Tastes

BLENDED SCOTCH WHISKY SHOWDOWN Dewar’s White Label Pig’s Nose Johnnie Walker Green Label Continuing to work through whiskies in my collection that I’ve yet to review. While this trio may appear incongruous—the Dewar’s and Pig’s Nose are bottom-shelf, while the Johnnie Walker 15 is top-shelf—they are the only blended scotch whiskies that I own. Further, the Dewar’s and Pig’s Nose are technically Blended Scotch Whisky, which means that they are comprised of both malt and grain whiskies. The Green Label is a Blended Malt Whisky, which contains only single-malt whiskies. I’ve not had any of these in quite some time (i.e., years). Based on what I recall, I believe the scores will be ranked in ascending order as I sample them alphabetically. Let’s find out. Dewar’s White Label Color is a clear Pantone 129. Very muted nose shows light pear, saline, and hay notes. There’s some surprising viscosity on the palate, which has a sweet honey element, transitioning to gentle white pepper and even a little vanilla on the medium-length finish. I’ve never purchased Dewar’s White Label. I recall that this bottle came as an already-opened party “gift” some years ago and has remained at its current 20% level since then. After tasting it, however, I must say that I’m surprised: there are no intrinsic flaws per se. Rather, the positive attributes that it does have are lightweight, which is merely less positive rather than overtly negative. I did not pour my falsely prejudiced swill down the drain, dear reader; my first of three Glencairn glasses now sits on my desk, empty. Still, Dewar’s White Label should not be considered an “introductory” whisky for the neophyte (Oban 14, while more expensive, is wonderful for both the newbie and connoisseur). This is a whisky intended to be cheap scotch for restaurants and parties, and for that I may one day be thankful if I find myself in a situation with no other alternative. The economics are obvious: 40% ABV is the bare minimum for a whisky designation, and ostensibly the unknown blending elements are secured on the cheap by Bacardi, it’s owner, and watered down as well. Dewar’s White Label is readily available for about $25. Would I buy it (for the first time)? No. But that doesn’t mean that I’d turn my nose up at it at my son’s frat party during Parent’s Weekend. In fact, I’d enjoy it. 3.0 on the Distiller scale. 40% ABV. NAS. Pig’s Nose Color is a touch darker than the Dewar’s; Pantone 142. Sweet honey nose, with added apples, hay, salt, and the tiniest bit of peat. Mouthfeel is slightly less viscous than the Dewar’s, but is not devoid of it. The palate exhibits more honeyed sweetness. Very little spiciness, and a short finish. Still, Pig’s Nose comes across as more robust than the Dewar’s: think simple, but at a higher volume. Whence the name? From the box: “’Tis said that our scotch is as soft and as smooth as a pig’s nose.” To continue the alliteration: not only soft and smooth, but also a quite unporcine sweet (which is not a bad thing). Perhaps the marketing department couldn’t conjure a complementary concise commentary. Pig’s Nose is widely available for about $30. Would I buy it again? No, for the same rationale behind my assessment of the Dewar’s. No lipstick on this pig, but the pork still tastes pretty good. 3.0 on the Distiller scale. 40% ABV. 5-Year age statement. Johnnie Walker Green Label Color is deeper than the Pig’s Nose; Pantone 130. Nose, palate, finish: everything about the Green Label is superior to the previous two entrants. Nose emits honey, salt, stewed-apple oatmeal, cured deli ham, a floral gardenia, and the slightest whiff of smoke. Lightly viscous palate explodes with the same flavors, with added intensity (“explodes” is not histrionic here). There’s some white-pepper spiciness, and a long finish with the sweet, salt, and smoke of bacon jam. As a blended malt whisky, Green Label is a blend of Talisker, Linkwood, Cragganmore, and Caol Ila (there may be others). After hearing several online whisky acquaintances sing the praises of Johnnie Walker Green Label, I decided to purchase a bottle (this was a few years ago). It was not an easy task, as I was unable to find one quickly. When I first tasted it some time ago, I was unable to appreciate the enthusiasm. I now rectify that shortcoming. JW Green Label retails for around $60 today, which is about what I paid for it some time ago. Would I buy it again? Yes. This is a complex whisky with a 15-year age statement (there could be older components), and significant value given these attributes. I’d love to experience it at a higher proof; the aromatics and flavor profile could certainly support it. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 43% ABV. 15-Year age statement. Separately: @stephaniemoreno rates this whisky at 95, and I concur—kind of. Green Label is very good. But it’s also problematic that the “Tasting Notes” by Stephanie and others are on some kind of a 0-100 scale, but the actual users have a 0-5 scale in quarter-point increments. This is bad design, plain and simple: I do know a thing or two about UX, and I say this from the perspective of someone who founded (and sold) a consumer-facing software company. The scales should be the same for both expert and user. There are other ways to improve basic functionality as well, and I’ve emailed these to Distiller with little success. Off my soapbox—for now. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass

