Tastes

We wrap up Ledaig week with another bottle sold directly by Tobermory at its distillery or online and it’s the oldest one of my line up. It’s a 20-year-old that spent its last three years maturing in a Moscatel sherry cask. (The refill “whisky” casks the website says it was in prior to that were presumably ex-bourbon, rather than, say, grain or rye.) Moscatel is at the sweet end of the sherry spectrum, so this could have been too sickly for my liking. I’m also suspicious of mature whisky that has been finished in wine or sweet sherry casks - pigs needing lipstick come to mind. Whatever the case, it’s turned out a beauty. The nose is lemon, heather and cracked pepper. In the mouth it’s oily with flavors of boiled lemon candy and dark maple syrup, all wrapped in a peat that pushes the spiciness to the brink before pulling back, unlike the less balanced samples this week. The finish is long and syrupy, with more lemon, a hint of pleasant tamarind sourness and a sprinkling of pepper. It’s easy drinking neat but goes well with water, which opens up the nose and accentuates the sweetness and the length of the finish, albeit at the expense of some of the mouthfeel. A creaminess emerges also. Overall, it’s very much like one of the sherry finishes in the Laphroaig Cairdeas series. That said, I did a quick comparison afterwards with last year’s Cairdeas Fino cask edition and the increased complexity of the Ledaig was noticeable. It’s not worth twice the price of the Cairdeas, but it is more of an upgrade from that very nice Laphroaig than I had expected. In summary, this was probably my favorite of the week, just ahead of the 10 and the 19. I look forward to revisiting the Isle of Mull just as soon as I can carve out the time and focus to barrel through my Tobermory samples.

This was another limited edition from last year, available at the Tobermory distillery and online. It spent its last two years in hogsheads that previously held Rioja wine, implying it was in ex-bourbon casks previously. The nose is sharp peat with a hint of something sweet underneath. Some heathery elements emerge with time. It’s better diluted to 50%, which brings out minty and meaty notes. The palate, like many of the older Ledaigs, is overwhelmed by the peat - it kicks in too soon and too strong. But tame it with water and you’ll find flavors of raspberry amid the spice and a long oily finish with the savoriness of cranberry. Peat and red wine can be a difficult combination and the balance isn’t quite right here. Still, worth trying for the fruity notes and I’m glad I have a second sample for further titration experiments.

Now this is more like it. The balance lacking in the 18 is very much present in this 19 year-old available to hand fill at the Tobermory distillery. Its website doesn’t say how long it spends in second-fill Oloroso casks or what it was in before that, but I’m assuming it was ex-bourbon and for the vast majority of its maturation. It’s a lovely blend of creaminess, dry sweetness and a delicate peat, all interlaced and presented beneath a typical sherry cask nose. Quite how an extra year of maturation mutes the peat compared to its punch on the 18 is hard to fathom, but perhaps there’s much older whisky in this batch. Is there any salt to the taste, as many find in Ledaig? Perhaps a pinch at the end. The finish is a long mix of light sweetness and soft peat, with a nice sour note riffing off the smoke at the end. If I could change one thing it would be to dial everything other than the peat up a notch to concentrate the flavors and thicken the mouthfeel - a slightly higher ABV version of this could be perfect.

I had high hopes for this after discovering the greatness of the 10 year old, but sadly it’s badly out of balance on the palate. The nose is wonderful: raisins soaked in orange syrup, a beech plank fresh off the grill and something meaty like truffles or fried liver. It starts off well in the mouth also, with dry orange notes, but that quickly gets swamped by a huge amount of peat. I’ve had Octomores and Supernovas that tasted less peaty, which is bizarre given how age frequently moderates the smokiness. What’s more, it’s a very one-dimensional peat, just a flatline of pepper with no nuance or depth. I didn’t think to add water to this until the very end, as it’s only 46.3% neat, but that did succeed in softening the peat and bringing it more into balance with the orange notes, so perhaps another go around with the benefit of dilution will yield a higher rating. As it stands, it’s not in the same league as the 10, despite the delightful nose.

