Tastes
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Redbreast Lustau Edition
Single Pot Still — Ireland
Reviewed November 22, 2023 (edited December 8, 2023)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. -
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.
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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.
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Laphroaig Càirdeas 2019 Triple Wood Cask Strength
Single Malt — Islay, Scotland
Reviewed November 17, 2023 (edited November 22, 2023)LAPHROAIG SHOWDOWN LAPHROAIG 10-YEAR LAPHROAIG CASK STRENGTH BATCH 013 LAPHROAIG CÀIDERAS 2019 TRIPLE WOOD CASK STRENGTH LAPHROAIG 15-YEAR 200TH ANNIVERSARY I sampled these over the course of three days. Day one was the 10-year and the Cask Strength; day two was the Càideras and the 15-year; and day three was all four of them together. I took preliminary notes on the first two days. On day three, I decided to rearrange the order, from sophisticated to more pugilistic—which happened to correspond to age in descending order, and ABV in ascending order. At any rate, on the third day I initially tasted them in this order, but then went back and forth between them all randomly. LAPHROAIG 15-YEAR 200TH ANNIVERSARY Brilliant amber color (Pantone 123). More sophisticated nose than the youthful and flamboyant Càirdeas: orange zest, porridge, capocollo, grilled asparagus, peach, baked apples. Later: cantaloupe (again). Mouthfeel not very viscous despite the 15-year age statement and wood contact. Palate is sweet with pear compote, vanilla, a little butterscotch, bacon, and honey. A touch of white pepper on the finish, with honey and dry leathery notes. The 15-year displays a muted Islay typicity; its characteristics are far less ostentatious than the other three. But that doesn’t mean its lackadaisical. Think of a bell curve: somewhat subtle on the nose (though still very complex), more robust on the palate, and then finishing elegantly. Think cozy cabin or wood-paneled library, fire in the fireplace, cold fall mist outside (Scotland or elsewhere), Mendelssohn’s Hebrides overture in the background. And this whisky, neat, with the bottle handy for a second pour. Pensive, contemplative, and refined. A quick Internet search shows that this expression can be found today for $500-$600 (it was a limited release). I think I paid around $100 a few years back, and I’m happy I did. Would I buy it again? No. I’m very glad that I did buy it at a far cheaper price, though. It’s wonderful, and I’m happy to be able to experience it (I’ve got a quarter of a bottle left). 4.5 on the Distiller scale (unchanged from my review on 8/12/22). 43% ABV. 15-year age statement. LAPHROAIG 10-YEAR Subtler amber color (Pantone 142). Kelp, saline, iodine, dank basement, and yes, burning peat. Terracotta pot (oddly like a note on some sangioveses), only this pot is of course soaked in seawater. Tire shop. Burning resin. And there are faint fruity elements: apple juice and overripe banana and cantaloupe. Peanut brittle (hadn’t gotten that before). On the palate, some of that melon sweetness returns, and continues on the finish, before being covered in ash. Laphroaig is an iconic Islay whisky and can be found for around $50. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 43% ABV. 10-year age statement. LAPHROAIG CASK STRENGTH BATCH 013 Slightly darker amber than the 10-Year (Pantone 143). How much room do we have for the litany of descriptors? Band-Aid. Engine Oil. Engine sludge. Sea-Breeze (the facial astringent) and sea breeze (the wind off the ocean). Propylene glycol (a.k.a. antifreeze). Nori. Wakame (i.e., kelp). Betadyne. Funk. Malted milk balls. Cocoa powder (especially immediately following the 10-Year). Alcohol unnoticeable on the nose. Oily and mouthcoating on the palate, with penetrating honey and candied ginger. Then the cask-strength alcohol, but held in check by everything else. Long finish: ash-coated smoky butterscotch. The Cask Strength is otherworldly. Not only does it have loads of complexity in terms of breadth, but the depth itself is deep. The bottle I own is the only LCS I’ve ever had. When I bought it, it was the only one that I’d seen in the wild. The Cask Strength can be found online for under $90. At that price, this may be the best value in the entire world of whisk(e)y. Would I buy this again? Yes. The nectar of Islay. 