BUFFALO TRACE SHOWDOWN Buffalo Trace Eagle Rare Continuing to work through whiskies in my collection that I’ve yet to review. I’ve reviewed numerous BT products, from the low end to the high end, but surprisingly neither of these two staples. The comparison isn’t perfect, as the BT is NAS bourbon and the Eagle Rare carries a 10-year age statement, but they’re both 90 proof and bottled by the same producer. Buffalo Trace The Buffalo Trace color shows as a very bourbonesque Pantone 152. The fruity nose is more subtle than the Eagle Rare, with apple pie, orange peel, dried cherries, and gentle oak. The whiskey is expressive in the mouth and coats your tongue, though it lacks viscosity. The oak is more noticeable on the palate, where vanilla also makes an appearance. The 90 proof is kept well in check on the finish, with more oak and vanilla. I’ve been a Buffalo Trace fan—but not a fanboy—for years. Many bourbon drinkers love it. There are no hard edges; there’s lots of bourbon typicity; and it’s very, very smooth—almost too smooth. It’s a little pedestrian for my taste, despite the hype. It’s not as scarce in my location as it appears to be in other markets, and I’m typically able to pick it up (when it’s around) for about $45. The proof is too low for cocktails (though I rarely drink cocktails), and it lacks proof and complexity. But it can be enjoyed neat, which is how I like it. Would I buy it again? Yes. Good, not great. 3.75 on the Distiller scale. 90 proof; NAS (believed to be 6-8 years). Eagle Rare Surprisingly (given the age statement and longer wood/char contact), this Eagle Rare is ever-so-slightly a shade lighter than the BT, but not in a large enough increment to warrant a color other than Pantone 152. Different nose than the BT: a barbecue-sauce tang, leather, pomander, vanilla, some coconut, and some cool spearmint. The palate has more gumption than the BT: there is a juicy orangeness, along with clove, vanilla and a welcoming cinnamon burn—but just a little. The coconut appears again on the finish, along with some leather and a lingering vanilla. Like the BT, the Eagle Rare is very smooth. But there’s more: in addition to the 10-year age statement (which carries merit in and of itself), there’s more complexity, and more kick. Eagle Rare can be found for $80-90 online; I paid significantly less for my bottles. This is a fantastic sipper; I’d never use it in a cocktail. Would I buy it again? Not for awhile, because I have a good amount of it already. So to answer that question, yes—once I’ve run out. For me, this is a must-have bourbon in any collection. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 90 proof; 10-year age statement. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

BUFFALO TRACE SHOWDOWN Buffalo Trace Eagle Rare Continuing to work through whiskies in my collection that I’ve yet to review. I’ve reviewed numerous BT products, from the low end to the high end, but surprisingly neither of these two staples. The comparison isn’t perfect, as the BT is NAS bourbon and the Eagle Rare carries a 10-year age statement, but they’re both 90 proof and bottled by the same producer. Buffalo Trace The Buffalo Trace color shows as a very bourbonesque Pantone 152. The fruity nose is more subtle than the Eagle Rare, with apple pie, orange peel, dried cherries, and gentle oak. The whiskey is expressive in the mouth and coats your tongue, though it lacks viscosity. The oak is more noticeable on the palate, where vanilla also makes an appearance. The 90 proof is kept well in check on the finish, with more oak and vanilla. I’ve been a Buffalo Trace fan—but not a fanboy—for years. Many bourbon drinkers love it. There are no hard edges; there’s lots of bourbon typicity; and it’s very, very smooth—almost too smooth. It’s a little pedestrian for my taste, despite the hype. It’s not as scarce in my location as it appears to be in other markets, and I’m typically able to pick it up (when it’s around) for about $45. The proof is too low for cocktails (though I rarely drink cocktails), and it lacks proof and complexity. But it can be enjoyed neat, which is how I like it. Would I buy it again? Yes. Good, not great. 3.75 on the Distiller scale. 