limited-release Teeling expression can be found for around $115 (only in duty-free shops, as far as I know). This bottle was a generous gift from a good friend, but would I buy it? Yes. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 62.6% ABV. Distilled 2016; Bottled 10/2023. Limited release. Both of these Teeling expressions are atypical—so much so that I brought the three aforementioned additional whiskies to the table for comparison. Both Teelings share a tequila aspect on the nose (reposado for the Rum Casks; añejo for the Sherry Cask), and I’d bet that with the Rum Casks especially, tasted blind next to the right reposado, an experienced taster would be hard pressed to tell the difference (I’ll have to try that combination too, I suppose). Teeling is a brand that I’ll be paying attention to, and I’m eager to try additional bottlings. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

TEELING IRISH WHISKEY SHOWDOWN Teeling Small Batch Rum Casks Teeling Single Cask Sherry Cask I’ve been spending more time with Irish Whiskey recently, and I’m pleasantly surprised with Teeling. Their whiskies show an attention to detail and quality, as well both tradition and innovation. Teeling produce several bottlings, ranging from the entry-level Rum Casks to Single Barrel to limited editions. What follows is a review of the only two that I’ve tried from their portfolio. However, I had to open three other bottles from three different producers for comparison to make sure my head was screwed on straight (or rather, so that my tongue wasn’t tied, or my nose narcotized); so in a sense this is a five-part Showdown, but I didn’t go into depth with the three non-Teeling whiskies. Teeling Small Batch Rum Casks Medium straw color (Pantone 124). Tropical fruit nose shows grapefruit, papaya, guava, and banana, along with white raisins, fruitcake, gardenia, and some ethanol, with a little vanilla layered in. It actually smells a little like a resposado tequila, which sounds unusual but is in sync with the other descriptors. It’s also rum-like, which makes more sense given the rum cask finishing. I also get a honey-lemon note analogous to a Hall’s cough drop, but without the menthol (similar to the note I find when nosing Nikka Coffey Malt, only lighter; I opened the Nikka and tasted it to check, and a similarity is there). The mouthfeel has some viscosity, and the palate is very fruity, with more white raisins. The 46% ABV shows itself on the back end at an appropriate volume, and there’s more honey lemon, butterscotch, and some vanilla on the finish, with a subtle espresso undertone (like espresso with a bit of sugar and a twist of lemon). I like this entry-level Teeling, but it takes some time to open up (I nosed and tasted it for nearly 40 minutes). It’s unconventional to me, even given my somewhat limited (but growing) experience with Irish Whiskey. Sipping it is like wandering through a maze, with welcome unexpectedness around each corner. In addition to the Nikka Coffey Malt nose, it reminds me of a junior version of Compass Box Hedonism (which I’ve never cared for nor rated well; but I opened it too, and found some similarities, though the Compass Box was far more viscous and vanilla-y). Where else are you going to find a complex Irish whiskey at 46% ABV which is non-chill filtered, intellectually satisfying, and under $40? I’d venture no where aside from this offering. Would I buy it again? Yes. I’ll be looking for a replacement soon (my bottle’s final pour was used for this review). 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 46% ABV. Non-chill filtered. Batch # SB/61. Initially aged in bourbon casks, followed by up to 12 months in rum casks. Teeling Single Cask Sherry Cask Medium straw color—virtually identical to the Rum Casks expression. (Pantone 124). Complex nose shows honeysuckle, gardenia, Cheerios, cocoa powder, breakfast ham, butterscotch, toffee, hot cross buns, candied cashews, bacon, dates, and buttered pancakes. The mouthfeel has an oily richness, and the palate shows a similar grapefruit and papaya aspect. The 62.6% ABV is noticeable and grabs your attention, yet remains suave and debonair (not unlike Pierce Brosnan, the Irish James Bond). The grapefruit continues on the finish, and like the Rum Casks expression, a slight espresso bitterness appears underneath, but this is complimentary rather than disparaging. The Teeling Sherry Cask is fuller, richer, and more expressive than the Teeling Rum Casks (as expected), boosted by the higher APV. Tasting it reminds me of drinking an age-worthy cab before its time—it comes across as focused, but a little tight. If it were a wine, this would resolve and mellow in time (of course as a whiskey, that won’t happen in the bottle). So I decided to pour a little Redbreast Lustau, which is another Irish whiskey finished in sherry casks (albeit at a much milder 46% ABV). They are very different; the Lustau is smoother, like Macallan 18’s country cousin (as I wrote in my most recent review on it). The Teeling Sherry Cask is far more floral and fruity, and even sharp (grapefruit). It is very complex. This limited-release Teeling expression can be found for around $115 (only in duty-free shops, as far as I know). This bottle was a generous gift from a good friend, but would I buy it? Yes. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 62.6% ABV. Distilled 2016; Bottled 10/2023. Limited release. Both of these Teeling expressions are atypical—so much so that I brought the three aforementioned additional whiskies to the table for comparison. Both Teelings share a tequila aspect on the nose (reposado for the Rum Casks; añejo for the Sherry Cask), and I’d bet that with the Rum Casks especially, tasted blind next to the right reposado, an experienced taster would be hard pressed to tell the difference (I’ll have to try that combination too, I suppose). Teeling is a brand that I’ll be paying attention to, and I’m eager to try additional bottlings. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