It’s Ledaig week here at Modern Drinking HQ, as I attempt to get through a backlog of samples from the Isle of Mull. Kicking things off with a revisit of the 10, which is even more impressive the second time around in terms of flavor, balance and value for money. Worthy of space in any collection.

The second of two Cairdeas samples generously gifted by @LeeEvolved is probably the creamiest Laphroaig I’ve had. How creamy is it? I wrote seven bullet points of tasting notes and four of them say ‘cream’ or ‘creamy’. There’s no hint of it from the subtle peat on the nose, but after that it’s a dairy delight. The palate is creamy and sweet, with a peat level that’s a notch lower than the 10. The finish is - wait for it - creamy, with a hint of citrus and a long delicate spiciness. There’s perhaps a hint of bitterness underlying the creamy aftertaste, but overall this is delightful and different and I would love to add a bottle to my Cairdeas Hall of Fame. Thanks Lee for sharing this unicorn that I never expected to try. My unbroken Cairdeas streak now stretches back to 2011, leaving just three earlier releases to track down. I’m smiling like the cat that got the cream.

The first of two Cairdeas samples kindly supplied by @LeeEvolved is this year’s release, the cask-strength Triple Wood. I’m not sure if I’ve ever tasted the regular bottling, so my only touch point going in is that I enjoyed the cask strength Quarter Cask edition a couple of years ago. The nose is immediately appealing, nutty and treacly with a touch of peppery spice and cloves. Neat, it taste gorgeous, flavors of orange chocolate sandwiched between bursts of pepper. The finish is faint chocolate, dry and nutty. Despite the high ABV, which is 59.5%, contrary to the Distiller description, this is surprisingly easy to drink at cask strength. So if you’re comfortable consuming your whiskies at this power then you’re in for a treat. Personally, I prefer mine at 46-50% so that I can stretch my alcohol allowance over a couple of drams. Unfortunately, this doesn’t take water very well: diluting it to 50% amplifies the peat and reduces the texture and complexity. As such, I wouldn’t buy a bottle of this, but if you’re happy sipping it undiluted it easily warrants four stars. Triple thanks, Lee.

Although I originally tasted this four months ago with @PBMichiganWolverine, as he mentions in his review, I’ve been waiting to revisit the additional sample I kept from his bottle before posting a review. It did not disappoint. In addition to the beautiful balance of sweet and savory flavors, I loved the oily, mouth-coating texture of this whisky. Smogen, I’m smitten.

This is how I like my sherry cask whiskies: caramelized peanuts on the nose, with a hit of burnt match and a slightly funky background note. It’s oily in the mouth and surprisingly bold for the ABV. There’s a big hit of tangy sweetness upfront and then a slow fade to a peppery spice. It finishes slightly sweet and tangy, with a long oily aftertaste of dusky brown sugar. Great mouthfeel and a cask that hasn’t completely overwhelmed the spirit makes this an outstanding whisky.

To make a great wine cask matured whisky, get rid of most of the wine-soaked wood. Start by shaving its inside to remove some of that stained interior. Then toast it using wood chips to caremalise the exposed wood. After that, char it - throw more fire at the damn thing. Fire good, wine bad seems to be the message. Then throw away the cask - there’s still a hint of wine in it, after all. Okay, I went a step too far, but the lesson of this successful maturation experiment seems to be that a little wine cask goes a long way. Shaving, toasting and re-charring appears on the evidence of this bottling to provide an exceptional integration between cask and whisky. The influence of the wine is evident from the hint of red berries on the nose, but there’s also sea salt that speaks to the spirit. There’s sweetness on the palate too, but it’s mainly oily, savory and spicy, even a little meaty. The berries return on the finish, which leaves a long caramel aftertaste. All in all, it’s one of the most successful red-wine cask whiskies I’ve tried, better than many of the Longrow Reds and reminiscent of the best parts of the recent Bunnahabhain Bordeaux cask. Not a typical Kilchoman by any means, but a delicious diversion generously distributed in 14,500 bottles.