90 proof; NAS (believed to be 6-8 years). Eagle Rare Surprisingly (given the age statement and longer wood/char contact), this Eagle Rare is ever-so-slightly a shade lighter than the BT, but not in a large enough increment to warrant a color other than Pantone 152. Different nose than the BT: a barbecue-sauce tang, leather, pomander, vanilla, some coconut, and some cool spearmint. The palate has more gumption than the BT: there is a juicy orangeness, along with clove, vanilla and a welcoming cinnamon burn—but just a little. The coconut appears again on the finish, along with some leather and a lingering vanilla. Like the BT, the Eagle Rare is very smooth. But there’s more: in addition to the 10-year age statement (which carries merit in and of itself), there’s more complexity, and more kick. Eagle Rare can be found for $80-90 online; I paid significantly less for my bottles. This is a fantastic sipper; I’d never use it in a cocktail. Would I buy it again? Not for awhile, because I have a good amount of it already. So to answer that question, yes—once I’ve run out. For me, this is a must-have bourbon in any collection. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 90 proof; 10-year age statement. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

HAZELBURN SHOWDOWN Hazelburn 8-Year Hazelburn 14-Year Oloroso Cask Hazelburn is a brand distilled by Springbank. While I’ve reviewed the Hazelburn 14 previously (April 21, 2022), I have yet to review the 8-year offering. I love the Hazelburn 14, and I love Springbank, so let’s see how the 8-year-old compares. Hazelburn 8-Year Clear, light Pantone 129. Fruity nose shows an effusive cornucopia of dried apricots, an Oban-like pear nectar, wet hay, apples, peach cobbler, a little pineapple, and salt. A little oily and mouthcoating on the palate; the fruits appear initially, and are followed with a honeyed sweetness. The finish begins with white pepper spice, a Springbank peanut-brittle note that I usually notice, and some drying tannins on a long finish, along with a slight smoky element—even though this is a completely unpeated whisky, as is the case with all Hazelburn. The nose is initially reserved, but with patience becomes quite fruity. The slight smokiness is unusual for the lack of peat, and the drying finish detracts from the overall experience. The general effect is a little rustic. This is a whisky that opens up with air, and becomes significantly better after 20 minutes or so. It looks like this can be found online for ~$200. I paid less than half that a few years back; the high price is due to its scarcity. Would I buy it again? Not at the price it’s commanding now (if it can be found), but I’m very glad that I have own a bottle. 3.75 on the Distiller scale. 46% ABV. 5,100 bottles produced. Unpeated; non-chill filtered; no added coloring. Hazelburn 14-Year Oloroso Cask The sherry-influenced color is analogous to a clear Pantone 160. Nose shows raisins, brown sugar, prunes, hazelnuts, toffee, some bacon fat, cocoa, and that Springbank peanut brittle. Beautiful palate in terms of both mouthfeel and taste, with more dark fruits, and a sweet and savory component like fig paste on prosciutto. White pepper spiciness, and again, that Springbank peanut brittle on the finish, along with some smoke and a lighter version of the drying tannins that I experienced with the 8-Year bottling. I love this whisky. And what’s not to like? It is very complex, with sweet, salty, and smoky notes, buttressed by a relatively high ABV. I didn’t get the tannic notes that I’m experiencing now on my previous review. Easy 4.5 on the Distiller scale. 49.3% ABV. Distilled October 2004; bottled February 2019; 9,900 bottles produced. Non-chill filtered; no added coloring. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

HAZELBURN SHOWDOWN Hazelburn 8-Year Hazelburn 14-Year Oloroso Cask Hazelburn is a brand distilled by Springbank. While I’ve reviewed the Hazelburn 14 previously (April 21, 2022), I have yet to review the 8-year offering. I love the Hazelburn 14, and I love Springbank, so let’s see how the 8-year-old compares. Hazelburn 8-Year Clear, light Pantone 129. Fruity nose shows an effusive cornucopia of dried apricots, an Oban-like pear nectar, wet hay, apples, peach cobbler, a little pineapple, and salt. A little oily and mouthcoating on the palate; the fruits appear initially, and are followed with a honeyed sweetness. The finish begins with white pepper spice, a Springbank peanut-brittle note that I usually notice, and some drying tannins on a long finish, along with a slight smoky element—even though this is a completely unpeated whisky, as is the case with all Hazelburn. The nose is initially reserved, but with patience becomes quite fruity. The slight smokiness is unusual for the lack of peat, and the drying finish detracts from the overall experience. The general effect is a little rustic. This is a whisky that opens up with air, and becomes significantly better after 20 minutes or so. It looks like this can be found online for ~$200. I paid less than half that a few years back; the high price is due to its scarcity. Would I buy it again? Not at the price it’s commanding now (if it can be found), but I’m very glad that I have own a bottle. 3.75 on the Distiller scale. 46% ABV. 5,100 bottles produced. Unpeated; non-chill filtered; no added coloring. Hazelburn 14-Year Oloroso Cask The sherry-influenced color is analogous to a clear Pantone 160. Nose shows raisins, brown sugar, prunes, hazelnuts, toffee, some bacon fat, cocoa, and that Springbank peanut brittle. Beautiful palate in terms of both mouthfeel and taste, with more dark fruits, and a sweet and savory component like fig paste on prosciutto. White pepper spiciness, and again, that Springbank peanut brittle on the finish, along with some smoke and a lighter version of the drying tannins that I experienced with the 8-Year bottling. I love this whisky. And what’s not to like? It is very complex, with sweet, salty, and smoky notes, buttressed by a relatively high ABV. I didn’t get the tannic notes that I’m experiencing now on my previous review. Easy 4.5 on the Distiller scale. 49.3% ABV. Distilled October 2004; bottled February 2019; 9,900 bottles produced. Non-chill filtered; no added coloring. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