This review is for my soon-to-be ex-wife and her attorney, whom I’ve recently learned are monitoring my reviews to track “depletion of assets.” Not kidding. Enjoy, ladies! This one’s for you. I’ll address the financials in due course, counselor (and client). But if you’ll accommodate once again this intractable hard-ass for a few brief moments, I must first provide my five-man audience (up from four yesterday!) with a proper review. Bright copper orange color (Pantone 152—thanks for the help, sincerely, Home Depot paint associate). Cornbread, dark peanut brittle, chocolate-covered cherries (Godiva, of course), oak, vanilla, orange oil, and that sweet-ink smell of newly minted Benjamins, which is not off-putting (and let’s face it, not surprising either given the three glasses of 2005 Rochioli West Block pinot I pregamed with Tom Rochioli himself on FaceTime beforehand). The palate is smooth and lush (fertilized, shall we say, with that Russian River terroir); there’s honey sweetness, and the oak and vanilla reappear on the back end. The 100 proof is well integrated—not so much a Kentucky Hug as a Bardstown kiss—with cinnamon stick and a pungently sweet and dark Kopi luwak espresso note on the medium-length finish. Ah, Bali, and that weekend with my…strike that. I digress. I bought this bottle for $629.82 all-in, according to my records (counselor, you’ll never find the blockchain ledger). While my drinking buddies gift me bottles of bourbon regularly in lieu of the cover charge for all of the college football bacchanals that I host—Pat McAfee dropped by for the last one—this bottle was not derived from that bribing provenance. I paid cash money. I’d been searching high and low for this über-rare three-quarter liter of bluegrass sweetness for months. Unable to locate it amongst the dozen or so local shops I haunt—I know each manger on a first-name basis, have them in my contacts, and use a special ringtone for their inbound calls in case I need to briefly exit a meeting (“Excuse me, but that’s my son calling from his school”)—I was coerced to pay inflated secondary prices to an opportunistic vulture in one of the 27 whisk(e)y groups I’m a member of on Facebook (10 bourbon, 17 scotch). The seller, a pleasant but persnickety businessman in Shanghai who insisted I negotiate the complicated details of the transaction on his 4:15 PM “Baiju break” (GMT+8!, i.e., 3:15 AM EDT), charged a 3% convenience fee, a 4% f/x fee, a special “import tax,” and a modest (his words) insurance derivative through his brother’s startup on the Kowloon side of Hong Kong, in case the bottle was damaged in transit. And he talked me into paying overnight shipping, of course. What’s a bourbon hunter to do? Let’s face it: this is a rounding error compared to the wine deliveries I have shipped to my friend’s house. Would I buy it again? Hell yes I would. Plus another for inventory! 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 100 proof. 7-year age statement. Appears to be chill-filtered, because I just brought it out from my barn where it’s around 40°, and the bourbon is clear, with no cloudiness. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass (forgot $29 upcharge from seller’s glassworks).

REDBREAST SHOWDOWN Redbreast 12-Year Redbreast 15-Year Redbreast Lustau Edition Redbreast Tawny Port Cask Edition Redbreast 12 was one of a small handful of whiskies that I cut my teeth on over two decades ago. Back then I used to travel to Dublin on business occasionally, and an Irish friend of mine here in the states would always ask me to bring him back a bottle or two of Redbreast 12, which was unavailable in the U.S. at the time. That would give me an excuse to bring one back for myself as well. I recall liking it, but not loving it as my friend did; and after a brief romance, I put aside the Redbreast in the name of additional whiskey exploration. But lovebirds always find a way of coming back together—so here we are. Redbreast 12-Year Clear amber color (Pantone 143). Lots of vanilla on the nose, as well as some honey-lemon notes, similar to those that I experienced with the Nikka Coffey Malt Whisky (reviewed 9/21/23), though not as pronounced, along with papaya, hot candied peanuts, some light clove, and toast. The palate reengages the hot candied peanuts, or pralines, followed by a tickle of spice and light vanilla on the finish. Tasting the Redbreast 12 following the other three, I find that it comes across a little thin. It’s a shame that such a classic Irish Whiskey—with a 12-year age statement, no less—is bottled at a paltry 80 proof. I’ll go a step further and call it appalling. This is not mass-market, base-level Jameson or Bushmills: it’s $70 whiskey. Would I buy it again? I want to say yes. R12 is foundational in an Irish Whiskey collection. However, it’s a poor value on a relative basis. It’s a nice whiskey, and I’ll happily drink it, and enjoy it as well. 3.5 on the Distiller scale. 