4.75 on the Distiller scale. 57.9% ABV. 10-year age statement. Batch 013. Bottled January 2021. LAPHROAIG CÀIRDEAS 2019 TRIPLE WOOD CASK STRENGTH Deep orange amber (Pantone 144). Peat smoke, ash, iodine, tangy barbecue sauce, wet cardboard box, tomato leaf, slightly overdone pancakes, carambola, concrete block, honeyed orange, a bit of caramel, and vanilla. On the palate: some light viscosity and sweetness, and 59.5% ABV makes a welcome appearance. Some honeyed sweetness on the finish, then white pepper, band-aid, iodine. Each expression of Laphroaig oozes complexity. Its Islay-ness terroir is far more evident than any Bordeaux or Burgundy; there’s no doubt whatsoever as to its birthplace. The Càirdeas adds another layer with the different cask finishes: bourbon, quarters, European oak, and Oloroso sherry. The quarter casks (I’m not aware of how much time the distillate is spent in them) in theory exposes more whisky to the wood, and somewhat obviates the lack of an age statement. I could nose this all night (I’d have to drink it too). It’s that good. The various releases can be found for $80-90. Would I buy it again? Yes. I rated it 4.0 on my last review (8/12/22). It’s better than that. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 59.5% ABV. NAS. Non-chill filtered. These individual releases exhibit Laphroaig typicity, but are nevertheless distinctive. Each is a complex, thought-provoking whisky. What surprised me most about this Showdown was the fruitiness and gentle sweetness that I detected in each, which was modestly more than I’d recalled. Laphroaig’s descriptors are more than just “burning hospital.” Laphroaig’s special bottlings, like the Càirdeas, are more old-school and conservative than Ardbeg, for example, who are far more provocative with their oddball offerings. I appreciate their more traditional approach. While Laphroaig isn’t something I drink every day, I always want a few of their bottlings in my inventory. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass. -
Laphroaig 10 Year Cask Strength (Batch 13)
Single Malt — Islay, Scotland
Reviewed November 17, 2023 (edited November 22, 2023)LAPHROAIG SHOWDOWN LAPHROAIG 10-YEAR LAPHROAIG CASK STRENGTH BATCH 013 LAPHROAIG CÀIDERAS 2019 TRIPLE WOOD CASK STRENGTH LAPHROAIG 15-YEAR 200TH ANNIVERSARY I sampled these over the course of three days. Day one was the 10-year and the Cask Strength; day two was the Càideras and the 15-year; and day three was all four of them together. I took preliminary notes on the first two days. On day three, I decided to rearrange the order, from sophisticated to more pugilistic—which happened to correspond to age in descending order, and ABV in ascending order. At any rate, on the third day I initially tasted them in this order, but then went back and forth between them all randomly. LAPHROAIG 15-YEAR 200TH ANNIVERSARY Brilliant amber color (Pantone 123). More sophisticated nose than the youthful and flamboyant Càirdeas: orange zest, porridge, capocollo, grilled asparagus, peach, baked apples. Later: cantaloupe (again). Mouthfeel not very viscous despite the 15-year age statement and wood contact. Palate is sweet with pear compote, vanilla, a little butterscotch, bacon, and honey. A touch of white pepper on the finish, with honey and dry leathery notes. The 15-year displays a muted Islay typicity; its characteristics are far less ostentatious than the other three. But that doesn’t mean its lackadaisical. Think of a bell curve: somewhat subtle on the nose (though still very complex), more robust on the palate, and then finishing elegantly. Think cozy cabin or wood-paneled library, fire in the fireplace, cold fall mist outside (Scotland or elsewhere), Mendelssohn’s Hebrides overture in the background. And this whisky, neat, with the bottle handy for a second pour. Pensive, contemplative, and refined. A quick Internet search shows that this expression can be found today for $500-$600 (it was a limited release). I think I paid around $100 a few years back, and I’m happy I did. Would I buy it again? No. I’m very glad that I did buy it at a far cheaper price, though. It’s wonderful, and I’m happy to be able to experience it (I’ve got a quarter of a bottle left). 