Color is a clear Pantone 138. Pleasant nose shows orange oil, sweet corn pudding, roasted marshmallow, a touch of peanut brittle, and rosin. The palate is not viscous, but does leave a mark (pun intended) with some oak and a nice cinnamon spice on the back end, both of which continue on the shortish finish. Maker’s Mark, a wheated bourbon, has been getting better and better over the years. First, the distillery introduced Maker’s 46, which has a slightly higher proof and uses additional wood staves for flavor. This was the genesis of their wood-finishing series, with numerous private-barrel selections as well as the limited-release versions over the past three years: the FAE, BRP, and BEP series, and then its Cellar Aged bourbon this year. I’ve had the first three, as well as some of the private-barrel selections, and loved them all. A good friend has the extremely-difficult-to-get Cellar Aged bottle (my entire state only received 12 bottles total), and it’s been getting rave reviews. I’m sure I’ll like that as well—assuming he lets me! Maker’s entry-level offering is 90 proof; Maker’s 46 is 94 proof, and the Cask Strength is usually in the 110-115 proof range. The 101 is, of course, 101 proof, which many consider a sweet spot. While the 46 uses extra wood staves, the 101 is simply the 90-proof bottled at 101 proof. But what a difference the extra proof makes! This offering can be found for $40; and while the 101 proof would be nice for a Manhattan or Old Fashioned (I actually like higher proof bourbons for cocktails), this one is a fantastic daily sipper when poured neat. It’s not terribly complex, but it’s very good: sweet with a nice Kentucky hug, and no woody tannins or bitterness. Careful with this one; it goes down easy. Would I buy it again? Yes. Very good value. 4.0 on the Distiller scale, considering the value aspect. 101 proof. No age statement. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

A123 BARREL PROOF SHOWDOWN Elijah Craig Barrel Proof A123 Larceny Barrel Proof A123 Continuing to work through bottles in my collection that I’ve yet to review. I’m a huge fan of Elijah Craig Barrel Proof (ECBP), and have most of their triannual releases going back a few years. The brand itself has been around for just over ten years. Larceny Barrel Proof (LBP) is also a triannual release, though it has only been around for about three years. The “A123” designation refers to which of the three annual releases (January, May, September) the bottle is. The “A” signifies the first release of the year; the “1” stands for the month of January. The “23” means the offering is in 2023. Following these A123 guidelines, “B523” for example would be the second release of 2023: “B” is the second, “5” is May, and “23” is 2023. This methodology can be applied to any release. Both ECBP and LBP are products of the Heaven Hill distillery; hence the same release designation. Both are bourbon, but the ECBP has rye in its mashbill, whereas the LBP employs wheat rather than rye. With both barrel proofs coming from the same distiller and release periods—not to mention the fact that the two differ in proof by only 0.2—I thought it would be an interesting exercise to compare them side-by-side. That being said, a 125-proof bourbon is not something to jump straight into; so I had a good splash of Henry McKenna, also a Heaven Hill product, as a 100-proof warmup. Elijah Craig Barrel Proof A123 Quite dark in color; Pantone 160. Wonderfully complex nose evokes dark chocolate covered cherries, both candy and caramel apples, root beer, pomander, Golden Grahams cereal, vanilla, and a whiff of dust. Alcohol more noticeable than the LBP, despite the proofs being nearly identical. Palate has some viscosity, as well as more dark chocolate cherries and some espresso bitterness. The alcohol is noticeable, transitioning to a spicy cinnamon burn with juicy apples, and a touch of woody tannins; long vanilla finish. I’ve never met an ECBP that I didn’t like. This one is very good, but it’s not my favorite release. That’s not a damning statement; rather, it speaks to the high bar that this brand has set. I try to buy each and every ECBP release, but I sometimes don’t see them in my neck of the woods. When I do see them, they’re typically about $80. Would I buy this again? Every single release, if I could. 