Tastes

You’ve gone too far this time Balcones. It’s one thing to challenge the old guard by making excellent Texan whiskey, but to produce something that could pass for a young Balvenie is tantamount to cultural appropriation. And to price it at $40 a bottle risks sparking an anti-dumping complaint to the WTO for unfair warm-weather subsidies. So by all means tempt us with aromas of honey and orange tea on the nose. Seduce us with fruity orange flavors in the mouth and a delicate oak spice. Keep us on the hook with a sweet syrupy aftertaste. But don’t think this “appreciation” of Scottish traditions will go unanswered. Perhaps you’re unfamiliar with the movie Local Hero, where the inhabitants of a small Scottish village engage in a battle of wills with a Houston oilman. Spoiler alert: they mess with Texas and win. This round goes to you Texas, but keep an eye on your brisket market. I can already hear them firing up the barbecues of revenge in Scotland.

Few’s rye leans to the sweet side and this one veers too far in that direction for my taste, especially on the finish. It’s well made and easy to drink but aside from a little burst of spice in the middle it’s not my preferred style.

Compass Box prices seem to have drifted out of my orbit so it’s been a while since I bought any of their new releases, with the exception of a $50 store-exclusive marrying cask. But I’ll eagerly try them given half a chance. Rogues’ Banquet is one of their longer-aged blends and worthy of more contemplation than my small sample allowed, but initial impressions are that it’s a sophisticated distillate-driven dram that doesn’t lean on peat or sherry to deliver its flavors. On the nose, the Clynelish wax stands out despite the small proportions in the blend. Helpings of pineapple cubes candy lend a fruity note. There’s a silky texture in the mouth and a mix of sweet and savory flavors including ginger spice and mangosteen. An interesting dram, albeit not one I’d buy at $200 a bottle.

It’s been a while since I felt the world needed another rye option, but this Turkey’s balance of cream, pepper and clove might just convince me that there’s room for another bottle on your shelf. Drink it at its unadulterated barrel proof if your tastes lean towards spice or add a dash of water to accentuate the creamy notes and bring out a sweeter finish. The nose doesn’t have the crackling pepper of last year’s Master’s Keep Cornerstone, but there’s no reason to swoop on those dust-gathering bottles if you can find this much cheaper option.

Mango and pineapple on the nose, rich oily oranges in the mouth, this is a tasty tropical treat. A whisky for lassi drinkers.

Like many reviewers, I keep landing on the word ‘interesting’ for this whisky. And I mean that in the best sense of the term, in that it’s an engaging and challenging curiosity. Each time I think I have it’s measure, I find I am unsure of myself and have to reach for another pour. The flavors are familiar yet unusual, distinctly Bruichladdich and yet clearly unique. The distillery’s signature creamy, lactic note leads proceedings on the nose but is soon joined by grass and kiwi fruit. There’s a decent oily heft to the spirit in the mouth, where the sour cream flavors are joined by peaches in rich cream and a vibrant spice that confounds given the absence of peat or any long exposure to oak. It’s the unusual combination of sour cream, fruit, grass and spice that makes this different from your typical Scotch and while that may not be a recipe for a daily pour it makes for a stimulating alternative for the jaded palette. Dare to go Bere.

As this is a celebrity-backed product with a suspect maturation gimmick, I am naturally inclined to hate it. But damn, it’s good. The late Dave Pickerell didn’t just slap Metallica’s branding on some generic sourced whisky. He and his successor Rob Dietrich, formerly the master distiller at Stranahan’s, have blended whiskies from Tennessee, Kentucky, Indiana and Canada in ex-Spanish brandy barrels to create something unique and delicious. Dietrich says chemical analysis shows the “sonic enhancement” process — agitating the barrels with low frequency Metallica tracks -- does boost flavor by driving the whisky deeper into the barrels, which rest for about three months in Whistlepig’s Vermont warehouses. Whatever the science, the results are tasty and unique. There’s considerable batch variation, though the two I tried were both full bodied and rich with dark chewy flavors. Batch #094 had more caramel flavors, while #101 had a stronger rye spice influence that was more to my liking. The brandy barrels added notes of juicy, musty grapes that leave a long and pleasantly sour finish. Metallica’s music isn’t to my taste, but with whisky this good, I’m with the band.

The devil appears in a puff of sulfury smoke, tempts your tongue with a sweet initial hit and then sprinkles some salt in your glass when you're not looking. An extended peppery finish fools you into thinking that maybe it would be fun to stick around down under for a bit.

There's sea salt on the nose for sure, but also grilled lemons and perhaps kelp. A drop of water brings out a puff of minty smoke. Lemon and pears on the palate and a tangy, creamy smoke. Long salty finish. Quite delicious, I much prefer this to the sweeter core range.

By now, you probably know that most bourbon drinkers are raving over this release, so I’m here to give you the perspective of a malt whisky drinker who rarely consumes anything from Kentucky other than rye. Indeed, this bottle alone cost more than the sum of all the bourbon I’ve purchased previously. I bought it because I’ve long been intrigued by the “funky” descriptor that I’ve heard associated with Wild Turkey, a flavor I associate with some of my favorite Springbank whiskies, and also because I was blown away by a sample of the legendary Cheesy Gold Foil Turkey that I got to try recently. I appreciate this is a ridiculous route into a distillery, akin to starting one’s exploration of Arbdeg with Lord of the Isles and then working through the committee releases without first tasting the perfectly good core range. My excuse is that this bottle seemed to promise more of the flavors I find in a well-aged Scotch rather than those I associate with bourbon, such as buttered popcorn, and it didn’t require me to navigate a high octane ABV. Fortunately, my instincts were correct. The nose is divine and addictive. There’s dark sugar, mint, clover honey, cherry, cinnamon and ginger, all flecked with a pinprick pepper spice that pulses to a metronomic beat between each of the competing flavors. There’s spice at the front of each sip, then tea, a dash of cherry, the dissolved sugar at the bottom of the teacup, even something meaty like chopped liver. Each mouthful is different, though the oak spice is always present. And let’s talk about what it’s not — it’s not syrupy sweet, there’s no butter and, thankfully, no buttered popcorn. The finish is drying with caramel drizzle, more tea, ginger and another hint of cherry. This is really complex and more than enough to satisfy a bourbon-curious malt whisky drinker. The only disappointment was the absence of any of the umami/mushroom notes that I associate with the word “funky”. If anyone knows of a Wild Turkey that meets that description, please share!