Tastes

Ledaig isn’t as consistently good as the peated Islay malts, but the best bottlings more than hold their own. This is one of them, a well-balanced mix of smoke and sherry flavors with a juicy texture. The nose is nutty with a hint of meaty smoke and fig jam. The palate isn’t particularly complex, but it has a pleasantly heavy mouthfeel and a hint of orange cake. The finish is long, dry and a little peppery, with a bit of mint on the aftertaste. There’s an enjoyable dash of meaty sulphur at the start and end too. I tried this at The Whisky Show when it was launched in 2018 and am grateful to @PBMichiganWolverine for letting me revisit it under more sober conditions. A notch above the official 10-year bottling.

Not a review but a comment on the latest evidence that supplies are catching up with demand as inventory matures, creating room for lower prices. Per Whisky Advocate: “The Cadboll Estate is priced about 15% lower than the Private Edition releases, and it’s likely significantly more aged... I suspect the distillery has an ample stock of well-aged single malt and a solid plan for keeping pricing competitive even as tariffs and Brexit are causing a lot of uncertainty in that area.” I’m planning to sit out most of the new releases this year and try to make more of a dent in my existing collection, in the expectation that the market is only going to get better for buyers next year and beyond.

On a work trip to Switzerland last week, a colleague warned me not to wear good clothes to the restaurant that evening. You’ll never remove the smell of meat, she said. She wasn’t kidding: it turns out that cooking slabs of venison, beef, lamb, horse and ostrich on individual hot stones is a great way to keep vegetarians away from your wardrobe. I was transported back to that restaurant once I got home and opened the bottle of Swiss single malt I bought at Zurich airport. Those heavy chunks of red meat that seemed to dominate every menu I perused last week have been seasoned, smoked and somehow converted into whisky. Bold, smoky beef flavors are the signature of the palate here, and they are as delicious as a lean piece of meat sizzling on a rock. But there’s a whole lot more to this whisky than grilled deer. There are notes of caramel and cherry cola too, and a weird but compelling aroma of white emulsion paint on the nose. That takes some getting used to as at first it bears little resemblance to anything on the palate and, as I said, the initial thing that comes to mind is paint, not hitherto recognized as a desirable characteristic in a whisky. But with time it unfurls into herbal lozenges (Ricola, of course) and maraschino cherries and is anyhow lost amid the aromas of gravy that seem to slowly fill the room after you’ve poured a glass. I should also note that the oily caramel finish is longer than an Alpine ski run. This is a unique and delicious whisky that I suspect will go down quickly. I’ll just have to temper my urgency to pour it in case I spill some on my clothes. While the sweatshirt I wore to the restaurant has finally stopped smelling, a few drops of Santis on my pants may be enough to summon a pack of salivating dogs.

Another lovely blend from Cadenhead, this time comprising Ben Nevis, Blair Athol and Tomintoul, and bottled from a single cask that was vatted together in 2007. Bright orchard fruits up front, gooseberries in the middle, and a milky chocolate finish that fades to the partly dissolved sugar at the bottom of your tea cup.

The second sample from my Bimber set is labeled as a test batch from a recharred cask bottled at 51.9%, so it may not be identical to the retail bottle but should be close enough to review here. The nose is malty with a hint of lemon, pine, salt and sweet orange oil. It’s crisp and malty in the mouth with a silky, oily texture and more of those sweet orange notes. The finish is long and toasty, although there’s a hint of a rough youthful spirit beneath the surface. Excellent for the age, especially when compared against the American craft distilleries.

The whisky in my glass comes from a set of six samples you can buy from Bimber in London and while it isn’t identified as being exactly the whisky in this bottle, it does share the same PX-cask heritage and is bottled at the same strength of 54.2%. Only the words “Test Batch” on the label suggest it might not be identical, but let’s assume it’s close enough to warrant a review here rather than under a separate entry. At any rate, it’s excellent, consistent from nose to finish with a distinct milk chocolate profile and tasting nothing like a typical young spirit blasted with an overpowering sherry cask. In addition to creamy chocolate, the nose is milky toffee, butterscotch, salted caramel ice cream and nutmeg. Those flavors continue in the mouth, with the addition of cinnamon, chocolate Bourbon biscuits and coffee. The aftertaste is like licking a bowl of the aforementioned ice-cream - yum! For a three-year-old whisky, this is quite an achievement, and even if the flavor profile is ultimately a little narrow, it’s less so than many a much older sherry cask from a more established distillery. A debut that swaggers with the confidence of an East End barrow boy.

This one’s all about the oak spice. Crackling black pepper on a malty canvas makes it a satisfying nightcap, despite the lack of a discernible nose or interesting finish. I’m usually not a fan of virgin oak, but its contribution here is precisely calibrated.

Rum casks aren’t usually my thing - they can veer too sweet. Here, the rum influence is very subtle and the resulting whisky as savory as much as it is sweet. America loves it - it’s on course to be Balvenie’s biggest seller in the U.S.

This is the third iteration of peated Balvenie that I’ve tried in the last couple of years and by my reckoning the best of the bunch. The peat has a seductively sweet profile and is more overt than I recall on the original 14 year peated edition and the triple cask travel retail version. The palate has the distinct Balvenie honey, well integrated with the smoke. The finish leans to the sweeter notes.

A Scotch engineered for the American palate sounds like it would be too sweet for my taste, but Balvenie had more subtle intentions when it launched this new 12-year-old with the US market in mind. The aromas are delicately sweet and floral, like honeysuckle or a light perfume. Spray a little eau de Balvenie behind the ears and you’ll make lots of fellas happy. Taste wise, it’s buttered toast with a gentle oak spice. The spice ramps up on the long and creamy finish, adding a dash of cinnamon. It’s altogether delicious and much better than the Doublewood - a lovely mix of sugar and spice that I could drink all night.