4.5 on the Distiller scale (unchanged from my review on 8/12/22). 43% ABV. 15-year age statement. LAPHROAIG 10-YEAR Subtler amber color (Pantone 142). Kelp, saline, iodine, dank basement, and yes, burning peat. Terracotta pot (oddly like a note on some sangioveses), only this pot is of course soaked in seawater. Tire shop. Burning resin. And there are faint fruity elements: apple juice and overripe banana and cantaloupe. Peanut brittle (hadn’t gotten that before). On the palate, some of that melon sweetness returns, and continues on the finish, before being covered in ash. Laphroaig is an iconic Islay whisky and can be found for around $50. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 43% ABV. 10-year age statement. LAPHROAIG CASK STRENGTH BATCH 013 Slightly darker amber than the 10-Year (Pantone 143). How much room do we have for the litany of descriptors? Band-Aid. Engine Oil. Engine sludge. Sea-Breeze (the facial astringent) and sea breeze (the wind off the ocean). Propylene glycol (a.k.a. antifreeze). Nori. Wakame (i.e., kelp). Betadyne. Funk. Malted milk balls. Cocoa powder (especially immediately following the 10-Year). Alcohol unnoticeable on the nose. Oily and mouthcoating on the palate, with penetrating honey and candied ginger. Then the cask-strength alcohol, but held in check by everything else. Long finish: ash-coated smoky butterscotch. The Cask Strength is otherworldly. Not only does it have loads of complexity in terms of breadth, but the depth itself is deep. The bottle I own is the only LCS I’ve ever had. When I bought it, it was the only one that I’d seen in the wild. The Cask Strength can be found online for under $90. At that price, this may be the best value in the entire world of whisk(e)y. Would I buy this again? Yes. The nectar of Islay. 4.75 on the Distiller scale. 57.9% ABV. 10-year age statement. Batch 013. Bottled January 2021. LAPHROAIG CÀIRDEAS 2019 TRIPLE WOOD CASK STRENGTH Deep orange amber (Pantone 144). Peat smoke, ash, iodine, tangy barbecue sauce, wet cardboard box, tomato leaf, slightly overdone pancakes, carambola, concrete block, honeyed orange, a bit of caramel, and vanilla. On the palate: some light viscosity and sweetness, and 59.5% ABV makes a welcome appearance. Some honeyed sweetness on the finish, then white pepper, band-aid, iodine. Each expression of Laphroaig oozes complexity. Its Islay-ness terroir is far more evident than any Bordeaux or Burgundy; there’s no doubt whatsoever as to its birthplace. The Càirdeas adds another layer with the different cask finishes: bourbon, quarters, European oak, and Oloroso sherry. The quarter casks (I’m not aware of how much time the distillate is spent in them) in theory exposes more whisky to the wood, and somewhat obviates the lack of an age statement. I could nose this all night (I’d have to drink it too). It’s that good. The various releases can be found for $80-90. Would I buy it again? Yes. I rated it 4.0 on my last review (8/12/22). It’s better than that. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 59.5% ABV. NAS. Non-chill filtered. These individual releases exhibit Laphroaig typicity, but are nevertheless distinctive. Each is a complex, thought-provoking whisky. What surprised me most about this Showdown was the fruitiness and gentle sweetness that I detected in each, which was modestly more than I’d recalled. Laphroaig’s descriptors are more than just “burning hospital.” Laphroaig’s special bottlings, like the Càirdeas, are more old-school and conservative than Ardbeg, for example, who are far more provocative with their oddball offerings. I appreciate their more traditional approach. While Laphroaig isn’t something I drink every day, I always want a few of their bottlings in my inventory. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass. -
Laphroaig 10 Year
Single Malt — Islay, Scotland