40% ABV. 12-year age statement. Redbreast 15-Year Deep, robust amber, nearly the burnt orange of the Lustau (still Pantone 144). There’s a sweet cotton-candyish note on first nosing—not cloying, but intriguing. That note slips into raspberry chocolate truffles, buttered Irish scones, Concord grape juice, sandalwood, applesauce, caffè latte, orange oil, and Christmas cake. Apricot as well, after tasting the Tawny Port Edition. The palate shows a light viscosity, and the olfactory and flavor profile pivots from fruity to more woody and spicy, finishing with papaya, vanilla, and baking spices. The Redbreast 15 is very, very good. Its complexity and sophistication hint at what the 12 could be with a little higher proof. The 15-year can be found for around $140. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. 46% ABV. 15-year age statement. Redbreast Lustau Edition Burnt orange color and like the 15, darker than the 12-year, as would be expected from the sherry cask finish (Pantone 144). Unmistakable sherry influence: dried figs, mulled cider, prunes, clove, molasses, a little vanilla. These aspects show as more savory on the palate, with a little salinity as well, and a light oiliness. Dates, brown sugar, and some chili spice on the finish. Redbreast Lustau Edition tastes like dapper Macallan’s country cousin: a little rougher around the edges, but exhibiting familial characteristics (I’ll have to do a separate Showdown to confirm that hypothesis). It can be found for around $75. Would I buy it again? Absolutely. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 46% ABV. NAS. Redbreast Tawny Port Cask Edition (To clarify: The “Tawny Port Cask Edition” here is not cask strength). Similar deep amber Pantone 144 color. The nose is not as forthcoming as the Lustau, and initially shows a kind of dusty funk which then manifests as hazelnutty tawny port itself, before shifting to brown sugar, French toast with cinnamon, cut grass, chive, and cool spearmint. It’s a little vegetal; there’s even a green pepper undernote. The mouthfeel is lightly viscous, and is sharply focused with brown sugar and walnut notes. The alcohol is less integrated than the Lustau on the palate, and the finish shows a little sorghum syrup and a touch of woody tannic bitterness. The Tawny Port Edition, like the other Redbreast expressions, is packaged in an attractive box. But this one is a mauve pink, which is suggestive of a ruby rather than a tawny port. Were I the head of the marketing department, I would have opted for something in the tan spectrum. But I digress. I tasted each of these together over the course of three days, and my experience with the Tawny Port Edition declined somewhat. This Redbreast expression currently retails for $99. Would I buy it again? Maybe. 3.75 on the Distiller scale. 46% ABV. NAS. With this Showdown, I’ve been digging into the Redbreast offerings to become more familiar with the brand (which is part of the Pernod Ricard portfolio). Their website has some polished, if misguided, branding. There’s even a QR code on the 12-year box that provides a “virtual experience” whereby you can see the Redbreast robin superimposed on the camera on your phone: meaning you can point your phone in any direction, looking through it, and the robin appears, along with a separate birdhouse, and cues to point the camera in different directions. I was unable to click on either, or get any interaction (and I’m a tech guy). So essentially you look through your phone and see the robin mascot and a birdhouse superimposed on whatever you’re pointing your camera at. Why? The website has a menu called “Drinks” which showcases various high-end cocktails. What Madison Avenue ad wizard concocted this? Redbreast’s base offering is the 12-year, which retails for $70. Who is going to use a 12-year-old, $70 whiskey in a cocktail? Certainly there are those who can afford it, and I’m a believer in using quality ingredients for hand-crafted cocktails. But are they seriously trying to position age-statemented whiskey as premium or super-premium mixers? This is not mass-market whiskey; nor is not vodka (that’s another story). Redbreast’s website appears to be focused on age statements (12-, 15-, 21-, and 27-year bottlings), which are historically aimed at whiskey enthusiasts. From a business inventory perspective, distillers cannot afford to have massive stockpiles of old whiskey; as the ages get older, the stocks decline exponentially. Pernod Ricard wants to have inventory sit for 12 years and then dilute it to 40% ABV and suggest cocktails? From a business perspective: make an NAS offering and position that as your cocktail whiskey. The vast majority of cocktail drinkers won’t care, and Pernod Ricard will make more money by not having all the age-statemented whiskies (or at least the 12-year) sitting in inventory before it can be monetized. I’ve spent my entire career in finance, and I just don’t get the business model. There’s a huge disconnect between the marketing side and the business side. I could go on, but I’ll get off my soapbox for now. Back to the whiskey: the clear winner here is the 15-year, followed by the Lustau, the Tawny Port, and the 12-year. I’m sure the 12 would be much better at the 46% ABV that the others share (Redbreast does produce a cask-strength version of the 12-year—thankfully!—that I’ve not come across in the wild, but would love to try). I admire Redbreast’s forays into these different finishing casks, and would love to see the Lustau as part of its permanent portfolio. These are pricier whiskies. The Lustau is easily the best value here—and in terms of whiskies generally—and the 15-year is very good. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.