4.25 stars on the Distiller scale. 125.6 proof. Non-chill filtered. 12-year age statement. Mashbill: 78% corn, 12% malted barley, 10% rye. Larceny Barrel Proof A123 Dark, but just a shade lighter than the ECBP; Pantone 159. Cracker Jack, warm apple pie with a pat of butter, Chinese five-spice, warm cola concentrate, and some caramel. Pervasive mouthfeel shows viscosity similar to the ECBP; alcohol on both nose and palate is more hidden, though certainly present. Long finish with a smooth cappuccino element, along with some vanilla. As Keith Jackson used to say during a college football broadcast: “Whoaaaaaah, Nellie!” This LBP A123 is fantastic, like a satisfying home-cooked meal in front of a warm fire. I bought this in a store that is off the beaten path for me, but I’m heading there again soon! I don’t recall exactly what I paid, but LBP can typically be found for $60-70. More, please! Would I buy it again? I’m breaking out my wallet right now. Not to be missed. 4.5 stars on the Distiller scale. 125.8 proof. Non-chill filtered. 6- to 8-year age statement. Mashbill: 68% corn, 20% wheat, 12% malted barley. Barrel-proof bourbons are my favorite: there is no water adulteration. Both of these are non-chill filtered, so you’re getting the esters and fatty acids that are largely captured (and removed) in a normal filtration process. It’s more natural. It’s pure—straight from the barrel. Both of these A123 releases command your attention, as a barrel-proof bourbon should. They are beautiful and sensual and voluptuous and will ruin you if you’re not careful—and they know it. But you keep coming back for more. The LBP A123 is really, really good. It’s effusive in your nostrils, saturates your palate, and wraps around your tongue, snuggling it like a big, warm blanket. It is smoother than the ECBP (though the ECBP certainly isn’t unsmooth; this could be a function of the rye vs wheat component of the ECBP). The LBP finish goes on and on and on. Same distiller, nearly identical barrel proof, different ages, different mashbill: despite the fact that I’m an unabashed ECBP fanboy, I prefer the LBP here. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

A123 BARREL PROOF SHOWDOWN Elijah Craig Barrel Proof A123 Larceny Barrel Proof A123 Continuing to work through bottles in my collection that I’ve yet to review. I’m a huge fan of Elijah Craig Barrel Proof (ECBP), and have most of their triannual releases going back a few years. The brand itself has been around for just over ten years. Larceny Barrel Proof (LBP) is also a triannual release, though it has only been around for about three years. The “A123” designation refers to which of the three annual releases (January, May, September) the bottle is. The “A” signifies the first release of the year; the “1” stands for the month of January. The “23” means the offering is in 2023. Following these A123 guidelines, “B523” for example would be the second release of 2023: “B” is the second, “5” is May, and “23” is 2023. This methodology can be applied to any release. Both ECBP and LBP are products of the Heaven Hill distillery; hence the same release designation. Both are bourbon, but the ECBP has rye in its mashbill, whereas the LBP employs wheat rather than rye. With both barrel proofs coming from the same distiller and release periods—not to mention the fact that the two differ in proof by only 0.2—I thought it would be an interesting exercise to compare them side-by-side. That being said, a 125-proof bourbon is not something to jump straight into; so I had a good splash of Henry McKenna, also a Heaven Hill product, as a 100-proof warmup. Elijah Craig Barrel Proof A123 Quite dark in color; Pantone 160. Wonderfully complex nose evokes dark chocolate covered cherries, both candy and caramel apples, root beer, pomander, Golden Grahams cereal, vanilla, and a whiff of dust. Alcohol more noticeable than the LBP, despite the proofs being nearly identical. Palate has some viscosity, as well as more dark chocolate cherries and some espresso bitterness. The alcohol is noticeable, transitioning to a spicy cinnamon burn with juicy apples, and a touch of woody tannins; long vanilla finish. I’ve never met an ECBP that I didn’t like. This one is very good, but it’s not my favorite release. That’s not a damning statement; rather, it speaks to the high bar that this brand has set. I try to buy each and every ECBP release, but I sometimes don’t see them in my neck of the woods. When I do see them, they’re typically about $80. Would I buy this again? Every single release, if I could. 4.25 stars on the Distiller scale. 125.6 proof. Non-chill filtered. 12-year age statement. Mashbill: 78% corn, 12% malted barley, 10% rye. Larceny Barrel Proof A123 Dark, but just a shade lighter than the ECBP; Pantone 159. Cracker Jack, warm apple pie with a pat of butter, Chinese five-spice, warm cola concentrate, and some caramel. Pervasive mouthfeel shows viscosity similar to the ECBP; alcohol on both nose and palate is more hidden, though certainly present. Long finish with a smooth cappuccino element, along with some vanilla. As Keith Jackson used to say during a college football broadcast: “Whoaaaaaah, Nellie!” This LBP A123 is fantastic, like a satisfying home-cooked meal in front of a warm fire. I bought this in a store that is off the beaten path for me, but I’m heading there again soon! I don’t recall exactly what I paid, but LBP can typically be found for $60-70. More, please! Would I buy it again? I’m breaking out my wallet right now. Not to be missed. 