Reviewed November 17, 2023 (edited December 6, 2023)LAPHROAIG SHOWDOWN LAPHROAIG 10-YEAR LAPHROAIG CASK STRENGTH BATCH 013 LAPHROAIG CÀIDERAS 2019 TRIPLE WOOD CASK STRENGTH LAPHROAIG 15-YEAR 200TH ANNIVERSARY I sampled these over the course of three days. Day one was the 10-year and the Cask Strength; day two was the Càideras and the 15-year; and day three was all four of them together. I took preliminary notes on the first two days. On day three, I decided to rearrange the order, from sophisticated to more pugilistic—which happened to correspond to age in descending order, and ABV in ascending order. At any rate, on the third day I initially tasted them in this order, but then went back and forth between them all randomly. LAPHROAIG 15-YEAR 200TH ANNIVERSARY Brilliant amber color (Pantone 123). More sophisticated nose than the youthful and flamboyant Càirdeas: orange zest, porridge, capocollo, grilled asparagus, peach, baked apples. Later: cantaloupe (again). Mouthfeel not very viscous despite the 15-year age statement and wood contact. Palate is sweet with pear compote, vanilla, a little butterscotch, bacon, and honey. A touch of white pepper on the finish, with honey and dry leathery notes. The 15-year displays a muted Islay typicity; its characteristics are far less ostentatious than the other three. But that doesn’t mean its lackadaisical. Think of a bell curve: somewhat subtle on the nose (though still very complex), more robust on the palate, and then finishing elegantly. Think cozy cabin or wood-paneled library, fire in the fireplace, cold fall mist outside (Scotland or elsewhere), Mendelssohn’s Hebrides overture in the background. And this whisky, neat, with the bottle handy for a second pour. Pensive, contemplative, and refined. A quick Internet search shows that this expression can be found today for $500-$600 (it was a limited release). I think I paid around $100 a few years back, and I’m happy I did. Would I buy it again? No. I’m very glad that I did buy it at a far cheaper price, though. It’s wonderful, and I’m happy to be able to experience it (I’ve got a quarter of a bottle left). 4.5 on the Distiller scale (unchanged from my review on 8/12/22). 43% ABV. 15-year age statement. LAPHROAIG 10-YEAR Subtler amber color (Pantone 142). Kelp, saline, iodine, dank basement, and yes, burning peat. Terracotta pot (oddly like a note on some sangioveses), only this pot is of course soaked in seawater. Tire shop. Burning resin. And there are faint fruity elements: apple juice and overripe banana and cantaloupe. Peanut brittle (hadn’t gotten that before). On the palate, some of that melon sweetness returns, and continues on the finish, before being covered in ash. Laphroaig is an iconic Islay whisky and can be found for around $50. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 43% ABV. 10-year age statement. LAPHROAIG CASK STRENGTH BATCH 013 Slightly darker amber than the 10-Year (Pantone 143). How much room do we have for the litany of descriptors? Band-Aid. Engine Oil. Engine sludge. Sea-Breeze (the facial astringent) and sea breeze (the wind off the ocean). Propylene glycol (a.k.a. antifreeze). Nori. Wakame (i.e., kelp). Betadyne. Funk. Malted milk balls. Cocoa powder (especially immediately following the 10-Year). Alcohol unnoticeable on the nose. Oily and mouthcoating on the palate, with penetrating honey and candied ginger. Then the cask-strength alcohol, but held in check by everything else. Long finish: ash-coated smoky butterscotch. The Cask Strength is otherworldly. Not only does it have loads of complexity in terms of breadth, but the depth itself is deep. The bottle I own is the only LCS I’ve ever had. When I bought it, it was the only one that I’d seen in the wild. The Cask Strength can be found online for under $90. At that price, this may be the best value in the entire world of whisk(e)y. Would I buy this again? Yes. The nectar of Islay. 4.75 on the Distiller scale. 57.9% ABV. 10-year age statement. Batch 013. Bottled January 2021. LAPHROAIG CÀIRDEAS 2019 TRIPLE WOOD CASK STRENGTH Deep orange amber (Pantone 144). Peat smoke, ash, iodine, tangy barbecue sauce, wet cardboard box, tomato leaf, slightly overdone pancakes, carambola, concrete block, honeyed orange, a bit of caramel, and vanilla. On the palate: some light viscosity and sweetness, and 59.5% ABV makes a welcome appearance. Some honeyed sweetness on the finish, then white pepper, band-aid, iodine. Each expression of Laphroaig oozes complexity. Its Islay-ness terroir is far more evident than any Bordeaux or Burgundy; there’s no doubt whatsoever as to its birthplace. The Càirdeas adds another layer with the different cask finishes: bourbon, quarters, European oak, and Oloroso sherry. The quarter casks (I’m not aware of how much time the distillate is spent in them) in theory exposes more whisky to the wood, and somewhat obviates the lack of an age statement. I could nose this all night (I’d have to drink it too). It’s that good. The various releases can be found for $80-90. Would I buy it again? Yes. I rated it 4.0 on my last review (8/12/22). It’s better than that. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 59.5% ABV. NAS. Non-chill filtered. These individual releases exhibit Laphroaig typicity, but are nevertheless distinctive. Each is a complex, thought-provoking whisky. What surprised me most about this Showdown was the fruitiness and gentle sweetness that I detected in each, which was modestly more than I’d recalled. Laphroaig’s descriptors are more than just “burning hospital.” Laphroaig’s special bottlings, like the Càirdeas, are more old-school and conservative than Ardbeg, for example, who are far more provocative with their oddball offerings. I appreciate their more traditional approach. While Laphroaig isn’t something I drink every day, I always want a few of their bottlings in my inventory. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass. -
Laphroaig 15 Year 200th Anniversary
Single Malt — Islay , Scotland
Reviewed November 17, 2023 (edited November 18, 2023)LAPHROAIG SHOWDOWN LAPHROAIG 10-YEAR LAPHROAIG CASK STRENGTH BATCH 013 LAPHROAIG CÀIDERAS 2019 TRIPLE WOOD CASK STRENGTH LAPHROAIG 15-YEAR 200TH ANNIVERSARY I sampled these over the course of three days. Day one was the 10-year and the Cask Strength; day two was the Càideras and the 15-year; and day three was all four of them together. I took preliminary notes on the first two days. On day three, I decided to rearrange the order, from sophisticated to more pugilistic—which happened to correspond to age in descending order, and ABV in ascending order. At any rate, on the third day I initially tasted them in this order, but then went back and forth between them all randomly. LAPHROAIG 15-YEAR 200TH ANNIVERSARY Brilliant amber color (Pantone 123). More sophisticated nose than the youthful and flamboyant Càirdeas: orange zest, porridge, capocollo, grilled asparagus, peach, baked apples. Later: cantaloupe (again). Mouthfeel not very viscous despite the 15-year age statement and wood contact. Palate is sweet with pear compote, vanilla, a little butterscotch, bacon, and honey. A touch of white pepper on the finish, with honey and dry leathery notes. The 15-year displays a muted Islay typicity; its characteristics are far less ostentatious than the other three. But that doesn’t mean its lackadaisical. Think of a bell curve: somewhat subtle on the nose (though still very complex), more robust on the palate, and then finishing elegantly. Think cozy cabin or wood-paneled library, fire in the fireplace, cold fall mist outside (Scotland or elsewhere), Mendelssohn’s Hebrides overture in the background. And this whisky, neat, with the bottle handy for a second pour. Pensive, contemplative, and refined. A quick Internet search shows that this expression can be found today for $500-$600 (it was a limited release). I think I paid around $100 a few years back, and I’m happy I did. Would I buy it again? No. I’m very glad that I did buy it at a far cheaper price, though. It’s wonderful, and I’m happy to be able to experience it (I’ve got a quarter of a bottle left). 4.5 on the Distiller scale (unchanged from my review on 8/12/22). 43% ABV. 15-year age statement. LAPHROAIG 10-YEAR Subtler amber color (Pantone 142). Kelp, saline, iodine, dank basement, and yes, burning peat. Terracotta pot (oddly like a note on some sangioveses), only this pot is of course soaked in seawater. Tire shop. Burning resin. And there are faint fruity elements: apple juice and overripe banana and cantaloupe. Peanut brittle (hadn’t gotten that before). On the palate, some of that melon sweetness returns, and continues on the finish, before being covered in ash. Laphroaig is an iconic Islay whisky and can be found for around $50. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 43% ABV. 10-year age statement. LAPHROAIG CASK STRENGTH BATCH 013 Slightly darker amber than the 10-Year (Pantone 143). How much room do we have for the litany of descriptors? Band-Aid. Engine Oil. Engine sludge. Sea-Breeze (the facial astringent) and sea breeze (the wind off the ocean). Propylene glycol (a.k.a. antifreeze). Nori. Wakame (i.e., kelp). Betadyne. Funk. Malted milk balls. Cocoa powder (especially immediately following the 10-Year). Alcohol unnoticeable on the nose. Oily and mouthcoating on the palate, with penetrating honey and candied ginger. Then the cask-strength alcohol, but held in check by everything else. Long finish: ash-coated smoky butterscotch. The Cask Strength is otherworldly. Not only does it have loads of complexity in terms of breadth, but the depth itself is deep. The bottle I own is the only LCS I’ve ever had. When I bought it, it was the only one that I’d seen in the wild. The Cask Strength can be found online for under $90. At that price, this may be the best value in the entire world of whisk(e)y. Would I buy this again? Yes. The nectar of Islay. 4.75 on the Distiller scale. 57.9% ABV. 10-year age statement. Batch 013. Bottled January 2021. LAPHROAIG CÀIRDEAS 2019 TRIPLE WOOD CASK STRENGTH Deep orange amber (Pantone 144). Peat smoke, ash, iodine, tangy barbecue sauce, wet cardboard box, tomato leaf, slightly overdone pancakes, carambola, concrete block, honeyed orange, a bit of caramel, and vanilla. On the palate: some light viscosity and sweetness, and 59.5% ABV makes a welcome appearance. Some honeyed sweetness on the finish, then white pepper, band-aid, iodine. Each expression of Laphroaig oozes complexity. Its Islay-ness terroir is far more evident than any Bordeaux or Burgundy; there’s no doubt whatsoever as to its birthplace. The Càirdeas adds another layer with the different cask finishes: bourbon, quarters, European oak, and Oloroso sherry. The quarter casks (I’m not aware of how much time the distillate is spent in them) in theory exposes more whisky to the wood, and somewhat obviates the lack of an age statement. I could nose this all night (I’d have to drink it too). It’s that good. The various releases can be found for $80-90. Would I buy it again? Yes. I rated it 4.0 on my last review (8/12/22). It’s better than that. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 59.5% ABV. NAS. Non-chill filtered. These individual releases exhibit Laphroaig typicity, but are nevertheless distinctive. Each is a complex, thought-provoking whisky. What surprised me most about this Showdown was the fruitiness and gentle sweetness that I detected in each, which was modestly more than I’d recalled. Laphroaig’s descriptors are more than just “burning hospital.” Laphroaig’s special bottlings, like the Càirdeas, are more old-school and conservative than Ardbeg, for example, who are far more provocative with their oddball offerings. I appreciate their more traditional approach. While Laphroaig isn’t something I drink every day, I always want a few of their bottlings in my inventory. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass. -
Blue Spot 7 Year Cask Strength Single Pot Still
Single Pot Still — Ireland
Reviewed November 16, 2023 (edited December 12, 2023)No tasting notes, as I had this at a restaurant. But I was blown away. I've had the Green and Red, but not this. I've got to find some! 4.75 on the Distiller scale. -
Woodford Reserve Master's Collection Five-Malt Stouted Mash
Other Whiskey — Kentucky, USA
Reviewed November 11, 2023 (edited January 7, 2024)And now, a moment of silence: tonight is the end of the line for this bottle, which has been a favorite of mine since I first bought it shortly after it was released in 2021. I had never been a fan of Woodford Reserve until they began releasing their Master’s Collection series. The Batch Proof 123.2, released in 2019 and which unfortunately I was never able to properly review, was a favorite. This Five-Stouted Mash is another favorite, albeit for completely different reasons. Woodford describes the color as “antique orange,” which on the Pantone spectrum is about 159. The nose is amazing: tasted blind, one might initially believe this to be a Russian Imperial Stout—consistent with the stated intent of the master distiller. The nose shows mocha, Mexican mole, dark chocolate orange wedges, dried Ancho chiles, and vanilla. Rich, viscous mouthfeel, with cocoa powder and a light chile spice, before finishing with café Cubano, dark chocolate-covered coffee beans, and