4.5 stars on the Distiller scale. 125.8 proof. Non-chill filtered. 6- to 8-year age statement. Mashbill: 68% corn, 20% wheat, 12% malted barley. Barrel-proof bourbons are my favorite: there is no water adulteration. Both of these are non-chill filtered, so you’re getting the esters and fatty acids that are largely captured (and removed) in a normal filtration process. It’s more natural. It’s pure—straight from the barrel. Both of these A123 releases command your attention, as a barrel-proof bourbon should. They are beautiful and sensual and voluptuous and will ruin you if you’re not careful—and they know it. But you keep coming back for more. The LBP A123 is really, really good. It’s effusive in your nostrils, saturates your palate, and wraps around your tongue, snuggling it like a big, warm blanket. It is smoother than the ECBP (though the ECBP certainly isn’t unsmooth; this could be a function of the rye vs wheat component of the ECBP). The LBP finish goes on and on and on. Same distiller, nearly identical barrel proof, different ages, different mashbill: despite the fact that I’m an unabashed ECBP fanboy, I prefer the LBP here. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

AGED WHISKY SHOWDOWN Bowmore 18 Highland Park 19 Dimensions (Duncan Taylor) Balvenie Portwood 21 Kirkland Speyside Single Malt 22 (Alexander Murray) Continuing to work through bottles in my collection that I’ve yet to review. This grouping is admittedly somewhat incongruous, with Islay (Bowmore), Highland (Highland Park), and two Speysides (Balvenie, Kirkland). The common denominator is the age statements, which range from 18 to 22 years. As with previous “Showdowns,” the point here isn’t to necessarily declare an absolute winner (though one may arise), but rather to experience an interesting comparison and share those results. I’ve arranged these from youngest to oldest. Bowmore 18 Color is second darkest of the group, and virtually identical to the Balvenie 21: clear Pantone 153. Nose shows banana bread, and some mild Islay typicity with light iodine, saline, and gentle peaty smoke. The palate shows the slightest bit of roundness but the fruit drops off and a little white pepper spice kicks in. Something akin to passionfruit begins the medium-length finish, which is then usurped by some light char and smoke, but the overall effect is thin; almost watery. Unfortunately, Bowmore 18 has caramel coloring added. I really have no idea why any distillery would want to do this. It detracts from the overall experience: burning peat to malt the barley is as old-school as Scotch whisky gets. This is an 18-year-old whisky, which cannot be faked: why adulterate the age, tradition, and experience with adding coloring? It boggles the mind. Bowmore 18 can be found for around $150 today. It’s certainly not off-putting, but it’s also not particularly memorable, and the added coloring is for all intents and purposes lying. What is the point? What is there to hide? What is the rationale? Would I buy it again? No: on both a price/value basis and disdain for their coloring practice. 3.0 on the Distiller scale. 43% ABV. Highland Park 19 Dimensions (Duncan Taylor) This whisky is the lightest of the group in color, and appears analogous to Pantone 130. The nose is a bit reticent, begrudgingly offering up apples, honey, apricots, a cool eucalyptus note, and a medicinal quality that is likely ethanol-driven; the effect is not dissimilar to the Hall’s honey-lemon cough-drop aromatics that I get from Nikka Coffey Malt Whisky (reviewed Sep 21, 2023). But then cocoa makes an appearance. The palate turns up the volume considerably on the initial aromatics, and shows some viscosity. The transition from palate to finish brings generous spiciness, coffee, the cocoa again, and very gentle, lingering smoke. The Highland Park 19 Dimensions is a whisky that requires time in order to coax out its complexities. The bottle was a very generous gift from a good friend, so the question is not whether I’d buy it again, but rather if I’d buy it at all. It can be purchased for around $225—if you can find it. I’d put it in the nice-to-have rather than must-have category (with the caveat that there really is no “must” regarding any whisk(e)y in the grand scheme of things). It’s wonderful if you’re price-insensitive, and I’m very grateful to have it. I no longer possess any Highland Park 18, which would be an obvious (and interesting) comparison. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 52.7% ABV. Non-chill filtered. Distilled 6/1999; bottled 6/2018. Cask # 501104; Bottle # 236/352. The light color suggests no added coloring. Balvenie Portwood 21 Clear Pantone 153 in color; indistinguishable from the Bowmore 18. The nose is cautious, and like Carl Sandberg’s “Fog,” comes in on little cat feet, displaying a feline oscillation that wavers between port and deep chocolate—just because it wants to—and adds mocha, sandalwood, and honey. The palate is a slow roll into more chocolate, which nearly conceals the alcohol; there’s no real spice in the transition from palate to finish, which is long and chocolaty. Did I mention chocolate? For me, Balvenie is a traditional benchmark whisky with a modern twist—that twist being the various wood finishes it employs (rum, sherry, port). It combines tradition and modernity in a style that favors tradition in terms of its poise and refinement. It exhibits a confidence that has no need for self-aggrandizement. The Portwood 21 is consistent with that Balvenie ethos. This whisky is not cheap, and can currently be purchased for around $300. Would I buy it again? I paid significantly less when I bought it, but if price were not an issue, the answer is yes (to be clear, I would not buy every whisk(e)y, even with unlimited funds). Balvenie Portwood 21 is wonderfully cerebral, in part because it’s a little monochromatic in its chocolatiness, and it requires some thinking if you want to dissect it. Or, you can just enjoy the chocolate milkshake. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 43% ABV. Kirkland Speyside Single Malt 22 (Alexander Murray) This whisky is the darkest of the bunch, consistent with the sherry cask finishing; clear Pantone 160. No-doubt sherry nose: toffee, chocolate, dates, strawberry preserves, and dark gingerbread (the bread, not the cookies). Cracker Jack times two. The palate shows wonderful intensity, finishing long and sweet, with chocolate, peanut brittle, and a pleasant touch of sweet café Cubano, with its basso continuo espresso bitterness. Costco is the largest liquor retailer in the world, and as a result has the wherewithal to affix its Kirkland brand to high-quality white-label offerings, as is the case here. Purists may want to turn up their collective noses, but there’s no arguing the value aspect. Who knows how Alexander Murray sourced this? But the fact that it is sourced doesn’t necessarily mean that it didn’t make the cut for whoever the distiller is, and even if that is the case, the point is moot: how many very nice 22-year-old whiskies are you going to find for $80? One. This one. Would I buy it again? I don’t think that this expression is available any longer, but I bought two when I purchased them, and this one is bottle #1. So, yes. Unbelievable value. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 46% ABV. In terms of price, the Kirkland (Costco) stole the show with its 22-year age statement and $80 price tag. The Highland Park and Balvenie bottlings were each wonderful, for different reasons. The Bowmore was demonstrably inferior to the other three—independent of its “islay-ness” (I adore Laphroaig and Lagavullin). I concluded the tasting with one final single taste of each one in quick succession, and confirmed by more lengthy assessments. The Bowmore is unchanged; the Highland Park is by far the most powerful and youthful; the Balvenie is expansive and orgasmic; and the Kirkland is still very, very good. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

AGED WHISKY SHOWDOWN Bowmore 18 Highland Park 19 Dimensions (Duncan Taylor) Balvenie Portwood 21 Kirkland Speyside Single Malt 22 (Alexander Murray) Continuing to work through bottles in my collection that I’ve yet to review. This grouping is admittedly somewhat incongruous, with Islay (Bowmore), Highland (Highland Park), and two Speysides (Balvenie, Kirkland). The common denominator is the age statements, which range from 18 to 22 years. As with previous “Showdowns,” the point here isn’t to necessarily declare an absolute winner (though one may arise), but rather to experience an interesting comparison and share those results. I’ve arranged these from youngest to oldest. Bowmore 18 Color is second darkest of the group, and virtually identical to the Balvenie 21: clear Pantone 153. Nose shows banana bread, and some mild Islay typicity with light iodine, saline, and gentle peaty smoke. The palate shows the slightest bit of roundness but the fruit drops off and a little white pepper spice kicks in. Something akin to passionfruit begins the medium-length finish, which is then usurped by some light char and smoke, but the overall effect is thin; almost watery. Unfortunately, Bowmore 18 has caramel coloring added. I really have no idea why any distillery would want to do this. It detracts from the overall experience: burning peat to malt the barley is as old-school as Scotch whisky gets. This is an 18-year-old whisky, which cannot be faked: why adulterate the age, tradition, and experience with adding coloring? It boggles the mind. Bowmore 18 can be found for around $150 today. It’s certainly not off-putting, but it’s also not particularly memorable, and the added coloring is for all intents and purposes lying. What is the point? What is there to hide? What is the rationale? Would I buy it again? No: on both a price/value basis and disdain for their coloring practice. 