some vanilla. As I’ve noted in previous reviews, when I first tried the Five-Malt-Stouted Mash, I thought it would be a polarizing, love-it-or-hate-it whiskey. A not-statistically-significant sample size of two (myself and my good friend @ataylor156) confirmed this; I loved it, and he hated it. Which turned out to be a blessing, because it meant that I didn’t have to share any more with him. This is one of those whiskies that simply must be tried; it truly offers a uniquely hedonistic and intellectually satisfying whiskey experience. As incredible as this is, however, I can imagine it would be even better at a higher proof. I’m sad to see this one go. Actually, sobbing uncontrollably. An Internet search shows that this can be found for around $140. Would I buy this again? Yes. Unequivocally. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. 90.4 proof. -
Four Roses Single Barrel Bourbon
Bourbon — Kentucky, USA
Reviewed November 6, 2023 (edited November 16, 2023)FOUR ROSES SHOWDOWN Four Roses Small Batch Select Four Roses Single Barrel (NS 52-1N) I don’t think Four Roses gets enough credit—including from me. A few years back, a local store used to carry Four Roses Barrel Strength Single Barrel Select, and I loved those (they aren’t referenced on the Four Roses website, so I don’t know if they’re still being produced, though they can still be found online). I’m a big fan of the still-somewhat-new Small Batch Select—though I hate saying it, because I don’t want the supply to dry up. And I’ve also enjoyed the various single barrel offerings. I currently have two in inventory: the Small Batch Select (previously reviewed 5/22/22), and this Single Barrel, which I’ve not yet reviewed. Two good candidates for another Showdown. Four Roses Small Batch Select Clear dried orange color, between Pantone 151 and 152. Fruity nose shows dried apricot, tart apple, toffee, sweet honey, Frosted Mini Wheats (despite no wheat in the mashbill), vanilla, a touch of white pepper, and spearmint. Palate shows more sweet toffee, sidestepping the predicted alcohol and moving towards cinnamon, char, white pepper, and vanilla. This might be the smoothest 104-proof bourbon I’ve ever had. But don’t conflate smoothness with simplicity: it’s no small feat to hide 104 proof points under a soft blanket, and there’s several descriptors vying for attention. I’d like to see this proofed up. Four Roses Small Batch Select can be found for under $60. Would I buy it again? Yes. Actually, I’d already done that the first time I tasted it. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 104 proof. NAS (6-7 years, according to company website). Non-chill filtered. From recipes OBSV, OBSK, OBSF, OESV, OESK, OESF. Four Roses Single Barrel (NS 52-1N) Same clear dry orange Pantone 151/152 color. Nose shows carrot cake, dried orange, marzipan, apples, vanilla, and some spearmint. There’s a paraffin note that would be consistent with the longer wood aging. A bit of viscosity on the palate, with sweet orange and a pleasant Kentucky hug. There’s some rye spice on the finish, sweet espresso, black licorice, and a healthy dose of oaky vanilla. This Single Barrel is outstanding. It’s got everything: complexity, well-integrated proof, and an easy (and guiltless) drinkability. The various iterations can be found for under $50, which represents high relative value. Would I buy one again? Yes. No question. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 100 proof. NAS (7-9 years, according to company website). Warehouse NS; Barrel 52-1N. I’ve been a big fan of the Small Batch Select as soon as it was introduced to the market. But I’m surprised that I’m rating this particular Single Barrel higher. Both of these bourbons are excellent, for different reasons. The Small Batch Select is sweet and subtly complex; it is balanced, smooth, and very enjoyable. The Single Barrel shows more differentiated complexity consistent with its longer time spent in barrel; the marginally lower proof also comes across more strongly—and this is a compliment. Both have a strong 100-104 proof, but I’d never use either of these in a cocktail. These are bourbons that are meant to be savored, slowly. N.B.: All spirts tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.
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