3.0 on the Distiller scale. 43% ABV. Highland Park 19 Dimensions (Duncan Taylor) This whisky is the lightest of the group in color, and appears analogous to Pantone 130. The nose is a bit reticent, begrudgingly offering up apples, honey, apricots, a cool eucalyptus note, and a medicinal quality that is likely ethanol-driven; the effect is not dissimilar to the Hall’s honey-lemon cough-drop aromatics that I get from Nikka Coffey Malt Whisky (reviewed Sep 21, 2023). But then cocoa makes an appearance. The palate turns up the volume considerably on the initial aromatics, and shows some viscosity. The transition from palate to finish brings generous spiciness, coffee, the cocoa again, and very gentle, lingering smoke. The Highland Park 19 Dimensions is a whisky that requires time in order to coax out its complexities. The bottle was a very generous gift from a good friend, so the question is not whether I’d buy it again, but rather if I’d buy it at all. It can be purchased for around $225—if you can find it. I’d put it in the nice-to-have rather than must-have category (with the caveat that there really is no “must” regarding any whisk(e)y in the grand scheme of things). It’s wonderful if you’re price-insensitive, and I’m very grateful to have it. I no longer possess any Highland Park 18, which would be an obvious (and interesting) comparison. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 52.7% ABV. Non-chill filtered. Distilled 6/1999; bottled 6/2018. Cask # 501104; Bottle # 236/352. The light color suggests no added coloring. Balvenie Portwood 21 Clear Pantone 153 in color; indistinguishable from the Bowmore 18. The nose is cautious, and like Carl Sandberg’s “Fog,” comes in on little cat feet, displaying a feline oscillation that wavers between port and deep chocolate—just because it wants to—and adds mocha, sandalwood, and honey. The palate is a slow roll into more chocolate, which nearly conceals the alcohol; there’s no real spice in the transition from palate to finish, which is long and chocolaty. Did I mention chocolate? For me, Balvenie is a traditional benchmark whisky with a modern twist—that twist being the various wood finishes it employs (rum, sherry, port). It combines tradition and modernity in a style that favors tradition in terms of its poise and refinement. It exhibits a confidence that has no need for self-aggrandizement. The Portwood 21 is consistent with that Balvenie ethos. This whisky is not cheap, and can currently be purchased for around $300. Would I buy it again? I paid significantly less when I bought it, but if price were not an issue, the answer is yes (to be clear, I would not buy every whisk(e)y, even with unlimited funds). Balvenie Portwood 21 is wonderfully cerebral, in part because it’s a little monochromatic in its chocolatiness, and it requires some thinking if you want to dissect it. Or, you can just enjoy the chocolate milkshake. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 43% ABV. Kirkland Speyside Single Malt 22 (Alexander Murray) This whisky is the darkest of the bunch, consistent with the sherry cask finishing; clear Pantone 160. No-doubt sherry nose: toffee, chocolate, dates, strawberry preserves, and dark gingerbread (the bread, not the cookies). Cracker Jack times two. The palate shows wonderful intensity, finishing long and sweet, with chocolate, peanut brittle, and a pleasant touch of sweet café Cubano, with its basso continuo espresso bitterness. Costco is the largest liquor retailer in the world, and as a result has the wherewithal to affix its Kirkland brand to high-quality white-label offerings, as is the case here. Purists may want to turn up their collective noses, but there’s no arguing the value aspect. Who knows how Alexander Murray sourced this? But the fact that it is sourced doesn’t necessarily mean that it didn’t make the cut for whoever the distiller is, and even if that is the case, the point is moot: how many very nice 22-year-old whiskies are you going to find for $80? One. This one. Would I buy it again? I don’t think that this expression is available any longer, but I bought two when I purchased them, and this one is bottle #1. So, yes. Unbelievable value. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 46% ABV. In terms of price, the Kirkland (Costco) stole the show with its 22-year age statement and $80 price tag. The Highland Park and Balvenie bottlings were each wonderful, for different reasons. The Bowmore was demonstrably inferior to the other three—independent of its “islay-ness” (I adore Laphroaig and Lagavullin). I concluded the tasting with one final single taste of each one in quick succession, and confirmed by more lengthy assessments. The Bowmore is unchanged; the Highland Park is by far the most powerful and youthful; the Balvenie is expansive and orgasmic; and the Kirkland is still very, very good. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.